#kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

[sintied]

↳ @familylightfox asked: The last few days had felt like a bit of a blur. But the hybrid had at least come inside to lounge himself on the couch, even though his larger frame partially hung off it. Darkened eyes followed his partner around the room for a time before reaching out and dragging him over for some nuzzles and licks. First to a cheek, then a shoulder, followed by his neck. Lips parted to draw the skin into his mouth where he lightly nibbled and sucked.

He knew the hickey wouldn’t last, but that wouldn’t stop him from leaving them.

{➹} – THERE WAS A GOOD amount of amusement on the hero's part seeing the hybrid sat like that, but as much as he wanted to poke some fun the hedgehog had a few other things to see to. Like a bit of clean up and making sure other things around the house were alright. Just because the last few days had been off from their norm didn't mean housework could stop for too long.

Having been idly humming as he did so, there was more of a squeak than anything as he was pulled in the opposite direction he had been heading and into the pile of fur. It was enough to make him chuckle, but the licks and nuzzled certainly helped turn it into a full blown laugh, then a sultry purr as lips found his neck. True, the mark wouldn't last long but sometimes Arrow swore that only made his partner more determined at times.

More reason to properly sit himself in the other's lap and gently cup their face with both hands before bringing their lips together.

[sinwcrthy]

+ | x |

     {➹} – EXACTLY THE REACTION he had been hoping for. A tad sudden on the hero's part, maybe, but it wasn't as if the hybrid had complained. The book may not have fared the best but it was a manageable sacrifice.

He feigned thought for a moment, though hardly made a real move to get away as he looked down at his partner. There was no hiding the playfulness in his voice nonetheless. "That was actually my exact plan. Unless you want me t' stay, of course. Can't imagine you'll be acting out any sort of revenge if I do."

A lie if there ever was one.

| @hybridafterdark

[never-surrender]

@afterdeaths \\ cont

The wizard continued to save her over and over again, time after time she found herself in situations where she was in danger... perhaps she could blame it on Xander himself, but she certainly wasn't exactly innocent in the matter.

What mattered, was the fact she nearly died right then. that fireball would have surely sent her into a mist and sent her back to her coffin if Xander hadn't intervened. What mattered, was the fact that he had been there... he was always there, right at her side or close by when she needed him most, and that meant more to her than she could possibly express.

She had acted before she could have thought about it if she were being honest with herself. Aurelia wasn't one to initiate such a thing, and yet here she was, kissing him, her lips as tender as can be against his own...

Not that he seemed to mind none.

"O-oh... did-" her worries were cut off by another kiss, one that has her back bowing back, hands immediately finding perch on his shoulders, eyes wide until they slowly shut and she all but melts into the kiss proper.

This had been such a long time coming. Parting from him after a short time, Aurelia makes a soft breathy noise as she leans her forehead forward, resting it against his chin as she struggles to catch her breath and get a handle on the myriad of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.

"I...I think I've wanted to do that for ... a while..." the admission comes in a whisper, a breathy sound of laughter rising as she finally pulls her head back to look at him proper.

[sintied]

{➹} – ARROW COULD GET BEHIND that, and he wouldn't argue it as he smiled down at the hybrid. Things could have been worse, a lot worse, but they hadn't gotten that far and that was the important thing. The hero could only hope that it was an isolated incident, something triggered by his state and the full moon, but they would have to see.

If it did, he could only hope it went as well as that evening did. Even if they didn't necessarily do everything they had tonight.

Though it seemed if Volt had things their way that there would indeed be a repeat. Again, the hero had to snort. He had expected as much, and just like last time he had surprised himself with his actions during their session. Could he say he was any more a fan of it than before...?

He wasn't sure, but he knew that it provoke something that he did like in his partner. The look the other was giving him said it all, and the hero had to fight down an honest temptation right then and there. He would chalk it up to his current state, and nothing more at the moment.

"We'll see." The way his fangs flashed in a smirk may have been more telling than he intended, just like the flick of his tongue against the other's neck. One last tease. "I do like...makin' you sing."

The nuzzle proved the words and brought an audible purr from the hybrid's throat as he returned it as gently as possible. Much like his partner, Volt had no intentions of moving more than he already had.

At most, his other hand had started to move through fur and quills.

"We'll call it payback... for all the times I've scared you." That was how he was going to look at it. What happened earlier was nothing his partner could have controlled or stopped. Volt wasn't hurt and got through to the hero before they could injure him.

The few bites and scratches that had followed after were consensual and didn't count.

"But... If I asked ya t' bite me... One more time while you're like this before the month ends..."

The way violet eyes shined in the moonlight likely gave away some of the hybrid's reasoning for the question. Although his tone had remained playful, there was some seriousness to his question.

[mariasont]

short n sweet but we need one where spencer loves head scratches and getting his hair played with

Heart Nebula - S.R

summary: spencer tells you every atom in your body was once part of a star, but you think he's the celestial wonder worth studying. pairings: spencer reid x reader warnings: fluff galore, existentialism, star-gazing, astrophysics inaccuracies im so sure wc: 2.1k

"You'd be so proud of me today, you know."

You scoot closer, disrupting the careful folds of the blanket. The fabric bunches beneath your legs, damp soil seeps through, not quite wet enough to be a problem, but enough to make you aware of it. A blade of grass tickles stubbornly at your ankle. You wiggle your foot once, twice, it stays. Some things do.

Your pinky grazes his, the barest of contact, but he turns his head anyway. The night seems to fold him in shadow, softens his features, makes him look almost ethereal. His eyes give him away, glinting back at you, tiny shards of cosmos blinking back at you. It should be impossible to feel jealously of the sky, and yet.

"Yeah?" The familiar crease settles between his brows, a well-loved marker in the pages of him. His head tilts, waiting, not impatiently, already certain he's going to love your answer. "Why's that?"

Your smile jumps ahead of you, swells into one of those too-big-for-your-face grins. The kind that crinkles your nose, bunches your cheeks, makes your face ache after a while.

"I learned about a nebula."

Spencer's laugh starts in his chest and works its way out, rattling through his ribs, shaking his shoulders, until the momentum knocks his knee into yours.

"Look at you," he says, all teasing admiration. "I am proud. Which one?"

"I think It was called the Heart Nebula?" You glance at him, waiting, watching, half-hoping that he'll recognize the name, that he'll give you that little nod of confirmation.

He does. You beam.

"I saw a picture earlier, and it was just—," You trail off, eyes tipping upwards, letting the sky steal whatever poetic explanation you were about to give. "I don't know. Too beautiful to be real."

Spencer had been so excited when you told him you wanted to stargaze, his eyes had practically glowed, already rattling off a dozen facts about atmospheric conditions and celestial visibility, and why tonight was perfect.

He barely took a breath before he had been launching into a dozen more reasons, winding himself up so tight with words that the only way to release them, apparently, was kissing you. Feverishly.

Like he had no other way to translate his excitement into something tangible, something felt.

It made you want to promise him everything, to tell him you'd do this forever, that you'd let him drag you under the stars a thousand times over if it meant being kissed like that.

Spencer glances at you, his mouth twitching like you've just said the punchline to a joke you don't realize you're telling. You're here, waxing about a sky full of ancient light, calling the Heart Nebula too beautiful to be real, and he's looking at you like you've missed the most obvious part.

You narrow your eyes, but he only shakes his head, like whatever crossed his mind was his to keep.

"The Heart Nebula is full of newborn stars," he tells you, gaze still pointed on the sky. "Their radiation makes the gas glow red, pink. The whole thing shifts under stellar winds, reshaping itself, over and over again."

His voice wades its way through the parts of your brain, finding its place. He has this way of explaining things, of turning something infinite into something intimate. 

And you love that. Love how he does that. Love the way he sees things. Love him.

"It's about 7,500 light-years away. Which means the light we're seeing now left before humans even figured out agriculture." A small, disbelieving laugh escapes him. "By the time it reaches us, whatever we're looking at doesn't exist the same way anymore. It's already changed. Probably unrecognizable."

His fingers twitch against his thigh, probably resisting the urge to gesture. "Space is weird like that."

"I don't know, Spence," you tease, fingers pinching the sleeve of his shirt, catching just enough of him to feel real. His dimple carves into his cheek and your heart stumbles, caught between beats. "It kind of sounds like you're telling me I can't trust my own eyes."

"Well, technically you can't." He turns fully toward you, dimple still firmly in place, eyes flicking, too quickly, too obviously, to your lips. "The human eye takes in scattered bits of light, and your brain—" he taps your temple for emphasis "—fills in the blanks. Adjusts for shadows, alters colors based on what it thinks is there. Your eyes are compulsive liars."

He pauses, tiling his head, considering. "And since our perception is limited by our optic nerves, no one really sees their own eyes the way others do. Which is a shame, because if you could see yours the way I do, you'd understand why I can't help but stare."

There are moments when Spencer says something so casually devastating that your brain just empties, and this is absolutely one of them. Your mouth opens, then closes again.

"That's—" Your voice catches, so you clear your throat, shake your head, try to reassemble your thoughts. "That's a really unfair thing to say, you know."

Spencer blinks, like he’s running back through the conversation in real time, replaying his own words to figure out what, exactly, made you forget how to breathe. 

"Why?"

"Because some of us have a very delicate hold on their emotional stability, and you—” you point at him, accusing “— just shattered it in two sentences."

"Technically, that’s the limbic system at work. The amygdala controls emotional reactivity, but the prefrontal cortex tempers it."

You would try to unpack that, really, you would, but then his hands find your waist, and suddenly the ground isn't where you thought it was. You gasp, giggle, crash right into him, catching yourself with shaking hands against his chest.

"So really," he continues, as if you aren't sprawled across him, "if your emotional stability was shattered, you should blame your neural pathways, not me."

Your fingers twist in his hair as you lean in to kiss him, deeply and thoroughly, like proof, like inevitability maybe, a thought forming in real time, one you can press straight into his skin. 

"Maybe my neural pathways are just adapting to something worth remembering," you whisper, and the way he stills, the way his lips part just slightly, makes you think you might not be the only one.

Spencer makes a small, pleased noise against your lips, something that was half sighed and smiled, and you feel it, all of it, in the way his throat moves beneath your fingertips as he swallows.

"That... might be my favorite use of neuroscience yet."

You flash him a grin. "And you thought I wasn't paying attention when you ramble."

"I should've known you'd find a way to weaponize it."

You let your full weight settle onto him, chin perched on his chest, his heartbeat a slow song beneath your cheek. Your fingers slip into his hair, threading through soft strands, nails scraping lightly over his scalp, testing a theory you already know the answer to.

Yeah. Definite reaction.

"So that's what it takes, huh?" you tease, lips curling against the material of his shirt. You scratch again to be sure, and his next breath comes slower. "Just a well-placed brain chemistry reference?"

"From you? Yeah, that'll do it."

"Noted." A pause. Then, softer. "Keep talking to me about space."

"You know, you're kind of demanding." Spencer's fingers skate along your waist before he squeezes, firm and quick, like a punctuation mark to his sentence. 

Your head lifts, eyebrow quirked, fingers hovering just out of reach, close enough for him to feel the absence. "Excuse me?"

His smirk vanishes instantly, wiped clean, replaced by something perilously close to distress. His hands twitch at your waist, fingers moving like he can pull you back, like he can make you continue if he just wants it badly enough.

"Wait, wait, I was kidding," he rushes out, voice just shy of frantic. “Don't stop."

You grin, tilting your head like you're considering it. "Hmmm. Apologize."

"I—okay, I'm sorry, you're perfect, please—" his breath hitches, his laugh a little wild, a little helpless, "please keep going."

You giggle, fingertips weaving back into his hair. His response is immediate, a low, shaky sound that buzzes against your skin, something so content it makes warmth spreads through you like a lit fuse, spilling all the way down to your toes.

Spencer smirks, fingers drumming against your waist.

"You really don't let a guy off easy, do you?" He pauses for a second, glancing past you at the sky like he's taking in his options.

"Alright. Here's a fact you might like, every single part of you was once part of a star. All the heavier elements in your body, oxygen, carbon, nitrogen, they were formed in the core of ancient stars, forged under immense heat and pressure, then scattered across the galaxy when those stars died, reforming."

His words drift to you, but you don't catch them all. You're too busy watching him.

Out here, in the absence of light pollution, you can see him more clearly than ever. The starlight doesn't just touch him, it claims him, dusting his skin in silver, catching in his lashes, turning the slopes of him almost unreal. Like if you blink too long, he might disappear, slip back into the night where he belongs. A constellation carved into the shape of a person.

You used to think brown was such a simple color. But then you met him, saw his eyes, now it's in everything. Wet earth after rain, cinnamon dusted over coffee, burnt sugar on your tongue.

And now, he’s teaching you it’s also carbon and oxygen forged in the cores of dying stars, pieces of the galaxy that had traveled billions of years to become chocolate flecks on a beautiful face.

He was right, it is a shame people never see their eyes the way others do.

"But how?" you ask. "Like... how does something go from being part of a star to being part of us?"

Spencer exhales softly and you can see the way he loves the question.

 "It's a long process. Billions of years, actually. When a star explodes, it sends all those elements out into space. They mix with other interstellar material, forming new stars, planets, and eventually..." He taps a gentle finger against your stomach. "You."

"That's kind of incredible."

Spencer huffs a quiet laugh, grinning, that beautiful grin, the one that makes your chest feel too small for your heart. His fingers find your temple, trail gently down to your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Then, without pause, he leans in and presses the gentlest kiss to your nose.

"It is," he murmurs, thumb brushing against your cheek. "We're built from pieces of space, borrowed, passed down, stitched together by time."

"So you're saying we've been part of the same universe forever? That's kind of romantic, Spence."

"It's also backed by astrophysics. Science just happens to be romantic sometimes. "

"Well, good," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his neck. "I like knowing there's proof... but I think I would've believed it anyway."

You barely have time to register the flicker in his eyes before, he moves. In a second, you're on your back, the sky stretching endlessly behind him. The stars flicker, countless and beautiful, but right now, they might as well not exist.

Because all you see is him.

He hovers over you, gaze intent, studying you, like you're a phenomenon he never expected to witness up close. Like he's sure now, more than he's ever been about anything. Like you are the discovery of a lifetime.

"The universe has been expanding for 13.8 billion years," he murmurs, fingers trailing along your jaw. "But I don't think it's ever made anything more beautiful than you."

Heat blooms beneath your skin. "More than the Heart Nebula?"

It should sound like teasing. It doesn't.

Spencer exhales, almost like he's amused by your doubt.

"The Heart Nebula exists purely because gravity and radiation dictate that it must. But you..." His gaze softens. "You exist because of a thousand tiny impossibilities stacking on top of each other. The odds of you, of this, are so astronomically low that it shouldn't have happened at all."

Spencer just looks at you for a moment. You don't move, don't breathe. And then he kisses you.

It crashes over you, stealing your breath before you even realize it's happening. His hands tighten at your sides, pulling you closer, like the space between you is unbearable. It's not rushed nor desperate, but it is consuming, the kind of thing that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

When he breaks away, he doesn't go far, forehead resting against yours. "If the universe was capable of making something more beautiful, it would have done it by now."

And maybe that’s true. Maybe the universe, for all its galaxies and nebulae and infinite expanse, never did anything better than this. Not just you, but you and him together. 

Or maybe the universe will never quite get it right again. Because maybe this was its best work.

But it won’t stop trying. It never does. Even after you’re gone, even after you and Spencer are nothing but scattered atoms, the universe will keep going. Creating. Expanding. Changing. New stars will be born, dust will settle into something new, planets will form, galaxies will stretch apart. And maybe, somewhere, the pieces that were once you and him will find their way back to each other. And maybe, if the universe has any kindness left in it, they’ll get to love like this.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[lovemomhatepolice]

gladiator - charles leclerc

navigation taglist requests

pairing: charlec leclerc x fem! reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, pet names, slight! public sex, p in v English is my second language!

type: smut!

word count: 1k

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER

summary: did you have to wear that dress in public?

more content: formula 1 masterlist, charles leclerc masterlist

a/n: I encourage you to give requests in the Christmas marathon! click here :) and my first thousand celebration

The London evening was bustling with energy as the premiere of Gladiator 2 rolled out its gold carpet. Stars and fans gathered in crowds, cameras flashed in the dazzling lights of the city. Charles Leclerc stood at the center of it all, looking effortless in an elegant black suit and clean white shirt that fit his figure perfectly. His hair was neatly styled, and his trademark charm was on full display as he posed for photos, but his attention was constantly drifting to one person: his girlfriend, [Y/N].

You were radiant in an almost transparent floor-length gown that clung to her curves in all the right places. The larger material was on her breasts and hips, while the rest remained a bright shiny mesh. Charles couldn't take his eyes - let alone his hands - off you.

"You're going to be the death of me tonight." - he whispered in her ear as they stopped for a moment away from the cameras. His hand rested lightly on her back, and his fingers traced the exposed skin on her back with a light touch that sent chills down her spine.

She smiled, looking up at him through her lashes. "Behave yourself, Charles. We're in a public place," he said.

"I can't," he muttered, his voice low and full of desire. "Not when you look like that.

The tension between the two of you was enormous, and it only grew as the evening progressed. When it was after the movie premiere and Charles had given all the interviews, he grabbed your hand tightly and winked: "I need you. Now”

"Here?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

He did not answer with words. Instead, he led you discreetly down a quiet corridor, away from the crowd. He found a vacant bathroom and pushed open the door, pulling you inside. He closed the door carefully behind you and his hands were immediately on your hips. And your lips joined in a heated kiss.

"You're unbelievable," you breathed between kisses, your hands entwined in his hair as he pressed your back against the cool tile wall.

"I can't help it," he murmured, and his voice was quiet as his hands roamed your curves, sliding down to grip your thigh and lift your leg around his waist. "All I could think about all night was you.”

You moaned quietly as he kissed your neck, his teeth brushing against your skin just enough to make it tremble. His hand moved down your leg, pushing aside its thin material.

Charles smiled under his breath when he felt your wet thong, and smiled even more when he matured that they were the ones he had given you himself.

"Mon dieu," he groaned as his fingers glided over the wet material. "You are death to me."

Charles growled softly, his lips capturing hers in another fiery kiss as his fingers slipped inside her, curling just right. Her moan filled the small space, and he couldn’t help but smirk against her lips.

“You’re so ready for me,” he murmured, his free hand sliding up to cup her jaw as he kissed her deeply.

[Y/N] couldn’t form a coherent response, her body arching into his touch as he worked her with expert precision. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and the sound of her pleasure was like music to his ears.

“Charles,” you gasped, your voice breaking as he added a second finger, his thumb brushing over your sensitive clit. “Please.”

“Not yet, baby,” he teased, looking straight into your eyes.

Charles' fingers worked inside you with precision, coiling inside you and hitting just the right spot, while his thumb circled your clitoris in perfect rhythm. The combination of his touch and the way he watched you - his green eyes darkened with desire - made your orgasm come faster than you could have expected.

Your hips bucked impatiently against his hand as waves of pleasure hit you. Charles didn't stop moving his fingers inside you, and his lips placed gentle kisses on your jaw and neck as you came down from your orgasm.

„That was amazing” you murmured, kissing his lips in steamy kiss. 

„That’s not the end” he responded. „Turn around for me pretty thing”

Obediently you turned toward the wall, moving more towards the mirror. You saw exactly how Charles stepped back just enough to undo his belt and pants, his movements quick and desperate. The sight of his ready and hard dick at your sight again amplified the wave of heat between your legs.

His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed against you, his erection teasing your entrance.

"Charles," you moaned, glancing at him in the reflection of the mirror.

The man kissed your shoulder, slowly guiding his member to your entrance. He gently lifted your leg, holding it with one hand. You didn't take your eyes off him in the mirror, and as soon as he pushed into you slowly, filling you inch by inch, his gaze also caught yours in the mirror.

The stretch was perfect, and the way he fit inside you, maybe too much, but exactly what you needed. When he was fully seated, he paused for a moment, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath and be reasonably quiet. After all, you had risked a lot by making love in a public restroom at a movie premiere.

"Fuck, you feel amazing." - he muttered, and you could hear the admiration in his voice.

You pressed against him, and your body was already even aching for him to move. "Charles, please."

That was enough for him to do everything she wanted. His hips began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, but quickly gaining intensity. The sound of skin touching skin filled the small bathroom, accompanied by your shared moans and heavy breaths.

One of his hands slid down to your front, and his fingers found your clitoris again and easily. You felt that you were moments away from the longed-for fulfillment that was to come a second time that evening.

"You're so perfect," he moaned, his voice strained as he pushed harder, deeper. "So fucking perfect.”

You looked in the mirror, perfectly seeing Charles enter and exit you. It was the best view and feeling you had ever experienced in your life. You were so perfectly matched that it was downright exaggerated.

"Come to me," he mumbled, brushing his lips against your ear. "Let me feel you."

His words accelerated your orgasm. You slid lightly across the mirror, one hand clinging to Charles. Your walls clamped down on him, accelerating his orgasm. Charles joined you, moaning your name as you felt his cum inside you fill you.

For a long moment you stood like that, trying to calm down. Charles continued inside you, but slowly came out and let you clean yourself up, and carefully fastened his pants himself, bringing them back into order. He also helped do this to you with your dress, placing gentle kisses on your body.

“You’re going to kill me one day,” he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

You laughed breathlessly, turning to face him with a teasing smile. “You started it, Charlie”

“Well, you should have not worn that dress,” he murmured, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a kiss to your lips.

And even though you could hear knocking on the door all around you, and all that media hype a little further away, for you the world did not exist.

A/N: i swear!! charles and carlos looked so good at that premiere

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[sintied]

{➹} – THE HERO SNORTED at the hybrid's answer, not that he argued it. It wasn't as if the shower was going anywhere after all, and now that the door had been cracked open, Arrow liked to think that they would be sharing in at least a few more showers together. Maybe not quite as eventful as their one that evening, but with one another nonetheless. The thought alone made the hedgehog smile.

Though maybe it also had a little to do with the kiss and four words that followed. One more statement the hero wouldn't argue with.

"An' I'll keep doing it until you stop me." And they both knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Not within their lifetimes anyway. They got too much of a kick out if it, had too much fun. And after the lives they had lived, their struggles and obstacles, they both deserved a bit of spoiling. And, whatmore, were happy to give it to one another.

Just as much as they were happy to finally wrap up their night there in bed together, facing one another for the time being. Though the hedgehog had full intentions of cuddling up to the hybrid in due time.

But not before smiling at those words, and buried his nose under the other's chin. "Love you too. And thanks for letting me try something new tonight."

From the moment their eyes had met, the smirk on his partner was responded with one of the hybrid’s own. Every so often, his muscles would twitch from the lingering pleasure but mismatched arms were delighted to bring the hero closer when they joined him on the bed. Heavy pants intermingled with audible purrs as the space between them closed, and he still had the mind to keep from getting any of his spent seed on his husband when they cuddled.

Or at least he was going to try to.

“Just means…. We can shower… again… in the… mornin’.” That was how he’d look at it. Volt tilted his head so that he could rub one fluffy cheek against his soulmate’s head and sneak a kiss in the process.

“You spoil me Liebe.” What more could he say? But it wasn’t like the opposite wasn’t true. They spoiled each other every chance they got. Which was why he only rolled over to his side of the bed long enough to grab a tissue and clean himself as best he could. Rolling over to face his partner once discarded, a gentle bump of their noses before he settled in.

“Love you.”

[eremikayearner]

first kiss ‹𝟹 itoshi rin

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in which itoshi rin is your first kiss. and you are his.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ for all his good looks, itoshi rin has never had his first kiss.

hell, he’s never held hands with someone before.

well, that is until you.

you were dumbfounded when you’d first learned of this little fun fact about blue lock’s star, itoshi rin.

he was beautiful. itoshi rin with his striking and intense teal gaze. itoshi rin with his gorgeous long lashes. itoshi rin with his silky dark hair that swept over his face. itoshi rin with his angel-carven features. itoshi rin with his perfect soft lips. itoshi rin with the delicate dip of his collarbones. itoshi rin with his strong broad shoulders. itoshi rin with his perfectly sculpted body. itoshi rin with his perfect waist. itoshi rin with his heavenly voice.

yet, with all his magnetism, he had never used his god-given assets for romantic advances.

of all the girls he could possibly have, there was no other girl he could ever want but you.

so now, here you stood, underneath the wisteria tree in your garden, with none other than itoshi rin right in front of you.

oh, how could this be?

his angelic eyes met yours, his gaze so impossibly soft.

and you think now, this is the most beautiful itoshi rin has ever looked. his bangs are brushed perfectly out of his eyes, revealing the gorgeous boy you had come to fall hopelessly in love with. his lips are as soft and kissable as ever. here he stands, itoshi rin, with the most vulnerable and soft gaze, reserved for the light in his life, in other words, you.

you hold your breath, too aware of the ever closing space between the two of you.

you gasp softly as you feel calloused fingers gently seek out yours, intertwining your fingers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your delicate hand.

oh, god. doesn’t he know you’ve never had your first kiss either? doesn’t he know you’ve never even touched a boy before him? doesn’t he know that there are hundreds, no, thousands, of other girls who would die to touch him?

rin’s lips lifted in the most heart-capturing smile, reading you like a book. for god’s sake, you could have been a book from the way your thoughts, expressions and gestures were so familiar for him to read. but that was what you loved about this impossible boy. he had come to know you better than he had ever known anybody else.

the wind kissed his hair, brushing it fully out of his eyes and brushed your hair gently in the breeze.

his voice was soft. “there is no other girl for me but you, y/n.”

and oh, god, you could have melted.

itoshi rin with his soft voice. itoshi rin with his sweet, gentle touches. itoshi rin with his assuring, lovely words. itoshi rin with his brilliant mind. itoshi rin with his everloving romantic heart. itoshi rin with his perfect, beautiful soul that is forever entangled with yours.

his eyes were pools of longing, an intense yearning he could only ever feel for you.

his fingers tightened on yours, and oh, he looked at you like you had come from heaven. “it’ll only ever be you.”

your lips parted as your heart fluttered and your chest warmed, the invisible string of light between you drawing you closer and closer to each other.

your heart leapt in your chest as you felt his large, rough, hand slide to cup your face. your breath hitched as he moved closer, tilting your head up to meet his lips.

“i don’t deserve you, rin.” you breathed, your eyes locked on his.

“i don’t deserve you.” rin murmured, his eyes drifting to your mouth. just before his lips met yours, he whispered, “you’re perfect.”

the moment both your eyes fluttered shut, your lips connected, the world bloomed into a thousand beams of light. your whole body seemed to be filled with a warm glow as you succumbed to the only thought you were even capable of having :

itoshi rin. itoshi rin. itoshi rin.

your graceful hand lifted and gently rested on his chest as his hand snaked further into your hair, guiding your mouth to open under his and deepening the kiss. and oh, it was perfect. soft, yielding, gentle and giving. one allowing the other to taste and touch their soul.

when he pulled away from your mouth, his pupils were blown wide, leaving merely a stunning green ring around them. the look in his eyes sealed the deal. yes, this boy right here, itoshi rin, you would marry him.

“you’re the only one who will ever have me, y/n.” he said, his thumb circling around your hand gently as his hands seemed to sink further into your hair. His eyes were pools of worship and devotion as his cheeks flushed pink. “i’m yours.”

he was trying to destroy you. how could this sweet angel of a boy be yours?

your fingers fisted in the material of his clothes, pulling him close to you once more as light glowed within you, a soft knowing smile lifting your pretty lips.

“you’re mine.” you said, as he dipped his head to meet your lips once more, wisteria petals blowing in the breeze. just before your lips could connect once more, you whispered, “and i’m yours.”

your first kiss was rin. your rin.

and you were his.

[tetzoro]

fluffy little blurb of kissing zoro’s scarred eye . established relationship (?) WC : 622 . dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

“do you trust me?” your words jumbled out in one shaky breath of air as you make your approach towards zoro — the man who had been taking his mid-afternoon nap on the sunny’s deck for the past half hour.

“huh?” zoro cracked his eye open, watching you kneel before him. the golden sky illuminated behind you, wrapping around you in a soft hue of innocence, a stark contrast to your usual demeanor. something was definitely on your mind, so he raised his head up off of the wooden banister he was using as a pillow.

“i said do you trust me?” you repeat, your hand gently resting on his forearm. the vulnerable look in your eye told him that you weren’t pulling any tricks, not a drop of mischief in your irises that held the hope of a thousand stars.

of course he trusted you, you were one of the people he trusted most in this world. always beside him while fighting through whatever challenges you all faced, sitting next to him during meals times, keeping him company while he works out. you’re privy to everything in his life. the question was almost laughable.

“yes.” zoro answered simply. he was curious as to what brought on this sudden question though. did he do something that made you think he didn’t trust you?

“good. close your eye.” you whispered, leaning into his personal space now. if he had to guess, he figured you were about to crawl into his lap like you sometimes do when you nap with him, curling into his body before the two of you doze off under the warm sun.

so he doesn’t argue with you, lets you do whatever you please and shuts his eye.

but you didn’t move.

he wanted to open his eye back up to see what you were up to but as if you read his mind — your voice hums, reminding him to be patient.

zoro feels your presence getting closer, your face moving towards his. were you going to kiss him? he squirmed a little under the uncertainty.

but you surprise him, you always do. gently, you press your lips against his scarred eye, a feathers touch that if he wasn’t so keen with his observation; he might’ve missed it. the kiss itself didn’t linger, but your presence did, the reassurance flooding through his veins and drowning him in the light of your love.

the closeness begins to mend a fracture in his heart that he never knew about, carefully stitching it back together with a thread of affection he hopes never goes away — stubbornly imprinting itself on the ever beating muscle that sings to the rhythm of your name.

zoro accepted the state of his eye long ago. positively convinced that it will make him stronger, that when he finally reaches his goal, it will become that much greater because of all the challenges he’s had to overcome — everything he’s had to endure come to fruition.

he never thought it would bring this tenderness in his life, that your sweet nature would rub off on him by the ghost of your lips pressing against the scarred skin.

but it’s all over far too soon, zoro’s head falling toward your lips to chase the sensation that graced his skin like molten sunshine. but he straightens up, opens his eye and peers down at you curiously.

“was that okay?” you ask, nervous from his reaction. his body melts back into something mushier than the state he left it in. a new feeling blooming in his chest as he pulls you into his lap, brushing his nose against yours before meeting your anxious gaze.

“yeah.” he smiles a little, enjoying how your nerves flow away into the wind as he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you in place before settling back into his napping position. “that was more than okay.”

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

[htaesan]

　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ GIVING YOU MY FOREVER　　────　ᅠ ( han taesan )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀when han taesan, your boyfriend, notices you haven’t been answering his texts for the entire day, he sets out to figure out why𑁋only to find you sobbing alone on top of the hill.

　　　ᅠ 한태산 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 0.8k ⠀ genre comfort fluff established relationship ⠀ contains mentions of family issues crying skinship ⠀ note this fic is highkey self-indulgent bc i wrote this when i was having a hard time </3 so it kinda doesn’t make sense? welp ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

“Hey, here you are.”

You didn’t have to look to know who it was—instead, you sigh deeply, letting the boy settle himself next to you. You throw your gaze far, letting your eyes capture the beauty of the night from atop the hill: the way the stars still shine despite being thousands and thousands of miles away, the way the city lights add a sparkle to the night’s black canvas. You take a deep breath, hoping that the smell of grass and the gentle breeze of autumn would bring some peace to your heart.

“You… okay?” you hear him ask after quite some time. You purse your lips, still not meeting his eyes, afraid all the tears might spill once you do. “You didn’t read my texts for the whole day.”

“M-maybe,” you manage. Your throat feels dry as you force your words out. “I’ll be fine.”

“You know,” he says, after a few moments. He places a hand on yours, his touch gentle and comforting. “You can tell me anything.”

You lower your head. 

Please don’t cry.

“I might not understand your pain, I might not fully understand what you’re going through,” he continues, his voice so deep and kind. “But I’m here. I’ll listen.”

“Even if you don’t want to tell me—or if you can’t find the right words to describe how you feel, I’ll be here. Always.” 

Under his hand, you clench your own. 

“I…”

“Okay?” 

You finally look up, turning slightly to meet his gaze. You bite your lower lip as you watch Taesan’s eyes widen slightly at the way your eyes fill with tears. His hands grab yours tight as he offers you a gentle smile. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak, lowering your head again as tears begin to spill. Taesan’s grasp remains firm, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “I… I don’t know how to say this…”

Taesan smiles softly, squeezing your hands. “It’s okay. Tell me anything—just say anything that comes to mind, I’ll piece it together.”

“My parents,” you say, your words coming out one by one, in between sobs, “it’s stressing me out– I– is this my fault? Why– why are they fighting? I thought they– love– each other—”

You can’t stop it, your tears falling down your cheeks like raindrops in a storm, unstoppable and overwhelming. Your chest heaves up and down with each sob, your throat tight with a lump that makes your speech difficult to interpret. 

“Hey…” 

Taesan pulls you into a hug, causing you to hiccup in surprise. It engulfs you like a warm blanket on a winter night—you could smell Taesan: a mixture of champagne orange, passion fruit, sugar vanilla; the perfume his mother had bought for him. Immediately, your tears begin to flow down again, as Taesan’s warmth starts to become one with you. 

Taesan doesn’t let go—his embrace of you firm and comforting, telling you he’s there for you through every high and low. Taesan hugs you close, letting your heartbeat converge with his. He lets you cry your heart out in his arms, not giving a care in the world about how your tears are staining his favourite sweater. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispers, once your tears have subsided. 

“But… won’t you fall out of love, one day?” you ask him, resting your head against his chest. You close your eyes shut, trying to remove the memory of witnessing your parents’ fight from your mind. 

Taesan kisses the top of your head, resting his chin against it after. “Will I ever?”

“Maybe,” you mumble. 

“Darling,” Taesan says, causing butterflies to begin erupting in your stomach. He’s called you that for so many times already, yet it always catches you off guard. “If we love each other truly, we’ll always find a way to make things work, hm?”

He pulls away a little bit, and you look directly into his eyes. Taesan gives you a smile—different from his usual cheeky grin—beautiful, sincere, and ethereal. “Besides, we still have a long way to go before we get married, and before we die. We’ll have plenty of time to learn from our mistakes.”

“Married?” you exclaim, eyes widening. You smack his shoulder in an attempt to hide the blush that’s beginning to form on your cheeks.

“Yeah,” Taesan nods, folding his arms as he holds his neck from behind. “Why? You don’t like it?”

“Well… of course I love it,” you mutter, biting the inside of your cheek. After a while, you turn to him, narrowing your eyes. “But marriage is a serious matter, you know? I���”

Taesan kisses your cheek, grinning as he pulls away. “I know.”

You lock eyes with Taesan, the sparkling night around you, the gentle breeze blowing through. 

“And I love you, so seriously, to be doing it in the future. To be giving you my forever.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

[sintied]

↳ @hybridafterdark asked: Volt had absolutely been serious about giving his husband a massage that night. Although there was only a few inches in height difference, it made it easier for the hybrid to get his fingers in all the spots he could feel knotted up. Although there should have been no surprise when the impulsive thought finally won, and violet eyes glanced up to the hero's face. One hand sneakily surrounded the now longer tail to comb his fingers through.

{➹} – THE HERO HADN'T turned down the offer in any way shape or form, more than content to let the hybrid do as they pleased. After all, Volt had far more experience in this than the hedgehog did, both when it came to the massage and the hero's new form. There was no denying it was effective too, the hero's muscles going lax before too long and while he definitely would have denied the purr leaving him, it was as clear as day.

Until the growl he gave at the touch to his tail, utterly playful and cause enough for him to turn around and flash those new fangs in a like manner. He ignored the fact said tail was now wagging.

Emerald hues narrowed only slightly, one scarred hand very purposefully trailing claws along a brown leg. "Careful. I might just return the favor."

[sinwcrthy]

↳ @hybridafterdark asked: Careful claws danced against the hero’s chest, one hand slipped underneath the red scarf while the other skirted a blue hip and thigh. There was an audible purr as lips kissed and nibbled along his partner’s neck and shoulder. Someone was in a teasing mood.

     {➹} – THE HERO HAD RECOGNIZED something in his partner's eyes that evening, as he often did, but was more than willing to play the sitting duck to the questing fingers and hybrid's lips. For a time anyway, because it wasn't long until his own purr joined the mix and he was sneaking in kisses where he could get them.

And plenty of nuzzles before a sultry chuckle rose in his chest.

"Y'know...we do have the house t' ourselves tonight."

[snoopyhughes]

gave you too much but it wasn't enough (qh43)

In which you wonder if your relationship with Quinn might end in death by a thousand cuts.

This is my submission for the eras tour fic challenge hosted by @wyattjohnston and @comphy-and-cozy! I am thrilled to be a part of this event. I received DBATC, and if you know me you know any kind of angst is not my wheelhouse, but I was thrilled to get this challenge and try to create something angsty. It will never be unresolved in my world but hopefully this does the trick :) 2.5k words, fem reader, no warnings that I know of, not proofread.

When Quinn was named the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, you had never felt so proud.

Being with Quinn for two plus years at the time, you were over the moon to see the love of your life, your favorite person in the world, being given such an honor, an honor he worked so hard for, an honor you know he deserved. Quinn was one of the most dedicated people you've ever met. With that dedication of course, comes time. Quinn dedicated countless hours to improving his game, practicing with his teammates, working out in the gym, going on runs, anything he could do to be the best he could be, he was doing it.

Under the moonlight, as you and Quinn celebrated his accomplishment, he promised you that he wouldn't stray away. That his commitment to the team wouldn't outweigh his commitment to you. To being a loving partner. A companion. However, when you woke up, stretching your arm out to feel an empty bed yet again, despite knowing that it couldn't have been much past 7 am, you wondered what went wrong. What happened to cause those promises to crumble. His words to be empty, lifeless. Void of meaning. When did you and Quinn become a couple that told each other lies? Told each other things just because the other person wanted to hear them, not because they genuinely intended to fulfill them.

It was the start of Quinn's second season as the Canucks captain. At first, you thought it was too good to be true. Quinn was thriving in his new role, yet still being the perfect partner. Attentive and on time, compassionate and loving. Now, that version of Quinn is a distant memory, mocking you as you think of him.

It started after the holidays in Quinn's first season of being captain. You chalked it up to post holiday stress and all star weekend buzz, maybe even trade deadline drama. Then the all star game passed, and even the trade deadline. Shortly after you started blaming it on the playoff push, then the playoff loss. And now here you were in November, searching for answers, trying to figure out what happened to the love of your life who turned into a stranger right in front of your own eyes, with nothing you could do about it but watch it happen.

You got yourself ready for work, looking around in the bathroom, on the bedside table, and eventually the kitchen to see if maybe Quinn left you a note, a cup of coffee in your favorite travel mug, a bagel from your favorite bakery around the corner, a sign of his love, signs that he used to never leave the house without showing. Just as you thought, there was nothing. You couldn't even remember the last time you felt Quinn kiss your forehead before he left for God knows what. Another workout, another two mile run after the three miles he did on the treadmill, or locking himself in his office watching film.

Work came and went that day, taking the long way home, dreading going home to an empty house. You thought it would be worse trying to interact with the stranger you lived with, but the silence, the emptiness, the sterile, unwelcoming cold was always worse. You stared up at the traffic lights, wondering if others saw just how foolish you felt. Writing lines to a story that was long over. Grasping on to the book, hoping for a surprise ending, one that would make everything worth it.

To say you were surprised to see Quinn's Porsche in the driveway was an understatement. Usually on practice days he didn't get home until well after 6 pm. You unlocked the front door, not expecting much. Just because he was home, doesn't mean he wasn't locked up in his office, taking notes from last night's game. A game that you never bothered to go to anymore. You knew the other WAGs missed you, people speculated about your absence on the internet, always cruel and judgmental. You couldn't bring yourself to go. You had learned to despise hockey for taking Quinn from you.

You opened the door and were surprised to see Quinn in the kitchen, grabbing a snack. Quinn looked as surprised to see you as you were, almost like he didn't know where you were, or if he even remembered that you lived there. Quiet "hi's" were exchanged, Quinn leaving a soft kiss on your cheek then awkwardly brushing past you to go towards the fridge.

"I thought we could have chicken and pasta for dinner tonight. It sounded good on my way home, I hope that's okay," Quinn muttered out, but already getting a pot of water for pasta ready, as though it didn't matter what you truly wanted. "That's okay," you offered back. "I'm gonna go sit down and read my book. If you need me, just holler." You offered and Quinn gave a nod in response. You wanted to grunt and groan under your breath. How could this be okay with him? It was as though you didn't know him, despite him knowing everything about you.

You tried to distract yourself with your book, but frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped them away aggressively, not wanting Quinn to see you cry. He couldn't muster up simple greetings, and an I love you would be almost toxic coming out of his mouth. He didn't care anymore, that much was obvious. So why should you?

You didn't know how long time passed, but it was enough time for Quinn to come over with a plate of dinner, unaware of your state. Your heart swelled. Most days, you had been eating dinner at the table, the memories of the two of you loved up on the couch, enjoying your meal and watching your latest binge watch were long gone. It seemed that Quinn was looking for one of those nights, until he saw your tears. His face dropped, setting your plate down and kneeling in front of you.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" He asked, trying to get you to meet his eyes. You shook your head. How could he be so oblivious? "Are you serious?" You ask and Quinn's expression changed, like you had hurt him. "What do you mean by that? Why would I not be serious?" he asked, causing you to shake your head. "Quinn, things haven't been right between us for months. You leave me everyday without saying goodbye or even kissing me goodbye, you act like spending time with me is the worst thing in the world. I never go to games anymore because I resent hockey for taking you from me. When you were named captain, I was so proud of you I could explode. Now I can't even bare to be in the hockey setting because it reminds me of everything you chose over me. Quinn, I don't even know if you love me anymore." You took a breath after getting it off your chest, but at the same time a wounded gasp came out of Quinn's mouth, like he was a wounded animal.

"You think I don't love you anymore? How could you think that?" he asked, clearly hurt by what you had said. "What else do you want me to believe, Quinn? I can't even remember the last time you told me you loved me. And beyond that, that you ever even showed that you might. I feel like I live with a stranger. You can't honestly tell me that you have felt satisfied in this relationship. That you feel that we love each other to the fullest, that we love spending time together. I haven't felt confident that you feel that way in a long time." At this point you both had tears in your eyes, Quinn feeling devastated by what he was hearing.

Of course Quinn wasn't 100% satisfied with your relationship. He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was perfect. He knew that hockey had been his number one priority lately, and he had been trying to make that not be the case.

"Baby, I know I haven't been putting you first lately, and I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I feel like it's only been this way since the start of the regular season." This had you scoffing immediately. "You don't seriously believe that. Quinn, I could say I have felt this way on and off since January." This caused another hurt gasp to leave Quinn's lips. "Why didn't you say something..." he trailed off, hurt, but he knew the answer.

"I shouldn't have to beg you to love me, Quinn. I shouldn't have to tell you that you have been neglecting me, neglecting us. If you truly can't see what's been going on, I don't know how I can explain it to you. If you think that this relationship has been satisfactory for both parties, I can't change your mind of that. But I won't be treated like this any longer. I think we should spend some time apart." Quinn backed up as soon as the suggestion came out of your mouth, looking like he had been shot.

"You don't mean that, you can't" he gasped. "Quinn, I'm not saying I want to breakup. If I didn't believe this was salvageable, if I didn't believe you could fix this, I would just say I wanted to break up. I believe we can fix this, but I think some time apart would do us good. For us both to figure out what we're looking for and what we truly want. If we find that this is still what we want, that's great, I believe that we will make it work. But this, this... arrangement, this isn't working. I know you seem shocked and hurt, but I know you don't believe that this is working for both of us, or honestly either of us."

"I'll go stay with Petey, I don't want to be in your way," Quinn suggested and you shook your head. "It's okay, really. I can go stay with Brock's girlfriend. Since she lives by herself it won't be awkward for any of us. I do believe we can make this work Quinn, I just don't think we can do it in these conditions." You put your hand on his cheek and his face softened, leaning into your touch.

"Tell me how to fix it, please, I'll do anything," he begged, tears steadily streaming down his face. "I can't tell you that, Quinn. I want you to figure out. To understand where I'm coming from, and want to work to fix it. I haven't been perfect either Quinn, we can both work on this. I shouldn't have to tell you that spending time together once a month isn't enough. I don't know how it can be enough for you, either. If that's okay with you, then this just isn't going to work."

"I'll fix it baby, I promise, I'll do anything." he whispered, almost defeatedly but feeling much better. "I believe you, baby. I do."

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

The flowers started on Mondays. Each Monday, a different bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers arrived at your office. The message was also different each week but it always ended the same way: " I love you, I believe in us." You texted Quinn every week when the flowers came to let him know you got them and to send your thanks. After four weeks of flowers, you were sitting in the front room of Brock's girlfriend, Bella's, apartment, getting stuff done on your computer on a chilly Saturday afternoon. A knock on the door sounded, causing you to pause your work. You had been staying with Bella long enough that you felt comfortable getting the door. Not to mention Bella liked to sleep in super late on weekends, meaning you would be the only one to even be available to open the door.

Your heart sank to your toes as you looked through the peephole, seeing Quinn. He looked different. If your gut was right, he looked tired, a far away look in his eyes, almost as though he missed you as much as you missed him. You didn't want to believe it, wary of getting your heart broken. He was holding something in his hands, fidgeting with it as he waited for the door to open.

"Y/N, hi," Quinn whispered out, taking a step towards you. "Hi Quinn, it's great to see you. How have you been? Would you like to come inside?" You asked, causing him to shake his head. "I can't stay, but thank you for offering," he stopped himself, wanting to keep boundaries in between you two in order for you to be most comfortable.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, and I wanted to come ask you something. I was hoping you'd like to come to the game tomorrow night? I was hoping this would be enough time, but if not it's okay." His voice was shaky, unsure, almost like he was scared of your response. "I'm not sure, Quinn. Won't it be weird that I'm there? I don't want to cause any drama." You said apprehensively. You were also nervous of what that step in your relationship would be.

"There would be no drama at all, babe. You could just sit with Bell in the stands if you would prefer that, but I know the WAGs have really been missing you. I heard Millsy's daughters have been waiting for you to paint their nails on intermission again," he joked, causing you to smile. His heart melted at the smile on your face, finally feeling fulfilled, that he made you happy.

"I'll be there, Quinn. You can put me in the box. Don't worry about parking, though. I'm sure I can catch a ride with Bella." You both smiled, joyful at the step in the right direction for the both of you. "I can't wait."

________________

For all the time you had spent at Canucks games, you never thought you would be so nervous about what to wear, but here you are. Finally, settling on a stylish Canucks long sleeve with no distinction of Quinn on the shirt, paired with dark jeans and sneakers.

Quinn played a great game, getting a goal and an assist, the Canucks winning 3-1. You were ecstatic. Being back at the games, with your friends, cheering on Quinn, just felt right. It felt like where you were supposed to be. When you met Quinn after the game, he couldn't help himself either, jogging up to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up off the ground. "Quinn!" you exclaimed, laughing out loud. "You did so good!" You laughed as he set you back on the ground. "It's because you were here, my good luck charm." He mused, causing you to blush.

Before he could stop himself, Quinn asked: "come home with me?" Your breath shortened, definitely not expecting that to come out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" You asked him, heart racing at the idea of going home with Quinn, truly where you belonged. "I would want nothing more."

It felt at times that no matter how much you gave to Quinn, it would never be enough. But as you both grew and learned more about yourselves, you both knew that all you could give would always be enough for the both of you.

[eyelessfaces]

ahead, ahead

poe dameron x reader

summary: “We– You’ll never settle down, Poe. We both know this. And neither will I, as long as we’re in this.” Your eyes rake over his face, his eyes softly fluttering with hurt when he averts his gaze from you. “It'll never work.”

or; your fear of the future forces you to reject the man you love.

warnings: rejecting poe but we're not actually truly rejecting him (who, in their right mind would reject this man), talks of the war, of being scared of the future, extremely brief mentions of an injury, death and grief

tags: gn!reader, idiots in love, angst, fluff, celebration, kissing, idk man I hate tagging this stuff you'll see

word count: 2.9k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

lmao hey I'm back ig if this fic doesn't hit ten thousand notes in 48hrs I'm dipping again

The night is fairly quiet, save for the occasional crackle over the comms. You and Poe are tucked away in an observation post, overlooking a seemingly endless empty desert; it feels like you've been here for hours, time blending now that the only light around is the shining stars and the small dots of your devices. 

Poe lightly clears his throat, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “You can't go away from any conversation right now, so,” 

You shouldn’t even be surprised that he can not keep his mouth shut for longer than three minutes. “Why won't you let me take you out on a date?”

You sigh. “Poe, not now.” 

You can feel his eyes burning holes through you, knowing exactly what gaze he’s using on you, knowing his big, warm, pleading brown eyes will have the exact effect he intends to cast over you if you happen to turn to him.

You keep watching ahead, trying your best to ignore his too obvious firm gaze over you in your peripheral vision, feigning focus on trying to notice anything unusual in the broad land of sand ahead of you. He makes it really hard.

“What? Perfect situation to talk about this” he says, his gaze on you unwavering. “For me” he shrugs with a teasing smile.

You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping that your silence will make him drop it. But he’s Poe Dameron. 

“Tell me. Tell me why. I genuinely want to know your reasons.” he says, leaning back into his seat. “Hurt my feelings if you have to. I just wanna know”

You can feel the pressure starting to pull down on you. You know he won’t let it go, but you also don’t want to hurt your friend while you’re stuck with him for what could be hours.

“So what, because no one ever says no to you you can’t take someone rejecting you?” you scoff, turning to him before you check the comms again though you know there’s nothing new. 

He laughs, a choked, startled laugh. “We both know it’s not that. You kissed me”

You sigh, tension coiling tight and your heart leaping in your chest as you set the comms down again, at this point begging the maker for something to happen, maybe even for a First Order ambush just to get you out of this conversation. “Maybe I was just pitying you.” you mutter under your breath, busying yourself out of it by picking the underside of your nails.

“Oh, you were shitting your pants at the idea of losing me. That's why you kissed me. You were so scared I might be dead you ran to kiss me when you found out I wasn't.” 

Your eyes close wearily. He’s on point. 

“And you almost could have chipped my teeth with how hard our mouths clashed, so,” he trails off. “Come on. Why won’t you tell me? I really just wanna know. I can handle it.” he murmurs, more softly this time. Your head shakes as you tut impatiently. His gentle tone doesn’t make it less painful to be in this situation. “I promise you won’t hurt my feelings, you already kinda did anyway, so I guess I’m not really–” Poe stops when you suddenly grab his arm and hold a finger up, your eyes widening as you freeze.

“Listen”

Poe halts and goes silent, alert to any sound around, any faint wind breeze, any footstep, anything. 

“...I’m not hearing anything” he declares after a while, eyebrows furrowed.

You recline into your seat, releasing your grip on him. “Exactly. How peaceful”

He lets out a soft, bitter chuckle and looks away, into the waves of sand, pretending to get his focus back onto the task at hand. 

He finally, as you wished, lets the tight space be silent again, but after a while, you come to admit that the heavy silence is arguably more agonizing than having Poe run his mouth about something you don’t really want to talk about.

“You'll always care about the Resistance more than you could care about me.”

“What?” Poe scoffs and glances back over you, eyebrows raised. You give him a small shrug. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

Your gaze darts to him before you look back out the window at your side. “It’s not even a bad thing, it’s who you are, and that’s why people follow you, that’s why I follow you, but–”

He stares at you, his gaze burning through you again, caught somewhere between confusion and frustration. “But what? What makes you think that?” 

You can hear the startled hurt in his tone, the clear bewilderment, the clear need and urge in him to argue.

“You're a busy man. You're always on the run–” 

“So are you” he cuts you off.

“That's what I mean. We’re both so busy with this– this endless fight. We barely have time to sleep, let alone,” you gesture vaguely between the both of you, catching the pleading gaze you were desperately trying to avoid earlier, hoping he will get what you mean without you having to say it out loud, without having to stab him right through the heart once again.

“So what?” he insists, his tone firmer. “We both know that. That’s part of the deal. But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t make it work”

You shake your head, sensing it will only keep going down from there. “We– You’ll never settle down, Poe. We both know this. And neither will I, as long as we’re in this.” Your eyes rake over his face, his eyes softly fluttering with hurt when he averts his gaze from you. “It'll never work.”

The thick silence painfully grips at your throat, and just when it feels Poe might start to speak again, the comms crackle with a signal, alerting a presence on the grounds. 

You stand up and gather the stuff you need, the mission you let aside needing your full focus again, and as you take your blaster out of your holster, you can still feel Poe’s lingering gaze over you, your chest tightening in a sense of guilt you’ve never felt before.

—

It’s spontaneous and unconstrained when you fall into Poe’s embrace, but you do, and it’s like nothing ever happened in that observation post a few weeks ago. Your hands fist tightly into the fabric of his flight suit while you're still careful not to press yourself too close against his wounded arm. The general hubbub of celebration is rumbling on the ground of Ajan Kloss, thrumming through the air, and you can only feel relief as Poe’s hand cups the back of your head, pulling you closer into the embrace. For a brief moment, you just stay here, mingling with each other, breathing him in like you didn't completely push him away the last time you faced him.

“Are you okay?” he asks when you pull back slightly, looking you up and down, eyes raking through as he searches for any sign of injury.

“Are you?” you ask back, eyeing his arm wrapped in a cloth and held against his chest by a sling. 

He shrugs, grimacing as he quickly waves it off, trying to downplay it. “That's fine. Nothing I've never seen before. I got things to celebrate before I start whining about this” he grins. 

He smiles wider when he sees your smile, your cheeks warming up as his gaze lingers over you, taking in every detail of your face. You have barely been able to catch each other for longer than two minutes outside of missions these past few weeks, so knowing he will now be able to see you for maybe three minutes longer now that the galaxy isn’t at stake anymore brings another layer to the wider sense of relief of this war being over. “I’m glad you made it out alright” he says quietly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the noise. 

“Couldn’t have done it without such an amazing leader” you tease, and he lets out a genuine laugh, shaking his head, but your own laughter fades as he gets cornered by his fellow squadron pilots, pulling him away from you.

You smile when you see his eyes crinkle as they cheer with him, and you give him another smile and nod when he mouths you a quick apology as they drag him away.

—

You stare off into the distance, a small smile tugging at your lips when from afar, you notice Finn being swirled around by Rose, all smiles. 

There’s a bittersweet feeling to this, all of this. It’s supposedly all over, but you also have no idea what to expect for tomorrow, and the next day, and all the ones after that, and the idea is terrifying. 

You put your glass down beside you on the crate that serves you as a bench, turning when you feel a presence approaching.

“Hey” Poe smiles, sitting by your side on the wide crate.

“Hey,” you reply, a hint of tiredness in your voice though his presence lifts you up a little.

“Overwhelmed?” 

You scoff, giving him a half nod, barely a tilt of the head. “Yeah, you could say that”

He gives you a nod of comprehension, staring off at the loud, joyful celebration in the distance. 

Puffs of dirt are flowing off the ground from being beaten by dancing feet, the particles visible from the strings and poles of lanterns set up for the occasion, revealing the figures of people overflowing with energy though that layer will peel off and reveal the true exhaustion stemming from the battle soon enough.

The night is warm, making sweat cling to skins, making tears of all kinds short-lived, visual proofs of joy and grief drying and disappearing quickly.

Poe’s gaze turns back to you, his hand settling over yours. “You should join us. You shouldn’t be staying by yourself at a time like this” he prompts, lightly nudging your side, a gentle smile on his face.

“I will, eventually” you nod, glancing at a couple linking foreheads, swaying side by side. “Just having a moment,” you chuckle softly, bringing your glass back to your lips.

“Ouh, okay” he teases, begrudgingly removing his hand. “Mind if I have this moment with you?”

“Sure,” you scoff, silently offering to share your glass with Poe, disposing of it again when he silently declines.

“So, what now?” he questions, a renewed brightness filling his voice. “What are your plans now that this war’s over?” he asks, eyes roaming along your figure.

You take a deep breath, clearing yourself of a discomfort you barely realized had been smothering your chest. “I don’t know. That’s what’s terrifying” you admit. He hums in agreement, nodding. “But maybe I’m gonna apologize to a certain pilot I pushed away first” you grin, glancing at him, meeting his eyes that crinkle in the corners as he smiles. “I wanted to apologize earlier. Before they snatched you away to worship you for your feats” you tease.

He scoffs. “Sorry. Busy man as you said”

“Yeah” you exhale, taking a sip of your drink. You lick the liquid off your lips, before looking back at Poe. “I was too harsh on you. I didn’t mean to hurt you” 

He gives you a single nod and a forgiving smile. “I know. We don’t have to talk about that”

You shrug softly, averting your gaze from him again. All those people cheering and laughing and kissing could have been you and Poe instead of that slightly awkward tension between you, in a parallel reality where you hadn’t pushed your pride to the first plan, leaving your feelings behind. 

You glance at him, at the way his brown eyes catch the warm glow of the lanterns. “I wanted to kiss you again” you admit, in a faint murmur. “When we came back winning.”

Your gaze falls to your lap, your fingers drumming against your glass as you feel the weight of Poe’s gaze over you, attentive to your every word. “But I didn’t want you to think I was playing with your feelings and being cruel again, just the way I was in the observation post”

Poe’s gaze softens, his hand closing as he tries to keep himself from reaching for you again. He nods in understanding, unsure how to go on from this admission. 

“It’s not about cruelty,” he mutters, still looking at you. “It hurt because I knew you were scared. And I didn’t know how to make you not be.”

Your heart tightens inside your ribcage, your eyes briefly closing at his words. You nod, having to admit he is probably right. Scared of losing any more people you love, for the cause that has already taken so much from you.

Scared of losing him when your feelings already weighed enough on you.

“Hey,” he calls, tearing you out of your knot of blooming thoughts, nudging your knee with his own. “That’s why we’re here tonight. Because we made it” he nods. “We're all supposed to be less scared now, to enjoy the celebration and to properly take time to process our griefs.”

A faint smile grows over his face when you rest your head against his shoulder. You try to ignore the tears threatening your eyes.

“So things are supposed to be quieter now, right?” you question quietly, feeling his arm wrap around your back.

He hums in reflection. “There’s still a lot to do but, yeah, supposedly”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Always”

You let out a small, vulnerable sigh. “I never thought this day would actually happen. It was just a distant vision” you confess. “And now that it’s here I don’t know what to do”

He slightly tilts his head, glancing at you without dislodging your head from his shoulder. “You’ve never fantasized about what your life would be like after the war?”

You stay quiet for a bit, thinking about it. “Not really. Not seriously. Mostly because it didn’t really feel like this day would come, and now everyone knows what they want for themselves and I feel completely lost”

He nods. “You don't have to figure it all out now. The Resistance still has lots to sort out” he affirms, his thumb idly caressing your arm. “But you can think about it differently. You have every option now. You can start again” You pull your head away from his shoulder, considering this point of view as you grab your drink to finish it. You hum softly, rubbing your eyes when you let go of your drink, trying to chase the lingering doubts away.

“Come on, we should join the others” he clutches your shoulder before standing up. “And you need a refill”

You nod, looking back at your empty glass, propping yourself onto your feet. “Poe, wait” he turns back to you, an expectant curiosity painted over his face, watching as you step closer to him. 

“If you asked me out again,” you say, a playful smirk forming on your lips. “I’d say yes. It’d be part of my new life”

His grin widens as he fully turns to you. “Oh yeah?” he asks, an eyebrow raised and a teasing edge to his voice. 

His eyes roam over your face, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as you nod. “Yeah”

He steps closer, the space between you shrinking as his hand brushes yours before he holds it again, this time more deliberately and more confidently. “You should have. Kissed me” he murmurs as your gaze darts to your linked hands then back to him, unable to repress the smile growing onto your face.

“I know,” you chuckle, watching him let his fingers intertwine with yours when you don’t pull away, his touch firm, grounding you with a peacefulness you haven’t felt in what seems to be ages. “But who says it's too late?”

“If I was that petty, I would” he grins, a teasing glint in his eyes, but the warmth in them conveys the playfulness of his words. 

You lean in to kiss him before either of you can overthink it, your free hand instinctively grabbing at the back of his neck like he can somehow still slip away from you, your fingers burying in his mass of hair damp from the heavy atmosphere.

His hand slides out of yours to cup your face and the kiss lingers, warm and unhurried, neither of you caring about the laughter and music of the celebration in the background. When you finally pull back, your foreheads touch, and you see the playful grin on his face that makes your chest ache with fondness. “Took you long enough” he teases.

“You’re so desperate” you shoot back, your tone lacking any real bite, significantly softened by the smile that refuses to leave your face. 

“You were hard to get.”

“Alright, okay” you scoff, your hand sliding to rest against his torso, adjusting the collar of his shirt on the way. 

The teasing slowly fades from his face, his hand reaching up to cover yours over the rise and fall of his torso, gently closing around your fingers

“I’ll make time for you.” he says, his voice low and sincere. “Between work, flying, building everything we’ve lost and our lives again… I’ll make time for us. I promise”

You find yourself nodding, swallowing his every word, blindly trusting him; because if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that Poe Dameron never makes empty promises.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, and for the first time in what feels forever, moving forward doesn’t seem as terrifying.

—

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[sintied]

{➹} – THE SOUND WAS FAINT but the hero's tail was definitely moving in that happy little way when his partner joined him there on the bed. They were of the same mindset regarding the mess, and perhaps even the shower but only morning would really tell. Maybe, just maybe, the hero would use it all as an excuse to sleep in a bit. Rare, but it still happened.

For now he was content to hold his partner as close as he could without it being uncomfortable for either of them. Chin resting on the hybrid's head, and legs slightly intertwined, the hero was delighted. Sleepy, but pleased. As if their nights tended to end on any other note.

A yawn escaped the hero before he could stop it, but his purr was still strong and he replied in turn by laying a kiss on those red bangs. A warm feeling settled in his chest at those words, as it always did. As it always would.

"Love you too."

Even knowing the answer to his question, it was nice to hear it sometimes. But that purr had been answer enough as Volt's smile brightened just before he brought their lips together in one more kiss. Only after was he willing to let himself be pulled into his partner's embrace.

To hell with the further mess they were making. All it meant was there would be a shower in their morning. And if he was lucky, maybe a shower together~

Mismatched arms slipped around the hero's midsection, drawing them that much closer as he laid his head on the scarred chest and nestled under Arrow's chin.

No better place to fall asleep than in the arms of his soulmate.

"Next time Liebe." A promise they could keep with one another for sure. There were plenty of things that Volt was willing to explore with his partner when it was his turn. But right now, he was content right where he was and more than satisfied with how their night had come to an end.

A gentle kiss was snuck under the hero's chin. "Love you~"

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˖✧ The Jackpot

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: You join Arthur and the boys for a job on the Grand Korrigan riverboat where you act as Arthur’s lap girl. The man in question is more than excited about this decision. ✦ Warnings: Guns, mention of shooting, swearing, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), edging if you squint, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 3,8k ✦ a/n: A big heartwarming thank you to @zae-heeyyy!! Who took the time to correct my dumb spelling and give me her thoughts on this before publishing it! Please go check her work, I swear it won't disappoint! Also: pictures are not mine! I usually try to use a pic for Arthur from my own playthrough but I'm fcking stuck on Guarma rn. Found them on Pinterest.

Dim lights are flickering all around you, making the golden ornaments of the luxurious place you're in shine like a thousand stars. You couldn't believe this gigantic reception room, gratified by a bar, a grand piano, and of course, three elegant poker tables, was actually floating on water right now, as you were on the Grand Korrigan boat, the jewel of its kind, den of the richest gentlemen in St. Denis, in search for some amusement and of course, even more money.

Trelawny and Herr Strauss had plotted a well-crafted deal that could earn a lot of money for the gang. Along with Javier disguised as one of the guards, Arthur would act as a new wealthy businessman who had just made a fortune in oil. Strauss would give him signals during his poker game, which guaranteed him to win considering Trelawny had made a friend out of the dealer.

You? You'd play his mistress, sitting on his lap during the game to make the scene look more convincing. On top of that, you had been able to hide a little gun in a hidden pocket in the underside of your dress, guaranteeing some extra protection, which wasn't a bad idea considering the Grand Korrigan was heavily armed and neither Arthur, Trelawny nor Strauss had one.

So here you were, thriving in your role, comfortably sitting on Arthur's lap, hands wrapped around his neck, both legs hanging on his left side. His arms were enveloping you, hands resting on the edge of the table as he was focusing on his cards.

Well, more like trying to focus, actually.

Maybe it was because you two had started a quite passionate relationship a few weeks ago, sneaking in each other's tent, simple kisses and whispers in the night quickly turning into something more, the both of you having cravings to fulfill.

Maybe it was because Trelawny, the damned man, had chosen a particularly suggestive dress for you to wear, comforting your play considering wives weren't allowed at the poker tables, only work girls and such, your cleavage on full display for his immoral eyes.

Maybe it was the way he could feel the round and warm flesh of your ass even through the fabric of your clothes, right where he wanted to, making his brain impossible to function properly, desperately trying to keep the hardness between his legs to stay in line.

Either way, Arthur had to make enormous efforts to focus on the job and was frankly relieved Strauss was telling him what to do; despite being a pretty good poker player, he would never have been able to win the easiest of games in this state.

Strauss told him to go all-in. He did. You smiled, you would have lied saying you weren't enjoying yourself right now. You had known far worse jobs than playing Arthur's lover. Much to your surprise, he had played a really convincing character through the night too, his usual mumbling far gone, replaced by a bright and confident speech and a cheeky grin that was making you want to kiss it even more. In fact, you wanted to take care of him just to see this cocky smirk flatter under your touch, replaced by a pleasured expression on his handsome face.

It was easy to say both of you were acting pretty good, but inside felt like two teenagers in love.

Arthur had won another hand, men were starting to leave the table, angry. It was only you both and the target now, an opulent man known as Desmond Blythe, loaded with money thanks to his hosiery business.

You pulled a cigarette out of Arthur's pocket along with a match, and you felt his breath hitch for an instant when you slipped your hand in it. Rubbing the match against the wood of the table, you lighted the cigarette casually, little flame illuminating a thin grin on your lips. You took a small drag on it to make sure the tobacco had plainly burnt, then you placed the cigarette in front of Arthur's lips, holding it for him between your index and middle finger, so that he could smoke on it while keeping both his hands on his cards.

It was downright one of the hottest things anybody had done to him and he was starting to lose it. Wrapping his lips around your offering and smoking a long drag, he allowed himself to avert his gaze from his opponent for a few seconds, planting his turquoise pupils into yours.

His eyes were half-lidded, long lashes accentuating the languorous gaze he was giving you. Your heart started racing. The power this man had on you was insane, but if only you knew what you were doing to him in return. You had a glimpse of it though, right there in the depths of his two blue diamonds, this so distinctive dark glow of him, direct window on the sinful pit of his urges.

You were sure your own eyes were mirroring it. And it got worse when, after exhaling some smoke, he quickly kissed the palm of your hand, indicating he had smoked enough, the warm sensation of his chapped lips on your skin giving you goosebumps. His eyes went back to Blythe, and you exhaled as if you had been holding your breath during the whole time you had locked eyes.

You retrieved your hand, taking a drag yourself on the cigarette after him, loving the idea of sharing it with him, of putting your lips right where he did a few seconds before, your biased brain telling you you could taste sweet remnants of him there.

Another all-in, another hand won by Arthur who couldn't stop himself from smiling this sly cocky smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Shit, shit!" Blythe shouted, hitting on the table with his fists furiously.

"I guess ma luck held... Is that you done?" Arthur asked him, his tone triumphant while bending over the table to gather his not-so-well-deserved chips. "Or, do you got somethin' else to play with?" He added more lowly, his baritone voice almost making you shiver just hearing it.

"Meaning?" Desmond questioned back, visibly frustrated. Looked like frustration was a popular feeling around this poker table tonight, about the game or other things...

Arthur had gotten up from his chair and you too, now standing by his side, partially glued to his body as he had snaked an arm around your waist while finishing to put in order his chips. He answered using the same taunting, arrogant tone as before.

"Well, I heard there was some big boys on this boat, maybe that's not you, no offense-"

"Sit your and your whore's hillbilly asses down." The rich men cut him off, voice dark and serious.

You felt Arthur's hand grip tighter on your waist. For a faint moment, you thought that his cover would collapse, considering how tense he had gotten hearing him calling you a whore. But the way he was still smiling was almost even more scary, it was a false, threatening one. The kind of smile that hides a cold anger, boiling silently inside.

"Why?" Arthur simply answered, tone brilliantly contained considering the way his muscles were flexing on their own under his fancy suit.

"I got a watch... An expensive one, swiss... a Reutlinger no less. It's in the safe, upstairs. It's worth more than you."

You forced yourself not to cross eyes with Arthur. Your target. He had just confirmed what you were all here for. Perfect, just a bit more of this whole play and Arthur would be able to access the strongbox.

"Okay, I trust ya." Arthur consented while sitting back on his chair, placing you with his two big hands back at your place, on his lap. You were definitely loving this job. You'd have to thank Trelawny for it, someday.

The rest of the game passed just like before, your outlaw ultimately winning once more thanks to your colleague's little trick. Desmond was furious, and you obtained your goal.

Arthur happily got up once again, gently helping you stand, one of his hands naturally resting on your shoulder. Before following the gentleman who was supposed to bring him to the safe, he bent over to you, head brushing against yours, his stubble and hairs tickling your cheeks. He whispered in your ear, voice deep and hoarse, this one voice that was always making your head turn.

"When we're finished here, I'm gonna take care of ya, darlin'."

You sighed, cracking up a sly smirk, your cheeks turning a bit red. These simple words were enough to make the heat between your thighs make itself known; crying out for attention. Being so close like this was allowing you to breathe in his scent, its combination on top of his breath on your ear was a dangerous mix for your sanity. You took the opportunity of having his skin so close to your lips to place a small kiss on his neck, right below his own ear.

Arthur smiled at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling as he took a last look at you before walking off. You sighed softly again, already missing his presence. The wait for some time alone was only making your own needs grow.

You were only hoping the job would end up smoothly.

Of course, it didn't. 

Desmond, sore loser, had accused Arthur of cheating. That and the fact that the guard Javier had knocked off to steal his clothes had appeared out of nowhere yelling to shoot him had set things on fire on the Grand Korrigan, the boat now witness to a heated shooting the Van Der Linde Gang was known for.

You had instantly pulled out your hidden gun and helped Arthur clean up the place thanks to Javier who had thrown him a rifle. The night had ended with your incongruous team jumping straight in the water, swimming back to the shore, a quite odd and armed to the teeth fish shoal. At least, everyone was alive, and you even had obtained a pretty decent amount of money, not even mentioning the watch Strauss had authenticated as a real Reutlinger. Arthur had quickly taken back the precious object from his greedy hands, "well give it back then", which made you laugh to yourself.

True to himself, your cowboy had instructed everyone to separate and get out of the shore, as always after a job. You were all quite a sight, soaked to the bones. As you were greeting everyone a good night, Arthur silently walked to you and grabbed your hand. Even with the water you both had leaking from your clothes to your skin, you could feel how warm his hand was, contrasting yours which was completely freezing cold from having swam in the icy waters. You wondered if this man was even human.

"But you, Miss, are comin' with me." He playfully informed you, not leaving you any choice.

It was not as if you wanted to go anywhere else anyway.

"Really now? What d'ya have in mind, cowboy?" You asked him with an equally mischievous tone on your own, your eye glued to the way his hair looked completely soaked, subtle rivulets sliding all the way from it to his neck.

"Maybe we could pay ourselves a well-deserved night in town..." He proposed, voice turning more and more into a low growl as he was letting his desires take the lead on his reason.

"I would love that." You simply agreed, before getting closer to him, tilting your head up to bring your lips to his. He gladly let you, one hand still holding yours, the other gently landing on the side of your face.

The walk to the La Bastille Saloon was supposed to be a short one, but you both looked like you couldn't wait to be there before teasing each other. You would sometimes stop walking to just attack his neck, lips merciless as you sucked and kissed him there. Your taunting acts were often met with his equally heated answer, one of his palms ending on your ass, or your thighs, your wet clothes transparent and glued to your curves not helping him to keep his touch away from these places of your body. Arthur's breath sharpened as he called you his lil minx, and no, darlin’, we can't just do it on the streets.

Finally, after having shocked the barman by arriving at such late hours in completely soaked clothes, which honestly just made the both of you laugh mischievously, you reached your love nest for the night.

And what a nest! Silk sheets, canopy bed, sumptuous decor glistening with the dim lights of the chandeliers. Even the floor looked comfortable, carpeted with some fancy patterns, matching the couch and bed's color. Red, just like passion, just like lust. Red, like the color of your cheeks right now as Arthur had closed the door and was already on his knees, placing you on the edge of the mattress. Red, just like what Arthur was seeing right now, hungry hands pulling your dress up, positioning himself between your thighs.

You looked down at him, his darkened eyes looking at you. You noticed he had ripped off his fancy tie, needing to breathe properly, the heat between you both already making him suffocate. In those moments, his beautiful pupils were always shining with a more murky color, his usual sky blue turning into a more cobalt one. They were staring intensely into yours, expression questioning. A silent demand. You nodded positively, quietly answering. Dooming yourself.

The moment you did, he buried his head between your legs, left hand resting on your hip, holding you gently. His lips started kissing softly on the fabric of your undergarments. His other hand quickly came, helping him in his task by pulling it to the side, granting him access.

The moment his lips met your folds, you let out a moan, unable to resist the feeling he was giving you. He was loving it, his ears getting redder as he was more and more aroused himself. He was so big between your thighs, his shoulders were spreading them almost completely open.

He licked in a long, slow movement all the way to the top of your pussy, making you sigh in pleasure already, hips jerking against his head, begging for more.

"Easy, girl... I've got ya." He soothed you hoarsely, left hand holding you more firmly to prevent you from crushing him totally. Nevertheless, he took your eagerness into account; he couldn't deny you anything. Not when it came to sex. Not when you were so beautiful in this ostentatious dress. Not when he had grown more and more found of you, even if he was refusing to admit it to himself completely for now.

He brought his lips on the top of your core, tongue gently circling around this so special knot of nerves, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your skin, bringing you even more sensations.

It was already so good, Arthur's mouth showing you no pity, licking, sucking, kissing, as if you were becoming the only food he could ever feast on, the only oxygen he could breathe with. The sight of his broken nose buried beneath your skin, as if he was searching to go even deeper within you was almost too much for you to handle. Your hands that were gripping the sheets had now found the top of his head, spurring him to continue, please please please, Arthur, more, or you could have died right here on the fancy bed of the La Bastille Saloon.

Arthur's tongue answered your begging call, lapping your sensitive spot faster, harder. How the Hell was that man so good at pleasuring a woman? That, sinful, dirty man, just like the sounds you were letting out right now.

Your vision started to blur, the back of your head sinking onto the mattress, your back arching deliciously, and you were going to let him know just how close you were until he stopped all of a sudden.

"A-Arthur!" You protested, head snapping back at him, eyes pleading, tone both offended and needy as his name had sounded more like a whine when it had felt from your mouth.

He smiled cockily at you from where he was, his mouth looking wet with your arousal. He loved it, he loved being responsible for it.

"I'm here, girl... I jus' need ya too much right now. Lemme just..."

His voice was now a low rumble, coming from the depth of his chest. You watched as he quickly ripped off his clothes with little care for them. Trelawny would have shouted at how he was treating one of the most expensive suits he had ever brought.

But he didn't care about the suit. And neither do you, as your eyes were devouring every inch of his flesh that was appearing under them. The sight of a completely naked Arthur always had the same effect on you, no matter how many times you already had seen it.

His muscular body looked like it had been carved by Angels. No, more likely by an angry, dark God, who would have sculpted him from a hard and brutal material, his many scars and blurs a remnant of it. You could almost picture his tools molding your lover's broad chest and shoulders with sharp, furious hammer blows. His powerful arms and legs had received the same treatment, as if the deity wanted to pass on all of his brutal force into his creation. And his cock was definitely no exception to it.

And yet, this massive force of nature was blushing under your gaze. He couldn't have resisted the hurtful sensation of emptiness around his shaft, one of his hands now giving himself a few strokes to try and relieve some of it. His eyes closed in a frown for a few seconds, your pussy burned at this unholy scenery he was offering you.

You were in such a state of need it was almost depraved. You quickly got rid of your own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor of the room, needing to share this intimacy with him, to feel his skin against yours.

"Oh, please... Arthur, jus' take me..." You asked yourself before he could probe your adequation. You knew him well now, you already knew the next words he was going to speak would be another demand to make sure you truly wanted this.

He seemed to enjoy how you had forecasted it, his eyes opening again to look at you, his cock hardening even more, precum slowly leaking from its top, wasting all the efforts he had done to relieve it a bit.

"If that's what you want darlin'... I'm your man." He answered in a growl, climbing next to you on the bed.

You weren't sure why but his last words had made your heart swell in your chest. You were sure, deep down inside of you, that he meant it in another way. He really had become yours, and you, his. Lost in your thoughts, you let him handle you gently, placing you on your belly against the silk sheets, lying himself on top of you, legs between yours.

You slightly moved your rear up against his erection, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. Saying he had loved it was an understatement; he had been thinking about doing this with you since you had sat on him on the riverboat.

Using his right hand, he placed his cock against your entrance, and finally started pushing, your pussy already ready for him thanks to his ministrations, your mouth mewling at the sensation. Your perfect, hot walls were finally enveloping him, and he tried his best not to come just from that intense feeling alone.

He was so big and tall behind you, his head could reach yours and he buried it onto the crook of your neck, his hair still wet offering you a cold feel, contrasting with his whole hot chest pressed on your back, making you feel as if a literal inferno was burning it. He slowly started to pull back, only to shove himself in you again, starting a slow but intense back and forth.

"God, damn it... 'Feel so good girl..." He mumbled against your skin, his arms encircling you from both sides, caging you under his tall figure.

You sighed at his praise, wanting to answer something to compliment him back, but he snapped his hips just at the same time, making you shut your eyes close, and moan louder than before. Your voice was starting to crack under the amount of pleasure he was bringing to you, hard shaft brushing this deep spot within your core every time his hips moved, hitting just right where you needed him to.

He had noticed, and it was only making him lose his mind even more, unable to keep his pace slow, letting his body unleashed. He had waited this whole night to bury himself in you, listened to this moron calling you names without having the right to punch his goddamn idiotic face. He couldn't hold anything back anymore.

He started thrusting more frantically, pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast and hard he was now fucking you onto the bed. His right hand grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feeling of it colliding with his pelvis with every thrust making him insane, the other one next to your left shoulder, preventing him from crushing you completely.

You could feel it, the familiar feeling, the divine relief, building more and more thanks to him, the pace increasing your pleasure. Feeling how impossibly hard his sex had gotten in your cunt, you knew he was close too. This simple fact was the last push to your deliverance.

"A-Arthur! God, yes!" You screamed, unable to form any coherent thoughts, existing simply for this, for this moment with him, naked on the bed of this saloon. Just you and him.

"Oh, darlin’, shit!" Your orgasm had made your walls clench even more around his dick, exploding his limit. He quickly removed himself from you, and finished at the last second on your back and ass, his burning release painting your skin in flaming spurts. His very own sinful art piece.

The room felt silent again. The air stifling from your lovemaking, the only sounds being heard were your sharp, quickened breaths. Arthur took a few seconds to collect himself, feeling better and so satisfied, almost euphoric. Turning your head to the side, you took a glimpse of your lover's gorgeous state. Hair messy, cheeks and ears crimson, sweat dripping everywhere on his skin, chest rising and falling in big, profound exhales.

He then grabbed a piece of fabric from one of the wardrobes to gently wipe off his seed from you, and tossed it away, wanting nothing more but to rest against you now. A perfect contrast, from an agitated, stormy sea to a quiet, secret cove. As if you were the only one who could see him like this, vulnerable, loving even.

You watched him lay by your side on his back, your head still feeling dizzy, slowly coming back from a world of fantasies. You snuggled against him, resting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling spent but so, so happy. And you felt the same. Still naked, skin against skin, heart beating together, just the two of you.

Tonight had been quite something, and despite having won a few thousand dollars, it was definitely not money that was making Arthur feel like he had hit the jackpot.