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dckweed · 3 months

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THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND, bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut, reader has anxiety!

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

this took quite a bit to get out huh? lol anyway send in requests for bob and sunny if you have any my loves!

series masterlist here, series playlist here, comment on part one for the taglist!

PART THREE: bagman.

Purple and pink lights covered the dark stage, following your movements as you strode across it dressed in nothing but some white strappy heels with cute little cherries on them and a lacey red lingerie set. You had opted for a short wig that night, a blunt bob and in all honesty it made you feel like a whole new person as you stared out at the slightly crowded seating area next to the stage. Rowdy men were hollering already, slapping bills down onto the black top of the stage before you had even touched the pole yet, they were loving it.

Music starts and you block out the crowd, moving your body to the beat as you do a routine you’ve been practicing in the couple of weeks you’ve been off, wanting to change up your dances for your regulars a little bit. You dance for nearly five songs, your new routine a big hit amongst the crowd and as you stride off of it, stopping to shake your ass here and there in front of who you deemed as deserving gentlemen, picking up handfuls of bills every time you did. The stage was absolutely covered in them, and you couldn’t have been more thrilled. You were fairly certain that there was enough her for you to be able to call it a night if you wanted to, you knew your boss wouldn’t mind if you went home early, he was still iffy about you coming in with a bruise still showing anyway (even though you perfectly covered it with makeup). A stage hand passes you with a big bag as you make your way off stage, the lights off as they go to clear up the money that you couldn’t grab.

You were headed to the dressing room, needing a break after 5 songs but you’re stopped by your boss, Edwin. “You looked good out there Sunny,” He says an arm popping around your shoulder as the older gentlemen lead you away from the direction you were trying to go. You lean into him head on his shoulder. “Always a crowd pleaser, you are, you were missed during you time off.”

You smile at his words, despite his hard appearance Edwin was actually a really kind man and he had taken you under his wing when you first came to town, had given you your job illegally even though you had just barely turned 21 and because of it you had grown close. If Bob hadn’t come to your aid the night that your pice of shit ex boyfriend had gone to town on you, you know that Edwin would have (even though he was in the middle of running the club) and he almost did when you called him the next day to tell him what happened.

“I know it’s your first night back, and you wanted to take it easy,” He says, stopping you in the doorway just before the main floor of the club, where patrons were milling about as the stage hands finished clearing your set. “But you seemed to have caught the attention of one of those ship boys over there by the bar,” He points towards a group of them and you purse your lips, thanking god that none of them looked like Bobby from this angle. “Requested Ivy Wild for a private dance, told him you’re the boss when it comes to that..”

You sigh at the mention of being requested by name, looking back towards the dressing room. You weren’t sure how much you made from your stage appearance yet, not until you counted it, but you knew that if you did a half hour private dance that you’d walk away with three hundred at the least..you couldn’t say no to that kind of money.

“I’ll take him, put him in room four.” You say, before turning on your heel to head towards the dressing room. “I’m gonna go freshen up real quick before I head in there.”

The room is dark when you enter, nothing but a dim blue light around the ceiling to light up the room, casting shadows across the firm leather couches and the man lounging across them. You slink your way into the room, coy smile splaying across your lips.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing..” The man says, leaning back against the couch. He spreads his legs slightly as he does. He’s clad in dark jeans and a crisp white button up that is so tight you can practically see the outline of his abs through the fabric. You can’t see his face in the shadows but you can tell from his voice and the way he manspreads that he’s handsome, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little excited. “You gonna dance f’me?”

If you listened close enough he even sounded a little bit like Bobby and for some reason, that made your face flush. “You gonna follow the rules pretty boy?” You flirt, moving your hips to the music that was playing softly in the room, standing just barely in front of him. “You can look but you can’t touch, got it?”

“Whatever you say, hot stuff..” He seems to sigh almost dreamily as you start putting on a show for him.

You touch your body, letting your hands travel down it as you swing your hips to the beat, putting on a routine for him. Just as you’re about to give him a lap dance, ready to straddle your lean legs one either side of his thick thighs he reaches out for you, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your midriff. “Aht, Aht-” You say, pushing him back with your foot on his chest, your heel digging into the muscular expanse. “No touching, pretty boy..”

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me here..”

When you leave the room fifteen minutes later, it’s with a self righteous smirk across your lips. You had made the man cum in his pants with your lap dance and you hadn’t even let him touch you, it was a rarity but you loved when it happened, it was quite the ego boost if you were being honest with yourself. You could have done without the three hundred and fifty that he had left for you and just rode the high of a stroked ego for the rest of the night, but you took it anyway and shoved it in the bag that the stage hands had left by your locker. You would count it out when you got home, you were ready to leave and you were positive you already made over a grand tonight, there was no need to stay other than to see to the other girls but they all seemed okay with themselves tonight.

You poke your head into Edwin’s office and bid him goodbye on your way out, making your way to the employee parking lot afterwards where you parked your car, It’s a surprisingly short drive home given the time, and when you park your car on the side of the street outside of the building, you’re surprised to see Bob out, Cosie’s leash in hand.

“Hey, Bobby!” You say cheerfully, hopping out of the car with your duffle bag and bag of cash in hand. He turns at hearing your voice, as though he was startled.

“Sunny, you getting home early or late?” Yeah, the man earlier sounded almost exactly like him, you think and can’t help but smile. He holds the door open for you and lets you walk in ahead of him after you stop and stoop down to pet Cosie.

“Early, told Edwin I wanted to take it easy..” You say, walking through the lobby of the building to the elevator with him. He hits the button for you too. You notice the way he looks at you when you mention Edwin and you remember that you never told him much about the club. “Edwin is the owner of the club, my boss..and he’s kind of like my dad in a way though thats a little weird to say because he sees me in lingerie all night..” You weren’t sure where the sudden rambling came from, perhaps it was a reaction to him putting his hand against your lower back to usher you into the elevator before him, or maybe it was the smell of his cologne that lingered in your nostrils but damn it made you feel nervous and giddy all at the same time.

He hums as he punches the button for your guys’ floor, adjusting the leash to his other hand as Cosie rubs against your legs. You were still clad in your strappy heels, feeling too impatient to stop and take them off. He does the thing with his hand again to user you off of the elevator before him and you just about die on the spot, what is it with you? Was gentlemanly behavior really that big of a thing for you?

Within a few moments you’re at your door, his just a few steps farther than yours and he stops, holding your bag without a word as you shove your key into the lock and bully the door open. You open your mouth to say goodnight but find yourself saying something else entirely. “Do you wanna come in? Help me count all this maybe?” You hold up the bag of cash, and he glances down at it, soft smile on his handsome face.

“Sure.” He finds himself saying, even though he has work in a few hours. You’re just so sweet with your damn eyes and flushed little cheeks that he can’t say no.

The next few hours are filled with him sitting with you on your living room floor, sprawled out in front of the couch, piles of money in front of the both of you. You had gone and changed into a small pair of pajama shorts with little red hearts on them and a white tank top, but not before having him take photos of your heeled feet for you so you could post it on your instagram.

“It’s almost four..” You whisper, your head leaned against his shoulder. You guys had stayed on the floor and you found yourself leaning against him as our eyes drooped, tired from you first day back at work but not wanting to fall asleep just yet. You listened to him tell you stories about his job, and you fell in love with how much he loved his job, how happy it made him.

“You sleepy, Sunny?” He murmurs, that Montana accent thick. He turns his head to look down at you, almost wishing that he hadn’t because from this angle and in this lighting he could pretty much see through your shirt and it was all he could do not to pop a boner right here next to you at the sight of your pert nipples and supple tits.

You hum in response, already on the cusp of unconsciousness. The last thing you remember is him shifting, his warm arm coming to wrap against your shoulder as if pulling him farther against him.

By the time you wake the next morning, he’s long gone, though he’s left you in his hoodie that you don’t remember putting on and with Cosie. You can’t help but pout at his absence, having found yourself more comfortable with someone you were fake dating than anyone you had ever actually dated. You were surprised that you had fallen asleep, that you hadn’t woken when he left and when you check your phone, you’re even more surprised to find a text message with a photo of a sleeping you attached, your head against his chest, eyes closed and peaceful..

Navy Dude: thought i would take something for my own instagram..see you tonight..

You couldn’t help but giggle, breathing in his scent as you read the message and immediately going to check his instagram account before making yourself busy for the rest of the day by taking Cosie on a long walk and doing your pilates work out in the living room, practically counting down the hours until he would arrive to take you to meet his friends. Your first official date as a fake couple.

You’re just struggling into a cute little yellow dress sun dress when you hear your door open and Cosie give a happy yip, with your arms cocked behind you, you glance towards your bedroom door, hearing his footsteps fall down the hallway. “Bobby?” You call out, almost a whine. “I can’t get my dress zipped..”

He’s in your room in a matter of seconds, his long and lithe body taking up your doorway. He’s in his service uniform, the tan khaki’s littered with different colors of pins that you would have to ask him about later. You thought he looked handsome in his uniform, but he looked downright drool worthy when he wore his flight suit home, though you assumed they hadn’t done any flying today.

“Let me help,” He murmurs as you stand in front of him. He bats your hands away before gently moving your loose hair over one shoulder, out of the way of the zip. “Dress looks real pretty..” His fingertips trail down the exposed skin of your back and you suck in a breath, chills going down your spine as they go up, up, up, stopping just between your shoulder blades.

“Do I look okay?” You ask softly, smoothing out the flowy skirt that just barely went past your mid-thigh as you turned to face him, looking up at the taller man. You had put on enough makeup to cover up what was left of your bruises, but not nearly as much as you had worn at work last night. You were meeting friends, there was no need to paint your face like you would at work. You weren’t sure if you should put on more though, you wanted to look okay for him, you wanted him to have his friends’ approval.

“You look gorgeous,” He murmurs, corners of his lips turning up as he looks down at you. You were practically chest to chest by that point, you would call it an almost intimate moment. His hand comes up from his side, fingertips grazing against the skin of your cheek before brushing your hair behind your ear, you blush as you notice yourself leaning into his touch slightly. “Think you look real pretty in yellow, Sunnygirl..”

“Thank you..” You breathe, not realizing that you had somehow moved close enough to him that your noses were practically touching, him stopped down towards you. It wouldn’t take much for your lips to brush together now, just lean into him a little farther, and you would have too if Cosie hadn’t barked from your feet, scaring you so badly that you jump about a foot in the air, cheeks flushing as you realize that you had been about to kiss him and he hadn’t even tried to stop you.

“Right, so,” You clear your throat, turning to go back to your closet for a pair of matching sandals. “Why don’t I go walk Cosie while you change and then I’ll meet you by your truck?”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah,” He says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he turns, his own cheeks flushing red. “You do that, i’ll be right down..”

Nearly forty-five minutes later, he’s pulling his silverado into a parking spot near an old Bronco, throwing the shifter into park. You take in a deep breath, looking over at him. “This is it.” You say, the whole scheme that you two had cooked up finally feeling real to you. The man next to you nods, taking his keys from the ignition and shoving them down into his pocket. “Alright Bobby, let’s do this.”

The parking lot isn’t overly crowded, but the patrons inside the bar are loud as you walk up to it. Your nerves get the better of you the closer you get to the front doors, your hands shaking with anxiety and you try to channel it into smoothing down your dress skirt but it does no good. Bob notices though, and suddenly he’s sliding his much larger hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay, Sunny.” He says, and you smile up at him feeling like a fool. You hadn’t realized that your anxiety was so noticeable, you thought you had been better at hiding it.

Before you cn respond to him, he’s pushed open the doors of the bar, stepping in first to hold it open for you, his hand not leaving yours once. Almost immediately there’s a call of his name traveling throught he air and the sounds of chairs scraping and before you know it you’re surrounded by a few big, buff dudes and a bubbly girl who looks the most excited to meet you.

You do your rounds of introductions, Phoenix gives you a big hug, ripping your hand from Bob’s in the process and practically lifting you off of the ground, and though you’re meeting her under the guise of being his girlfriend, you know that you’re going to be good friends.

Rooster gives you a firm handshake, his ginormous hand enveloping yours as he smiles down at you. You take in his features, he’s quite handsome despite the scarring on his face (that you desperately want to ask questions about, though you keep it to yourself) and you notice the lack of a ring on his hand or on the dog tags looped around his neck, peaking out of the top of the white undershirt he had put on under his loose hawaiian shirt. You think he’d be a good match for one of your friends and you make a mental note to ask Bob about it later.

Coyote is gentle, and quite sweet but he’s a bit of a flirt and you feel yourself leaning more into Bob while you’re talking with him briefly, wanting it to look like you weren’t available (because technically to them, you weren’t). He introduces you to who you realize is one of his best friends next, Hangman, or as you had heard Bob call him, Bagman. He’s still wearing his uniform, and when he shakes your hand he gives you a charmingly sweet smile that you just know makes the girls weak in the knees, but when he talks to you? Your stomach drops to your knees.”Hey there, pretty thing..” He must know it too, because he smirks at you, that accent heavy.

You swallow thickly, turning to Bob. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink, I’ll be right back, baby..” You say, giving him a kiss on the cheek for show before heading over to the bar. “Shot of tequila, please..” You say to the woman tending bar, leaning against it as you let out a breath.

Bob’s friend was the man you had given a private dance to last night..the man who you had made cum in his own pants. How fucking bad could this get, you wondered? You hadn’t exactly lied when you told Bob’s friends that you were a dancer, you just hadn’t exactly specified what kind of dancing you did for a living, not expecting that one of his friends would be one of your customers.

She sets the shot glass down in front of you just as you feel a presence behind you, directly behind you. His body was solid and warm as he put his arms on either side of yours, boxing you in.

“Does he know?” His voice his quiet in your ear, making your body go stiff. You were uncomfortable, but you knew that he wasn’t going to hurt you or touch you in anyway.

“That I made you cum in your pants?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow as you turn to face him. His head was right next to yours, eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “No, Bagman, I don’t think he does, and I don’t think he needs to either.” You knock back your shot, the liquid sliding down your throat with ease. “Just like I don’t think your group of friends needs to know that you spent your sunday night getting a lap dance from a stripper, now do they?”

You must win whatever stand off this is because after a moment his moves his arms, letting you brush past him. You hear him ask for a round of beers from the woman, and to put your shot on his tab as you make your way back to Bob who gives you a questioning look, you realize he must have seen the whole encounter. You lean up to kiss his cheek as you come back, his arm going around your waist firmly as you whisper to him that you needed to tell him something when you guys got home. You honestly thought it was funny, but you were sure that he was going to be freaked out.

taglist:

@mamachasesmayhem @hangmandruigandmav @shotgunhallelujah @shiara04 @3tabbiesandalab @tgmreader @flrboyd @goosterroose @mrspedropascal5683 @sugajar

@dory-98 @justherebecausesafarisucks @eloquentdreamer @sweetwhispersofchaos @pet1t3 @teacupsandtopgun @milkbummm @purplevortexx @silenterosion

#kara writes #top gun maverick #jake seresin #top gun #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd smut #robert floyd #lewis pullman

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luminouslywriting · 18 days

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Bob headcannon, they confess there love to you when there drunk ,maybe infront of everyone or maybe not you decide depending on the character ,but at first they don't remember , then they see you walking by a few times and the memory comes back

Hi hon! Great request idea! For this, I just did the men I think this would apply to! So if I’m missing anyone you really want to see, let me know! Requests are open and I don’t mind spam :) Please note though that I don’t write full smut scenes so don’t go requesting anything too crazy haha 😅

More under the cut, cut for length:

Lewis Nixon:

-In private and when he’s drunk, he confesses that he thinks about you ALL of the time and you just have to sit there and listen and try to get him back to his quarters. -No, he doesn’t remember this in the morning. But when he’s starting to get slightly tipsy again and he passes you, he remembers. -He is mortified and goes immediately to Winters to spill tea about said encounter. And Winters just tells him to talk to you??? And figure it out???

-So a conversation is in order and when he finally stops dragging his feet in order to actually speak with you, he’s pleasantly surprised that you reciprocate those feelings. -And now he’s wondering what else you two can get up to when he’s tipsy haha 😉

Ronald Speirs:

-This happens when Easy takes the Eagle’s Nest and they get to relax a little….and Speirs is finally letting loose just a little bit. -He very tipsily and drunkenly admits that he’d been in love with you for a hot minute….right in front of Lipton. It’s a whole moment honestly. -No, he won’t remember it in the morning. And no, Lipton is not about to say anything because it was embarrassing enough having to watch the entire thing haha. -But after realizing that you’re avoiding him, he remembers the encounter and immediately tries to fix things with you. -The conversation quickly takes a turn into a makeout session with mumbled confessions from both of you.

Joe Liebgott:

-Probably takes place in Aldbourne?? Before D-Day and before any of the jumps. It’s a day shortly before all of that and everyone is just trying to have a good time. -He had gotten totally wasted, hit on you, and you figured it was just because you were around when he was drunk. -Please note that that was NOT the reason and he doesn’t even remember it until after D-Day?? It’s the most random memory and he’s suddenly panicking over the thing??

-So it’s a whole panicked conversation and you probably just have to kiss him to shut him up because you’re super chill about the entire thing and he is NOT haha. -Suddenly very grateful that he got drunk and told you way too much.

Bill Guarnere:

-It’s sometime after D-Day and he’s not necessarily drunk but just slightly tipsy and tired enough to spill his feelings. -He doesn’t remember at all but you keep looking at him weird and Toye and Heffron let him know everything he said haha. -He acts super chill about it even though he’s really not…and he avoids talking to you so you have to take the initiative here babe. -Once the conversation starts though, he’s perfectly confident in expressing how he feels. -He asks you out on a date once you get back to England :)

Joe Toye:

-Doesn’t get blackout drunk and isn’t really an embarrassing drunk as much as an honest one. So he’s not acting out of the ordinary, just more honest than normal. -Honestly? He remembers quite fully what he said but if you’re not going to talk about it, then neither is he

-It’s not until you guys are stuck in a foxhole in Bastogne that a real conversation about it is had and he’s surprised to find out that you thought he was just drunk….and he really doesn’t feel that way. -He absolutely tells you how he feels and a kissing/cuddling session begins.

-You two write to each other until the war is over and you can reunite.

George Luz:

-This man gets his jump wings, gets a little drunk, and you think he’s joking when he flirts with you in all honesty. -He remembers on the boat over to England and tries talking to you about it, but you just tell him to stop joking about things. -He gets very serious about the entire thing and confesses how he really feels and it’s a soft, slightly insecure, conversation. -But you two get together before you even reach England and everyone thinks you two are really cute. -He promises that when it comes to you, he’s never going to joke or tease about his feelings.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers asks #easy company #lewis nixon imagines #lewis nixon headcanons #lewis nixon x reader #lewis nixon #ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs #ron speirs #joe liebgott #bill guarnere #joe toye #george luz

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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 months

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The Sprite and the Shifter

Tamlin x Original Character/Sprite - Fluff - Smut

After rescuing a sprite from the paws of a predator, Tamlin finds a friend in the most unlikely of fae. The only problem is, he’s a grump and she’s sunshine personified. Well, that and the very big (very little) problem - she’s less than a foot tall - and he might be falling in love with her.

A/n: This is one of my favorite stories I’ve written yet 🥹

Warnings: Contains Crescent City lore that could be spoilery if you think too much on it, Smut, a few little size difference innuendos sprinkled in, language, alcohol, mental health struggles, MDNI.

A tickle brushed against the nape of its neck as the beast prowled through his forest. The hitchhiker he’d begrudgingly picked up marveling at the world around her.

He’d found her under the paw of a bob-tailed forest cat, trying her best to reason with the hungry creature. It was said that sprites could wield power quite larger than their size would suggest, but this tiny, stubborn creature simply crossed her arms with brows drawn and a pointed finger, lecturing it and refusing to harm the cat that surely saw her as its lunch. With a half-hearted growl from the beast, the forest cat ran at the sight of him to which the Sprite tapped her petite foot in irritation, “I could have handled it!”

The beast only gave what appeared to be a roll of its eyes and wandered on, leaving the little fae be.

“Wait!” She squeaked. “My wing!” He glanced back spotting her through the brush, running with all her might on legs barely longer than the height of one his paws.

He thought about leaving the ungrateful female behind but… well, the guilt of leaving the it behind to fend for itself was likely more inconvenient than taking her somewhere to have her bent wing tended to.

“Please! I can’t fly like this!”

An image flashed through his mind of a fae dying on a table, wings cut off by a witch, and an act of kindness in its final moments. Not today. Today his heart wouldn’t dwell on it, but he could offer kindness to the sprite. So he lowered himself on his haunches and waited for her to catch up, giving an irritated flick of his tail as he waited for her to climb on.

The beast was beginning to regret his kindness as he let out a displeasured rumble from his throat when her small, barely perceptible voice sighed in wonder, “Look! Those flowers are almost as tall as you! Can we smell them? Please please please.”

He wanted to ignore her, he really did, but the awe in that voice made him pause. In this court now overrun by thorns and weeds, she still found beauty. It wouldn’t be long before she’d see it for what it was - a wasteland squandered by its own High Lord.

Letting out a huff through flared nostrils the beast hung its head low in reluctant deference to the tiny fae’s command, grimacing as she grabbed fistfuls of his fur, tugging herself on top of his head, an eager wing twitching with excitement brushing along the shell of his ear, with an exclaimed “oops, sorry!” as it twitched at the tickling sensation.

Apparently hauling her body up on top of his head wasn’t enough as he felt weight distributing to the right side of his head as she pulled herself up an antler, and steadied her feet on a tine halfway up. “I can smell it from here! It’s amazing! I’ve never seen one like this.”

The beast thought to itself that she’d said that about the last four flowers they’d had to stop and investigate but kept it to himself.

Hours later they stumbled out of brush into the fields leading to the Spring Court manor. Excitedly she jumped up and down with glee, pushing down on the brow of her savior. He really should have left her somewhere but there was no turning back now.

“Is it safe here? Will you be hunted?” She asked wearily.

The beast finally spoke, “I am not prey.”

Whether she was shocked to realize the beast could speak or not, she didn’t let on. Scurrying down his snout and nearly tumbling as she dropped to her knees, she pulled a corner of his lip up to inspect his sharpened teeth. “With canines like THAT, I suppose not.”

“Do you know if anyone lives there? It looks abandoned.”

The beast only prowled toward the manor the tiny fae nervously grasping onto its fur, little fingers tugging tight clumps into her grasp as if that would protect her from any dangers within.

Prowling next to a velvet lounge the beast dipped low. “Off.”

“But-“ she shrieked.

“You’re safe. Get off.” tone leaving no room for objection.

“O-okay.”

And with that the beast shifted into a rugged, beautiful male. He waited for the realization, the shock, the hate to cross her features but it never came.

No, the pixie jumped up and down shrieking with glee. “Shapeshifter! Eeeeek! I’ve never met one of you before!”

The male almost let a corner of his mouth tug upward. When was the last time he’d smiled? It felt unnatural and he kept his features neutral.

He squatted down, extending a palm. She felt lecherous admiring the muscles of his exposed chest but it was right there before her. “Wow.” she let slip, her eyes blown wide.

And he couldn’t help it, he let out a small sound of amusement. He wasn’t quite sure anyone viewed him as anything less than a male who’d let himself go at this point.

At least he had pants on. She wondered how the magic worked considering he had no clothing as a beast. “Let’s get your wing fixed.”

She took a step into his palm, grasping onto a calloused finger for balance as he carried her to a small infirmary within the manor.

Sitting on a small table back turned toward the male, he assessed the delicate structure of her iridescent wings, up close he noted that they were membranous with pearlescent veins throughout. He couldn’t help but marvel at them, wondering what colors of paint it would take to recreate such a spectrum of color. He wondered if Fey- no, he wouldn’t think of her today. He couldn’t allow himself to spiral, he’d brought the sprite all this way and her wing needed tending to.

It took much longer than anticipated but with guidance from the little faerie and his own knowledge, they were able to set the wing. Unfortunately, it could take a few days to heal. The light filtering through the windows had since become a blend of oranges and reds, night would be upon them soon.

“You may stay the night in a guest room.” his tone impassive in hopes she wouldn’t notice the shame hidden within. The rooms were hardly fit for prisoners, let alone a guest - but it was better than sending her flightless into the darkened forests. There were threats far worse than bobtail cats on the hunt under the cover of night.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

He only grumbled in dismissal of the thank you’s. Surely the manor would feel like a prison to her by the time she’d leave. “It’s nothing. Find a place to sleep and it’s yours for the night and- what exactly is it that you eat?”

The male wasn’t exactly prepared to host but surely there was something that could be provided - though he doubted his usual meal of venison would be appetizing to her.

“Do you have sugar and water? Or perhaps honey?”

With a nod, he led her to the kitchen, she sat on a counter, ankles crossed as he let a pot of tea steep, pulling out sugar cubes to melt into it and providing honey in the smallest dish he could find.

She let out a sigh of contentment as she sipped the tea - an herbal blend that would ease the aching of her healing wing and hopefully help her rest. With genuine gratitude, the faerie expressed her thanks. “Oh!” She gasped. “Oh, I’ve been so very rude. What is your name?”

Something pulled at him with the question, she truly didn’t realize who he was. “Tamlin.” he spoke curtly. “And what is your name?”

“Fleur” she smiled.

“Fleur” he repeated - a lovely flower in his palace of thorns and decay.

An oddly adorable yawn spilled from her as she began to drift off. The tea clearly doing its job. He carried her to the least objectionable room in his manor and laid her carefully on a pillow, placing a silken kerchief over her delicate form.

“Goodnight, flower.” He whispered.

————

Tamlin awoke before dawn, sleep evading him as usual, but today he felt a little lighter. Certainly it had nothing to do with actually interacting with another being, with reveling in the way she experienced the world with such joy.

As he wandered through the halls, he found himself pulled toward the room he’d left her in, his heart sinking slightly when the fae was no longer there. No note or sign of her presence aside from the missing kerchief.

Very well. Best to leave before the walls come crashing in on her. Yet Tamlin found his shoulders dropping slightly as he carried himself back to his chamber, the energy to press through the day no longer tangible.

Falling back into bed, he lay quietly as the sun began to peek over the hills, casting rays into his room. A slight shimmer glinting in the dawn. That’s when Tamlin noticed - curled up on a shredded chaise by the long burnt-out fire place lay the little sprite, sound asleep under his kerchief.

The corners of Tamlin’s lips rose slightly as he drifted back to sleep.

Smile be damned as tiny hands pinched his cheeks two hours later. “Hello! Are you alive in there? You’re sleeping the day away!”

Letting out a sigh, Tamlin sat himself up hearing an “oof!” as she tumbled off of his face.

Placing her hands on the curvature of her hips, she scowled at him. “A little warning next time, please!”

“Apologies. Perhaps you could find a gentler way of waking someone. Why are you in here anyway?”

She flushed. “Oh, I- well I got tired of waiting for you and didn’t know my way around the manor so I just came in to wake you up.”

“No you didn’t” he tsk’d.

She flushed, knowing she’d been caught.

“Oh….” She rubbed the back of her neck the rosey tint of embarrassment lingering across her delicate features.

“Well, there was a spider in my room and- well, they’re not all bad but this one was rather insistent that I was intruding in its space.”

Whatever he’d expected her to reply with was not that.

“-and, well, this house is so big and I knew I would be safe with you.”

Safe. She felt safe with him. She’d sought him out and found comfort in his presence. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, that instinct to protect roiling beneath his surface. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he spoke.

“Show me where it is and I’ll eliminate the problem.”

“No!” She cried. “It wasn’t hurting anyone - it was just displeasured and I was a stranger in its space.”

Tamlin thought. Apparently he’d brought a pacifist into his home - first refusing to use her power on the cat and now, a spider? What an interesting little creature.

“Fine. I’ll ward the house against spiders.”

“But that’s its home! And I’m only a guest.” She retorted.

He dragged a hand across his face. Good grief, this little thing. “This is my home, not a spiders.”

“You don’t need all of this space! I have seen no others here. Surely it can take up space in your residence without putting you out.”

He should have left her in the wood where he found her. Truly. But he admired her kind heart.

“Fine, how about this? I will ward the house with the exception of that room so your spider will not be evicted. I, for one, would prefer not to have my manor overrun by the things.”

He couldn’t hear it but by the way her cheeks puffed and deflated he assumed the sigh she let out was her giving in to his solution for now.

————-

After another breakfast of tea and honey, the pixie sat straight, looking to her wings with an attempt to flutter the damaged one. “I should go and make the most of the daylight.”

A slight pang of disappointment rang through the male. Worry for her? Guilt for sending her away when he had room to spare? Sadness for the lack of her company, regardless of how pesky she was? He wasn’t sure but the words fell from his lips. “Stay.”

She jumped to her feet with glee. “Really? Oh thank you, thank you!” Springing forward, she flung herself against his wrist, hugging him. “I would kiss your cheek but… well, my wings.” Her eyes shone as she stared into his. “Thank you.” She repeated earnestly.

—————-

Tamlin had to admit that he didn’t mind her company. He carried her through his gardens, expecting her to frown at the weed-infested, malnourished state of it but she only smiled. “It’s beautiful!”

How she found beauty in such a place, he was unsure. “You should have seen it in its prime.” He didn’t mean for the words to escape him but they fell off of his lips with sadness.

“I like it now.” She hummed. “Maybe when Calanmai comes, the garden will grow further.”

He stiffened, blinking. “Calanmai has not been celebrated by the High Lord in several years.”

“Oh.. Why not?” She puzzled.

Distrust crossed his features. Was this a scheme? Had someone sent her to coax him into partaking in the Great Rite once again? His heart sunk. “I need to go take care of some things. You can find your way back into the manor.”

“Wait!” She cried but he only pivoted, taking long strides back to the house.

Tamlin sat in his study an hour later, eyes glazed as thoughts of the past spiraled. Would he ever feel better? The urge to rip the study to shreds that once would have clawed its way out of him wasn’t there, just an ache in his chest. Empty. Void.

A shadow flew across his desk overlooking the garden and again moments later, and suddenly a falcon swooped from the sky, straight toward where he’d left Fleur.

Fear ripped through Tamlin, he ran like he’d never run before shifting into his beast form to amplify his pace. He wouldn’t make it to her in time. Oh gods- he’d left her out there just for her to die.

“Fleur!” Tamlin roared as he bound into the garden, tearing through the briars, ignoring how they barbed into the pads of his paws. Exposing his teeth he launched toward the large bird of prey.

Screeching to a stop, nearly taking out the sprite and the falcon as he slowed, falling into a seated position from the velocity of halting.

“Are you okay??” She asked, concern etching her tone.

“Me!?” He asked. “I saw this falcon come swooping out of the sky to grab you.”

Fleur brought a hand to cover her mouth as she snickered. “No, silly! She came to find me. This is Perrey. I live with her and her hatchlings.” The bird clicked its beak affectionately brushing the top of its head against the faerie.

Tamlin’s jaw dropped. “How?”

“That’s a story for another time” she smiled sadly, scratching the feathers of the falcons neck.

“Perrey says she can fly me back to her nest. So I suppose this is goodbye.”

Tamlin looked to the sky, gray in the distance, grasping at straws for a reason to have her stay, regardless of her motives for being in his court. A lonely male, indeed.

With an awkward scratch to the back of his neck, and insecurity in his voice he replied. “It’s going to storm soon. I know it’s safe for Perrey but with your healing wing, it would be best to keep your wings in a dry, temperate controlled environment.”

She looked to the bird and Tamlin could have sworn the bird gave a nod of the head. After a long pause, it extended a wing and all but pushed her toward Tamlin.

With a disgruntled humph and a scowl to her supposed “friend” she looked back to Tamlin. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You are in no way a burden.” He meant it.

“Okay, I think that would be good. Thank you, Tamlin.”

Letting out a high pitched whistle-cry, the falcon looked to him and then back to her and Fleur whirred around looking at the bird. “What!?”

The bird looked to him again with - yes, that was definitely a nod - “Oh gods, Perrey! I’m mortified!” The bird let out a huff and shook her head, leaving the Sprite behind before she could change her mind.

“I’m so sorry.” Fleur blurt out. “I didn’t know! No wonder you left me out here.”

Tamlin cocked his head. “You didn’t tell me you were the High Lord! I would never have asked why you didn’t partake had I known.”

Recognizing this as his opportunity to apologize he bent down to pick her up. “Come, little one. It seems we both have stories to tell.”

———————————

The pair sat by the fire. Tamlin in a large armchair and Fleur cross legged tucked into the crook of his arm. He’d added a small drop of whiskey to her sugar concoction knowing they’d likely both need it if they were to get to know eachother.

“Would you like to go first? Or me?” She asked.

Tamlin’s heartbeat picked up. She would likely hate him after this and if she left - he wasn’t sure he wanted to know her further, to have that much more reason to mourn the loss of her companionship. Now she was a pleasant stranger and knowing her? Well, that would feel a lot like friendship.

With a sigh, he muttered. “I’ll go first.”

To her credit, she only stared starry eyed at him as he spoke, never looking at him with disgust - only empathy and perhaps a bit of sadness.

He told her of love squandered and how he’d come to be the broken High Lord of the Spring Court, how he’d failed his court and mourned the male he had once been, the male he could have become.

When he’d finished she looked to him. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that. I’m sure it was hard. Maybe what happened wasn’t all right, but people can learn and grow. You could even love again if you wished.”

He appreciated her effort in consoling him but mostly that she didn’t flee or reprimand him, when he’d already spent so long berating himself.

In fact, getting it all off of his chest felt good. He felt a slight relief to that ancient ache within his heart.

“Well, your turn little flower. How does a Sprite end up in the care of a falcon? Where do the Sprites hide? Truthfully, I always thought you were a myth.”

She flushed. “I- I don’t remember everything. I remember, I think, or maybe dreamed of a burst of flame, a wave of water, a flash of white light, a mother’s hands picking me up gently, and whispering.” She hugged her arms around her waist. “Her voice was a breath of life, changing and moulding, whispering of growing flowers in the darkest places. It felt like love, like a gift for a sacrifice that I cannot remember.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t told anyone because I know it sounds crazy but it’s all I know. The next thing I remember was being carried in Perrey’s talons, thinking she would kill me only for her to provide me with protection.”

She blinked rapidly looking up into the emerald- eyed male’s gaze, met with only kindness. “Do you believe me?” She whispered, averting her gaze before she could be crushed beneath the weight of judgement.

He lowered his palm. A silent offering. She took a step onto it, standing straight and he raised her with a steady, fluid motion, careful not to let her fall over. “Of course I do. I don’t know your past but I know you have a place here - if you’d like.”

She was right. He did have plenty of room in his manor. And a friend - it would be nice to have one.

——————————

Fleur - A month later

Time flew by as she reveled in warm spring days, basking her now healed wings in the rays of sun filtering down through puffy white clouds. When arriving to the manor, Fleur wasn’t familiar with her own power beyond her ability to fly, but Tamlin had taken to working with her and she discovered she had the ability to revive various flora.

In fact, after the past month of hard-work and practice, the gardens around the manor flourished.

Fleur adored Tamlin and smiled to herself one day as she watched him in the gardens. She thought he was beautiful when she met him but she hadn’t realized how much of a physical toll his grief had taken on him until he started to gain a healthy complexion, his eyes were no longer hallowed out with purple underneath, his hair was lush and shiny - she’d spent countless nights running her hands through it as they chatted.

Today he donned a flower crown she’d begged him to let her weave into his hair. He was patient with her as she did it, and she blushed at the result. She couldn’t ignore the feeling in her chest as she admired her work. This strong, powerful male who didn’t balk from the softness and beauty of the world. The male who allowed the smallest of his denizens to play dress-up with his hair, and donned the crown proudly as they tended the garden.

Perrey - the meddling buzzard - had stopped to check in several times, teasing her for having a crush. She only scoffed at such a suggestion, things would never work between them. Based on his hands and feet his… appendage was likely as tall as she was. She blushed at the thought, pushing it far back into her mind. She’d taken to sleeping on a pillow in his room. She’d continued sleeping on the chaise for a week after her first night spent in the manor, but Tamlin sometimes had bad dreams and she’d use her powers to soothe him with the sweetest scents of spring and gentle breezes, humming soft tunes until he’d settle.

She, too, would have ocasional nightmares, those images of fire, water, and ash. They felt so real, like another life. Another world. But she’d hear a voice on those nights, when the dreams would become whimpers, not the Mother she’d once dreamed of but Tamlin’s voice. “I am here. You are safe. I will protect you.”

One night she’d woken to that voice to find that it truly was Tamlin soothing her through the nightmare. She didn’t want to embarrass him and selfishly, she ached to hear his unfiltered words. He’d told her of his days writing limericks during a war and she didn’t know what to expect - truly she’d never even heard a limerick before - that she could remember anyway. But even if she had, this one would be her favorite.

“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.

Take heed when things get hard and don't you ever turn around.

You'll find someone, someday, somewhere that grows you to the clouds.

Sweetest of the sunflowers, you're the sun to me.”

“Little flower?” Tamlin’s voice drew her from her daydreaming. “Calanmai is coming.”

Her heart lurched. They’d discussed the holiday and the potential of the Spring Court High Lord partaking this year. They’d surveyed the land together and while she thought the Spring Court to be a lovely place, she now understood the whisperings she’d heard from the pollinators during her time in the forest. The flowers were dwindling, the harvests no longer plenty.

She understood his hesitance to partake and would never push him to join if it was not comfortable.

An ugly part of her that she tried to push down deep tugged at her. Jealousy. She would be thrilled for all the creatures, all the residents of the Spring Court, but she would never have the opportunity to partake. As far as she knew, she was the only Sprite within this kingdom and while Tamlin was a shapeshifter, how would one approach the topic? But she was still a being, she still felt urges and desire, and Tamlin, something glowed within her when she thought of the male.

Perhaps he saw her as no more than a pest but, she had a hard time finding that to be true. She had little to no experience in romantic affairs but she had enough sense to realize that people didn’t whisper words like “you’re the sun to me” into the ears of someone they didn’t care for.

Remembering that he likely anticipated her response she forced a smile. “Oh?”

His lips pressed into a firm line. “I’ve been thinking and I have been failing my people. I have been failing my people for quite some time and need to partake for the greater good of my Court.”

An ache filled her, not the bitter ache of jealousy, but that of concern for a friend. “Are you comfortable in doing so?”

He gave a half-smile. “I��ve participated in centuries worth of Calanmai nights. I will be fine.” She looked to her feet shyly before looking back to him. “Just don’t force yourself to participate if you’re not willing. Duties be damned, your consent is important too.”

He gave a nod to her. “I appreciate your concern, little one.”

He sat in silent contemplation, words forming on his lips before pressing them into a line again.

“Fleur.”

Her heart fluttered at her name on his lips. “Yes?”

He hesitated for another moment. “Just- Please be careful on the night of Calanmai. I cannot and will not force you to do anything against your will, but perhaps you should stay here. The magic of the night is wild, primal. And you’re….”

Small. Fragile. Breakable.

She was well aware.

“You’re lovely and I don’t know how I would react if someone hurt you.”

He cares about me.

She closed her eyes, letting the thought float away. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He could never be hers.

“Oh, okay.” She whispered.

———————————-

Calanmai - Tamlin

His heart raced as he bound away from the manor. He’d reminded Fleur of the dangers. He wouldn’t lock her away or force her to stay in but he prayed that his reasoning was enough for her to do so.

A bitter thought passed through him, he didn’t want whatever maiden the basest version of himself would chose. He wanted Fleur. Fuck- he felt like a degenerate for it too.

She deserved better and they could never truly work anyway, aside from perhaps grinding against his pinky, there was no anatomical way to be with her. He knew she was an adult, that despite her lack of memories, she was mature enough and understood herself enough to know that she was a grown female with desires of her own. Hell, he’d even scented her arousal a time or two. It killed him. Why couldn’t she be his? It was a sick trick of fate to put someone so perfect in his grasp, just for it to never work.

He wanted to know what sweet sounds she would make as she came on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He ached for it. He could make himself small but- his magic only went so far. He couldn’t constantly be at her size. Was he sick for wondering if there was a way to make it work? He’d never want to push her into a relationship. What they had was too precious.

He had shrunk down to her size one day and she shared with him all the details of her world, the way the sun created prisms off the orbs of dew on blades of grass, the way she could curl up in a larger flower and nap, the pollen feeling silken against exposed skin. And that day, all he wanted to do as he watched her marvel was to take her into his arms - hold her, kiss her, submit himself wholly to her. His heart longed for it.

He knew he couldn’t shift to her size again without taking their friendship to a point of no return. He couldn’t fathom losing her companionship.

The drums rang out and he began his routine. He found the stag with ease. His bare chest covered with swirls of paint heaved as the urge to find the maiden took over. He wandered the crowd, women reached for him, caressing his arms and exposed chest with grabby fingers. He didn’t want them, the magic didn’t want them.

His body began to move on its own accord, the initial sign of setting its target, he wandered again through the crowd, closer and closer to the edge. His legs began sprinting across the field, further and further from the crowd, right toward - the manor.

Gods - no. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He began to sweat, the beast warring within. He was in pain, warring against it. He couldn’t go to her. She deserved so much more than this.

He begged to the mother, anyone who would listen to hold him back. Finally, through much disdain, he found himself in the stables, using any tethers he could find to bind himself to a post. He hoped it was enough to keep him away. He was strong willed but the beast inside was strong. Perhaps his will and the additional measures would be enough to hold him back. The horses chuffed at his intrusion, doing nothing to hide the irritation of his disruption to their rest, one going as far as to let out a loud neigh.

Tamlin fought and fought, sweat now drenching him, letting out pathetic whimpers and pleas. To whom? He didn’t know. The desire within him was so strong. Images of the day he’d shrunk down to her size flashing across his mind. She was everything. Perfect. Anyone who saw her would agree, with beauty and luscious curves that would bring kingdoms to their knees.

“She could be yours.” The beast in his mind roared. “She wants you. Take her. Just shift.”

“No!!!” He cried out, tears brimming his eyes as the lust burned through him.

His pupils blew wide at the sound of a tiny voice, sweeter than any nectar. “Tamlin?”

“Fleur” he heaved. “You can’t be here. You have to go!”

“What’s wrong? Who tied you here?” She flew to him, frantic, concerned.

She cared for him.

“Fleur, please.” Tamlin whimpered. The beast requested. One begging her to leave, the other begging her to relieve him of his lust.

She sniffed the air and he knew it wasn’t the horse shit she was smelling. “Oh, Tamlin. The magic. It chose me, didn’t it?”

“Fleur, I can’t.”

“Look at me.” She placed her delicate hands on his chin. “Do you want this?”

“No! I mean, yes. Fleur, there’s nothing more in this world I want but I can’t.”

She paused, deep in thought. “Why can’t you? And not because of the difference in size, why can’t your heart?”

The silver threatened to spill over his lashes. “Because you’re everything, Fleur. I can’t ruin us, ruin you.”

“Then don’t.” She stated plainly.

He took pause at the response. The simplicity of it.

“Ask me what I want, Tam.” Her eyes searched his, wings now fluttering to hover directly in front of his face.

Through heavy breaths he rasped. “What? What is it you want?”

“I want you, Tamlin. I want your friendship. I want your love, your touch. I want to know the electricity of your fingers tracing down my spine, the feel of your lips against mine, to know your body as well as my own. I want you to feel how much I care for you in every way, not just the emotional, the physical too. I want to know what the connection between our souls feels like when you’re buried inside of me, claiming me as yours. Because that is what I am Tamlin, I am yours - if you want me.”

“You’re all I want.” He growled.

“Then have me.”

—————————-

Fuck, she was beautiful - bare before him, spread on his bed like a delicacy, his to feast upon. And he was going to, and he would take a long time reveling in the sweet nectar currently dripping before him. They’d barely made it to his room, his magic cleaning the dirt of the stables off of him and spiriting away their clothes. He’d broken through his reigns at her command, and before shifting to her size, she begged him to shift her to his size, wanting to experience the world as he does.

He wasn’t prepared for the way the shift amplified her already unattainable beauty. Her hair normally appearing a shade so blonde it was nearly light now refracted under the soft fae lights with pastel shades of aqua, pink, and purple. Her skin practically glowed with radiance and her wings, they laid spread beneath her like a stained glass blown by the finest artisan. Forget the ethereal beauty of the High Fae, she was truly otherworldly, a goddess of spring. And he was hers, prepared to worship at her altar.

Her breasts heaved with anticipation as he admired her. The base instinct in him seemed to settle now, as if even it submitted to her.

He watched her with both predatory intent and awe as her round breasts and pert nipples rose and fell with each desperate breath of anticipation.

Stopping him from his final question of “are you sure?” she raised a hand up, the other falling to the apex of her thighs. “Please.” She whispered. “Tamlin, I need you.”

He lost any semblance of control, halting her as she began bringing those luxurious thighs of silken skin together in an attempt to create friction between them. His muscled grip holding them apart. “I’m going to taste you now.”

And taste her he did, he swiped up her center with a broad, flattened maneuver of his tongue. Her essence coated him and he’d never reveled in anything so delicious. He could die a happy male knowing he’d tasted the nectar of the gods. With expert precision his tongue circled her clit in teasing motions, and the moans that fell from her lips were sinful, a siren’s song of lust and temptation, a sound he would play on repeat long after this night.

A hand flew to his hair, tugging on it, her legs falling over his shoulders as he knelt at the edge of the bed. He ran a finger, collecting her essence to ease the slide into her. He groaned at the tight feel of her as his finger slid in, sending vibrations to her clit.

He worked her open with careful diligence, her moans pulling the strings of his ministrations into her core, whatever pulled those sweet songs from her, he paid rapt attention to. He knew she’d never been with anyone and his heart selfishly swelled at the idea of being her first and last, because that’s what this was. Not a one night stand, not just a “rite”, but a claiming of body and soul.

He puffed up with male pride, reveling at the grip of her sex as he slid another lubricated finger into her, this time curling in a way that elicited louder moans from her plush lips. With the next curl of his fingers, he sucked the swollen bud of her clit, humming with satisfaction at the way her body was responding to him. The hand that wasn’t currently wringing delicious whimpers from the female, gripped onto a supple thigh tensing around his shoulders.

A low growl escaped him, vibrating through her core and she shot up, trying to push away from him. He pulled his head back in worry, “What is it? Are you okay?”

Fleur gave a wicked smile. “Yes! I’ve never been better but, when I come at the touch of another for the first time, when I come for you - I don’t want it to be alone. I want to come together. Can we?

And if he hadn’t already been so riled up by the divine female splayed before him, this would have done him in. His eyes rolled back in bliss at the sentiment, “Gods, you are truly a gift.”

With that he scooped her up in a quick motion, depositing her further back on the silken sheets of his bed. There were so many ways he wanted to take her but this first time it would be gentle, he could leash that inner beast and savor this moment with the reverence it deserved.

Purple irises peered up at him filled with adoration, trust, hope, anticipation, so many emotions swirling in those eyes. She propped up on elbows to watch as he reached down once more, filling her with three fingers, so fucking wet and ready for him.

She let out his name in a gasp when he withdrew his fingers, his arm disappearing from between her legs to cradle her neck. She gaped at where his cock stood erect and throbbing, pre-cum leaking from the slit of it.

Leaning down he kissed her forehead and then taking her chin with his thumb and forefinger, emotion dancing in his eyes. “It’s okay, love. I promise I’ll take care of you. Do you trust me?”

She bit her lower lip, the corners tilting up as her eyes raked over the gorgeous muscled male above her, taking all of him in, committing him to memory. Flashing a soft, genuine smile she nodded her head eagerly. “Always.”

With that he gripped his cock with one hand, sliding the head through her slick, and carefully pushed in.

The combined sounds of pleasure emanating from the two could have shaken the walls of the manor. The stretch of his cock against her tight cunt sending waves of bliss through them.

“Please” she whimpered, offering permission for him to sink deeper into her heat.

“Fuck, Flower. I never dreamed you’d be so tight.”

She quirked an eyebrow, simultaneously letting out a moan as he pushed into her inch by inch. “You thought about this?”

He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, his cock now completely enveloped by her - warm, silken walls gripping fitting him like they were custom fit for eachother.

“Oh, gods!” Fleur cried out. “Tamlin, it’s too, it’s so-“

“Shhh baby. You’re doing so good for me.” He praised with soothing coos. And oh, by the flutter he felt around his cock his baby liked to be praised. He tucked that away mentally for safe keeping.

He held still, fighting the primal urge to fuck into her until she was screaming his name. No, there would be time for that later.

He let out a soft chuckle as she shifted her hips, canting them off the bed in a desperate attempt for friction.

“You ready?” He grinned, canines flashing like a fiend.

“I’ve been ready for this. You’re not the only one with a- ooooh” she let out a moan at a slight buck of his hips.

“What was that?” He mocked.

“Mmm” she hummed. “You’re not the only one with an active imagination.”

“Hmm” he feigned consideration. “Well, let me enlighten you, little flower.”

With that he pulled back and thrust into her gently, groaning as her breasts bounced with the motion. “These-“ He rolled a nipple between his fingers, leaning down to suckle at one, pulling back to release it with a pop “are delectable”

She gasped at the sensation and before she could speak further he began moving in a gentle rhythm, her moans reverberated off the walls, a chorus for his own enjoyment.

“There are so many things I want to do to you, do with you, Fleur.” He whispered and she could read in the expression, the way he took her in with such warmth that he meant more than just sexually.

She could only manage another sweet sigh as he pushed into her, increasing his pace and the weight of his thrusts. The way he stretched her and filled her in ways she never dreamed was sending her so close to the edge. “I’m gonna come.” She cried, lips forming that telltale “O”.

“Cum with me, Fleur.” He whispered into the shell of her ear. She shook her head in a “yes”, creases forming across her brow as her face contorted with pleasure.

Tamlin placed a thumb to her clit adding just the pressure she needed to fall over the edge, causing her to shatter around him in squeezing waves as she climaxed. She looked so fucking beautiful coming on him.

Tamlin came as she fell apart around him, with a deep cry of ecstasy he found his release, the heat of him filling her. Tamlin’s eyes screwed shut at the shock running through him with his orgasm, behind his eyelids golden vines swirled and wound from the once darkened depths of his soul into… he opened his eyes to find hers blown wide, not from the magnitude of their climax but from the snap.

“Mate?” He asked.

“Yes!” She cried out. “Mate.”

Fleur didn’t know a lot about mates but she’d heard whisperings of it, a bond so rare and precious. She refused to ruin the moment by contemplating the logistics of it, they may be able to carry out the act of mating but the actual prospect of carrying a child - which seemed to be a key facet of the bond. No, instead of considering she crashed her lips into his, kissing the mate she was blessed with until he dropped his weight off of her, falling to her side and pulling her onto his chest, her wings fluttering joyously with the motion.

“My little flower.” He beamed, pressing a kiss to the top of her pastel hair. “My perfect mate.”

———————————

Epilogue

The morning after their first coupling, Fleur found herself once again tiny, curled up into the warmth of Tamlin’s neck. They found that it took considerable power to shift her size and he could only shift his for specific periods of time, though it was easier. They accepted the bond right away and never looked back. The year’s harvest was the most fruitful in Spring’s history and Tamlin took time rebuilding his court, with his little mate by his side. He was so proud of her, so enamored by the kind, joyous soul he’d fallen so hopelessly in love with. He never minded their difference in sizes and quite honestly, they had fun exploring the various way they could enjoy each other regardless of size. Everything was wonderful. Until the day Lucien and Elain visited, with the sweetest baby one could dream of in tow.

Fleur doted over the child with such wonder. The joy Tamlin so often remembered filling her eyes as she took in his court, and he also felt longing flowing from her through the bond. Tamlin always wanted children and had accepted that it wouldn’t be feasible for them, the shifting being potentially dangerous to a developing child. He could shift to her size but there was always a small chance that the pregnancy could hurt her given that he wasn’t truly a Sprite. Neither were comfortable risking it.

Fleur hid the longing so well, the slight sadness she carried. He knew the sadness had nothing to do with him and that she was otherwise overjoyed with their life but he could understand the pang of grief. He felt it sometimes too, which led him to his study late one night. He’d felt her grief and refused to let his pride hold them back.

One morning, Tamlin woke Fleur early. “We have company coming today.”

She rubbed her bleary eyes as she propped up from her spot against his neck. “What? Who? Are Lucien and Elain back from the continent?”

He gave a smile. “No love, get ready and meet me in the study in an hour. Does that work? I’ll have tea ready for you.”

She gave a curious second look to him but knew her efforts to pry the information from him would be futile.

So an hour later she found herself sitting in the study with Tamlin; his ex-lover, now High Lady of the Night Court, and her mate. Feyre glanced anxiously around the room, placing a hand on her mate’s thigh and giving a soft smile, he returned it in kind. She looked back to Tamlin and Fleur with a smile, eyes alight with hope. “We think we found it. Helion helped, granting us access to dated tomes regarding shifting and ancient High Lords.”

Tamlin gave a small smile and Fleur could feel a huge wave of hope and nervousness down their bond. “Found what?” She asked, not unkindly.

Tamlin looked to her softly. “You don’t have to say yes, and you have plenty of time to think on this if you wish, but…”

Fleur’s legs bounced with excitement, anticipating the next words to fall from her mate’s lips. “We can shift you permanently to the size of a High Fae.” He looked to her cautiously, “I could try to shift to your size permanently but for the purpose of-“

She interrupted him with a squeal, flying to press a kiss to his cheek and then to Feyre and Rhysand as well. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She cried.

The High Lady and High Lord of the Night Court gave her soft smiles before Rhysand asked, “I assume that’s a yes then?”

“Yes!” She squealed. With that Tamlin used his powers to shift her to her High Fae height. Feyre marveling at her wings, studying them with awe. “You’re lovely.” She spoke with nothing but kindness. “Are you sure you want this?” Tamlin asked. She shook her head eagerly. “Yes! I’m positive!”

With that, Tamlin, Feyre, and Rhysand each dropped a kernel of light onto Fleur.

The moment felt magical but nothing felt different afterward. Tamlin and Feyre looked to eachother. “Now,” Feyre spoke. “Try to shift to your Sprite form. Will it into your mind.”

Fleur fought for a moment. “Take a few breaths, love.” Tamlin whispered. So she did, willing the image into her mind once again. And suddenly, she was small. “Oh…” she frowned. “Does this mean it didn’t work?”

“The opposite!” Feyre spoke with glee. “It worked! Can you shift yourself back?”

Understanding fell upon Fleur and she followed the same process, imagining her larger form and taking breaths. To her absolute joy, she grew large again. “You-“ she spoke through broken sobs. “You gave me the ability to shift! I can be this size all the time and shift back into my Sprite form when I wish?”

“Yes.” Tamlin spoke gently, placing his arms around her waist. “You can be whatever you want, flower.”

“I can’t believe this. Thank you all for this gift. How can I ever repay you?”

Rhysand nodded toward Tamlin. “The debt has already been paid.”

Tamlin gave an unreadable look to the High Lord and then to his former lover. “There was never a debt.”

“Congratulations to you both.” Feyre spoke, Rhysand mirroring the sentiment before winnowing away. Tamlin paused finding a note on the chair that Feyre had vacated.

I am happy. Now, it’s your turn.

Tamlin took his mate’s hand in his, discarding the note into a wastebasket. “Shall we begin?”

He laughed as he caught his footing, barely bracing himself for his mate to jump into his arms. Between kisses, she challenged, “Give me all you’ve got, my love.”

————————

Tag: @tamlinweek for the shapeshifter theme

General ACOTAR tag: @lilah-asteria

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #tamlin x oc #tamlin week 2024 #tamlin in love #tamlin’s mate #tamlin oneshot #tamlin #healing #Tamlin healing #spring court #sprite #shapeshifter

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months

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Black Light 4

Warnings: namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You check yourself in the mirror. The black bob isn’t a bad look. You tilt your head back and forth making the sleek strands wiggles back and forth. The sunglasses complete the look and you ponder overhauling your usual style. You look dangerous.

You resist scratching under the wig and give yourself a smile. You look almost devilish in the get up but you can’t chance being recognised on your mission. No, this is very important. This is revenge. Served tepid.

You sneak out the backdoor and check your phone. You have another message from your new friend. She texted you earlier that she had a new cell already. You hang onto yours like gold, you’re not really sure what you would do if you lost it. Probably turn to the primitive lifestyle.

‘I’m headed to the club, meet you at the cafe.’

‘Sure thing, 🐔💸’ You text.

She texts back a simple question mark.

‘Chicken wing’ you clarify and smack your forehead. You’re such a dweeb. You follow up quickly; I’ll be there.

You head downtown, catching a bus halfway and tossing the transfer. You could use the walk as your nerves are starting to flurry. You approach the cafe and see your friend. She wears a denim skirt and an off-the-shoulder red shirt. Her shoes are the same shade as her top. She looks towards you then the other way, not acknowledging your approach.

You near and give a short ‘psst’. She whips around and sneers in your direction before blanching and saying your name.

“Like it?” You pull down your sunglasses. “I feel like Sandy from Grease. Well, more like Rizzo.”

“Uh, sure, why are you dressed like that?”

“Oh, I didn’t want that guy to recognize me so I figure I could sneak in like this.”

“Ah,” she nods and lets out a sigh, “right. Well, try going to the other one when they card ya.”

“That works too. You’re so clever.”

“Thanks,” she says dully, “come on.”

You give a bounce and follow her down the street. She marches on, set on her path as you skip to keep up. She’s a lot more graceful in her heels. And angry. You worry about Cole, he might not be ready for what she has in store.

“Hopefully that jackass is there but those types usually don’t have anything else going on,” she snarls as if reading your mind.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You make sure you point him out when you see him. And don’t get to close, I’ll take care of him. No drinks, either. Let’s not take that chance.”

“Sounds like a plan. Well, kind of.”

“Don’t worry, I can slip this guy something. Don’t you worry. Men are stupid, he gets distracted by his next mark and I’ll strike first,” she turns the corner and you flutter along with her, joining the queue outside the club.

“You’re so brave,” you admire.

“No, I’m pissed,” she insists as she crosses her arms, slowly shifting with the line.

You peek out around the bodies. You see that man, Auggy. He’s scowling at an ID. You watch him and his eyes flick up as if he can sense you. You recoil quickly and put your chin down.

“Hey, be cool,” your friend touches your elbow, “busy tonight, you just gotta blend in.”

“Mmm, yeah,” you murmur, “I just… I don’t know what I did. I was nice–”

“He’s an old grump,” she scoffs, “who cares how he feels.”

You approach the front of the line and make sure to veer towards the other bouncer, the one with the pudgy belly. He barely looks at your card as he waves you inside. The two of you enter to the buzz of the crowd and blare of speakers.

“Now, we hunt,” she says, “keep your phone on you. You get close to him, let me know. Oh, and take a picture if you can.”

“Right, uh…”

“I’ll get upstairs, you stay down here,” she directs, “we’ll meet back up in half an hour if we can’t find him.”

“Sure.”

“Look, I got you. Anyone gives you trouble, text me. And give em a punch like I showed you.”

You put your fist up and pat your elbow as you reenact the brief lesson she gave you earlier. She smiles and squeezes your arm.

“Good,” she praises, “now, let’s do this.”

She turns and struts off. You admire her from afar. She’s so cool. And she likes you, you think. She’s a lot nicer than Amanda or Kam. You frown and spin around, looking around at the dancing figures and the bar shining at the far end of the room.

Where to begin…

You twiddle your fingers and give a huff. You have to get in the mindset. The grindset. The findset. Find him. Hmm, you’re not great with faces…

You go to take a step forward and you're suddenly hauled back by your arm. You yipe. No one around you reacts as you’re slammed against the wall, a shadow towering over you. You look up as your sunglasses are torn away and a light is shone in your face. The bouncer lets out a gravelly growl as the small bulb of the flashlight glares in your eyes.

“I knew it was you,” he grits.

“Oh, hi, Auggy!” You chime, “how are you?”

“Don’t act like you fucking know me,” he clicks off the light and leans down until your encased in the blackness of his silhouette. “You don’t want to know me.”

#august walker x reader #august walker #dark august walker #dark!august walker #drabble #series #black light #au #mission impossible: fallout #the club

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green-eyedfirework · 3 months

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“Anyone ever tell you that dragons are possessive, little thief?” Slade asks conversationally, as though he hasn’t got the human pinned under one clawed hand, towering above him with wings flared. His cave is alight with merrily dancing flames and even with one eye, Slade’s eyesight is good enough to see the way they flicker in the thief’s wide blue eyes.

“I—I wasn’t—I’m not,” the little thief stutters, breaking off with a gasp as Slade presses him flat against the stone. “I’m sorry!” comes out higher-pitched, “I—I apologize, I didn't mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to steal from a dragon?” Slade finishes helpfully. Watching the impertinent little shit sneak through his cave had been almost entertaining enough to excuse being woken from a nap. Especially his squeak when he saw Slade staring straight at him.

The little thief tried to run before Slade’s tail cut him off from the entrance and Slade’s claws trapped him in a cage.

“What were you looking for, anyway?”

“...Dragon scales,” the quiet voice admits hesitantly.

Bold little thief. Dragon scales are very valuable. Slade’s seen them used in jewelry and in metal-working and for magic. It also explains why the little thief ignored the piles of gold and jewels and finery to creep towards the dry, cracking patch of scales on Slade’s back foot.

“And you thought you could waltz right in here and take them, little thief?”

“I’m not—” the human starts before he cuts himself off. “I’m sorry. I—I really need those scales. Please.”

Slade hums consideringly. This is truly an interesting diversion—and a pretty prize.

Usually Slade’s prey doesn’t wander right into his den, but he’s not complaining.

“What’s your name, little thief?” Slade asks. Desperation is a good look on him. His dark hair is ruffled, his skin gleams in the firelight, and those blue eyes shine like sapphires.

The thief swallows before replying and Slade watches his throat bob. “Dick,” he says, “Dick Grayson.”

“And what would you do in return for my scales?” Slade asks. Dick’s expression flits to relief as he inhales sharply. Slade doesn’t let himself grin, not yet. Lull the little thief into thinking he’ll get what he wants, let him taste the fruits of his greed, and he won’t let go.

“You’ll give them to me?” the thief’s voice cracks with hope.

“I’m sure we can work out a deal,” Slade lets himself show each and every one of his fangs. The little thief shivers. “Depends on how badly you want those scales.”

“What’s the deal?” Dick asks bravely.

Slade lowers his head until he’s looking at the little thief from a distance close enough to devour him. “I’ve been looking for a bedwarmer,” Slade says, voice low and deep, “Satisfy me, little thief, and I’ll give you your scales.”

Dick’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. He stops breathing, literally, looking up at Slade like he’s expecting Slade to take him like this, and Slade allows himself the chuckle as he shifts forms. When the transformation ends, Slade’s straddling the little thief, human-sized hands keeping him pinned to the ground.

Dick takes a shaky, trembling breath. His heart is thrumming like a hummingbird’s. His expression is close to relief, though still too desperate to qualify, and Slade grins. This form may be smaller but it is by no means small.

“Well?” Slade asks. It’s been a long time since he’s had some stress relief.

“Alright,” the human’s voice is hoarse, “I agree to the deal.”

“Fantastic,” Slade purrs, leaning over Dick, “Let’s get started.”

~#~

Dick has to fight to not back himself all the way until he tumbles out of the nest he’s been led to. It’s lined with soft furs and pillows, sinfully decadent, and Dick has never felt more terrified as he edges away from the dragon stalking in.

Slade, he introduced himself, after Dick was able to calm down from the near panic attack of a dragon wanting to fuck him, and even in human form the dragon is nearly twice the size of him. Silver hair, a dark eyepatch, a dark orange-and-black scaled suit that ripples above his skin.

Dick’s gaze wanders to his crotch, and he swallows thickly. The bulge is…large.

“Here, little thief.” The dragon tosses something at him and Dick nearly fumbles the catch. “Prepare yourself.”

It’s a bottle of oil. Dick stares at it, heart thundering in his ears. He can’t believe this is happening. But he needs those scales, and this is the only way.

“Or do you want me to do it for you?” Dick snaps his gaze up and Slade’s grin is wicked as he flexes a claw-tipped hand. Dick can’t entirely suppress the shudder as he sits up hastily and gets to removing his clothes. He doesn’t want those claws anywhere near him, human-sized or not.

He can still feel the crushing weight on his chest, the surging terror when he realized he was caught, he failed, the dragon had him and wasn’t going to let him go—

“A better prize than I imagined,” the dragon says, low and heated and Dick looks up from the pile of his clothes to see Slade eyeing his naked body like it’s something to be devoured. He shivers, and Slade’s gaze grows more intense.

#my snippets #sladick #dragon au #dubcon #never a good idea to steal from a dragon

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tothebestofmyabilities · 4 months

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@seemoreseymoursbay day 3! OC day

So in the episode 'Bad Tina' Zeke mentions that his dads girlfriend just had a baby, assuming that the dads gf he talks about in early seasons is Cheryl his step mom and that the father of that baby is Zekes dad we can also assume that Zeke has a very young half sibling. And I did go ahead and assume all those things so this is Zekes baby sister Cherish (Cherry for short).

Used the prompt wonder wharf

Im gonna talk some more about her under the cut bc im sure that will devolve into infodumping zeke lore/headcanons and i dont want anyone to get stuck scrolling past a wall of text

Interestingly she's the only oc i have that's part of a different piece of media rather than one of my own projects.

She's a spunky little toddler for sure she's always got tons of energy, she's extremely confident and fearless constantly running off when she sees something that excites her or to ask strangers questions. She has a big sweet tooth but also loves spicy foods, off the top of my head I don't think its been discussed in canon where Zeke is from originally but recently I've been thinking of him and his bio mom as being from louisiana (projection on my part my mom is from louisiana and bc I like Zeke as a chef and the food there is soo good) I love the idea that his mom taught him to cook the local dishes and that he makes them for Cherry. She dresses in a chaotic mix of her own love of bright, clashing rainbow colors and dingey hand-me-downs from Zekes childhood and from their other cousins. I definitely think Zeke has adhd and Cherry does as well.

I tend to draw her/think of her around age 2 1/2- 3 (so when zeke is 16ish) but in canon time she'd still be a newborn. I love the idea of Zeke with a young sibling he's portrayed in the show as being super caring, protective of and loyal to the people be cares about, and good with younger kids all of which read as big brother qualities to me and he's also mentioned wanting siblings hes closer too. (He mentioned having a 44 year old brother in Presto Tina-o but also has said his bio mom was pregnant with him at her prom which is probably just a continuity error with his throway lines but taken at face value makes his dad out to be a gross old creep which is my personal headcanon idk if there's anyone out there who are big fans of Zeke's dad and step mom but my headcanons do not paint them in a nice light so beware of that)

Based on pretty much everything Zeke has ever said about his family I get the impression that the adults in his life are pretty neglectful and irresponsible and definitely not super present (he rarely ever speaks about his dad I hc him having a job that keeps him away from the family most of the time probably something like trucking and Zeke has mentioned Cheryl being an alcoholic I also hc her as much younger than the dad maybe she's a bartender? I definitely see her having a nightlife kind of job also for reference picture her as a redhead with blue eyes and a lot of tattoos that's where cherry gets her eyes and freckles)

I believe with Cherry a lot of parenting responsibilities would be placed on Zeke and while i think he has qualities that are really well suited to that the parentification of an older sibling is not ok and would negatively impact him, I like the idea of him applying for a job at Bob's Burgers bc he needs a more stable way to provide financially than doing odd jobs around town and not only getting a job but also getting a support system and adults who care about him and his sister and their wellbeing. I think Bob would take Zeke under his wing and help him make himself and his education a priority (the belchers helping out with Cherry when they can so he can focus more on school and extra curriculars) and help him get into a culinary school after graduation. Linda would fall completely in love with her (we know how much she loves babies) and basically treat Cherry like she's her own grandbaby. They all babysit her when needed but Louise is her favorite babysitter and maybe person also she really looks up to Louise and likes to imitate her fashion style and the way she speaks, Louise would pretend that this annoys her but not so secretly finds it adorable.

Anyways clearly i could go on and on but ill just cut myself off there hope y'all like her!

#my art #bobs burgers #bobs burgers fanart #fanart #zeke bobs burgers #bobs burgers oc #oc #seemoreseymoursweek #smsw #artists on tumblr #the picture of Zeke's family painted by all his random throwaway lines is endlessly fascinating to me #this probably means nothing to anyone else but zeke is so shawn hunter from boy meets world coded to me #oops was editing this in my drafts and accidentally pressed post instead of save its not actually march 6th for me for two more minutes #was gonna wait to post until morning but ok whatever its here now i guess

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ithinkabouttzu · 2 months

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hello! I love the reactions you write about Band of Brothers!, I would like to know how they would react if they knew they were their s/o's first boyfriend? I don't speak English, so sorry if it's bad 💕

Of course hon!!! Thank you so much for your request! Hope you enjoy!! 💌

Easy co.’s reaction to being their s/o’s first boyfriend!

Genre: Romance; fluff

Warnings: Kissing? I think that’s about it! (reader is gn)

Description: The Easy co. boys’ reaction to being their s/o’s first boyfriend!!

Taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsenthal @sweetxvanixlla (If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))

BoB Masterlist

Dick Winters: Knowing how caring Dick is, he would make it his mission to be the best partner possible for you. (he would even if he wasn’t your first boyfriend btw) He wants you to have the best experience possible, going on fun dates, surprising you with flowers, he wants to make sure that you feel loved no matter what. That true romance does exist. He would do all the little romantic stuff you haven’t really experienced before. He hopes to be your first boyfriend and last.

Lewis Nixon: I think Nix would find it particularly interesting that you haven’t had a boyfriend before him. Because literally how? You are the most attractive person this guy has ever met? He wouldn’t be surprised if you said you had guys lining down the block to take you out. I think he also gets a good kick out of the fact that he would be your first kiss (if you already haven’t had it) and your first everything really. He would let you in on everything you need to know relationship wise.

Carwood Lipton: He makes sure to set a high standard for you. He’s also like Dick, bringing you flowers and opening the door for you, holding your hands and being the sweetest guy ever. He reminds you that, even though most first relationships don’t always have the reputation to succeed, he can promise that he won’t leave, no matter what. He wants to make a relationship with him feel good and special. He’s determined to make you feel like a princess/prince at all times.

Joe Toye: When you tell him that he is your first boyfriend, he gets very protective. He genuinely wants to give a great experience with relationships in general, and swears to never hurt you in any way. He knows that this is special to you, so he takes dates and any sort of one-on-one time with you very seriously. Planning all kinds of stuff for y’all to go do. He really makes sure to take care of you and keep you safe from harm's way.

Joe Liebgott: When you tell Lieb that he’s your first boyfriend, he kinda feels a pressure from himself to be the best boyfriend to you. He wants for you to experience all of the young puppy love stuff with him, even if that means you two act like complete fools, it doesn’t matter to him. He wants to be your comfort and confidante during this new thing with you. But he’s so patient and considerate too, if you’re not ready to kiss or say “I love you” he’s very understanding and will wait until you feel comfortable.

Bill Guarnere: Bill really wants to be your first and best s/o. He is very set on making a good impression on you of what a good boyfriend should be like. He would love to show how great and fun romantic relationships can be. He really considers how fragile first relationships can be and really cares about your feelings, like figuring out what all of your boundaries, what you like and don’t like dating wise, he really protects you and takes you under his wing in a way.

George Luz: He figures the best way to be your boyfriend is to be your best friend first. He really tries to make you laugh and smile any chance he gets, he wants you to be happy no matter what, when you guys are dating and you tell him that he’s your first bf, he wants to meet all of the expectations you’d have for your partner, literally be the perfect, cheesy little boyfriend you’ve always wished for (be ready for lots and lots of flowers and sweet treats if you’re with him.)

Bull Randleman: When you tell Bull that he’d be your first boyfriend, he honestly feels honored to be your first partner. He truly thinks that the only reason you haven’t had a boyfriend before is because you have super high standards. He’s very gentle with you the first couple months you guys are dating, almost a bit reserved because he just wants to be respectful to you. Anytime he’s about to do anything romantic with you he’ll ask over and over again, “Is this okay?”

Eugene Roe: He’s so, so attentive and patient. Just the kindest boyfriend you could ever ask for. He knows that he’s your first boyfriend, and is willing to do whatever it is so that you don’t ever have to worry in a relationship with him. He will make sure to give you the best hugs and kisses and remind you that he’ll be the best boyfriend possible for you. And I can’t forget about all of the sweetest little dates he would take you on. He literally proves to you that chivalry is in fact, not dead.

Floyd Talbert: Tab’s honestly kind of nervous to be your first boyfriend. He wants to be the best guy for you. He understands how special a relationship is for you, so he makes sure to cherish and handle it as if it’s the most precious gift he’s ever had. He’s also very flattered to know that he’s your first everything. He can’t wait to experience all of the little romantic couple things you want to do with him eventually in the relationship.

Skip Muck: He takes it as a compliment that he’s your first boyfriend. He kinda goes over the top in the first couple weeks in y’all’s relationship. Sweet boy just wants to make a great impression on you, that he can be the perfect boyfriend for you. Like buying you all of your favorite things, surprising you with gifts, going on all kinds of dates. He wants to show you that he’s a great guy that is more than willing to love you and be in love with you.

Don Malarkey: He really has the sweetest intentions with you as your partner. He wants to make you happy and safe no matter what, whether he’s your first boyfriend or last. He is such a cute gentleman when it comes to your relationship with him, like coming up to your place with flowers, lowkey freaking out like a kid on his first date with you. He makes sure you are always comfortable and feel loved 24/7. He just adores you so much.

Shifty Powers: He doesn’t really mind that much, he thinks it’s kinda cute actually. He feels so special that you would want him to be your first boyfriend. He wants to make sure that you have such a nice experience with him. He does feel a bit of responsibility to make sure this relationship is the best. He prioritizes communication so much in y’all’s relationship because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable in anything relationship wise.

Babe Heffron: Don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s so happy that he gets to be your first boyfriend, that he gets to be your first everything. He’s so excited to be youthful and do young-love things with you. He’s kinda like Bill, very set on being your first and best. He will make sure that you know he’s there to stay no matter what. When you’re dating him just remember that he will annoy you with silly little dates and stuff like that.

Frank Perconte: He wouldn’t really care if he had been your first boyfriend, or your 100th, he just wants you to be happy and make you feel like the best partner in the world. He does want to make sure that he’s providing all you need so that you feel perfect in your relationship with him. If there’s something in particular that you’d really like for him to do, he would go all out for it!! He just really wants to see you happy and safe.

Ronald Speirs: He finds it quite amusing that he’s your first boyfriend. A little shocked at first because he genuinely couldn’t tell you hadn’t had a boyfriend yet. He finds the need to protect you even more, considering that he would hold such a special part in your life. He makes sure to take the relationship as slow or as fast as you like. He has such a hidden soft side for you and it’s so cute, even before he knew he was your first.

Johnny Martin: He’s very shocked. “Are you sure? You know high school relationships count too, right?” Lol he just finds it very hard to believe that you’ve never been with any other guy until now. He honestly feels kinda proud that you would want him to be your first boyfriend if he does say so himself. Any kinda cheesy little first relationship stuff you want, he’ll do it. Just don’t ask him to sing you a song and you’ll be alright.

Skinny Sisk: “Really? No joking?” He gets really soft with you when he figures out that you’ve never been with another person before him. Like he understands how important it can be to you so he does all the little sweet things a first boyfriend should do. Having the “talk” with your parents, taking you to the movies, holding your hand when you’re scared. He’s the best gentleman with you and he promises to you that he will never misuse or hurt your heart in any way. (like ron he’s also so soft for you lol)

Chuck Grant: He gets happy when you tell him that he’s your first boyfriend, not because you haven’t had a guy before, but because you chose him to be in a relationship with. He’s very understanding and patient with you if there’s some things you don’t really have a clue on in relationship stuff, he honestly finds it cute. He immediately takes responsibility as your boyfriend and makes sure to keep you happy and safe no matter what.

David Webster: Honestly is a bit nervous at first, just because he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way and wants for you to have the best first relationship possible. He has a lot of self doubt that he can be the best guy for you at first, but when you let him know that he’s all you want, he makes sure to be there for you in any way possible. He’d do so many sweet things for you, one I could see him do is like write you sweet little love poems and stick them in your bag before work or school.

Buck Compton: Ahhh where do I start? This hot shot thinks it’s adorable. You haven’t had a boyfriend yet? Well you got one now. He’d be more than happy to do a bunch of mushy couple stuff with you, he would love it actually. He just wants to make you happy at all costs, so he’s willing to do just about everything. As long as you're safe and happy then he’s fine. Get ready for him to be such a sweet guy whenever you’re around, like soft as can he.

Thank you for your request again, anon!!! I hope you all enjoyed! 🤍🩷🤍🩷🤍🩷

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riconas · 1 year

Note

aeon request, for your consideration: aeon tries to be a bratty sub, so dew takes it upon himself to break him down. aeon is so confident and showy on stage immediately, but deep down inside, he really just wants someone to take care of him and show him the care that he never received in the pit.

I got carried away. here is 1.6k of general Dew meanness for your viewing pleasure.

“Aeon,” Dew warns.

“Aeon,” Aeon mimics. “What?”

“Hands off.”

Very, very slowly, Aeon extends his index finger, touches the tip of it to the tip of Dew’s whammy bar, and presses down.

The chord wobbles. Dew smacks his hand away. “I said. Hands off.”

Aeon snickers. “Touchy.”

“Aeon.”

“What?”

“You’re asking for it.”

Aeon shrugs. Maybe he is asking for it. Would that be such a crime? As if Dew doesn’t go slinking up to Aether all the time, asking for it. Proudly wearing his dick on his sleeve.

“Satanas, just say you want to be fucked,” Dew mutters under his breath. It isn’t directed at Aeon, and it certainly doesn’t sound like he’s genuinely annoyed, but Aeon’s heart skips a beat. He watches intently as Dew turns the amp off and places his guitar back on its stand. It’s all he can do to not bounce on the spot.

Dew grabs his arm and wordlessly shoves him out of the practice room, heedless of the way Aeon nearly trips over his own tail. He’s silent on the walk back to the ghoul wing, but Aeon senses the mild annoyance radiating off him, tinged with exasperation. He probes carefully into Dew’s mind, and there it is, just as he expected.

Arousal.

“On your knees,” Dew orders, the second his bedroom door is locked behind them.

Now that’s something Aeon can do. He drops to the ground, hands on Dew’s belt, purring as Dew cards tough fingers through his hair. There’s no hurry, but he rushes to undo the buckle and pull Dew’s pants down, as a sort-of apology for interrupting his practice session.

Dew’s hard, unsurprisingly. Aeon gives him a quick lick from base to tip, swirling his tongue around the head, and earns a soft groan for his trouble. Inspired, he does it a few more times, gazing up at Dew through his lashes.

“Don’t tease,” Dew says, dangerously quiet. “Open your mouth. Suck on it.”

Aeon cocks his head. “Make me.”

Rookie mistake. Next thing he knows, Dew’s got a hold on the back of his head, and he’s gagging as Dew’s cock hits the back of his throat. Sometimes—and this is becoming very apparent now—Aeon does stupid things. He pushes at Dew’s thighs by pure instinct, and when Dew doesn’t budge, he tries frantically tapping instead.

Dew, mercifully, lets him up, but not without yanking his head back and spitting in his mouth. Some of it hits his cheek, and Aeon wrinkles his nose.

“You wanna try that again?”

Aeon does not, in fact, want to try that again. Obediently, he closes his lips around Dew’s cock and sinks down to the base, giving him one good, strong swallow before he starts bobbing his head. All the better for Dew to not see his teary eyes.

“No,” Dew says suddenly, pulling him off without warning. “You don’t deserve to suck me off. Not with that attitude.” He yanks Aeon to his feet and all but throws him onto the bed. “Strip.”

Easy. Aeon can do that. He’s good at following orders when he wants to (and even better at disobeying them, as Aether once told him) but Dew doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested in the strip show he’s putting on, so he shucks his clothes as quickly as he can and crawls back against the headboard, an open invitation to be cornered.

“Such a slut,” Dew says, devastatingly casual. “Look at you. Spreading your legs like a whore.”

Aeon doesn’t respond. It stings, kind of, but it’s hot. He spreads his legs wider, just to prove a point, and tries to gauge how pissed Dew really is as he stalks towards him. He feels like prey, counting down the seconds before he’s eaten alive. Wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

Dew licks his fingers and jacks himself a couple of times, gathering spit and pre before smearing them over Aeon’s hole. That’s it. That’s all the prep he gets. Aeon feels dizzy, out of his mind as Dew lines himself up and starts to press in.

Thank Satan Dew isn’t Mountain. Thank Satan Dew isn’t hung like a horse, because between the stretch and the friction, Aeon has enough evidence to decide he’s bitten off more than he can chew. Dew doesn’t even stop to let him adjust, just works himself in with tiny thrusts that go further each time, until their bodies are pressed so close Aeon starts to sweat with the heat radiating off Dew’s skin.

Then Dew gets a very eager hand on Aeon’s very eager dick, and Aeon thinks he might actually die.

“Oh, fuck,” Aeon cries, hating the way he's so sensitive to the slightest touch, though he could be excused for how Dew's kneading his dick like a cat. “Dew, Dew, oh—”

“Shh,” Dew interrupts. “Not a word.”

Aeon screws his eyes shut. Between Dew's cock stuffed inside him and Dew’s clever fingers working him with brutal, efficient strokes, he doesn't know where his attention is supposed to go. That and the mounting pressure in his gut have him overwhelmed in a matter of seconds, overriding all five of his senses, filling him up to the brim.

“Hey,” Dew says sharply. “Focus.” He slaps Aeon’s cheek, hard enough to sting, and Aeon can’t stop the whimper he lets out in response. Tragic, honestly. Pathetic sort of demon he is, whining over a little slap. He's never been a huge fan of rough treatment, never really sought it out on purpose, but it’s Dew.

Aeon would do anything for Dew.

He pushes Dew’s hand away, grabs Dew’s hips to try and slow down the brutal pace he’s setting. Focus, he tells himself, focus, Aeon, which doesn’t help in the slightest. He knew what he was getting himself into—to an extent—yet nothing's really prepared him for how harshly Dew's ramming his cock in.

“Dew,” Aeon tries to say, and immediately regrets opening his mouth when it comes out pitifully shaky. “Dew, I can’t—please. Please.”

Dew smiles, and Aeon’s heart sinks. “What?”

Aeon shakes his head. He can’t say it now. Not with Dew staring at him like that.

“Use your words,” Dew says, a little mean, a little playful. “I’m not Aether. I can’t read your mind.”

“I—” Aeon starts, and immediately forgets what he was about to say. “Can you—oh, slower, slower, please—”

Dew scoffs. “Slower? Someone wants to be treated nicely?” His voice drips with sarcasm, saccharine. Like it’s a laughable prospect, a ridiculous idea. “Someone wants to be treated like a princess? Wants to make love?” He splays his fingers across Aeon’s cheek, pushing his face aside and into the mattress. The motion is so careless, so thoughtless. Aeon’s chest gives a sad little twist.

“Please don’t mock me,” Aeon begs. “Please. Please don’t.”

“I’ll treat you nicely,” Dew says, sounding decidedly not very nice at all. “You want that? The brat wants to be treated nicely?”

Aeon’s expression turns pained. “Dew, please.”

Something shifts. Dew’s rhythm falters. “Please what?” he snaps, but the malice is gone, and it comes out almost helpless, half-hearted.

Please what? Aeon doesn’t actually know. Does he want Dew to treat him nicely? He can’t say that out loud; Dew would tease him for weeks. The whole pack would tease him, he knows it—he isn’t as tough as they are, can’t handle what they can. What a shame that he wants to be treated gently, wants to be cared for.

Wants to be loved.

“Please,” he says again, hoping and hoping that Dew understands.

“You want that?” Dew asks, sounding awfully fond.

Aeon gropes for Dew’s hand, desperate for something to hold. He swears he’s floating away, his brain thoroughly mushed, his nerve endings thoroughly fried. Dew pins his wrist to the mattress, but laces their fingers together anyway, kind enough to indulge him.

“You’re hopeless,” Dew says affectionately. “Just wanted my attention, didn’t you? Acting like a brat to get me all riled up?”

Yeah, Aeon almost replies, but before he can react, Dew’s pulling out and flipping him over unceremoniously, giving his ass a slap as he manhandles him onto his hands and knees. His elbows wobble, weak as a newborn calf. He’s almost thankful when Dew presses between his shoulder blades until he collapses to his chest. It punches a grunt out of him, and he’s embarrassed until Dew folds an arm around his waist, the other across his shoulders.

“It’s alright,” Dew tells him, breath hot in his ear. “I’ll be nice to you. Just take it.”

And take it, Aeon does. Not that he has a choice, but it feels better thinking he does, especially when Dew slides into him with no effort and hoists him up, stronger than he looks, until his sweaty back is pressed to Dew’s scorching chest.

Aeon hopes it burns him. Aeon hopes Dew brands him like this, leaves his mark forever.

He truly has gone insane.

Then Dew’s spindly fingers close around his throat, and Aeon wonders he may have gone about this the wrong way.

“No,” Aeon gasps. “Don’t choke me. Please. Just—hold, like this—” He puts his hand over Dew’s and slots his fingers in the spaces between. The pressure eases. “Yeah. M’sorry I—don’t want it like that, sorry—”

“It’s okay,” Dew murmurs.

“I just—”

“I know.” Dew presses his index finger over Aeon’s lips, shutting him up. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

Aeon nods deliriously, and lets his head fall back against Dew’s shoulder. It feels like lying on a table leg, and isn’t comfortable in the slightest, but Aeon’s too out of it to care. He likes this version of Dewdrop, he decides. Prefers it to the default setting.

Perhaps Dew was right. It would have been easier to ask.

“You wanna cum like this?” Dew asks, disastrously sweet.

Fuck he does. He’ll die if he doesn’t, he swears—

“Please,” Aeon gasps for the millionth time. “Please let me.”

Dew kisses his neck, his jaw, the shell of his ear. So gentle. So hot, like dragging burning coals across his skin, and Aeon knows for sure, right then and there, that he would set himself on fire to keep Dew warm.

“Will you let me?” he slurs. “Please?”

Dew laughs, a quiet huff of a thing. “Alright.”

#I like to think neither of them are as in control as they think they are #I also like to think neither of them are aware of how much they love each other #Rain in the next room over: 🤨#rico writes #ficlet #the band ghost fanfiction #aeon ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x aeon

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zedif-y · 1 year

Text

It's a quiet, peaceful night on Bread Bridge Two.

Joel hums to himself, his legs dangling over the edge. He's not got any particular song in his head, really, just a tune he'd made up on the fly. Moonlit clouds drift by in faint wisps, the cool breeze against his skin, tussling his hair.

He's been up here for about an hour, he thinks. Not really sure. S'not like he was looking at his timer the whole time, stupid, broken thing.

("Not broken," Grian would repeat, more tired of it than anything. "Time's just different for the audience.")

(Joel makes a face. Whatever that means.)

Whatever. Doesn't matter, really, because what matters is he can't bloody sleep.

So, he rests his weight on the palms of his hands, leaning backwards as he kicks his legs, half-wondering if he should've taken his shoes off for this.

…He's not gonna accidentally kick them off, is he?

And as he thinks about that…

He hears familiar footsteps, light talons on hardwood. Not all stomp-y like Grian's, so really it can only be–

"Joel," Jimmy asks, his face illuminated by torchlight. "Why're you– what're you doing there?"

Joel turns to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Dunno," He replies, just to be an ass. "Why're you awake?"

Jimmy huffs. He makes his way over to him, careful with the crops, before placing down the torch. "Got woken up," He says, then scowls. "Grian's sleep talking again."

Joel snickers, "Loud, innit?" Jimmy sighs, sitting cross-legged at his side. His yellow wings stay folded at his back.

"Very."

They lapse into silence, staring out at the horizon. At the back of his mind, Joel thinks he's just glad they're high up enough not to hear the damn crickets.

Jimmy clears his throat.

"Hey, Joel?"

Joel turns to him, "Hm?"

Jimmy's looking at him, a slight furrow in his brow. He's chewing on his lip all nervous, the soft pink of it shining a little with spit–

Joel's eyes flick back up. Is Jimmy blushing–?

"You gonna say something or what?"

Jimmy swallows, his throat bobbing a little. Joel almost laughs. It's kinda funny, really. Jimmy's so cute.

Joel's about to say so, a grin forming on his face–

"D'you ever…" Jimmy clears his throat again. He rubs the back of his neck, averting his gaze. "D'you ever take your sunglasses off?"

"Is that seriously your question?" Joel asks, incredulous. "What, you missing my pretty eyes or something?"

Jimmy shoves him lightly with his knee, muttering something under his breath. Joel's eyebrows jump up.

"Is that a yes?"

Jimmy sputters, "How'd you–"

What.

Joel laughs, high-pitched and a little strangled. "I didn't hear it, but you kinda gave yourself away there mate, I'm not gonna lie," At Jimmy's grumbling, he adds, "I– do you want me to take 'em off?"

"Not like they're hiding much," Jimmy huffs, "You never wear them right."

Joel rolls his eyes.

Then, quietly, "But yeah, take– take them off."

Something about how he said it makes Joel pause, a tremor in his bones. It's soft, strangely vulnerable– and Joel, for the first time, doesn't want to break it.

(Has he always been this soft? He wonders, glancing at the night sky. Does he hate it?)

He takes them off.

(No, Joel thinks, letting out a breath. No, he doesn't think so.)

Joel sets them aside, and his face feels– kind of empty, he's not gonna lie. He's gotten used to wearing them all the time.

"Weird that you wear them at night, though," Jimmy's feathers twitch, "Like, dude, can you even see–?"

Ugh. "Babe, I already took them off, so stop whining, yeah?" Joel says. He turns back to Jimmy, then frowns, "…What?"

Jimmy's face is pink, his mouth slightly agape. He looks a bit like a fish– an adorable one, at least, but Joel doesn't think he'd appreciate the comparison—

Joel's brain stutters to a stop.

Oh.

"Babe?" Jimmy echoes, "I thought that was a bit."

Joel swallows. There's an itch under his skin, a restless hum in his veins, oh my gosh, "S'just what Bad Boys do," He replies, and immediately wants to hit himself, what the heck– "I mean, uh. Was that weird? You can tell me if it's weird, Jim, I won't–"

"It's not weird," Jimmy cuts in, big brown eyes meeting his. Has he been getting closer–? "I like it."

Huh. "Huh."

Joel really wants to whack himself in the face. Smooth.

"I mean– you do?"

It takes him a second to notice he's been inching closer, too.

Jimmy huffs a laugh, "A little bit, yeah."

"Good," Joel replies, strangled. Are his hands sweating–? "That's– that's good, babe. Uh."

Jimmy giggles, the bastard.

"You good, Joel?"

"Shut up," Joel hisses, his cheeks burning red. "Was there even a point to this?"

"I…" Jimmy furrows his brow, "I was thinking."

Joel wills his hands to stop shaking, please.

"We've not got much time left," Jimmy whispers, eyes flicking down. His feathered ears twitch a little, his legs shifting as the space between shrinks. "Just a bit more and we're on red."

He thinks he's starting to get it, now.

Joel's heart races in his chest, banging against his ribcage like a war drum. "Not much time left to relax," He mumbles in reply, warmth at the tips of his ears. He's never felt so– so shy.

It's just Jimmy, he tells himself, eyes drawn to the curve of his cheek, the small smattering of freckles on his skin. Just Jimmy.

Cute, adorable, pretty Jimmy.

Joel damn near groans. For goodness' sake, this isn't bloody helping.

Jimmy licks his lips, his tongue darting out for a moment–

Joel's eyes follow the movement, drawn to it like a magnet. He jolts, just a little, when a warm hand cups his cheek.

Oh, Joel thinks, melting like putty in his hold. Oh, this is nice.

He's not super used to the whole– gentleness thing. Go figure.

"Can I kiss you?" Jimmy asks, his breath warm against his lips. Joel suppresses a shiver.

His heart pounds in his ears, "It's now or never, right?" He says, "Yes, Jimmy, now can you please– mmf!"

Jimmy kisses him soundly, smiling into it as Joel grabs him by the front, scrambling for purchase. Jimmy's lips are soft against his, careful where Joel decidedly isn't as he kisses back, swallowing the sound Jimmy makes as his eyes flutter shut.

Joel swears his mind melts with every lingering touch, Jimmy's hands setting him on fire as Joel kisses him, again and again and again.

They're still right by the edge, and for a split, heart-racing second, Joel wonders if he's gone tumbling off, his head rushing like he's fallen–

They break apart for air.

They stare at each other with wide eyes, lips parted and gasping. Their chests heave, and Joel can't help but stare at the way his spit shines on Jimmy's lips, so pretty it's unfair.

"I've always wanted to do that," Joel blurts out, too far gone to feel embarrassed. Jimmy gapes at him, "Just– kiss you stupid, 'til neither of us can think."

Jimmy nods his head, so frantic it's almost funny– "Gods yes," He gasps out, reaching for Joel again, "That's–" He lets out a breathy little laugh, "We're halfway there already, I reckon."

Joel laughs, and gosh, his cheeks hurt from smiling. He lets himself be led forward, sunlight bubbling in his chest.

"Guess we ought to finish the job."

#ryan's writing #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #solidarity gaming #smallidarity #limited life #limlife #limited life smp #limlife smp #trafficblr #trafficshipping #trafficship #trafficshipblr #silly goofy guys idk take it

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sailor-aviator · 8 months

Note

I’m sure it’s already been requested but IF it hasn’t I’ll be needing the jail scene from Jake’s POV ASAP 👀

You know, surprisingly enough, you're the only one crazy enough to ask for a different point of view for all the angst lmaooooo

The tapping of Ice's fingers against the desk was going to drive him insane. Jake knew the older man was livid with him, why wouldn't he be? He had done a stupid thing like going and getting caught by the U.S. Marshal of all people.

It was no secret that the marshal was sent in to Maverick with the express purpose of catching the Dagger Posse. They had made quite the name for themselves after the rash of stagecoach robberies they had committed last summer. Times had been hard, and Jake would be damned if the people of Maverick didn't eat.

It was also no secret that Tom "Iceman" Kazansky had a soft spot for the posse, namely Jake. Where Bradley had had Maverick to take over as his father after the epidemic, it had been Ice who had taken the young Jake under his wing - had shown him what it means to be a man.

He knew this was the end of the line for him, there was no doubt about it. Mav and Ice had warned them all over and over again to keep their heads down and to lay low. One more slip up, one more law broken, and they'd be hanged should the Marshal catch them. And it had been quiet, unsuspecting Bob Floyd who had taken the bait.

Jake couldn't fault him for that, of course. He doubted he'd have faired much better if it had been you who the men at the saloon had been speaking ill of. Rage coated his tongue at the very thought, quickly replaced by anguish.

You, his Scout. His spitfire of a woman who never took any of his shit. Who cooked for him and made sure he was taking care of himself, even if he was being a jackass. His beautiful, brave girl who loved him.

Jake was so lost in thought that he barely caught Tom turning to the marshal.

"You look tired, Beau," he drawled, his tapping ceasing. "Why don't you go and have a drink down at the saloon?"

"I wouldn't want to leave you alone..."

"Nonsense! Go on and get something. You have a long day ahead of you come sunrise."

Jake heard a chair scrape against the wood floor followed by some shuffling around the room.

"I shouldn't be too long," Beau said, voice sounding farther away.

"Take your time!" Tom called back, his chair creaking as he leaned back. The door to the jail opened and then closed with a slam, leaving the room in silence.

Jake rested his head against the wall of his cell, eyes close and waiting for Tom to get up and begin lecturing him like he always does. But it doesn't come.

Instead, the door opened once more, creaking slowly.

"You shouldn't be here, darlin'," Tom says after a moment, an underlying sense of mirth in his tone. One that Jake knew he only had when he was caught off guard.

"Where is he?"

Jake's eyes shot open as he lurched forward.

"Scout?" He called tentatively. He could see your figure peer around where Tom now stood.

"Are you sure you're ready to see him like this?" He asked quietly. You drew your shoulders back in an attempt at defiance, but Jake saw you. He always saw you. He saw how scared you were, how desperate.

What were you thinking coming here? This was no place for you, and he'd be damned if you ever set foot in this place again.

"Please." Jake's heart nearly broke right then and there at the sound of the small tremble in your voice. "Please let me see him."

Tom watched you for a second before gesturing for you to go forward. "You have five minutes, Scout."

Jake scrambled to his feet as you entered the back room, the chains around his wrists and ankles hindering some of his movements.

Jake's heart truly broke when he saw the tears begin to slide down your face. Once again they were because of him, and he hated himself like never before in that moment. You should never have to cry. You should only ever smile, he thought.

A sob tore through you as you stumbled forward, and Jake reached out to catch you as best he could. He eased the both of you down onto the ground as sob after sob racked your body, tears staining his shirt with guilt.

“Please don’t cry, Scout,” he soothed, pressing firm kisses to the top of your head. He wished he had more time. “Everything is okay.”

“It’s not okay,” you sobbed pitifully. “It’s not, so don’t tell me that it is.”

“These things happen, honey girl,” he sighed, holding you tighter, afraid that this was all just a dream made up to torment him in his final hours. An angel sent down to comfort him before he was sent to hell. “You wanna tell me what you’re doing here?”

You pulled back to look at him, eyes red and puffy from crying. Tears slowly streamed down your face, and still you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen on this earth.

“It was Isaac, Jake. It was all a setup. I saw him in the crowd this morning. He planned the whole thing," you murmured, lips pressing into a thin line to keep from trembling.

Jake felt shame and guilt clench at his heart. None of this would have ever happened if he had just been smarter about what he had done in the past. You wouldn't be clinging to him like the very action of letting him go would kill him on the spot. You wouldn't be shaking with anguish. You wouldn't be utterly destroyed come tomorrow.

"I know."

You balked, staring up at him with unsure eyes, brow furrowing.

“What do you mean?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. Jake sighed again, resting his forehead against one of the bars, not able to bare looking at your face.

“I saw him too,” he admitted, eyes closing.

“We have to do something, Jake! We have to tell them that this was-” You cried, turning to move away, but he grabbed your hand to stop you. You turned back to him, and Jake felt the sting of tears kiss at his eyes as he looked at you. He pulled you back, his rough hands cradling the soft skin of your cheeks as he stared at you. You were everything he ever wanted in life, and it seemed that the price for that fulfillment was his final breath.

“There’s no time, pretty girl,” he murmured, anguish coating his own words. “There’s just no time left.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered, tears starting anew. Jake stroked your cheeks, catching the stray tears as they fell. He never wanted things to end like this. He wanted you to know, and now was his only chance to say it.

“Scout, these past few months have been the happiest of my life. I never thought I’d meet a spitfire like you, let alone get someone like you to love me. I have loved every minute spent with you. I love the way you scrunch your nose when you’re mad. I love when you yell at me when I’m being an idiot. I love when you smile at me when you think I’m not lookin’. I love how you feel in my arms and how completely happy you make me feel.”

“Why does this sound like you’re saying goodbye?” You asked him, a sob shaking your entire body. “You’re not dying on me. If you die, I die, you understand me?”

Jake smiled ruefully at you. His smart, strong girl. You'd make a wonderful wife one day. You'd make someone else happy, and maybe one day you'd be happy again too. That's all he ever wanted for you, and if he had any power in the afterlife, he'd see to it that you got the life you deserved. He hoped you'd remember him.

He reached into his pocket, searching for the token that he'd carried around since spotting it in a shop in Baltimore. He pulled it out, presenting it to you.

It wasn't anything in your face like the emerald or other jewels that he had seen. No, it was plain in comparison, but still beautiful. He supposed it reminded him a little of you. You had seemed so unassuming at first glance, beautiful yes, but a quiet thing. Then, the more he looked, the more complex and intricate you became, just like the gold bands of the pendant. You shined in a way that drew people in, making them want to look longer.

“I know that it’s not the emerald,” he started, “but it’s all I could afford with the money I had leftover from working at the ranch.”

You stared at it, eyes darting around as you took it in.

"I don't want it."

Jake's heart clenched at your words. Had you finally come to your senses and realized that you deserved better than him?

“Jake Seresin,” you said firmly, fixing him with a scowl. “You promised to make an honest woman out of me, and I’ll be damned if I let you worm your way out of keeping that promise, do you hear me?”

He couldn't help but to chuckle, resting his head on his forearms. That's what you were thinking about in this moment? Didn't you understand what was happening?

“Honey girl, what on earth am I supposed to do with this necklace now?”

“You can give it to me when you get out of here,” you sniffed, eyes tracing over the lines on his face. “You can give it to me, and then you and I are going to grow old together.”

All humor left him at your words. How could you still think that that future was possible in this moment? Surely you were joking? Surely you knew that this was the end?

Still, Jake couldn't help but imagine what his future with you would look like.

You'd look beautiful in your wedding dress, he was sure of it. White was becoming more popular, but would you choose a different color Blue or green? He kind of liked the idea of you wearing white, and the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that was the color you'd choose.

He thought about what you'd look like round and swollen with him, a baby made up of the two of you resting in your stomach until one day it was resting in your arms. He kind of liked the idea of having a little girl first, but so long as the baby was healthy and strong, he wouldn't complain.

And then you'd have more children, the house echoing with the sounds of laughter and running as he came in from the pastures for the day. Would he build you a new house? Or would he convince Benji to let him have the one you lived in now? No, he'd build you a new one. One fit for a queen.

You'd swat at his hand with that scowl he loved so much every time he'd sneak a bite of dinner before it was ready to be served. He'd kiss your cheek affectionately and tell you that it tasted perfect as always, smoothing a hand down your back.

He'd sleep next to you every night, laying in bed until the last possible second until he inevitably had to get up in the morning. And then he'd stay even longer when you would reach out for him.

He'd reassure you of how beautiful you still were even with those pesky grey hairs that now littered your head. Really, he think you'd look even more beautiful with age, the evidence of your life etched into your skin. He would trace every wrinkle with love and adoration.

The two of you would watch your grandchildren play in the yard, holding hands as you rocked in the chairs Jake would hand carve. His thumb would smooth over the back of your weathered hand, squeezing it as his thoughts drifted towards the life you two had shared.

Jake knew that the two of you would have to leave this world at the same time. You would be wrapped up in each other, breathing your last at the same moment before walking hand in hand through those pearly gates in the sky, young as the day you two had met.

He couldn't bare the thought of living in this world without you.

And yet, here he was about to leave you in a world without him in it.

He looked up when Tom cleared his throat, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Your time is up, Scout,” he said quietly, gently. “The marshal will be back any moment.”

You nodded, looking back at Jake before pulling him into desperate, tender kiss. He kissed you back with just as much fervor and passion, the tears coming back with a vengeance.

It wasn't fair. He didn't want to leave you. He wanted to grow old with you, side by side and facing anything that life threw at the two of you. He wanted to watch you laugh and smile at him every day. He wanted to feel your skin pressed against his. He wanted everything you would give him. He just got you back, and now he had to say goodbye.

Jake didn't want to die. He wanted to live. With you.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, helping you stand from the wooden floor. He felt a tear roll down his cheek, and you raised a hand to brush it away. He caught your hand, holding it to his face and committing the touch to memory. He turned into your palm, placing once last kiss there, promising himself that he would watch over you. He would think about how soft you were, how sweet you smelled when they placed the rope around his neck at the gallows. Every thought would be filled with you.

"See you on the other side, honey girl."

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