cyndryx

Latest Posts by cyndryx

in the moonlight- fem!reader x gideon gemstone

warnings: smut, fingering (fem. receiving), sneaking around

Gideon's weight sank into the mattress, his arm coming around to pull you closer. You relaxed for a moment, letting yourself melt into the safety of his touch. His hand splayed across your waist, warm and steady, and you could feel his breath against the back of your neck, slow, even, like he’d finally let his guard down.

Then, your eyes broke open.

"Gid, your mom said-"

He groaned groggily. "I don't care," he murmured sleepily.

Amber had been clear. You were more than welcome to set up camp in the guest room, but only in the guest room. Gideon had promised, crossed his heart, and held her hands that you would both behave.

“Gid,” you whispered again, twisting slightly in his hold. “She will kill us. Like, Bible-style. Plagues and everything.”

His arm only tightened around you. “Then let it be quick.”

You stifled a laugh, half horrified, half enamored. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m tired,” he corrected, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. “And this is the first time in so, so, so long that we've slept together and I always sleep better with you."

You turned to face him, your eyes still groggy with sleep. "With me or after me?"

He chuckled. "With you, after you."

You tried to glare, but your face betrayed you—softening into a smile as you reached up to brush a piece of his hair off his forehead. He was warm and stupidly sincere, even half-asleep, and you hated how easily that melted your resolve.

“Gideon,” you warned, though there was no real heat behind it. “You swore.”

He hummed again. "I promised that she wouldn't find us in bed together," he said, his hand trailing lower and lower. "Not that I wouldn't come in here anyway."

You flinched, gripping his wrist. His fingers already trailing beneath your waistband. "Gideon, I'm serious."

"I am too."

Your grip on his wrist loosened, but didn’t fall away. “That doesn’t make this any less stupid, Gideon.”

He gave a half-smile. “You knew what you signed up for when you started sleeping with a preacher’s kid.”

"Someone's going to hear," you groaned. “Sleeping next to, Gideon. Next to.”

“Semantics.” He lowered his voice. "Please, just let me take care of you."

You nodded, relaxing just a little bit more. Gideon worked his way down through your pajama pants and underwear. He chuckled as he fiddled with the bow on the front.

"Got a little gift for me?" He teased.

You smiled into his chest. "Yeah."

His fingers rubbed your clit gently, moving the nub in soft circles. You let out small whimpers, trying not to close your eyes in pleasure as you. He eased his middle finger inside of you, feeling your wet walls around his digit. He slowly began thrusting his finger in and out of you.

"Gideon," you whimpered, burying your face into the plush fabric of his Henley.

“You’re so wet for me,” he whispered. You clenched around his finger, earning a kiss from him. "You like when I talk to you like that?"

You whimpered. Gideon eventually added a second finger, curling both of his digits so that he hit your g-spot. You jerked your hips, angling yourself differently. He continued uttering out praises and dirty talk, urging you with each thrust of his fingers. The rhythmic movements and the repetition of hitting your g-spot didn’t make it hard for your orgasm to come.

You moaned at the feeling of heat across your abdomen. You swallowed thickly, rocking your hips as he worked you though the orgasm. Your toes curled as he held you impossibly closer.

Gideon rolled onto his back, breath slow and a little uneven. The mattress shifted with him, the cool air slipping in where his body had been pressed against yours.

You whimpered softly, reaching for him without thinking. “Stay.”

His hand found yours instantly, fingers threading together as he tugged you back toward him. “Just setting an alarm,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep and softness. “For the morning. I’m not going anywhere.”

You rested your cheek on his chest, heart still beating fast from more than just the adrenaline of almost being caught. His fingers lazily brushed your spine, his other hand still holding his phone at arm’s length, screen aglow in the dark room. He set the alarm for early, way earlier than you’d like, but practical.

"Can't have them kickin' you out. It's only night one."

Sharing my new interactive BG3 fanfic, where you play as Tav. It works just like a Choose Your Own Adventure!

In this fic you can romance any of the following: Astarion, Gale, and a 3rd (secret) option.

Title: The Molten Throne

Description: Yes, you defeated the Netherbrain. But did you really finish off all those loose ends?

Link to play: https://glimmerfics.com/stories/molten

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 73

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

It was hard to say which out of Saff and Karlach were more excited as they entered the Circus of Last Days. 

The buzzing atmosphere, the delighted shouts and laughter, the music, the spectacle… Saff loved it all. The free entry meant it was a popular day trip for the orphanage she grew up in, and she had many fond memories of the hours spent there with her friends. As children they’d never received any money to spend and could only enjoy the free attractions, but today that was no longer the case.

“What are you going to do with a disguise kit?” Gale questioned as she walked away from the mummy, proudly holding her latest purchase. 

“Disguise myself, obviously,” she joked, putting it into her bag. “I haven’t decided who I’m going to disguise myself as yet, but I’m sure I’ll find a use for it! Now, what’s next?”

“A djinni with a spin-to-win game. The odds are significantly against the player, it would be a waste of money to-” “Ooh I wanna play!” She gasped, running over. Gale sighed deeply, and followed. 

Karlach was already there, watching the wheel spin, fists balled in excitement. Wyll and Malitas were with her, Wyll watching in good faith while Malitas eyed the wheel with a suspicion Saff didn’t notice at all as she ran up to them. 

“Come on, come on!” Karlach was chanting, til the wheel finally stopped, just past the jackpot. 

“ALAS - NO JACKPOT FOR YOU, UGLY ONE. BUT YOU MAY HAVE THIS!” The djinni declared, presenting her with an old pair of boots that pulsed dimly with a hint of Weave. 

“Aww…” she murmured, but quickly chased away her disappointment as she turned to Saff. “Are you gonna try?”

“Of course!” She announced excitedly, running up and handing her money over. 

Gale decided to try to forget his scepticism about such games, and instead focused on the excitement it gave her, despite knowing it was almost impossible to win.

He was rather surprised when the wheel landed on the jackpot.

“Yes!!” Saff gasped in delight, unable to believe her luck. “I got it! I can’t believe it!” “CHEATER!” 

She almost stumbled back in surprise as the djinni suddenly roared over them. 

“YOU THIEF! YOU CHEATED!”

“Wha… what? I didn’t cheat!” She objected, looking quite nervous as she stepped backwards. Gale took a step forward protectively.

“Is that really how you treat your winners? Immediately assume they’ve cheated?” He snapped accusingly, narrowing his eyes at the djinni. 

“LIAR!” He shouted at her, even louder than before. “ENJOY THE JACKPOT, MEWLING CURD!”

He raised his hands and in a poof, Saff was gone. 

Immediately, they prepared for a fight.

“What have you done with her?!” Gale shouted, and Malitas was at his side in an instant, irate with anger.

“Bring her back, now!” He demanded, but the djinni was unphased. 

“SHE GOT HER PRIZE, TAKE YOUR TURN OR MOVE ALONG,” he said dismissively, waving them away. 

“Bring her back or I will incinerate you!” Gale roared, flames flaring at his fingertips. It wasn’t very often he got so angry, but it also wasn’t very often the love of his life disappeared into thin air. 

“I SAID, MOVE ALONG!” The djinni insisted, his voice growing with anger. 

“If you do not bring her back,” Malitas began, “I will drag your soul through the depths of Avernus then eradicate it from existence!” 

The argument grew louder and louder as Karlach and Wyll joined with threats of their own, and soon they had a small audience gathering around them. Before long the whole group were with them, shouting angry threats until there was nothing but pandemonium… until a voice cut through the noise. 

“HEY!!!” They all went silent and turned to see Saff, who looked like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. 

“YOU SENT ME TO CHULT!!” She cried angrily as she glared at the djinni. “I nearly got eaten by a dinosaur!! What the hells?!” 

Gale’s anger dissipated immediately to relief, which then quickly turned back to anger once more when he realised how much danger she’d been in. Furious, he turned back to the djinni, who still looked unphased. 

“HAH! HOW DID THE DESPICABLE CHEATER ENJOY HER VACATION?” The djinni taunted smugly.

“I didn’t cheat!!” 

“YES YOU DID!” “No she didn’t! I did!” Malitas shouted, looking exasperated as he glared at the djinni. “I saw what you were doing, changing the result with a Mage Hand. So I did the same.”

“YOU ARE THE CHEATER!?” The djinni announced in a mixture of surprise and anger. “THEN YOU WILL HAVE YOUR JACKPOT!”

“If you even think of sending me to Chult-” Malitas began, before disappearing in a puff of magic. 

The djinni barely even had time to open his mouth to speak before there was the woosh of a portal, and Malitas was back. 

“I’m afraid that isn’t quite so effective on me,” he said to the djinni through gritted teeth. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

“THEN BEHOLD MY FURY!” The djinni declared, raising his hands. 

“Whatever you’re planning-”

Malitas was cut off once more by another puff of magic. There was a brief moment where the others didn’t quite know what had happened, til they all saw the cheese wheel on the ground where he’d been standing. 

“NOW, WHO’S NEXT? 500 GOLD A SPIN!” The djinni announced to the crowd. 

Saff decided she wasn’t going to waste any more time arguing with this djinni, so picked up the cheese wheel and led the group away. 

They found a secluded table and she placed the cheese wheel on it, then stepped back next to Gale as they both pondered what to do. 

“It’s just a Polymorph spell, right?” She asked, watching the cheese intensely. “So it should wear off soon?”

“Theoretically, yes. But djinn are powerful creatures. Who knows what the exact nature of this spell is,” Gale said, stroking his chin in thought. 

“Can we just cast Dispel Magic if it doesn’t wear off? Or Polymorph him into an elf?” Saff wondered, looking over at Gale. 

“I think I like him better this way,” Astarion said from behind her, only half-jokingly. 

“We are not leaving him like this!” She said firmly, and luckily they didn’t need to spend any more time wondering what to do as there was a sudden puff of magic and Malitas was back, sitting on the table with a surprised look on his face that quickly turned to anger. 

“That damnable djinni…” he muttered angrily as he stood up and began to storm back towards the djinni, until Saff quickly moved in front of him and pressed her hands against his chest to stop him. 

“No no no! We don’t need to start another fight with him!” She insisted, trying to push him back. “Look, the whole argument has spread through the circus and now no one will play his game cause they all either know they can’t win, or don’t want to be turned to cheese,” she said, gesturing behind them towards the djinni, who was desperately and unsuccessfully trying to get anyone to come to his stall. 

“Hmm…” Malitas murmured as he watched. “I suppose that is revenge enough.” He then looked down at Saff. “Are you ok? That jungle did not look very hospitable from the brief glimpse I saw of it.” 

“I’m fine. I only nearly got eaten by a dinosaur,” she joked. He chuckled, then shook his head slightly. 

“I suppose we’d best move on to whatever awaits us next in this gods-forsaken circus then,” he said, glancing around. 

“That’ll be the dryad over there!” Karlach announced, immediately running over. Malitas headed off with the others and Saff went to follow, til she felt Gale’s hand on her shoulder. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?” He asked softly. “Even nearly getting eaten by a dinosaur can be quite the ordeal.”

She smiled warmly, leaning into him in a hug to show her gratitude for his concern. 

“Yes, I’m ok. Luckily I was able to find a portal back. For some reason it came out in one of the outhouses,” she said, gesturing to the wood outhouse she’d materialised in on the outskirts of the circus. 

“That… is a curious place for the portal to be,” he agreed with a chuckle. He looked back at her, then raised his hand and gently plucked a leaf from her hair. 

“Never a day without an adventure, huh?” She joked, taking his hand and going ahead with the others towards the dryad. 

They found Wyll and Karlach with her, seemingly under some sort of spell as they both stood in front of her, eyes closed and a shimmer of purple magic surrounding them. 

“Looks like an illusion spell,” Gale commented, eagerly inspecting the magic in front of him. “I’d wager they’re both seeing something quite different right now.” 

“Apparently it’s some sort of love test,” Astarion explained with a roll of his eyes. “Honestly, sounds like a waste of-”

“OHMYGODGALECANWEDOIT?!” Saff gasped in excitement, almost reaching a pitch hitherto unknown to man. 

“Sounds most magical,” Gale said with an enthusiastic nod. “Let’s have at it!” 

Unfortunately for them, fate had other plans in store. 

Watching the dryad’s limbs twist and her bones break until finally she snapped her neck back into place left everyone stumbling back in shock. 

The revelation that Orin was a shapeshifter hung over the group, leaving a nervous tension among them as they looked at the crowd that surrounded them, suddenly aware that she could be anyone at any point. This nervousness was reinforced when Dribbles and his assistants also turned out to be doppelgangers. 

Saff sat on a nearby bench, numbly watching as the remaining circus workers hurriedly cleared away the bodies left after the fight. Gale took her hand as he sat down next to her, looking at her in concern. 

“I remember the circus being more fun than this when I was a kid…” she murmured, sighing as she rested her head against his shoulder. 

“We’ll have to come back sometime, when the threat of the Absolute doesn’t hang over us,” he decided, putting his arm around her. 

“Mmm…” she murmured despondently. “I can’t believe Dribbles is dead…” 

“Ah, ahem, yes… a terrible loss.” 

She almost had to laugh at his attempt at sympathy. 

“I know he wasn’t exactly riveting entertainment for adults, but as a kid, I loved seeing him. He was the highlight of the circus, one of the few things we didn’t have to pay for. And I know the kids in the orphanage today are gonna be distraught to hear about this,” she said sadly, hanging her head. 

“Well, let us hope another performer can take his place,” Gale offered, biting back the temptation to add ‘perhaps a better one’. 

“Mmm…” she hummed in agreement, glancing round the circus as the performers and vendors gradually tried to get back to their usual activities. “Maybe I’ll make myself feel better by buying a naked statue of you,” she teased with a playful smile as she looked up at him.

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” he warned, mostly sure that she was joking. She chuckled as she sat up and glanced towards the exit. 

“Looks like the others are ready to go. Guess you’re saved from the naked statue… for today.” 

The group headed off from the circus and towards Sharess’s Caress, though Astarion would not miss an opportunity for some light teasing before they arrived.

“I’m surprised you let that djinni off scot-free,” he said to Malitas, a smirk spreading across his lips. “I would have been rather cheesed off if I were you.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Gale added. “It wasn’t very mature of him.”

“I couldn’t brie-lieve it,” Saff teased, trying to stifle her laughter, and soon the whole group were in on it. 

“It must have been pretty grating.”

“I’d have been wheely pissed off.”

“He’d cheddar not do that again.”

Eventually Malitas stopped and turned to them all.

“Do any of you have any idea how unpleasant it is to be turned into a wheel of cheese?” He asked. The group shook their heads. “Would you like to find out?”

The threat did its job and they managed to reach Sharess’s Caress without another cheese pun. 

Lae’zel hastily led the group off to find Voss and took charge of the ensuing conversation with Raphael, until the crown was mentioned. 

Hearing that the crown was, in fact, the Crown of Karsus, came as no small shock to them, shock that quickly turned to anger when Raphael revealed his intentions with the crown.

“Handing that crown to you would be like feeding gunpowder to a lava worm! We agree to nothing!” Gale spat, glaring at Raphael with rising anger.

“Kaincha! You would refuse the devil’s deal?” Lae’zel objected, turning her fury to Gale. “I need that hammer to free my prince, and I will not let you stand in the way!”

“And I will not let you give a devil the means to become a god!” Gale retorted, prompting Saff to quickly step between them and try to de-escalate the situation.

“Stop, both of you! Lae’zel, we want to rescue Orpheus too, but this is too high a price. We’ll find another way.” 

A chill went down her spine as Raphael began to chuckle at her words. 

“Another way? Oh, my sweet little mouse - there is no other way. Either you agree to my terms, or Orpheus rots in his prison for eternity.”

“There is always another way,” Malitas said calmly, “and I assure you, devil, we will find it. This does not end with the crown in your hands.” 

“My, my, such confidence!” Raphael laughed, his lips curling up in amusement. “And coming from one who is not even infected. One might wager you wish to use the crown for yourself, for your own ends… why else would you go to such lengths to fight for a cure you do not even need?”

Saff narrowed her eyes at Raphael, recognising his attempt at sewing mistrust within the group, but Malitas wasn’t phased. 

“I see the concept of having friends is a foreign one to you,” he retorted, turning Raphael’s smirk into a flash of annoyance at the insult. 

“Go ahead - try to find another way. Waste your time desperately searching until you realise you have no other option but to use the hammer, which lies secured in my House of Hope. I am the only chance you have to free Prince Orpheus.” 

“Is that so? Secured in your vaults, is it?” Malitas questioned, a smile playing on his lips. “Just as secure as the crown was when it was taken by mortals, I’m sure…” 

His implication was obvious, and drew a laugh from Raphael. 

“Ha! How amusing it would be to see you try. But be warned - the fires of the hells burn hot, and I would hate to see you burned.”

“That is very true,” Malitas agreed as he headed to the door to leave. “But know this, devil…” 

He paused as he reached the door, turning back to face him. 

“You are not the only one here with fire in their veins.” 

Convincing Lae’zel to be content with the plan of stealing the hammer was a conversation that lasted all the way back to the Elfsong, but by the time they arrived, she was finally on board with it. 

It was late in the evening when Saff plopped herself down on the bed in front of Gale, smiling at him over the book he was reading. 

“Something’s got you excited,” he commented as he closed the book and put it aside. 

“I don’t know about you, but I was gutted not to be able to do the love test. So…” 

She produced a small, folded piece of paper from her pocket. 

“I got Karlach and Wyll to write down the questions they had so that we could ask them of each other!”

“Ah, an inspired idea!” He complimented as he sat forward, curious to know what sort of questions awaited them. 

“I haven’t read them yet, so they’ll be new to both of us. I think it was three questions each, but we both might as well answer all of them. So… ready?”

Gale gave her an eager nod, and she opened the page and looked at the first question. 

“What, on their darkest day, would make them smile?”

Her eyes flicked up and met his, the two of them looking at each other with a knowing look.

“Would it be too cheesy just to say each other?” she asked with a chuckle. 

“Cheesy perhaps, but also true. The thought of you always brings a smile to my lips,” he said softly, bringing a blush to her cheeks.

“The same is true for me,” she said sincerely. “Though if all the questions are gonna be like this, shall we say we can’t answer with ourselves? Otherwise this’ll get pretty old pretty fast.” 

“Heh, agreed,” he said with a nod. 

She looked down at the next question, and sure enough, it was a question made much more interesting when they couldn’t answer with themselves.

“Who do they most admire?” 

They looked at each other, each contemplating their answer for the other. 

“I think… Elminster,” Saff answered after a moment.

“Indeed, yes. A mentor when I was a child, and a good friend as an adult. I do hope you’ll get to meet him at some point, hopefully under better circumstances than the last time I saw him.” 

“I hope so too,” she agreed, though as exciting as the prospect was, she couldn’t deny the thought of meeting the most famous wizard in the realms also made her, in some ways, more nervous than the thought of taking on the elder brain.

“And for you…” Gale considered, stroking his chin, “I could answer the famed Jaheira or the great Blade of Frontiers, given how excited you were when we first met them both. But I don’t think it’s fame you admire most, nor stories of great heroism. I think it’s something a bit closer to home, someone who helped you personally. I think it’s Malitas.” 

She smiled to herself and nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right. He gave me a chance when no one else did… saw something in me when most people just saw a struggling waitress in a lower city tavern. Like you said with Elminster - a mentor, and a friend.” 

She paused for a moment as she reflected on each of their answers and the similarities between them, before looking down at the next question. 

“What is their greatest regret?” 

“My, what a change in tone,” Gale murmured as they both looked at each other, an answer immediately coming to their minds. 

“The orb?” Saff asked softly, looking at him in sympathy. 

“It is the obvious answer I suppose, isn’t it? Certainly it’s the first thing that came to mind for myself, as well. And yet, I am well aware that had I never found the orb, I would likely never have been taken by that Nautiloid, would still be Mystra’s lover… and would never have met you,” he said emotionally, looking at her with a loving smile. “So can I truly regret something that, despite the pain, has bought me so much joy?” 

She chuckled softly, the blush returning to her cheeks once more. 

“Well, if that isn’t your answer, then… I’m afraid I don’t know,” she said honestly. He hummed as he thought about it. 

“I like to look back on my life with some sense of pride for most of what I’ve done, though perhaps one thing does stand out for me,” he said, lightly placing his hand on hers. “I regret not telling you the truth about the orb, and myself, sooner. Seeing the pain in your eyes when Malitas told you the truth of my folly… when you realised I was not the man I’d led you to believe I was… oh, how I wish I could change that. It may have all worked out in the end, but perhaps certain confrontations could have been avoided, had I been honest from the beginning.” 

She looked down slightly, placing her other hand on his.

“Perhaps… or perhaps, as you’d said at the time, the others would have forced you to leave the group. I don’t blame you for doing what you did,” she said, bringing a smile to his lips. 

“I am glad to hear that,” he said, before his expression shifted to one of sympathy. “And, as for you…” 

She sighed and looked away slightly. 

“I suppose there’s an obvious answer for me too, though mine doesn’t come with a silver lining,” she murmured. 

“Aryn,” he said, and she nodded. 

“I wish I’d never met him. Wish I’d never got together with him, wish I’d broken up with him sooner… but the past is the past, and I have someone better to think about now,” she said with a smile, wanting to get back to happier subjects. 

The questions seemed to have other ideas in mind though. 

“Oh, uh…” she murmured, wincing as she read the next question. “Who do they loathe the most?”

Gale winced too, seeing that this subject wasn’t one they could move on from just yet. 

“Dare I suggest the same answer as the previous question?” 

Saff paused, her eyes lingering on the question as she contemplated her answer. 

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if I’d say I loathe him, I just… want nothing to do with him ever again. There’s gotta be people more worthy of loathing. Ketheric, Orin, Gortash…” 

Her tone darkened and a look Gale hadn’t seen before came to her face as she realised what the answer truly was. 

“Mystra…” 

The revelation took him by surprise. 

“Mystra? Truly? I… did not realise you felt so strongly about her.”

“How can I not?” She asked, finally looking up at him. “After everything she did to you, everything she demanded of you, everything she still demands of you. After how much she hurt you… and to know that she’ll never face any consequences, any comeuppance, because she’s a goddess. It’s so… unfair! What justice is there in the world if gods can treat their followers like this?”

“Justice enough to lead me away from her arms and into yours,” he said softly, looking at her in a way that instantly dissipated the anger. 

“I suppose that’s justice enough,” she said softly, managing to find a smile, though his smile soon faded. 

“I think, once again, our answers are mirrored.”

She frowned slightly, unsure what he meant.

“Your answer is also Mystra?” She asked, but he shook his head. 

“No. My answer is Aryn.” 

That came as a shock to her. 

“Aryn? Really?”

“Yes, for all the same reasons you listed. I’ve seen what he did to you, how much he hurt you. I’ve felt it myself, in your memories. And I’ve seen the pain in your eyes when you talk about him. So as you said - how can I not?” 

She had to agree with his logic - if she could hate Mystra on his behalf, then he could hate Aryn on hers. 

“Next question’s a bit happier,” she said, a hint of relief in her tone. She hadn’t really expected this to lead to such a deep conversation. “What is their idea of a perfect day?” 

The smirk on Gale’s face mirrored her own as she looked back up at him. 

“Hmm, I dare say your perfect day would start with a stroll through the park, perhaps with a picnic for lunch…” he started, leaning in slightly as he took her hands in his. 

“Hmm, and yours might be the same?” She suggested, leaning in with him. “Maybe with a ball in the evening, a lavish banquet…” 

He moved in until his mouth was at her ear, his breath hot against her neck as his hands found her waist. 

“Followed by making love under the stars…” he whispered, a yearning in his voice that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. 

“Mmm… that does sound like a perfect day,” she agreed as he pulled back and met her eyes once more. He remained close as his eyes flicked down slightly. 

“What’s the last question?” 

She looked down too, and smiled once more as she read it. 

“A decade from now, where will they be?”

Her eyes flicked up again and saw the warm, loving expression he gazed at her with. 

“Well, now I cannot answer with any certainty, but I would hope that ten years from now, another ball might be graced with the presence of Lady Saffron Dekarios…” 

His implication was clear - not a full proposal, but a hope. A hope she shared. 

“As long as she has Sir Gale Dekarios on her arm,” she whispered, her gaze full of affection as she closed the gap and their lips met with a kiss.

---

She tilted her head from side to side, smiling as she watched the pearlescent gleam of the enchanted emerald within the display case she was cleaning. 

The room was filled with all the most powerful, most valuable and most interesting artefacts Malitas had found in his centuries of adventuring, all sealed away in glass cabinets and display cases. Though the cabinets lay somewhat more empty now after Malitas had given the others a selection of weapons to aid them, and more recently she’d noticed a Staff of Power go missing, only to later be told he’d given it to Saff as a graduation gift. How incredible it must be, she thought, to be able to wield a weapon like that…

The door opened and snapped her out of her daydream. 

“Ah, there you are,” Malitas greeted as he entered the room. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t hear you return,” she said, walking over to him and giving him a hug. “So what adventures did today bring?” 

“Revelations more than adventures,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. “I scarcely dared to believe it could be true, but our suspicions have been confirmed - the crown atop the Elder Brain is the Crown of Karsus.” 

Her eyes widened in disbelief. 

“The Crown of Karsus… but how?? I didn’t think that even existed anymore!” 

“Neither did I, yet here we are. One of the most powerful artefacts in existence, so close to our grasp. The possibilities are… endless. But we can do nothing with this knowledge until we learn more about it. I intend to discuss this further with the others tomorrow.” 

She nodded slowly, possibilities running through her mind. 

“Any other revelations?” She asked after a moment. 

“Orin is a shape-shifter. A foreboding revelation to say the least. She plays her parts well - she took the face of a dryad at the circus, and we were none the wiser till she revealed herself.” 

“Circus?” 

It perhaps wasn’t the part of that sentence that should have stuck out most to her, yet it did. 

“You went to the circus? The Circus of the Last Days?” 

“We did, yes.” 

Memories flooded back to her. Laughter and dancing with her friends… it left a deep ache in her heart. 

“How was it?” She asked, trying to hide how much she longed to go again someday. 

“Infuriating,” Malitas answered, to her surprise. 

“Why??” 

There was a pause as he seemed to contemplate his response. 

“...Doesn’t matter,” he answered eventually. 

She raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes, but knew better than to question it. 

“Now, I have much work to do, I’d best get to it,” he decided quickly, heading back to the door. 

“Actually…” She started, running over to him before he left. “I had a favour to ask you.” He gave her a nod to continue. “Well, I’ve cleaned all these cabinets and cases more times than I can count, but I’ve never really known what’s inside them. I wondered if you could tell me what everything is?” 

A look of surprise crossed his face.

“Everything? We’ll be here all night. Why do you want to know?” 

“Cause I’m curious… and I’m bored. There’s only so many stories you can make up in your head about an emerald while you clean its case for the hundredth time. I’d much rather know the truth.” 

He gave her a sympathetic look, and nodded. 

“I supposed I cannot begrudge you your curiosity,” he said, then put his arm around her waist and began to lead her through the room. 

“The emerald is in fact an elemental gem, if you were to break it, it would summon a water elemental…” 

She went quiet as she listened to his explanations, carefully committing each and every one to memory.

louis de pointe du lac — denial is a river

girl, so confusing // luke brandon field + eric bogosian

Somebody translated the infernal runes face tattoo that you can put on your character and the runes on the forhead literally just spell "forhead", the runes on the nose spell "nose" and the runes on the chin say "chin"

Gale Guides and Ultimate Gale

This will be my master post, I guess :D Hello! I am the creator of Gale Guides and I want to spread my unhinged nerding about Gale on Tumblr too. Because why not. Maybe someone will find it helpful. But mostly because I want more players to get Ultimate Gale for themselves. Make him seen! Make him alive! He is so worth it! Use my Gale endings part 2 and get him before he is erased!

GaleGuide: Basic Gale Endings Guide Part 1

GaleGuide: Not so basic Gale endings (friend Gale included) Part 2

GaleGuide: Case of a sneaky God

GaleGuide: Difference between Gods

GaleGuide: Scenes in Act1

GaleGuide: How to get all Grove scenes and speed run to the Weave scene

Now look at him!

No mods! He is human and he is God at the same time.

You can hug him! You can kiss him! He will boop you! Tara is happy! But at the same time:

Tav: Are you saying you want to ascend? Claim godhood? Gale: No, not like that. I don’t want to join them. I want to better them. A god’s powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.

This is our better God. He exists within the Game! He is ULTIMATE. He is everything. GET HIM GET HIM GET HIM GET HIM NOW

I hope I don't suck at advertising lmao

BG3 Fanfic Masterlist

Welcome to Gale rot! I plan to keep this pinned and add to it as additional pieces become available. Enjoy! Always open to feedback and requests. Ao3 Account

NSFW18+ Works

Gale x Tav Stormshore Tabernacle Gale x AFAB You x Rolan Gale x Thoughts of Tav at Last Light Gale x Gender Neutral Tav Reunion Party Gale x Tav Reunion Party NSFW 18+ Professor!Gale x Tav Mid-Night Affair GalexYou!GenderNeutral NSFW18+ Shadowlands Professor!GalexFemReader First Day in Waterdeep GalexGender Neutral Reader Lorroakan's Chair Rugan x Fem Reader GalexFemReader Astral Boat Gale x Reader Peeping Tom

God!Gale Paths xYou!Gender Neutral

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |Part 5 PATH 1 Part 5 PATH 2 & 3 | Part 6 Path 2/3 | Part 7 Path 2 | Part 7 Path 3

Dekarios The Divine

Part 1 | Part 2 NEW

Enemies to Lovers BG3 GalexAFAB/Fem!Tav

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20| Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 NEW: Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 NSFW18+ | Part 38

Fluff!

AU Professor!Dad!Gale Bakes a Cake Professor!Gale Comforts You(GN) After a Nightmare GalexYou Yearning & Hiding GalexYou Pep-Talk Yearning Gale x You The Dinner Party Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt 4 | Pt. 5

NEW: Gale x You Night One | Day One | The Afternoon

The Blade 🗡

"Now, you stand above your father. Above all those lesser men. Soon, the entire world will kneel at your feet. And I will always be by your side, my Blade."

*sigh* me and may friends paid Theo Solomon to say in Wyll's voice that he's "in da club straight up jorkin it" so of course I have to infect as many people as possible with this newly created cursed audio

Update: we met him at dragoncon and he actually recognized us from the cameo 😭 he was very sweet and enjoyed our wyll ravengard fanclub/sus coven shenanigans

to admit everything / gale dekarios

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Several months after your adventure's conclusion, Gale invites you to visit his tower in Waterdeep — and finally, he finds the courage to admit his feelings for you.

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pairing: gale dekarios x reader

word count: 36.0k

tags: 18+, smut with feelings (and a fair bit of plot), reader is tav, reader is fem bodied (but no gendered terms are used), love confessions, fic takes place after the epilogue, "you fell first but he fell harder", mild sensory deprivation, inappropriate uses of magic, gale talks a Lot, slight angst (but there's a happy ending, don't worry), dirty talk, fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms, oral (reader receiving), tender sex, slight mentions of blasphemy, i am not immune to his wizardly charms....

read on ao3

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this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

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When Gale wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, for the first time in ages, you can finally relax. 

From your stiff shoulders, down to the ends of your toes, your weary muscles untense. It's as though he's cast a spell on you; which you know he could do, but he doesn't have to. A soft palm cradles the back of your head, and he pulls you in closer. You bury your head in his chest, the smooth velvet of his shirt rubbing your cheek. 

Slowly, deeply, you inhale. You're enveloped in the familiar scent of him: the rich smell of pine, filling your senses with something tender. Something you've missed. The breeze that wafts in from his balcony veils you in a breath of the sea. Gale always found a way to smell the same as a book's crisp pages. He'd carry the faint aroma of the scrolls he often littered his tent with, or of his library, regardless of how long you spent surrounded by nothing but wilderness. 

The intimacy of it is enough to make you dizzy. If you had things your way, you'd hug him tight like this, and you wouldn't ever think of letting him go. 

"It feels as though it's been forever since we were last acquainted," Gale says in your ear quietly. Genuinely, with the slightest exhale tacked on at the end — and still, after hearing his voice for hours, watching as he lectured his pupils on some form of magic you've barely heard of, you believe you wouldn't mind listening for a few hours more. 

"Our get-together wasn't that long ago, you know," You counter, voice slightly muffled, spoken into his chest. 

"Yes, but surely you understand." His grip on you seems to tighten as you both rock gently, back and forth, "It's rather difficult to go from spending nearly every moment you're awake with someone, to only having the pleasure of meeting them on a few select occasions. Allow me to savor this moment, please. There may not be another one like it." 

There may not be another one. 

Gods, you know he's right. Both of you are busy, now. You live in two separate cities, lead two separate lives. There's others from the party you haven't seen; not yet, anyways. The only reason you saw Gale now is because back then, you had the foresight to plan to. 

That inevitable prospect is one you aren't sure you want to think about. You don't want to imagine parting from Gale again. 

Your friends would've called you sappy. They might've gone and teased you for taking forever to meet with the damn wizard in the first place. You obviously wanted to. The hug you gave him back then was hardly a friendly one. More like a I'm glad you're here, now don't you dare leave again sort of hug. Not to mention the way Gale himself eyed you for the rest of the party — as if no-one would notice. 

Truthfully, your life has been busier than you hoped it would be, ever since your adventure's big conclusion. You did want to see Gale again. Of course you did. But simply wanting isn't good enough. The party was the first time you saw him since then, and this has been the first time after that. 

You were hoping to relax for a while. To spend time away from the stress. You definitely earned it. Unfortunately, you've wound up doing anything but. 

Make no mistake, you're unbelievably grateful to no longer be dealing with a world-ending threat, or a parasite in your brain. Helping to rebuild the city is nothing compared to the shit you've already dealt with. You're happy that you no longer have to worry over whether you'll even make it out of this alive. Whether any of you will still be alive, in the end. But you've hardly been able to settle. Not in the way you wanted to, at least. 

For as many people that revere you, that now think of you as a hero, those words seem to do nothing for you. For as big and grand of a city as Baldur's Gate still is, and for as long as you've called it your home, it's only begun to feel like the loneliest place in the world. 

And your friends — Obviously you'd wind up going your separate ways. It'd be stupid to think otherwise. You have different lives to return to, new struggles to face. You know that. It doesn't change how much you've grown to miss them. 

There won't come a time where you'll stop missing those moments, you figure. The times when things were quiet, when you worked together, grew together. That's okay. Some allegiances aren't meant to last forever. In the end, it was an idea you made peace with. Until one of your companions stubbornly refused to leave your heart. 

You peer up at him, as Gale looks down at you, before he lets go of you slowly, almost hesitantly. He pulls backward, meeting your eyes. This embrace reminds you of the one from back then. You don't fail to notice how his expression softens around the edges, how he takes your hands, gently squeezing them. Ultimately, he allows them to slip away, letting go. 

You carried your thoughts of him with you, long after you'd since parted ways. The sound of his voice, the softness it seemed to take on whenever you're the one he was speaking to. The accidental touches, the brushes of fingers. An arm placed in front of you, to usher you behind him whenever he thought you might get hurt. 

Without the ability to pry into his thoughts, you have no clue whether he fondly remembers things the same way you do. You were unmistakably close, once. In an earlier time, you brought your hands to his shoulders, you kept your eyes locked on his. Your words were shaky. Your heart was pounding, shaking against the cage of your chest. You can't lose him, you remember admitting, and Gale smiled, told you that you wouldn't. Even though you knew damn well there was more he wasn't telling you. 

Hindsight would convince you the only thing he concealed was how truly scared he was. If you did feel more for each other, if what you thought you understood wasn't a lie — No matter what ways you tried, neither of you could hide it, but you certainly couldn't talk about it either. 

It's difficult to search for the time to discuss unadmitted feelings when your lives are constantly on the line. Impossible, actually. Honestly, you weren't sure how you'd tell him, regardless of if you could. Nevermind the playful encouragement of your companions, or the listless jabs at your solitude from your undead resurrector, this sort of thing has never been your forte. Hey, I care for you more than good friends are supposed to, is that alright? 

I couldn't stand to see anything happen to you, and I hoped you might notice, might do what I'm not able to. You could look into my head with a single word, and yet nothing but distance has grown in between us. 

I'd travel it, if I was able. I want you to understand, I never hoped to part from you. I never want you to shut up whenever you're telling me about magic, or history, or any of the things you know everything about, even once you quiet down because you think I do. 

How am I supposed to tell you that? 

You can't, and you didn't. You both had the fate of the world in your hands, and the last thing either of you needed to be worrying about were your up-in-the-air feelings. 

You would ignore the elated blankness in your head whenever Gale eased the tension with a smile flashed your way. You pushed down the giddiness in your chest whenever he gave a gentle yet pragmatic comment, one you tried not to read into. Over and over, you would pretend not to be flustered by his small touches, by the glances that lasted a little longer than they should. Despite the ache of your heart in your chest, you convinced yourself that you and him were friends. Nothing more. 

Yes, friends who would sneak into one another's tents when everyone else was asleep to quietly talk, laughing together until the sun began to graze the horizon. Friends who kept each other going, who saw one another when they were weakest: torn apart by the Gods, with nothing left to do but pick up the pieces. Friends who are the only ones to know what the other is truly thinking, no spells or uncanny mind connections needed. 

You're simply mere acquaintances. Two people on the same bloody path, who just so happened to be lucky enough to meet, and managed to grow closer than acquaintances ever should be. You were pushed together by circumstance. You chose to understand each other with purpose. 

Has Gale ever yearned for more, in the way you've yearned for him? 

Gale is observant. He knows you, he'd know if there was something up with you. Likely, he already does. More so, he's ambitious; he wouldn't forget about you, everything vying to push you away be damned. You've come too far to suddenly cast each other aside. But some things are better left unspoken. 

Eventually, you expected you'd never find out the truth. You were too little, too late. The closest you ever got to a true confession was in the moments you found yourselves alone, and those are few and far between, these days. Now that you've run out of excuses, even now that everything is over, he's here and you are alive — You can't say a damn thing. 

You think it's why you haven't seen him. You've been busy, yes, leading a new life and grappling with your newfound freedoms, but given the chance, you'd put every last thing aside to make time for him. When those feelings of yours are left to build and build, they threaten to drown. And drown you did. 

It's strange, how meeting with him again can feel like finally being coaxed to breathe, and like suffocating freely, all at the same time. 

You decide to breathe in once more, and break the silence at last. 

"You're ridiculous sometimes," You scoff, shaking your head. Your tone is more fragile than you intended, as you catch yourself in your own hypocrisy. You still manage to throw him a warm glance. "I thought we were both past talking that way. We have all the time the world is generous enough to offer us. Do you really think I wouldn't plan on seeing you again?" 

Gale's lips tip upward to form his usual smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled. To a combination of your bewilderment and delight, you're already melting. 

"They say old habits die hard, I suppose," He replies, first shrugging his shoulders, and then standing up straighter. He clasps his hands together, positioning them uniformly behind his back. "And who knows? I wasn't sure how much enjoyment you drew from being an honorary professor for the day. Seemed as if you were a tad overwhelmed, actually." 

"Of course I was. Well, I was anxious, more like." You're staring off to the side while you think, crossing your arms over your chest. "I mean, you said your students think of me as a hero. I was trying not to say anything stupid." 

"In that case, I'd say you have no need to worry," Gale answers, "You sounded perfectly eloquent." 

Meeting his eyes again, you huff, "I'm glad you think so. I enjoyed today. But seriously, I came here for you, Gale. Not because I was ecstatic about teaching." 

You swear that if you were to squint, you'd see the smallest twinge of pure adoration on the normally-so-confident wizard's face. 

Gale raises a fist to his mouth and clears his throat. "I understand your qualms, but truly, you did well. No-one finds teaching to be easy- I mean, it's an unbelievably stubborn process, if anything. I've always been the recipient of lectures. Never the other way around, until my newfound position. It took me quite a while to get a good grasp of things, believe you me." 

"Really?" You raise a brow, "I, for one, thought your teaching was impeccable. I was looking forward to asking for some pointers from Professor Dekarios himself, actually." 

"Oh, come on. Your flattery is far from needed," He replies, his tone breathy and playful. You exhale a faint chuckle, and when you grin back, his own smile seems to soften at the edges. A look reserved exclusively for you. 

Gale continues, "You've seen my pupils for yourself now. You know how difficult they can be. In the face of such… stunning magic," His eyes narrow, he makes an open-palmed gesture of wonderment to illustrate his point, "Magic they themselves could learn to wield, it's rare to see them at least attempt to stay awake. I take some of the blame, of course. At certain moments, I thought you were teaching them better than I ever have." 

"Nonsense," You roll your eyes light-heartedly, placing a hand on your hip, "They do well on their tests, right? I doubt your teachings are lost on them. Besides, it's like you said. Being a teacher isn't easy." 

"True. However, I certainly think we make an impressive team." 

With one last smile, and a nod of his head, Gale turns, striding over to his small wooden desk. 

The space is surrounded by bookshelves, the desk's every surface littered in open books and scrolls of its own. He thumbs through the stack of papers he set there earlier, essays his students turned in — A paper about the history of magic was his instruction, if you remember right. Gale was less than satisfied with their results, but in his own words, he couldn't fault them. 

They are the same as I was, when I was their age. A spitting image, really. Dodging written assignments, snoozing through most lectures. They're talented, there's no denying it. Preventing them from picking up my bad habits is where matters turn difficult. 

He lifts the stack, tapping the papers against the desk to make them straight. Then, he sets them neatly aside. He clearly has a specific place for them, though you don't think you'd ever be able to make sense of the mess, yourself. 

"Either way," He starts, organizing more loose papers and scattered books while he talks. His back may be turned towards you, but you can picture his face clearly: the lightest smirk, the pinch of his brows, "I'm sure my students were pleased to hear from someone other than me for a change. Dare I say when you were speaking, they actually paid attention." 

Delicately, like the simplest of words are valuable porcelain, you mutter, "Is that so? I should come see you more often, then." 

Gale freezes for a second. His next few sentences come out much sweeter than he intended them to, but by the time he's opened his mouth, he isn't able to stop himself. 

"I'd enjoy that. I truly would," He says, and setting the books he's holding aside, he turns to face you. He swallows the lump in his throat, and when he's speaking next, he's talking with his hands as he tries — and fails, mostly — to hide his nervous cadence. 

"You don't need to come simply to help me teach," He explains, "I appreciate it, of course, but it's far from necessary. My home is always open to you. If you need to unwind someplace quiet, or if you're hoping to browse the grandest collection of tomes this side of Waterdeep, you're welcome to stay. For as long as you'd like." 

The offer means more to you than he might realize. 

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." 

"No, thank you," Gale retorts, "I cannot overstate how much I appreciated seeing you again. Today was a delight." 

Your glance travels away, and you try to ignore the warmth prickling over your face. From his open balcony, the sun casts shimmering rays as it falls. Light glitters over the ocean's rocky waves. The sea breeze is growing sharper; it whispers in your ears, and tickles the hair on the back of your neck. When you take a deep inhale, the air seems to catch in your lungs, holding on, unwilling to let go. 

Finally, faintly, you reply, "You'll have to show me more of Waterdeep, next time. It's a beautiful city." 

"Splendid, isn't it? I could show you around tomorrow, or even tonight, if you aren't too exhausted from today. The sights are particularly breathtaking then, when they're allowed to flourish under the cover of stars and moonlight." 

Gale takes a step closer to you, and you're left to look up at him again. At the way the light caresses his skin, at his handsome features framed by a gentle smile. 

"There's so many wonders I want you to see." He confesses. 

More than that. He's longed for more than he's admitted to, more than everything he thought mattered, before he met you. There's so much he wants to show you, so much he needs to tell you, he's begun to lose track of it all. 

Ever since you parted ways, he's felt something missing. Those adventures, your company and that of your unlikely band of companions: they're all things he's grown to miss dearly. In hopes he'd move on, he overwhelmed himself with the endeavors of his new life. He focused on teaching, on studying, on magic. No matter what, he was filled with an ache he couldn't extinguish. 

You'd tease him if he mentioned it. He can imagine your voice, mumbling playfully with a flash of teeth and a sparkle in your gaze, Something missing? A tadpole in your brain, maybe? 

Very funny, he'd answer. And he'd leave it at that, because you've given him an out, a chance not to make a fool of himself. He doesn't need everyone to hear how sentimental he's become — and especially not you. If only you knew the half of it. 

You took a piece of him with you when you left, pried from the space between his ribs, fated to burn in your embers. He hasn't stopped missing you with such ferocity. With a certain kind of hunger. It's damn near worse than when the orb once gnawed at him. 

To have you now almost feels like a dream. He keeps thinking he might wake up, that this will melt away to leave him and him alone. This shouldn't be real, you both shouldn't have made it. Gale recalls with sickening familiarity when the end of his life felt so close. He can remember even clearer the moment he found a new purpose in you. 

You've been important to him from the start; he doesn't do a very good job of hiding it, does he? Those stolen glances were easily caught. His nervousness whenever you're with him concedes enough to make him obvious. 

He could have told you. Could have admitted how you make the fragile strings of his heart strum with every fond call of his name. You could have known the way he felt between soft breaths, and close bodies. During the moment when he showed you how to wield the Weave at your fingertips. It would have been terribly simple. A single thought, and you'd not only know, but you'd feel his own emotions rushing into you — A rippling river of infatuation. Isn't it unfortunate then, that you tend to make his mind so blank? 

The heart can be so cruel. No longer can he give you what he was aspiring to grace you with. He can't give you power. He can't offer you the abundances of a God, or the beauty of a plane away from this one. Only the ordinary. 

Falling for you was never the problem. You weren't someone he believed he deserved. 

His own hesitance forms a maddening sphere to be trapped in, and he knows it's his own fault; his own fear is to blame, his edge of destruction. You gave him hope. You've given him more than he ever could have desired, and that includes ascension. Is it so wrong for him to want more? 

Many times, he's certainly thought so. He doesn't need anything else. He has already touched the heavens and beyond with the time he's spent by your side. Your dumb adventures, your talks, the uncertain closeness. It was nearly all he needed to be sated. 

Nearly. 

"Gale…" 

Your soft utterance of his name snaps him out of his thoughts. Gale examines you, and you're glancing away, an expression he can't make out on your face. The setting sun bathes you in intoxicating orange light. You seem to have your own halo, your own radiance that defies reason. You defy a lot of the things he thought he knew. 

He can only answer with a small, breathy, "Yes?" 

A little while longer, and he might be ready. One night spent looking at the sky, or another time to confide in the comfort of your voice and your presence. He'll make it perfect. He'll find the courage, or the stars will witness his failure once again. 

Crossing paths with you changed everything about himself he once thought he understood, and he finds the revelation as funny as it is delightful. To have you to miss was a privilege, in and of itself. Fate was never a concept he believed in, but evidently, the threads of his fortune had more in store for him. You became more than a wish, you were tangible. You were kind, intelligent, you were defiance incarnate. You rewrote the part of his story he thought untouchable. He watched Gods kneel at your feet, and he felt your softness latch onto him like a second home. 

And he finally has time, doesn't he? 

The time to tell you, the time to spend with you. Because he is alive, and the restlessness and nervousness he still feels inside shouldn't matter. How foolish he once was, for thinking things would turn out any other way. 

In every other life, you still would've saved him. In a life where he was better, less scared, and not so temporary, perhaps you would have known he loved you already. 

"I couldn't. I… I want to stay," You're starting; regret tugs at the edges of your voice, and Gale begins to feel his heart sink with each and every word. "Maybe I could some other time, but I can't now, I shouldn't. There's business that needs to be dealt with back home, in Baldur's Gate- I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner." 

Gale huffs an impeccably dry laugh. He grins just slightly, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and he softly responds, "Busy, aren't you? The grand savior of Baldur's Gate is needed on the field, I see. I understand. I won't hold you any longer." 

"You aren't holding me up, Gale. It's nothing important, I guess I just…" Trailing off, you inhale deeply, trying not to stumble over your own words. Your glance darts from the floor of his study to the sculptures to the trinkets — Anything to keep your eyes away from his. "I didn't want to intrude. It would feel strange if I stayed. Like I'd be taking advantage of your hospitality, I suppose." 

Gale frowns. "I promise you this, on absolutely everything left in our universe for me to promise on, you could never intrude. I meant my words, I told you that you could stay for as long as you desire, and-" 

"I know." You answer, like a frustrated plea, like a sacrificial revelation. Your hands ball up at your sides. Your voice is loud, before it goes quiet. "I know. It's my fault, alright? This doesn't have anything to do with you. I just can't stay." 

The air grows so tense it's almost suffocating. Though, for only a second or two. 

"So, becoming my honorary guest professor was that bad, was it?" Gale hums. 

Then, you're laughing weakly, you're brushing an awkward hand over the back of your neck and looking up at him, your expression now pleasantly amused. His doting gaze meets yours, framed by a few out of place strands of hair. 

"No," You mumble teasingly, stretching out the end of the word with a roll of your eyes; he always knows how to make you weak. "And I've already promised to come teach with you again. As long as you aren't worried about me showing you up, that is." 

"Oh, by all means, do show me up plenty," He eagerly replies, "I won't try to stop you." 

You huff a quick chuckle, and there it is again — Your gaze, sparkling. Gale feels the way you draw him in without trying, until his attention is fully focused on you. Until you have him right where you want him. To think of how doomed he'd be if you ever got your hands on some charming magic. 

"I've really missed you, y'know," You're admitting. Your tone is different somehow, unmistakably. "The party honestly has felt like forever ago. Back then, I thought we didn't have near enough time. Catching up was pleasant, but it felt… imperfect. And now, we spent an entire day together. You're right here in front of me, and yet, still. I miss you." 

Gale's jaw clenches, and with nothing left to stop you, you continue. 

Your throat grows tight. You expel a long, heavy sigh. "Do you want me to tell you the truth?" 

"I wouldn't shy away from it." He returns. 

"If I stay for any longer, I wouldn't have it in me to leave." Your gaze dances over his own, and he understands the uncertainty, mixed with faint emotions he doesn't. "Not ever." 

For what is probably the first time since you've met him, Gale goes completely, utterly silent. You watch him think, his expression pinching — perhaps irritated at his own loss for words — before he softens. His chest rises slowly with the deep breath he takes. Light glitters off his silver earring. Shadows form in his features, his lips part in an almost-sentence. In the end, he swallows it down, and grits his teeth together to the point of pain. 

You're standing close. So close, he can see the slight, frustrated crinkle in your brows that only seems to furrow more the longer he stays quiet. So close, he could lean in if he wanted to, and relay the depths of his longing from his hesitant lips onto yours. 

It isn't like him to be speechless this long. 

Your head tilts towards him, tender curiosity on your face. Your arm outstretches, and a hand gently begins to reach in his direction. "Gale?" 

He's about to do something foolish. Something very, very unwise. He'd attempt to stop himself, if the words weren't already forming on his tongue. He'd give up as he did before, if only the dying light wasn't so lovely on you. 

At least he knows it won't be the most nonsensical thing he's done.

Gale's gaze fills with warmth, with a devotion so resolute, you could believe you really are some form of a God. He catches your hand, and grasps it in a clumsy way; more clinging than holding, as fingers brush knuckles, folded over one another. As if you might disappear when he lets go. 

This time, there's no more room for wondering. No more hesitation, no barriers, just himself and you: his fallen star, his lovely demise. It doesn't matter what he does or doesn't do, your existence will never leave his veins, running deeper than the fear and the magic ever has. The same way the Weave crackles at his fingertips, adoring you comes naturally. You are yourself, and you, in all your love, in flesh and bone — You are worth anything, or perhaps everything. 

A little while longer. To the Hells with that. 

"I'm in love with you." 

It's easier to say those words than he expected. They just sort of happen; really, they seem natural. He's been agonizing for ages, but to hear his own voice say them aloud cements his feelings as true. He is in love with you. An honest, mortal love. 

He doesn't have the time to worry over the consequences, because you've heard him loud and clear. His heart won't stop pounding, and pounding, and pounding. 

Almost instantly, your eyes are going wide. Your own grip on his hand turns loose. Surprise washes warmly over your face, settling as a pleasant tingle in the expanse of your shoulders. For a moment, you don't speak. You take in quick, nervous breaths, feeling your lungs choked by emotion and sea salt. 

"You really- Why're you-" You sputter, stumbling back slightly and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Your arms go slack as you expel a faint sigh, "Gale-" 

"You do not have to say anything. And you're under no obligation to stay." Gale interrupts, his tone abruptly serious. His expression reflects the same sort of solemness, his brows in a knot. He tries to hide the shake to his words, tries to chase away his worries, "You can leave, if you wish. You can leave, and we can never speak of this again. I wouldn't blame you. I couldn't blame you. I'd know better, not to chase after you and… to simply leave things as they are. Like I should have done now. If I wasn't the ass that I am." 

A brief pause. Your eyes scan him, and Gale resists the urge to let his nervousness get the better of him. 

"But I had to speak," He says. "This may be my only chance. I can't lie to you in the same way I've lied to myself." 

Your next words are spoken with conviction. You squeeze his hand, and the dizzy room around him finally begins to steady — "Then tell me, Gale. I want you to tell me everything." 

It's like the sun is shining right onto him. Heat and pure energy rushes from your hands into his, your voice a conduit for emotion. You practically give him a head rush. 

Gale swallows, steadies. Then, he speaks. 

"And what an abundance of things I could tell you." 

Grasping your hands and squeezing them back, he's smiling again, but this time, it's different. The whole moment seems different. He's wearing an excited, heartfelt sort of smile, a look you think you've never seen before. Well, perhaps you saw it once. 

You're reminded of the way he looked at you many, many nights ago. When your fates weren't assured. When you gazed upon the stars together, admiring the aurora he created — dazzling light, to pierce the sky of shadow. That memory seems so near, yet so far away. His solemness melted to gentleness back then, too. Your souls felt closer than they ever had. 

Was this what he wanted to tell you that night? 

"Let's see," Gale is continuing, and you're grinning, watching his head tilt as he puts on an air of confidence; his own form of sincerity. 

"I wonder what I should tell you first? Should I detail each intricate moment, every subtle action that made me fall so deeply for you? For your determination, your ingenuity. Your beauty. Gods, you shouldn't get me started. If you truly wanted me to describe every single thing I adore about you, well, I believe we'd be nothing but dust by the time I was finished." 

You can't help but chuckle. Gale's gaze travels over you, and you let yourself take him in. His fingertips absently run over your knuckles. His shoulders are tense with a hesitance he can't manage to hide. 

"I'll make a terribly long-winded story brief, before I bore you with my sentiments." This time, he sounds a fair bit quieter. The depths of his honeyed gaze, ever-softening, become impossible to look away from. 

"You are very special to me." He gently explains, "More than words can describe, and certainly more than anything else. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. While the world was crumbling around us, begging to be saved, I thought myself content, if only I could spend whatever remained of my time at your side." 

Carefully, Gale reaches forwards. Between his fingers, with the slightest, most exhilarating touch, he holds your chin, he tilts your head in his direction. Your heart begins to hammer in your chest to an unsteady rhythm. 

"Love does not even begin to describe it. You are wonderful. You are the special sort of magic one might spend their entire life searching for. The most divine of desires. I've no need to search anymore." 

A brush of his thumb over your mouth, and his calloused fingers are splaying back to caress your cheek, to feel the shape of your jaw, "I have the heavens right in my hands. All the spectacles and splendors of Faerûn are jealous of you." 

You relax, and when his grasp drops from your chin, you let your hand slip away from his — only to wrap your arms around him, elbows resting on his shoulders. He admires you intently, gauging your reaction, his heart skipping at your touch and the subtle flash of shyness behind your eyes. A sort of analysis you've seen him use when he was examining an artifact, or mulling over a game of lanceboard. The tender focus his face takes on makes you huff in amusement. 

With a teasing raise of your brow, you manage to ask, "How many times have you practiced saying that to me?" 

"A hundred times. A thousand times." Gale keeps his arms at his sides, despite the way you embrace him tighter. In the corner of your vision, you catch him starting to reach out. His hands hover inches away from your waist, he flexes them in thought. 

"No, I often went back and forth on the precise method I would use to confess, given I actually had the gall to do it, but," He explains, a slight playful air to his tone, "Those words were from the heart. Just a few specs of fondness from my vast nebula of love for you. If you can believe that." 

"They're very… you. In a good way." Your smile is bright. He thinks it might continue to warm him, long after the point of the sun's imminent descent. "It's a shame, though. I wasn't expecting you to beat me to it. I've been practicing how I would tell you I'm in love with you since we met." 

If there's one thing you've come to know about the wizard, it's that he's collected. 

Calm, mostly. But unperturbed always. He's optimistic to a fault, and he's never been the type to seem nervous or timid, even if he might be feeling that way. He's an honest man, but also controlled — You have to exercise a certain amount of control to wield magic. Or to keep your own body from exploding to bits, you figure. With the orb posing much less of a threat, he's clearly more relaxed, but his emotions still don't show so easily. 

You've seen him scared. But nervous? Shy? Those sorts of feelings were never in his repertoire. He's never once stumbled over his words, never been red-faced, never faltered from his confidence and his verbosity. Until now. 

"You- You have?" Gale sounds so in disbelief, you swear his voice nearly cracks. He clears his throat awfully loudly, he glances between you and something in the distance. Which proves to be difficult, considering how close you are. Has the skin underneath his collar always felt so hot? "I had no idea. I mean, clearly, but- But still." 

"I wasn't sure if you knew. You're more charming than you give yourself credit for," You clarify softly, "I thought for sure you'd make a move at that little tiefling party. Started planning what I might say and everything. Apparently, you failed to realize I was flirting with you." 

"I wasn't even trying to woo you then," Gale mumbles, thinking to himself. "Well, that's- Hah, quite the discovery, now isn't it? Care to- uhm, enlighten me on what it was you planned to say, exactly?" 

"Mmm, possibly. You seem flustered. Should I show you, instead?" 

"Show me?" 

"Yes," You stand up straighter, making his heart race faster as you move impossibly closer to him, "I'll show you what I really wanted to do back then." 

"Whatever you wish would be fine with me- Er, wrong choice of words." The breeze drifting through his study is cold enough to form goosebumps, and yet he can't seem to quit burning up. He runs a quick hand through his hair, feeling the heat from his forehead underneath his palm, "Whatever you wish is perfect, I should say. If you want to- or, well, perhaps I could…" 

Gale doesn't get the chance to say anything more. 

He expects you to lean in. Sharply, he takes in a hurried, nervous breath. Uncertain palms hover over the curve of your waist, before settling with the slightest touch. His eyes grow heavy, his head begins to tilt opposite yours. What he doesn't expect is for you to stop, your lips almost pressed to his, but not quite, leaving the distance not yet closed. 

You suspend there, for a moment. Your low breathing tickles his skin. Gale's hand finds your cheek, holding, and nothing more. 

"Are you going to kiss me?" 

There's only a half-second longer of hesitance. He closes the gap, and you fist the front of his shirt to pull him in along with you. Your eyes flutter shut. Fallen stars and glowing warmth shimmer through every inch of you. At last, your lips connect in a quaint, subtle kiss. Smooth, simple, and utterly him. 

Shoulders slumping, your pulse thrums like the unsteady flicker of a candle flame. Your head begins to spin, your heart throbs with fiery longing. This is what you were waiting for. When you burned from the inside-out, wanting nothing more than to forget reason and your lives and his cruel Goddess, you only longed to just kiss him, regardless of the consequences. Everything else melts away: the setting sun, his warmly-lit tower, and your own feet from under you. 

He's hardly done anything, and you're already overwhelmed. To your dismay, the kiss is over almost as soon as it begins. The both of you draw a breath's length apart. Gentle hands give your waist the smallest squeeze. You exhale, and Gale takes in a deeper breath along with you. Kissing him made the rest of the world fall away, or perhaps fall into place, and all you can think of is how desperately you need another. 

Maybe he can read your mind, or maybe he's thinking the exact same thing. Delicately, Gale murmurs against your lips, "Forgive me for being greedy, but… I'm not sure that'll be enough for me. Could I kiss you again?" 

As if he even has to ask. 

With urgency, you're surging forwards, you're kissing him again and he can't manage to think — The only thing running through every inch of him is you. You, kissing him the way he's wanted you to for months upon months. Pressing your lips against his over and over, stealing his breath until he's feeling dizzy, but he doesn't care. You, lovely in a way he's never deserved, with a soul entwined by his own. You told him you love him; he can hardly stand to believe it. 

Lips locked, you twist together, until Gale is guiding you by your waist. Until he's pressing your back against the edge of the nearest surface — his desk — to keep you both stable, while your hands are grabbing at his shoulders for leverage. You let a hand glide up, you tangle your fingers in soft brown hair. You grip and tug, dragging him close, and he sighs, mouth parting, allowing the kiss to turn deep. Enough to mark the point of no return. 

This is everything he's ever wanted, you are the only thing he's ever needed. He could die happy, if this was his end. What a sweet, lovely end it would be. He can't describe how otherworldly it is, to know the desire he's had to kiss you won't die along with him. To know you have plenty of kisses left. 

He could love you like this until the true end of the world. He's tempted actually, to slow down time, and savor you for as long as you will allow. You were well worth dying for, but you are priceless to live for. You and your touch, your love. Love — Gods, none of this will feel real, no matter how many times he reminds himself. 

When his tongue slides against yours, a slow, apprehensive show of tenderness, you feel a shiver careen down your spine. He hears your breath get caught in your lungs, feels you tug him closer and arch into his touch once a palm drifts to the small of your back. 

This kiss hopes to pour his devotion into you, so that you might understand. You'll know love, know the things he's always wanted to tell you, as familiar as you know yourself. He'll make sure this moment won't be forgotten. 

You reach behind you, gripping the edge of the desk when his body presses into yours. Your mind is a mess, reeling so fast you might go woozy; another smooth kiss makes you pull him in further, ushering from him a meager gasp in surprise. You're lost, losing control. The both of you are trapped in a dance of vying for more, pressing closer, kissing harder. His knee slots between your legs — unintended encouragement, you're sure — and you jolt, your thoughts now occupied with things they really, really shouldn't be. 

The smallest space between you fills with hot breath, as you pull apart just enough to get a word out. "Gale-"

"I've missed you," He murmurs, breathless and hurried, as though he doesn't wish to waste a single second, "I have missed you more than anything." 

He leans close once more, his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and cradle you like you're precious. You kiss again, and any reservations you still have remaining fly away on the breeze, to be swallowed by the depths of the sea. 

You don't want to stop. No, you know where this is leading, and still, you can't stop. You wouldn't dream of it. How long have you wanted to kiss him, wanted to have him to yourself? Wanted for him to lose his composure, and finally show you exactly how he felt? How long have you been waiting for more? 

Since you met him, surely. Since you dragged him from that portal. Since he first shook your hand, and you felt your foolish heart spark to life. Piece by tender piece, you connected in secret. Fought through darkness to emerge onto the dawn, hoped the newfound day might bring you both together. Truly, you've waited too long to let a moment like this go to waste. 

You pull apart for barely a second, you catch your breath while Gale mutters something against your mouth that sounds like your own name — And at once, you're closing the distance again. Your lips continue to learn the shape of each other, bodies shaky, rocking close. When a particularly desperate kiss causes his hips to drive into yours, you're the one left sighing. Your nerves prickle with excitement, your limbs feel weak. And a hardness, his hardness, shoves against you unmistakably, grinding into where you're terribly weak. 

Oh, you won't be stopping now. Not any time soon. 

Gale stiffens immediately, at the same moment you do. He peels himself apart from you so quickly you're left slumping, gasping into open air. You would have stumbled, if it wasn't for his hand on your waist gripping excessively tight, helping to hold you up. Faltering, he slowly lets go. Before he does, you think you can feel a slight tremble in his fingers. 

"Ah, I'm- I'm sorry, genuinely," He stutters, practically panting as he tries to establish composure, a frail waver in his voice. You grip the desk tighter, staggering to your feet. The last traces of sunlight shimmer over his face, his earring, his eyes. Strands of his hair have fallen out of place, and he reaches up to briefly push them backward. 

"You make it far too easy to get carried away." He says, sounding rough and short-winded, "That being said, it would be wise not to take things too far, that was- Well, you are-" 

"That was perfect," You gasp out, cutting him off, or perhaps taking the words right out of his mouth. You bring a hand to his shoulder, an unspoken plea for him not to move away, "You don't have to stop, Gale. Please, don't." 

Gale takes a long, slow breath. Hesitantly, he brings both hands back to rest on your waist — barely touching, his gaze scanning yours for any sign of discomfort. "Are you sure? Positively sure? Maybe it'd help if you, er, clarified, in a way." 

"I'm clarifying that I want you to keep going. You don't have to hesitate, I want this," You retort, speaking softly, squeezing his shoulder in turn. Your eyes flicker over him, up and then down. "I showed you how I felt. It's only fair for you to return the favor, no?" 

"Oh, of course. Fairness is one of the most crucial qualities to hone, in terms of forming a long-lasting bond. So says literature, anyways. But I think I'd prefer to mesh the showing with the telling, if that sounds at all pleasurable to you." 

You're smirking. "As long as your sweet voice isn't the only pleasure in store for me." 

He exhales a small huff, the faintest form of a laugh. A smile crosses his features, and he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, admiring you like you're the prettiest sight this world has to offer. You very well might be. 

His gaze comes to rest on yours: warm, complex, loving. For once, he doesn't speak. He demonstrates. 

A small kiss is pressed to your cheek, innocent yet tender. Then, a kiss to the other side. His kisses travel; one he graces to the corner of your mouth, the next he places on the angle of your jaw. Your head tilts up in obedience, and he trails wet kisses down your neck, making you sigh weakly in response. 

One more kiss is graced to your neck, then your nape, then just above your collarbone. They're weighted, in a way; heavy with an infatuation you can feel beneath his touch, and deep in your bones. His facial hair tickles your skin. His warm breath on your pulse is stifling, and it only begins to thump faster, fully at the mercy of his scattered kisses. 

Meshing the showing, with the telling — It isn't long before he's babbling again. 

"You hold so much of my heart," He mumbles; the words on your neck are a steady vibration. His palm caresses your side, his lips brush over your cheek, and then move to speak against the shell of your ear. The new depth to his voice is delightful. "Falling for you was… effortless. As effortless as one breathes. I have no regrets. Absolutely none." 

The final kiss he places on your ear has shudders running through you. He's painstakingly slow once he starts to pull back, and he shifts just far enough to meet your eyes, your foreheads almost touching. That warm gaze on yours has your heart leaping all over again. 

Strung through his tone is a thread of infatuation, a sweetness on his tongue you find oh-so endearing. 

"You begged to be admired, but that hardly scratches the surface." He squeezes your side for emphasis. "You made me feel as though I meant something. Like I was alive. I'd forgotten how it felt, just as I'd forgotten what it could mean to fight for one's future." He pauses, thinking, reminiscing, "More so, I could say you brought me back to life." 

Your mouth parts, forming the edge of a word. But Gale chooses to interrupt, tugging you in with a palm settled gingerly on your jaw, muddling your mind with a kiss. And you melt. You allow your head to tilt opposite his own, and your arm to snake between your bodies. Your hand presses flat to the center of his chest. He kisses you deeper, his heart thumps. Lingering magic strong enough to sense thrums beneath his robes, his skin. 

"There's a line of poetry I once read," He's mumbling against your lips as he leaves them. His touch slides up slowly, supporting you, holding your back. "As of late, you've made it stick in my mind. Amidst the wealth of stories I've finished, the tales of truth and fiction, when I think of you, this singular line utterly refuses to part from me. And if one moment spent lost in contemplation equates to the faintest drop of rainwater, I've thought of you enough to flood the entirety of Faerûn." 

Your eyes seem heavy. You're smiling, but your head is swirled in a dreamy fog. It's plain unfair to have to decide between hearing more, or asking him to kiss you again. 

You decide on the former. "And what might that line be?" 

Gale brushes your cheek with his thumb, "I do love nothing in the world so well as you." 

He's completely genuine, he sounds so syrupy-sweet you can barely hold back your grin. You breathe a quiet, playful tsk, and you lean back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

In the course of your adventures together, you weren't sure how Gale felt about you. 

It's rather stupid, thinking back on it now. Obviously, you had your suspicions. He was certainly warmer with you, compared to the rest of your allies. Despite knowing you could clearly take care of yourself, he regularly fussed over your safety, to the point of insisting you stick close to him whenever a fight broke out. He'd make a rash excuse, Powerful spells mean nil if you are not in the proper range for me to cover you! — or something like that. You always figured it was an exaggeration. Regardless, you weren't about to turn him down. 

You were attached at the hip for safety's sake, that's all. Your remaining companions never seemed to buy it, nor could they hold their comments about the wizard's clearly defined soft spot. The thoughtful way he spoke to you had to mean more; or so they tried to convince you, anyway. You weren't easily influenced. 

But it didn't matter. Without the courage and the time to ask, you couldn't be sure. You presumed he might like you, not love you. 

This side to Gale is making you reevaluate. You've never seen him so enamored, never thought he'd be this smitten — with you, no less. In his eyes, you're a living beacon of radiance, a miracle meant to be adored. A bright, pale moon to light his way through the darkness, shimmering on jet-black waters. And adore you he will. 

You were wrong, so very wrong. While you were busy falling for him, he was already plummeting harder. 

"That's from a romance, isn't it?" You muse, tilting your head and eyeing him teasingly, "You're reciting romance lines to me?" 

"Not just any romance, mind you. One of the greats. It's charming, very influential. Actually, the story is rather lighthearted- I'd be glad to introduce it to you, I have a feeling you'd enjoy it. But yes, in fact. I am." 

"Somehow, you didn't seem like the romance type. I'm surprised. Pleasantly, though." 

"A fine assumption. For quite some time, stories of a softer nature became subjects I rarely dabbled in." His index finger comes to rest under your chin, and your head is tilted in his direction. "But falling in love causes one to take interest." 

Warmth swells in your veins, untamed. You picture Gale, retreating into his tomes and books when you had a moment of reprieve on the road, struggling to hide his infatuation with you. He'd often read to you, when he was able. His calm voice would narrate biographies and old history novels, until you were trying not to fall asleep. Romances were never a part of it. Perhaps they weren't a part of his personal collection, either. Yet the more you contemplate, the more they seem to suit him. 

Did he read such stories to be reminded of you, to grapple with your absence? You can picture him getting lost in them, memorizing the scenes and the verses, in hopes your own tale might play out more like those novels, and different from what destiny threatened upon you. He yearned for things to be lighter, less somber. In the end, there was no world where you stopped longing for each other. 

"Besides," Gale is continuing in his usual upbeat tone, giving you little time to think as he cups your cheek in his palm, "There's nothing wrong with choosing to be well-versed in everything. Fantasy, poetry, romance. Erotica, perhaps. I'm sure I could recall some more… exciting quotes, if you preferred it?" 

"Please, there's no need," You tease, with the smallest roll of your eyes; although, your heart can't help but patter at the imagery. Gale, reading erotica, of all ridiculous things. "You're sweet. Even now, you're telling me about books. Could you be any more perfect?" 

"Possibly," He confesses. "Where you're concerned, mere perfection is far from good enough." Swallowing the dryness in his throat, his eyes mist over with a saccharine seriousness, "My intentions were always to cherish you, to give you my utmost devotion, and then some. You deserve the world. I only wish I could give it to you." 

"But you are enough for me. More than enough. I was lucky. So lucky, to have been fortunate enough to meet you. I'm not sure where I would be if I hadn't." Your fingertips drum against his shoulders, and gradually, he relaxes at your touch, from your tone. He exhales steadily, nice and slowly. 

"Do you mean it?" 

"Gale, I've never meant anything more. I want you so much. Just the way you are." 

To have crossed paths with one another, to have met you — No, he is the one who must be fortunate beyond compare. 

For a while, he stalls, deciding what to say. Each alternative comes up blank. Your fingers wrap around the neckline of his shirt, then. You feel the embroidered fabric with your thumb, the intricate pattern of swirls. You tug slightly, but Gale — still speechless, oddly enough — doesn't get the hint. 

"Your shirt." When he opens his mouth to reply, you're swiftly interrupting. "Take it off." 

He seems to freeze for a second, thinking. Then, the slightest form of a grin dawns on his face, a look of nervous contentment. He's reaching down to grasp the bottom of his velvet shirt, tugging it over his head. A messy happy trail litters from his stomach to disappear beneath his pants; it catches your attention, but not for long. Gale is pressing his palms to the surface of the desk, on either side of you, caging you in. You drift forward, and the kiss you share is a momentary distraction. 

Effortlessly languid, he kisses you as though you have infinite time, and this is the only way he wishes to spend it. His hand moves to cradle the back of your head, you hold him tight between the soft presses of lips connecting. You exhale in unison once you've both pulled away. 

Foggy breath mixes with your own. It warms your skin as he sighs slightly, leaning forward until his forehead is rested against yours. You watch him visibly swallow. He nervously brings a hand to your waist; just holding, with no intention quite yet. The faintest touch makes you melt, until you feel woven into him, soft beyond repair. 

"Do you have the slightest idea how long I've dreamt of this?" He starts, his voice quiet, shaky, "How much I've thought of you, how badly I've needed you? How long I've sought to… Gods…" 

Your palm grazes his chest, and he trails off into a shuddery sigh — eyes closing, shoulders slumping. Delicate fingertips feel the shape of the Netherese brand engraved in his skin. You trace and retrace the circular indentation. You press your palm flat to his chest, feeling the silent hum of dormant magic, measuring each fluttery beat of his heart. His chest aches, his veins sear with all the heat they can muster. 

That's right. He'd almost begun to forget the effect you have on him. 

You've never been afraid. After learning the truth, you didn't look at him differently. You refused to cast him aside, in the face of his own insistence. A miasma of blinding purple light shone from underneath your palm, pain ripped through him as he relived his self-made tragedy in one single breath — and somehow, you understood. You only pressed your palm closer, expression unwavering, and swore a gracious promise to help. 

You've helped him more than you know. He shouldn't feel this way. So sated. It hardly makes sense, from any perspective. There's many things he failed to do. He has much to learn: about himself, about this damned orb, and still, about you. 

But right now, his heart is a battering ram against the constructed walls of his chest, and your fingertips are traveling up — They're grazing the wretched mark as it twists up his nape, his cheek. Your knuckles brush the tangle of dark lines underneath his eye, you cup his face in your hand. And the orb is quiet. It should be screaming with the rest of him. Instead, it chooses silence. 

Magic works in such strange, indecipherable ways. If someone were to tell him long ago that this is how it could work — as though in your presence, it too, is comforted — he doesn't think any part of him would ever believe them. 

His mistake will forever be a part of him. But so will you. 

Gale finds your hand, and settles his on top of your own. He places a kiss onto the bridge of your nose, his palm slides from your hip until his thumb is edging underneath your top, just barely brushing your bare skin underneath. He hesitates, but a kiss of your own placed onto his jaw has him gasping, poised to pull your shirt over your head in the same way his was discarded. 

"May I?" Gale hums, and you swiftly nod in approval. 

"Yes," You reply, "Please." 

The anticipation that settles in your gut is damn near agonizing. You were expecting him to move carefully, but not this slow. 

Gale continues at an apprehensive pace. He stops to collide his lips with yours, when the edge of your top reaches the center of your stomach. With another smooth kiss, mouths parted, breath ragged, he tugs it higher still. You only break apart to bring your arms over your head, and give him a chance to pull it off the rest of the way. 

A kiss onto your ear, and your chest is tight. His lips trail down your nape, and you're reaching up to grab a hold of his hair, your teeth gritting as you choke back a desperate noise. 

Between sighs, your voice is weak, but you still manage, "How long you've sought to what?" 

Gale mumbles a hm into your nape, he squeezes your waist and brushes his thumb over your skin. You know he's coaxing you to continue, but with his mouth on your neck, peppering kisses that wash over you like waves, it's rather hard to follow through. 

Nonetheless, you grip a fistful of brown hair to give yourself leverage. You force yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. "You were saying something before. How long have you sought to do what, exactly?" 

One last kiss, and Gale is drawing back to meet your eyes. He holds your chin between two of his fingers. There's a glint in the back of his gaze, causing heat to rush over you, your limbs suddenly growing weak. 

"To take you," He admits, "To not just tell you what wondrous things you've made me feel, but to show you." 

You're sure the wild look in his eyes is mirrored in your own. "Then what are you waiting for? Show me." 

Gale smiles. He gestures with a crooked finger, and instructs with a tone that borders on smug, "Make yourself comfortable. If you could do the honor of hopping up on the desk for me, I'd be glad to get started." 

When you press your palms flat to the solid wood, pushing to lift yourself, his hands maneuver under your thighs, and he helps to plop you on top of his messy wooden desk. He makes room for you, pushing stacks of books to the edge, giving you the space you need to scooch back. His brows are furrowed slightly as he's gathering half-opened scrolls to toss on the floor — from nervousness? Concentration? You aren't entirely sure, but you think he lingers somewhere in between. 

Turning back to you, he innocently allows his palms to feel the shape of your bare sides. He smooths them over the curve of your waist, he caresses the faint indentations of the scars your journey and your previous path left. Then, not so innocently, his fingers are toying with the front of your pants. His thumb is rubbing over the button, while his gaze never leaves yours, his collected expression never once wavering. 

Sitting atop Gale's desk is far from luxurious. You're already shifting, doing your best to relax and meet his eyes, but you tense when he gives you a full once-over. You stifle your nerves. By now, you don't care where he has you, as long as he doesn't make you wait for much longer. 

Your impatience must reflect in your reaction. Gale brings his gaze back to yours, and it somehow seems much softer. 

"I thought you couldn't get any more gorgeous," He whispers, his fingertips drawing shapes you can't recognize into your skin, "But before my eyes, you've so effortlessly proved me wrong. What a fool I am." 

"A very loveable fool, at least," You counter, placing your hands on his shoulders as he glides his gentle palm up your side. The breeze still fluttering through his study tickles your skin, intensifying each faint, terribly warm touch. 

"You're too sweet. I doubt you'd be as composed if you knew the true depth to my foolishness. There is a great deal to address. Too much to fit into one short night, I'm sure." Gale's eyes narrow, adoration at the forefront of his expression, "It's arduous to simply try and think around you, you know. Well, unless one finds themselves thinking about you. You're such an unrelenting plague on my every thought- A good plague, I should add, not the, erm. Sickly sort." 

"Right. A good plague," You repeat. "Go on." 

"You are… impossible not to think of," Gale corrects, "My mind was made to study the intricacies of yours. I often found myself lost, absorbed in the fierceness of my adoration for you. Even at times where I perhaps shouldn't." 

Your eyebrow raises. "Is that so?" 

After staring at you blankly for more than a few moments, he awkwardly clears his throat and continues, "I suppose you're waiting for me to explain? If you asked our unlikely band of companions, I'm sure someone would tell you. They certainly remember how immensely I embarrassed myself with my obviousness, at our reunion and when we were still merely surviving together. But you never knew. I assumed you never knew. You failed to notice when I couldn't stop… staring at you, for lack of a better term." 

"I didn't notice that much." Briefly, your lips press into a line. "I had my suspicions, sure, but I wasn't entirely confident you felt… more, for me. More than the friendship we had already. Or maybe I found the reality of it hard to believe." 

"More barely describes it. My heart would begin to pound each and every time I saw you. Damn thing would tear into my chest like it wanted to come free, especially in the moments where we finished another battle victorious, barely making it out with lives and limbs intact. I'd watch you dust your hands. Wipe the mess of dirt, and some unlucky soul's blood from your face. Your jaw set, your eyes darkened. And I could only think of how much I wanted you." 

Apparently, he's not yet out of surprises. For a man who says so much, he picks the strangest times to keep his mouth shut, because you guarantee if you knew that then, you wouldn't have wasted this much time. No, you would've let him have you then and there, amongst the danger and against your judgment. Perhaps that's exactly what he was picturing. 

You swallow, eyeing him softly, curiously. "Were you just thinking? Or did you do something about those thoughts of me?" 

"Do something?" Gale huffs, letting go of you to return to his familiar habit of speaking with his hands, "As you know, those ideas, no matter how thrilling, could never be permitted to happen- They were forced to be kept in here, exclusively to myself. Lest they prove an unnecessary distraction. Many times, I dreamt of what it might be like to admit the truth. What I would say to you, if my feelings were returned. But I could allow these perspectives to haunt only me, and myself alone." 

He averts his eyes in fleeting nervousness. Tentatively, he mumbles, "When you, when those thoughts threatened to swallow me into their waiting jaws, and I couldn't stop thinking- Dwelling on your voice, your touch. Your beauty. I would… Hold on. Oh." 

You watch realization dawn on his face like the sun rising over the horizon. His eyes go wide and his face goes warm, he pushes away any uncertainty by breathing a small, light chuckle. He holds your side once more, and the anxiousness of his tense hand, fingers flexing, contradicts his supposed self-assurance. 

"Naughty." Gale teases, "Correct me if I've somehow veered onto the path of the mistaken, but I do believe I've discerned what it is you're getting at." 

Seems you can't hide your smirk anymore. Leaning back, your gaze locks with his, and the look on your face proves him right without the need for you to speak. Like the tressym who caught the canary, if he could describe it. 

Still, your head tilts, and you murmur, "Judging by your reaction, I doubt you need to be corrected." 

"Quite the risqué mind you have, don't you? And I thought I was the immodest one." His palm glides from your side, down to your waist, to your hip, "Though, I cannot lie, I am thrilled to indulge you. It's quite an… inappropriate matter to admit. But considering where we were already planning on taking this- Yes. I have done what you are thinking of. Shall I elaborate?" 

"I'd love it if you would." 

As you grasp his hand boldly, your fingers brush his. You guide him to the front of your pants again, until he's clutching the button, fiddling with it, feeling the shape while he tries to find his next words. 

"I was always head over heels for you," Gale explains, popping the button before pulling on the zipper, "It would be pointless to claim otherwise. You were far more than a passing fancy, and I knew I could never forget, nor forgo you. You were my sanctum, my love. I worshiped you. And so I defied my Goddess." 

You lift up when Gale begins to slide your pants from your thighs, until they're left in a pile on the hardwood floor. The surface of his desk feels cool against your bare legs. 

"Of course, you already know that much. My point- Which don't fret, we are getting to," He says, a palm nonchalantly finding your thigh. He caresses your skin, and your heart is in your throat, because his fingers are drifting ever-so slightly closer, "Is that I was restless. There's an explanation as to why I would often avoid you, why I'd slip away once dusk became night. I pushed every potent feeling down, as to not affect our mission, nor our companionship. But you- You are enthralling." 

Careful fingertips skate the inside of your thigh. And as you swallow down fragile gasps, he's only continuing, "Once I was alone, I could no longer stifle the longing I felt. Rest hardly reprieved me. I'd only dream of what we did not have the time to say, nor do. I imagined showing you everything I could give to you, the places I could take you, the marvels I wished for you to see. A snap of my fingers, and we could connect in ways you could not even envisage. We would forget our misfortunes. Our deities. Gods, it was worse when I had to watch someone else chat you up. That night, I'd be practically insatiable." 

Your head is whirling. 

His manner of speaking leaves more up to interpretation than you would have liked, but you know him well enough by now to be more than skilled at reading between the lines. And those words of his can only paint the most addictive picture. 

Gale, trying his best to impress you, to make you smile and keep you safe, only to grow a slight bit jealous when you basked in the attention of someone other than him. Gale, slipping away and "going to bed early" the first chance he got. Holing up in his tent, while you had no idea why. Trying to sleep, only to be awakened over and over again by his enticing dreams of you. Your visage overwhelming his mind, the practiced, straight-laced wizard would finally give into his vices. 

With a palm over his mouth, and a hand down his pants, his noises would be muffled as he works his deft hand over his stiff length. He'd close his eyes, silently scolding himself; he's ridiculous, moronic, pathetic. He should be able to stifle his foolish desires, and yet he couldn't stop, his jaw clenched as he visualizes what he wants, needs to do to you — For once, he'd let his hunger for you consume him. 

Perhaps he isn't as principled as you once thought him to be. 

"I- I felt the same way," You stammer, your throat tightening, making it harder to speak. His fingertips move upward to carefully graze your stomach; his gaze stays on yours, yet you're struggling to maintain eye contact. "It was hard not to daydream about you, whenever we had a moment to rest. My focus was… all over the place. I wanted you to myself. Wanted you to do whatever you wished to me." 

"It seems we are one in the same. You could ask anything of me, and I would consider it done." Gale's thumb hooks around your underwear, but freezes there, not yet moving. His volume drops to barely above a whisper; smooth, and intoxicating, "But I did not always think of you in such sentimental terms. With you as… tempting as you are, and with a wealth of unspoken affections between us, my musings would often wander elsewhere." 

A shudder racks your spine. "Elsewhere?" 

Leaning closer, Gale allows his free hand to steady on your waist. 

You've always thought him and yourself to be equal in prowess. You have fought beside him enough to respect his skill, but also to understand his weaknesses. Yet, in this moment, with his voice echoing against the shell of your ear as a low, sultry hum — If this were a fight, you would've already, most certainly lost. 

"Yes, to the comforts we hadn't yet explored. To the way your voice might sound when it strains. I pictured your hands, purely natural when they are joined with mine. Or perhaps your arms, your legs, tightly wrapped around my shoulders, and my back." 

You feel his palm, caressing your side in slow, simple circles. Your eyelids flutter, your body tremors in the wake of a pleasurable tide. Through his tone, you can practically hear the smile on his lips, "I'm sure you get the idea. I confess, I was not as grounded around you as I may have appeared to be. For saving-the-world's sake, my focus could not wane. Yet, my foolish heart only wanted to hear how you might plead to be given every last inch of me- And I would entrust it all to you. My mind, my body. My soul, if you had any use for it." 

His words have you so distracted, you almost fail to notice he currently has your underwear half-way down your thighs. 

Your gaze meets his. Something you can't read reflected in the back of his eyes, he gazes at you silently, but questioningly. As if he's waiting for your word to continue. Sighing, you force yourself to relax. You ignore the budding warmth that gnaws at your core. You shift, before you lift once more, and with a sly grin, he takes the hint to pull the garment off the rest of the way. 

"I might," You reply, shivering when his palm returns to your thigh, allowing your legs to part slightly when his touch begins to drift, "Maybe I'm a devil in disguise." 

"The sweetest devil in all of the Hells," Gale purrs. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, and his fingers gravitate away; dizzy, your breath hitches. You can't figure out if he's teasing you on purpose, but whatever the bastard is trying, he's certainly succeeding. You tense from your shoulders to your legs, only for his lips on your nape to make you crumble again. 

"Gale-" 

He kisses the column of your neck, and your grip tightens on the desk's edge, nails practically digging into the wooden surface. Gale's fingertips achingly draw circles on the inside of your thigh, his touch coaxing them further apart. Your lungs are overwhelmed. By the lack of air, by the scent of dusk, and his books, and him. 

"Please," You plead; the sound is a sweet melody to his ears, "Touch me." 

You're more than enthralling — You are simply irresistible. 

Gale sighs, and as the held breath leaves him, he swears he feels the center of his chest thrum with such staggering tenderness. 

"You very well may be my demise." 

Bracing a hand on your waist, he hesitates. His brows pinch slightly. His palm feels clammy, almost, and you can feel the heat like untamed fire, radiating from his skin, shining through every pore. Cast upon him is a sheet of silken, fading light. You breathe, in and then out. How can he be so damn handsome? 

"It's been a while since I have done anything of this sort. I do not wish to overstep." Gale brings his fingers to rest underneath your chin — index and middle, tilting your head ever-so gently towards him. "You'll tell me if it gets to be too much? If I ever do something that you have, erm. A less than savory reaction towards?" 

"Of course," You reply simply, but the simplest of words are all he needs to be put at ease. "Do as you like. I trust you." 

And so, he does. His eyes soften, they remind you of dripping, warm honey. Yet, the palm that begins to glide over your chest, softly caressing, is somehow even warmer. 

You're nearly nose to nose, as Gale touches every curve and dip from your chest to your collarbones, admiring the lovely details. It's tender — analytical, in a way — as though he's studying exactly what forms your shape, so he may never forget. The sound of his breathing, along with your own echoes faintly in your ears. You feel revered, like the statue of some sacred God; and from study or by memory, he will learn to sculpt you. 

"Beautiful," Gale murmurs quietly, "You are made of splendor and stardust." 

Your heart intends to deny those words. You once thought differently, you believed ruin and rot were all to compose you. But if he presumes otherwise, if Gale is the one to insist you're so much greater, there isn't a single part of you left to challenge him. You are beautiful. 

At once, your veins buzz, exhilaration rippling through your system at his voice, his touch. His fingertips trail the length of your shoulder. They teasingly trace downward, only to move back up again, despite the twitch of your thighs and the purse of your lips. 

"That night," He breathes, his hand studying the column of your throat, the curve of your jaw, "Where I created the sky for you, I came right to the precipice of confessing. You were beautiful then. As you always are. I felt this… fondness, dwell within me while I looked at you. I wondered if your lips were as plush as they looked. Gods, I wanted to kiss you. Our enemies should have tore a page from your book. You know better than anyone how to reduce a former chosen to such weakness." 

Those addictive fingertips reach back, tracing up your spine, causing your whole body to tingle. From the smallest of touches, from his touch, you're rife with anticipation. You've wanted and waited so much and so long to feel this. Gale's other hand tightens on your side, reassuring while holding you still, and you wouldn't be surprised if he could tell. If he knew what he was doing to you. 

He's missed you, loved you, with every fiber of his doomed being. Now, fondness is more than within him; it's engulfing him whole. 

He swallows thickly. "It would have been delightful to pull you close. To cast aside my misgivings, and instead have you right then and there. Underneath the shimmering lights, while whispering blades of grass tickled our skin. The sight of you laid out underneath me would have been more exquisite than any flourish I am capable of creating, I'm sure. Or, the sight of you above, perhaps? I didn't mind either which way." 

"Gale." 

You mumble his name, in some cross between a hiss, a pout, and a plea. He catches your eyes with a smile. 

More than you might think, he has you figured out. The look you give him whenever he speaks: warm and soft-eyed, breath hitched, expression blissfully entranced. You've mentioned your not-so subtle weakness for his voice before. You love hearing him talk like this, don't you? 

"You're sweet, but sometimes-" You choke on a gasp, shuddering once his hand is roaming down, down. This time, brushing your stomach, your hip, your thigh. "Sometimes, I really just want you to kiss me." 

Perhaps you could listen to him forever, but he's no fool. Any request of yours he'd be happy to oblige. Especially this one. 

"Come here, then," He says, already closing the distance, "You merely have to ask." 

A hand holding your jaw, Gale pulls you in, his head tilting until you collide in a soft mess of lips and tongue. He blindly finds your thigh, gently pushing them apart; he squeezes your plush flesh, before he kisses you harder. 

Together, when you both pull apart to breathe, he meets your gaze: a question, and permission. You don't look away. Your gasps grow sharper as his touch moves closer, your nerves strung tight, your bottom lip drawn between your teeth. 

The ends of his fingers brush your slick, waiting entrance, and you whine. 

"Oh, you're… Wow," Gale sighs out. You swear with the way he sounds, he's practically in disbelief. He drags the digits up, getting them drenched and filthy in your mess of arousal, his fingertips applying slight pressure when they reach your swollen clit. You tense, swallowing down a whimper. His fingers glisten in the dying light, you watch him very obviously glance down once he drags them away. Pulling them apart, he admires the string of glossy slickness that clings in between them. 

"And I've barely just begun." He looks back to you, breathing the slightest huff, "I knew you- Well, I thought you felt strongly about me. As strongly as I feel about you. If I knew I was capable of doing this to you, of compelling you to be this… desperate, I would have divulged how I felt a great deal sooner." 

Like he's one to talk. Your affections go both ways — He made that clear when he was a stiff mess in his pants, just from you kissing him. 

Your chest heaves with your gasps, but only heaves harder once his touch leaves. His knuckles tense, his hand hovering inches away from you, and he looks over your face with brief apprehension. Right now, you can't have any of it. 

"What do you need?" Gale asks, tone smooth, low. 

"Your… Your fingers-" 

"And you need them where, to be exact? They are capable of bringing a great number of things into fruition. To have them inside of you, filling you- Is that what you're after?"

"Yes," Your voice wobbles to the edge of cracking, and you follow along, forcing yourself to get more specific, "Need them inside. Please, don't make me wait." 

He's never heard you beg before. Never thought you could get so needy, so flushed. For him, you're begging for him. 

During the path of your previous journey, your polite requests of him here and there were more than enough to get him ecstatic. This, though? He thinks he might crave to hear you plead your lovely desires for the rest of his existence. 

The same hand you've watched cast spells drifts back to you, between your legs. Gale's fingers, dexterous as they handle a fragile flicker of light in between them, masterful as they form the shape for another incantation. Delicately holding a thin quill pen, turning the pages of a worn book, crooking up to summon a hidden tome, or a detailed projection — His fingers begin to ease inside you, and all you can do is bite your tongue, and grip the edge of his desk like your life depends on it. 

They feel thicker than they look. You weren't expecting to be so full, even when they aren't entirely in, nor were you thinking he'd go this slowly. With how soaked you are, with how much you've needed him, you know his fingers — ring, and middle — would press inside you so simply, if that's what he was aiming for. They'd slide all the way in, fill you down to his knuckles, until your needy cunt is fluttering around him; you're filthy, and yet, despite the thoughts you have bouncing around in your brain, you hardly feel an ounce of shame. 

Instead though, different from what you were imagining, he takes his time. He savors this, savors you, delighting in your pretty expression, and the delicious moan you let go of as his fingers fill you just half-way. Half-way, not sinking fully in. The damn wizard is teasing you. He's dragging both digits out before they've truly given you what you wanted, leaving you disappointed once they slip away. 

As a small mercy, his fingertips move to circle your clit with the faintest touch. Right then, the entirety of you burns red-hot, impossibly sensitive. It's so much, and not enough at the same time. If he doesn't continue, you think you might cry. 

"I was intending to take things patiently, but I am more than willing to compromise," Gale suddenly murmurs, out of breath, his gasps betraying the levelness he tries to keep to his words. Clearly, this is affecting him just as much as it may be affecting you. His free hand tenses on your waist, and he drawls, "Tell me if it becomes too much. Or if you're in need of more." 

Like clockwork, you don't even wait for him to take another breath in. "More, Gale." 

He chuckles. Actually chuckles, in spite of any nervousness — and when the sound alone makes you shiver, a soft gasp in pleasure leaving your lips, you know you're absolutely done for. 

"Eager little thing." There's enough adoration in his words to devour and get drunk off of, "No matter, I'd already planned to give you everything." 

Your hand on the desk's edge clenches, and as though he knows without the need to see, Gale moves to place his palm over yours. His touch brushes your knuckles, his hand is effortlessly warm. His fingertips press to your waiting entrance; you breathe a sigh of approval, before he's working to slide them back inside you. 

They ease into your warm cunt deeper, nice and easy. As far as they'll go, until you're sufficiently full, with his palm lightly pressing against your pelvis, his knuckles barely grazing you. Gale's expression turns soft, washed over in utter lust. He mumbles the slightest swear under his breath that you almost don't catch, paired with a tender, low, That's it. 

And fuck, you're already struggling to handle this, but to hear him praise you? 

When he'd do so before, you were affected quite the same. He'd give you an earnest Excellent job! whenever you cracked another lock, or a Well done, when you downed a rather difficult foe. It was impossible not to dwell on his words, as ridiculous as you often felt. He would affectionately pat your shoulder, or place a hand on the small of your back when he was especially proud of you. You'd feel a chill run up your spine, just from that. A particularly shameful chill. 

Now though, like this? When his voice is a whole octave lower, and noticeably sultrier; when he's got two of his fingers nestled deep inside you, and his pretty gaze on yours, hair out of place as it gets stuck to his sweaty forehead — Gods help you, if he decides to say anything more. Knowing him, he will. 

He's still smiling while he stares at you, a look that speaks in pure adoration. And no matter how overwhelming, no matter the shivers that surge through your veins at the thought, or the intense pounding of your heart, you want him to speak. He's fucking right, his voice is your weakness. You want to hear all he's longed to tell you, no details spared. 

He's lucky you haven't melted into a puddle by now. Your limbs are weak, you feel like you might have. His poor scrolls. There's no doubt you're making a mess, but puddle-you would have left his desk and its important contents in shambles. 

Gale languidly pumps his fingers into you, in and then out, and your teeth grit at the sloppy noise they create. The pace he sets is slow, true to his earlier word. Ecstasy buds in your core at every draw back, and firm press in. Yet, the devotion, the listlessness to it — You're put on a pedestal right between needing less, and wanting more. It's perfectly agonizing. 

It isn't enough, you need just a sliver more of what he's not providing. But his slow, meticulous movement has you reeling. His thick fingers fuck you methodically, working you up to right where he wants you, and not an inch more. It feels like you might shatter in his arms, his hands, and he would be the one to put you back together. 

"Please," You're murmuring, your back arching, your eyes deep and hazy, utterly enchanting, "I need you- need you not to stop, fucking please." 

You make his focus shift in a mere instant. Holding onto you tighter, his fingers curl on the next press in, nudging oh-so perfectly against where you're oh-so sensitive. You're a mess, but he loves it; he relishes in admiring this lovely, desperate side to you. You practically cry out, your body tensing beneath his touch, your eyes screwing shut. And Gale, ever attentive, perpetually ambitious, crooks his dexterous fingers inside you again in a draw for more, until you're a gasping, trembling mess.

"You sound wonderful. Just perfect. Believe me, I want to stop as much as you may want to. Which, with regards to your greedy form of begging, would surely be not at all," Gale whispers, in a delicate hum. His words fill your head like clouds. "I have waited too long for this. I have wanted you far too greatly to stop now, and I do not plan to." 

You have his fingers soaked, his palm and his wrist filthy, practically dripping with your messy arousal. Between stifled whines and struggles for air, you utter his name. He falters for a moment. Ignoring his slacks growing tight and uncomfortable around him, he takes in an overly controlled breath. 

"Don't try to silence yourself," He says, "I want to hear everything." 

Your thighs quiver. They threaten to close around his arm, while precise fingers bully your sweet spot; you couldn't hold your moans for him back, not even if you were trying to. 

You toss your head back with a whine, loud and unabashed, and Gale offers your hand a gentle squeeze. His breathing is sharp, loud enough to hear, to feel as a fan of warmth against your chest and neck. The heat between you builds to something unbearable. Each thrust of his fingers is relentless: they draw gasps from you that echo in the walls of his study, your lungs aching raw. You are wet and warm and impossibly soft around both digits, you'll feel much softer and wetter around him. And you're simply stunning, from the top of your head, to the ends of your toes. Gorgeous, in a way he'll try his damndest to deserve. 

To hold you until the stars give out, to never have to let you go would be a dream made real. 

Engrossed in giving you what you need, he admires the softness present on your features when you prop yourself back up. Your chest heaves, your bottom lip trembling. He's been so focused on you, he hardly notices you've already shifted. 

You reach forward, your arm is shaky, faint gasps still slipping past your lips as his fingers massage that addictive spot deep within you. Your palm presses to his chest. Only then does he realize how quick his heart's been beating, and how strongly you've been affecting him. 

If you were a drug, or a form of charming magic perhaps, you'd be the most potent there is. Your hand glides down, gaze stuck on his — gazes locked on each other — and he lets you. He lets you move your palm down to a near dangerous degree; he shifts forward and closer, in fact, to simplify your reach. 

Impulsive, you allow your palm to travel between his legs before you've given it a second thought. You feel the firm outline of his cock, shamelessly tenting his pants, and Gale's brows pinch. He shudders, sighing softly, but he doesn't hold back from leaning into your touch. A small movement has his clothed length grinding against your palm; pure, exquisite friction. Fortunately, swarmed by your own desperations, you are wasting no time giving him more. 

For the first time since he began, or maybe for the first time ever, Gale's resolve crumbles. Your hand slips into his pants, wrapping around his hard, silky length, and he groans, the sound sweet enough to incite a heady pulse between your legs. He braces his free hand on the desk to keep steady, and his pace turns frantic as his head dips, strands of hair in his face, his fingers clumsily pistoning into you. 

He's warm in your palm, slick with dripping precum that dirties the smooth fabric of his briefs; so distinctly heavy, you start to feel dizzy, overwhelmed by a rush of blood to your head. 

"Shit," Gale swears under his breath when you grip him, then pump him, his eyelids heavy like he's woozy. Your reaction is immediate and visceral, pleasure blazing in your core, your chest heaving with quickened whines. 

His jaw clenches instinctually, your palm hurriedly swiping over his sensitive, weeping tip. It sends flurries of pleasure over him, and makes every touch much slicker, much wetter. The damp squelch made by the twists of your hand is nearly as filthy as the echo of his fingers plunging into you. 

He chokes on a moan, and he hurriedly murmurs, "Your touch is… It is unlike anything I have ever felt before, it's- oh- indescribable…" 

You're panting, your hand slowing down, the fragility and newfound pitch to his voice pooling heat in your gut, "Should I stop?" 

"No, for the love of every God still left watching over us," Gale reaches up, shakily tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingertips brush your skin with potent electricity, before he sets his palm back down on the desk, close enough to have your thumbs touch. "Absolutely do not stop." 

There's conviction in his voice; it makes your heart pound, and subsequently tremble. 

The way you stroke him is messy and quick, frantic to make up for the lack of space the confines of his slacks provide. Your brain is scrambled from his voice, his fingers: easing inside you, and then crooking, punching whines from you each time they perfectly nudge your sweet spot. You feel known, loved, as he studies what you need — to give it to you here, and countless times over. 

Between your sins and his, the room is drowned in the echoes of gasps, whines. In wet noises that sound disgustingly lewd when they reach your ears, sending sparks twisting up your back. Gale falls forward, his forehead rests softly against yours. He finds the curve of your waist, gripping you tight; a touch that brands, that makes you pliable. His warm hand on your bare skin is a wave of molten comfort, washing deep into your bones. 

"Back then," You mumble breathlessly, beginning a tangent of your own, "I wanted so badly to tell you how I felt. I w-wanted, needed you, I would have given up anything to be close to you. I thought of… of trying to stay quiet in your little tent, trying to make sure no-one else would hear us. You'd whisper in my ear that we have to be quiet, and cover my mouth with your palm while you rocked into me…" 

Gale stutters. He throbs, underneath your touch, and lets go of a long, shaking breath. He rolls his hips into your grip just barely, chasing another ray of pleasure. 

"Even a rudimentary spell could've… hah, solved that problem easily," He grits out, the bridge of his nose in a focused knot, "But I'm glad we weren't so hasty. This moment we have now, it is kept solely to ourselves. If we-" A groan, a sigh, "Had to account for unnecessary company, I would never have known how lovely you sound when you're pleading my name."  

"Fuck- Gale…" 

You moan in unison, syncing your breathing and the skip of your heartbeats. In the midst of your own pulse in your ears — your head swirling, drunk on him — you are freeing his cock from his slacks, making him inhale a hiss as the room's cold air hits his length. Your palm strokes all of him, from base to head: tenderly, slowly, agonizingly. He trembles, and his thumb brushes your clit while his fingers stay sheathed inside. Desire takes over what remains of you, as though his touch itself is made from magic. 

"I wanted to- I-" It's difficult to talk now; his thumb rubs slow circles onto your sensitive clit, and tension grips you tight, taut as deep in your core as his fingers reach. "I wanted to kiss you, feel you, taste you. Sometimes, I wished we could just forget everything and- Oh, Gods, I needed you, Gale. I knew I was foolish and greedy, but I couldn't lose you. I didn't want anything to ever happen to you, I love you. Just you, just as you are." 

Just as you are. 

More than anything he's once known, stronger than everything he's ever felt, those words send him spiraling into a hopeless, tender oblivion. 

You won't have to fear losing him. Not ever again. 

Despite the slight parting of his lips, he can't say anything more; he can only exhale in warm, heady pleasure, and sway forward to collapse into you. Your palm, working over his cock with soft, steady strokes, has him hurtling close to the edge with no reprieve in sight. His forehead leans into the curve of your nape, breath hot on your skin, and he can barely manage to think, let alone control the unsteady pace of his fingers; fucking into you desperately and clumsily, sending pleasure spiraling through your system. 

But your voice — Chiming in his ears, echoing with the earnestness of bells, you bring every devoted component of his attention right back to you. 

"Please," You beg, your tone quiet, on the verge of shattering like glass. Gale moves his palm to hold the small of your back as a slight comforting gesture, a silent reminder that he has you, and you feel the petals of your heart unfurl, and unwind. 

"I'm right there," You're gasping, "I'm- ah, please…" 

He can't contain himself, sweat beading at his chest and forehead as he sloppily thrusts into your now-loose grip. Every slow, choppy buck of his hips leaves him more overwhelmed. You have your head tipped back, as you jerk him off hurriedly, choking on your own moans. Euphoric flames lap at your gut, your limbs — Gale peppers your nape in haphazard kisses, and all it takes is one more touch, three more words. 

"I love you," His murmur rolls in vibrations against your kiss-sensitive nape; you melt, your back slumps. There's an intensity to his tone, a thickness to his accent and a slur between the syllables. You nearly drown him out with your own chants of his name. 

"My sweetheart," He falters, "My love- You feel perfect, and I- I'm so close- I've got you, let go, let go with me-" 

You flutter around his fingers, and he stammers with words left unsaid, murmuring faint recitations of your name as you both reach the crescendo. Frantic jerks of your palm and feverish swipes of his thumb on your clit, his touch palpable with so much love you can practically feel it — and you're slamming over the edge together. 

Gale's breathing comes from weary, bruised lungs. You feel him twitch, then pulse, and messes of moans and gasps resound onto your neck as he spills into your hand. The mess drips over your palm, coating your fingers. Your heart pounds against your chest like a drum, and the pleasant disaster of your release washes over your body — making you tense and cry out, your legs quivering as you cum for him — before setting you down, shakily and slowly. 

You can hardly think by the end of it. The aftershocks that grip you are unlike anything you've ever felt before. Finding your high while thinking of him pales in comparison to cumming for him, on his fingers. 

Neither you, nor him can speak. When Gale finally pulls apart from you, dragging his fingers from your warmth and stumbling to his feet, what makes up your tangled thoughts is still very much fuzzy. You're both panting hard; him, more than you are, perhaps. Your thighs are tense and sore, you have to force them to relax to ease some of the strain. 

Through heavy eyelids, you watch him run a palm over his face. He massages his temple, and lets go of a deep, weighted breath. The way he looks at you then, gaze settled on yours, could be enough to entrance you, all on its own. 

"Beautiful." He hums simply. His voice is still rough at the edges, quiet and strained. You aren't sure if it's a description, or a term of endearment; maybe both, you figure, so you can enjoy a taste of each. 

He reaches up to hold your jaw, his touch ever soft. You're lost for a moment. You catch your breath along with him, and feel what remains of the world around you fade away. 

"I believe I was meant to love you," He says, so earnest, his faith itself makes you shake. "You are an irrevocable destiny. My destiny." 

You offer him a smile that roots into him from the inside-out. And when he drifts forwards to kiss you at last, pulled in your direction like a fish on a line — Your lips press to his, and in his chest, arises a glow. 

This shared kiss is long, deep, and effortless. It is a waltz you both know how to follow, and yet, you lose your footing just the same. He pulls you close with an arm around your back, and you curl into his familiar touch. In turn, you clutch him tighter, kiss him harder, with your palm on his shoulder and a hand tangled in messy locks of brown hair. 

You both breathe a sigh once you've slowly pulled apart. Gale holds your chin, and speaks softly, the words akin to a secret prayer. 

"I am yours. Now, and for the eternities of lifetimes that might await us after this one." His expression deepens, and his thumb brushes your lips, carefully but simply, "I truly do love you." 

I love you. Those words still feel as soft as they are strange. They're all you've ever wanted though, natural on the tongue, despite how unrelentingly they shake you. 

Perhaps you really were meant for this, just as he believes. In this life, and in the lifetimes to follow, you will find and embrace one another. 

Standing up straight, he stretches, fixing his slacks before rolling his shoulders back. Your gaze flickers over his shape, and then down. Tenderness makes way to bristles of embarrassment, and it's hard to continue biting your tongue. Between the both of you, you've made quite the mess. Reminders of what transpired hit you like a bucket of bricks. Your heartbeat particularly spikes at the droplets of milky white that dirty the desk's smooth surface, and the flesh of your thighs. 

Gale seems to notice your staring. 

"Apologies," He clears his throat so loud the sound practically bounces around the room. His tone carries a weight of lightheartedness, and you can't explain how nice it is to hear. It lightens the load on your own shoulders, in some way. "I did not suspect I was… so pent-up. Are you alright?" 

"I'm alright," You resound, inhaling slowly, and feeling the buzz in your chest begin to settle as a result. "I feel great, honestly. How about you? Tired yet?" 

"Oh, I am anything but. Feels like I pissed off some impudent mage, and as punishment they set my nerves aflame," Gale shakes out his sweaty palms, then idly flexes his fingers, "Not any sort of punishment I've ever heard of, but I would certainly commend their creativity. It will take more than that to tire me out, I assure you. Unless you, yourself are tired, of course. In which case, I would be glad to assist in your relaxation." 

"Thank you, but there's no need. I'm not tired yet either." You shuffle closer so you can wrap your arms around him, and your hand promptly tangles in his hair, while the other brushes the back of his neck, fingertips tracing down to the space between his shoulder blades. You swear you feel him shiver. "C'mere. I haven't had near enough of you." 

"Is that so?" Gale smiles. He closes the fraction of distance between you, and steadies a hand on your jaw. "I'm pleased to say the feeling is mutual." 

This time, the kiss he plants to your lips reminds you of falling. Falling, with no worry of hitting the ground. Just infinitely drifting through a cloudless sky, while you helplessly listen to the race of your pulse in your eardrums. And as quickly as he sends you careening towards the earth, he's grounding you, with a kiss to your throat that sets your senses alight. 

His lips hover there for longer than they need to, breathing warmth onto your neck, until you reward his efforts with the sweetest of sighs. Then, his mouth trails kisses from your collarbone to your shoulder. His hand holds your side when you sway, helping to keep you steady. 

It's as though your soul is helplessly detached from your own body. The growing shadows in his quaint study envelop your vision, and cradle you in their looming embrace. You imagine the pale moon, the shimmering stars, soon to bathe you in their faint light. But for now, it's just the two of you, pleasantly alone, in the center of his universe. Truthfully, your soul is bound to him. Gale's hands, and beating heart. 

Warmly, he mutters against your shoulder, a squeeze of your side blended with slightly muffled words, "Are you comfortable?" 

"Mhmm," You nod, and you tilt your head opposite as he moves to press kisses to the other side of your nape, "We can move- If that's what you want." 

"What I want is to have you wherever it is you prefer." Placing a final small kiss to the side of your neck, he then pulls back, meeting your pretty gaze with an expression that sparkles. "My bedroom is always an option. Traditional, yes, but surely comfortable. Continuing here would be most pleasant as well. Most exciting. The choice is left up to you, although," He breathes a slight laugh, "I suppose I may picture this the next few times I am sitting here working. Might pose a slight problem to my future productivity." 

You huff, half-rolling your eyes. You playfully squeeze his shoulders, teasing palms caressing his warm skin, "In that case, I want you nowhere else but here." 

Gale smirks, his expression enveloped in unmistakable tenderness, but this time, he holds his tongue. He grasps your wrists, and when your palms follow his lead to slip from his shoulders, he is taking your hands into his. He's shifting, kneeling, sinking down in front of you until your heart is left a shaken and stuck mess inside your throat. 

"Look at me." 

Oh. You didn't notice you were starting to glance away, avoiding his eyes while you attempt to ignore the warmth burning over your face. You tear one of your hands away from his to grip the edge of the desk, steadying yourself. Hesitantly, your gaze flickers back to his own — just in time to watch Gale press a kiss to your knuckles. 

He looks at you as though you are devastation, devotion, in the softest, mortal form. Twilight shimmers in the details of his silhouette: the features of his face, the silver in his hair, and his shiny, metal earring. You once thought the symbol hanging from his ear to be some solemn, self-imposed reminder. Instead, you've grown to realize it is spite, pure and fierce. Because after everything, he is still tenderly, maddeningly alive. 

"You will not lose me, not ever, not for a moment," He says gently, squeezing your hand, resoluteness in the back of his gaze. "I promise you. I want for nothing, when you are at my side. Nothing but the privilege of seeing you smile, which I will try my very hardest to earn. No matter what we may face, perils or strife, anything that is left to try and stand in our way, we will brave it- We will defy it. And we will do so together. Just as we once did." 

Gale allows his thumb to brush over your knuckles before he lets your hand go. You eye him silently, awestricken, your chest tight and your mouth useless. Perhaps it is your silence that prompts him to gaze at you smugly, place his palms on your thighs, and shift closer until his head is inches away from dipping between your legs. 

"Now, let me have you." Voice low, he breathes the words loud enough for only you to hear, "Let me cherish you, as I have always longed to, and as you have always deserved." 

So foolish. He does have you, he has held every part of you from the moment you and him collided. 

You take a breath, deep and slow. "Then have me." 

Reaching forward, you knot a hand in his hair as encouragement. Gale holds your waist, smirking slightly, and he waits, lingering, or perhaps teasing you. When your fingers tighten on his hair and you let go of a quickened, impatient huff, the desperate look on your face causing his heart to skip, only then does he finally move. He leans close, pressing a kiss to your stomach that brims with tingling electricity. 

"Gale-" And you sigh, you melt, "I love you, I love you so much-" 

His brows knot, softness in his expression, and he begins to adore your skin with his lips. He plants messy kisses from your navel, down. When he moves from your hips to your legs, tenderness turns to hunger. His kisses are warmer, blessed onto your inner thighs as he leaves faint bites, along with soft brushes of the tongue; not enough to mark, just enough to feel. Enough to make you tremble at the subtle nip of teeth, and shake from the heat of his steady breaths on your skin. 

Both palms find your thighs to gently coax them apart. Nervousness prickles up your spine, heightened by the warmth in your gut, and by the heaviness in Gale's eyes as he looks up at you. But when he leans close, at the first swipe of his tongue over your waiting cunt — Everything melts away to nothing but sharp, pure pleasure. 

Your fingers grip his hair so tight you think you might yank some strands out. You're panting, and he isn't stopping; each little lap of his tongue makes you shake, already a whining mess, echoing the sweetest noises for him. You only make him want to hear more. 

He wants you crying happy tears for him, wants you to forget your hardships as you fall to pieces on his mouth; but for now, he'll have patience. Slight, teasing flicks of his tongue are enough to start with. Judging by the intensity of your grip on his hair, and the way your chest heaves from the force of loud, labored breathing, he isn't sure you can handle much more, despite how terribly you make him want to give it to you. You deserve all you could ever need. 

You deserve to be happy, safe, loved. He won't let you be marked by more scars. You're precious to him, more precious than anything he has once held, and simultaneously, you are damn near impossible to resist. 

From between both your thighs, he can't tear his gaze away from you above him: your pretty face, consumed by ecstasy and impatience. You, on the other hand, can barely take the way he looks at you with such tenderness, and yet, confidence. Like he knows exactly what he's doing to you. 

Gale swipes the flat length of his tongue over your entrance, then flicks the tip against your clit, and the moan you let fall from your lips captivates the entirety of his muddled mind. He huffs something of a laugh, and pulls back to give you a small chance to breathe. 

"Remarkably sweet, and ravishingly sensitive." The sultry hum to his tone settles a decadent sensation between your ribs: pleasure, and an encompassing anticipation. His lips are already wet and glistening. "You were just meant to be devoured." 

Your heart shudders, and your breath hitches. Gale grips you by your sides, his gentle touch smoothing over your skin. His hair in his face is a mess you've made. You shakily push the strands back, and as your fingers brush close to his scalp, the only signs he's affected are the shuddery inhale he takes, and the devotion that shines in the back of his pupils. 

"Spread your legs apart a little further, for me," He mumbles. When you oblige, he hums the smallest form of praise, the faintest, Very good. Then, his mouth is giving you no room for respite. 

You whimper, watching his honeyed gaze on yours go soft, before his eyes flutter shut. His hands on your sides grip you tighter, and with swipes of his tongue, he thoroughly tastes your entrance. He was right; you are sensitive. Especially when he buries his face in your cunt, every sickeningly slow lap of his tongue feeling charged, ripe with exhilarating arousal. 

When you tense, panting harder with a swallow, he squeezes your side, and he stops. He huffs in short breaths centimeters away from you. Your shoulders slowly go slack. You press both hands to the edge of the desk and hold on tight, trying to remain steady. He only dives in again once your sighs have settled, and this time, he's licking, then sucking. The sound is sloppy, terribly lewd, as he presses his lips to you and sucks softly on your clit. Infatuation surges through your veins so fast, you begin to feel yourself go numb. 

He licks a steady stripe, groaning quietly. His facial hair scratches the inside of your thighs with such bitter sweetness. He's moving one palm down to your thigh, caressing before lifting. Your leg settles comfortably onto his shoulder, and he's pressing closer, he's ever-so carefully easing his tongue inside you. It's warm, meticulous; the attention there, the sensation of being so barely filled, stretched around the end of his tongue — It makes your head spin with ferocity. 

Those sensations melt to expectancy, to a dwindling heat as he draws back; for only a moment, thankfully. He swallows, his words muffled when he mutters against your eager cunt, "You taste divine." 

On his tongue, he's sure you're the sweetest thing he's ever known. Saccharine like the stars, akin to the smooth velvet wine he remembers sampling in Calimshan. But perhaps, it's even sweeter to have you like this, to know he's the only one who can do this to you. Your limbs are trembling for him. It's his tongue you're a mess on, his voice and his touch to make you this way. 

He should never have doubted himself. If he could rewind the clock just once, it wouldn't be to change past wrongs, nor would it be to rid his chest from the orb, or abandon it entirely. He would have gone without meeting you then, still just a reckless wizard in the cold palm of his Goddesses hand. 

Rather, he would go back and tell you how he felt, he'd tell you everything — He'd have you accompany him to Waterdeep well before his proposition at your reunion, and he wouldn't have held back the words on his tongue. He doesn't want to leave you, he loves you; he'd watch your expression change, your hands squeezing his when he grabs them tight. And he knows he would kiss you right then, in the same way he already has. 

I've fallen for you he was waiting to whisper, when this universe seemed to contain just the two of you. He wanted to kiss you so softly when you smiled at him during your late-night talks, closing the inches of distance between you to feel your smile on his lips instead. He'd kiss you so desperately when you found yourselves on the edge of death, both hands cupping your cheeks, thumbs smearing blood onto your skin, because even then, all he could fathom was how deeply he adored you. 

As long as he kept you safe, he didn't need more. He no longer wished for godhood. He could greet the end with no regret — but to have lived, to be able to persist in this life at your side means the world itself to him. 

It will take a long while to make up for lost time. Though maybe, he can start here. His mouth can do more than recite poems and confessions. Much more. 

In demonstration, Gale leans into you. He relishes in the way you shake under his hold, once the practiced end of his tongue flicks against your swollen clit. He has to hold you steady, gripping tight while he kisses your clit, your thighs, and then devours you with sloppy kisses to your cunt: open-mouthed, a mess of soft sucks and rich groans into you. His lips brush every sensitive inch, shaping you as you dissolve to pliancy, like soft clay in his careful hands. 

"Feels good-" You try to mumble, biting the words; you've never felt anything this addicting. Your voice carries a noticeable shake, one you just can't swallow down, "Feels so fucking good…" 

"Not good enough to render you speechless," Gale hums against you, lust weaving through his tone. You'd almost think he was talking to himself, if it wasn't for the way he briefly looks at you, eyelids heavy, pupils blown-out. "Suppose I ought to continue." 

His mouth lavishes your cunt once more, firm sucks on your clit paired with swipes of his tongue that gently tease your needy entrance — You grip the desk tight, moving your hand to grab a fistful of his hair instead. You bite down so hard on your lip you think it might bleed. 

You can't focus, you feel weightless, his words won't leave you as much as his mouth continues to devour you. His sultry voice, his soft expressions of love; how long has he waited for this? How fiercely has he wanted you, wanted to tell you the fondness he kept captive inside? How long has he imagined pleasuring you on his tongue, until all you can manage to plead is his name? 

For longer than you were first picturing, surely. There's desperation to the new pace he's set, a wild yearning, as Gale allows his composure to slip and pleasures you with every single breath. His palm runs over the warm underside of your thigh when it twitches on his shoulder. He's relentless, even when you grip his hair so tightly it must hurt, whimpering for him and his mouth in unintelligible murmurs. 

He gives you more without the need for you to ask. He's moaning into you in turn, his tongue pressing in to taste you. And your taste is electrifying. The whine you give him is one he wishes to memorize. He feels he may yearn for this — to taste you, to have you — until the universe converges to a collapse, with all Nine Hells finally frozen over. 

Speechless, that's how he wants you, and if he continues like this, he might make good on such an objective. Ironic. For as much as he's spoken, you're the one asked to stay voiceless. You doubt he truly wants you quiet. Every moan you make at the lap of his tongue, or the brush of his lips, draws a staggered sigh from him in response. 

At least, considering how much the bastard spends talking, of course he's good with his mouth. 

He mumbles something inaudible against you, a mess where your name is the only thing you make out. His voice echoes in vibrations right onto your clit, and you're gasping, your thighs trembling. They practically close around his head, but he pushes them back apart to make room; his one hand on your thigh, the other on your waist. 

The moment you've relaxed, legs spread wide for him, he's grabbing your sides so tight it makes you go stiff in surprise. He's pulling you in, he's giving you more of his mouth, and you're rocking. You're grinding onto his tongue without forethought, focused only on the bliss that rips through your body and intensifies in your core. 

You barely catch the way his eyes flutter when you roll into him. He begins to guide your movements with his grip on your waist, pulling you closer while twirling his tongue, allowing you to use his mouth as you desire. 

And you do. You fuck yourself on his mouth and tongue between his hurried kisses, his muffled groans muttered against you. Until your high is frantically splintering towards you, your fingers flexing in his hair, your throat sore and muscles even tenser. 

"Gale," You can't get out anything but his name, lungs overtaken by gasps, the edge of your voice sore from cries of pleasure, "I-" 

You don't tell him you're there. You couldn't manage the words, but with the way he hums in approval against you, squeezing your waist in silent persuasion, his tongue focusing on your clit with tender precision — You suspect he knows, and he wants, needs you to cum for him. With your heart beating fast in your chest and your ears, the rope snaps, and you're cumming on his mouth, while his name is a stuttered mantra on your lips. 

Your thighs can't help but tense, brushing his face and smothering him; you pulse on his tongue, your grinds against him growing erratic, desperate. Everything in your body is swallowed by rocky waves, a sense of pleasure in your chest and your head and your core imploding with blistering heat. Your voice breaks. You only settle when you've fully succumbed, drowning in the aftershocks. 

After your eyes have slowly opened, and your fuzzy vision has returned, you notice you're not the only one struggling to breathe. You feel it first: the brief tickle of his warm breath on your thighs, his lips barely brushing against your skin. You hear him exhale, long but shaky: a perfectly enticing sound. 

Gale pulls apart from you while he huffs, he wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His face is flushed, lips parted, chest heaving. But fuck, he's smiling, grinning like you've never seen before, earnestly and so in love. Your heartbeat practically skips. 

You shouldn't be surprised that the first thing he does upon rising to unsteady feet is brace a hand on the desk, grasp your chin between his fingers, and kiss you. Your shoulders slump, and as you're kissing him back, you're breathing a soft exhale into his mouth. He drags you in as close as he can get you, leaving you practically smushed against his chest. Still, your heart begins to sing. Familiar feelings burn to life once more as his mouth parts, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. 

When you separate, it's agonizingly slowly. It's just enough for him to gaze into your eyes, to see you melt, simply from the way he looks at you. Together, you remain deadlocked for a moment, catching your breath without a word. His warm eyes and soft lips are effortlessly enticing; it takes every ounce of your remaining strength to resist kissing him again, surely crumbling the composure you've worked so hard to restore. He drifts back, a complacent look on his face. His fingers stay delicately grasping your chin. 

You're going to break the silence before he can, and you'll get straight to the point. 

"I need-" You swallow, resisting the urge to glance away from him no matter how flustered you've become. He can have your composure, he can have every damn part of you — "I need more. I need you. Please." 

Gale's spine tingles with an almost-shudder. He can't resist guiding you forward by your jaw, until his lips are able to kiss the top of your head. A kiss that drips with meaningful, aching adoration. Your heart stirs, and you let go of the breath you were holding. 

"Dearest," He coos quietly, a tender edge to his voice, like a knife that twists and caresses your ribs, "You will be given all you need. Perhaps even more." 

His fingertips skate your shoulders, before his palm presses to your chest. He kisses your cheek, and against your ear, he gives the faintest muttered instruction: Lay back. You were already doing so before the command, but his words lead you to follow the slight push of his palm, until you're settling with your back hitting the desk. 

The hardwood is cool against your skin, and he shoves some books aside to give you space to rest your head. He's leaning down with you, pressing a final kiss to your nape once you're stable. As Gale pulls back, coming into view above you, heat surges through your veins. Your nerves thrum with something more than love. Something more like sanctity. 

Sweat coats both your bodies in a glimmering sheen. Gale's hair is out of place, shadows flicker over his features but pay special attention to the grooved, dark scar on his chest. The sun has long since finished its descent, the last flecks of light vanishing to nothingness. You don't notice how dark it has truly become until Gale provides a solution with words under his breath, and a snap of his fingers. 

Effortlessly, light dances in your vision, the candles that decorate his study coming to life. His lips twitch into a smirk. His hand finds your side, feeling your shape. 

It's just the two of you, now and hopefully always, in his favorite corner of the world. On his damn desk, to make matters more tantalizing. The same desk he'd spend hours alone at, reading or planning lessons, trying not to let his mind wander to you instead. And you, speaking of. You, bathed in faint light, sprawled out beneath him like poetry on a page — Without a doubt, you are gorgeous. To the point of addiction. 

"There you are," He murmurs at last, while his thumb draws circles on your side. The lighting is still dim and moody, but this feels as though it is the first time he's truly been able to see you. To see all of you. He drinks you in, admiring your shape, your marks, your scars. The details that define you, everything he loves. 

He allows his gaze to drag down, and then up, back to your eyes. You're shuffling out of nervousness, but his warm touch on your skin encourages you to relax. 

"Beautiful, aren't you? Each time I look at you, I feel my love burn ever brighter. You are the sun. A warm, incandescent sun. Most worthy of worship. Basking in the heat of my affections, I would gladly allow you to reduce me to cinders." Reaching out to you, Gale's fingers brush your cheek, before he stops. He suddenly lets go of a sigh so heavy it makes his shoulders turn slack. "My apologies. I'm chattering on again. Such a habit is proving challenging to break." 

"Don't apologize," You counter, and you bring your hand to his own. Your fingertips brush his, you press his palm to your cheek and keep it there. The soft smile you flash him begs to be lost in. "If you haven't noticed, I quite like hearing your voice. You're sweet. And you always have the sweetest things to say." 

Gale grins, "Do I? Hm, I'd hate to have to call you mistaken, especially after the kindness you've imparted to me. But I believe you're the sweet one. In a multitude of ways, for that matter. I would certainly know." 

He only smiles wider when you pout, before playfully pushing at his shoulder. As you lean backward once more, getting comfortable, he is quick to close the distance in between you. 

Your arms sprawl above your head, wrists crossed over; as much as they can manage, anyways, accounting for the limited space his desk provides. Your elbows knock against carefully placed stacks of books, legs hanging over the desk's edge. Cool air fills and settles in your lungs, and he moves closer, a knee between your thighs, a hand pressed to the desk to rest himself over you. Throat dry, you swallow thickly. 

"But your thirst has not yet been quenched, now has it?" He murmurs, eyes narrowed, his voice noticeably lower than before. The palm he's kept to your cheek holds you delicately, and his thumb just barely brushes your plush bottom lip. 

"With you as delightful as you are," Gale is continuing, "To claim you deserve everything I could offer would be… plainer than insisting the midday sky to be blue, so to speak. I am eager to satisfy you, to give you the adoration you have most definitely warranted. I'd like to make this as pleasant as it will inevitably be unforgettable." He tilts your head towards him slightly, and you feel choked by breathlessness. "I could never express the whole of my love for you. But allow me to try." 

Your hands clam up, balling into sweaty fists as you try to maintain your gaze on his. Candle flames waver in the background of your vision, flickering to their own tune. His eyes travel from yours, to your lips, and back up again. 

"I love you," You whisper, because it's all you can think of, devotion is the only force running rampant in your mind, "I truly, earnestly do. We have time. We have nothing to fear anymore. You can take me in every way you wish. I'm yours, I always have been." 

Gale's brows pinch in thought, and his gaze brims with tenderness. "Then let us make up for the time we have lost." 

His palm moves. From your cheek, his touch patiently drifts to tickle the side of your neck. Your shoulder next, and you shudder when you feel his knuckles brush your chest. His touch is home, familiar and grounding, dragging the ruin from within you amid each subtle stroke. In the same instant, your heart is heavy, and set ablaze. 

"We can drown in each other. There is nothing I have wished for more, not a soul I have wanted greater than you." Gale divulges, "I've dreamt of this. Of making love to you, as we breathe one another's names. Of hearing you confess precisely what you've just told me, that you are mine." 

He inhales slowly, shakily. His palm gently feels your stomach, your hip, the curve of your side, while his resolute gaze never departs from your own — "I love you. You deserve perfection. And although I cannot promise such a thing, I swear to give you all of me." 

Gale watches your expression start to soften; reminiscent of the same sun he has always seen in you, when it first dawns from the steady, sea-bound horizon. You shift, your legs repositioning to either side of his waist, caging him in. You're smiling, and he keeps his eyes on your hazy form. 

"I don't need perfection," You answer simply, earnestly. "I just need you." 

You. 

There's so much hidden in such a short and basic word. I need you. You've longed for more than just to stand at his side as an ally, an assistant, a friend. Now, he can see that. How foolish he was to ever believe otherwise. At last, with no more perils to stand in your way, you're together. You have time. Your hearts can finally indulge in the magnetism they have to each other, no longer ruled by uncertainty. 

Without hesitation, you need him — as you have since the start, and for all that he is. 

For his softness, his intelligence, for the change in his voice when he's rambling about something he enjoys, and for the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren't paying attention. You found yourself wishing he knew. You've grown entranced with every part of him, including flaws coalesced with ambition, regardless of your possible destruction. Falling for him was natural. Mistakes and magic and mortality in all. 

Perhaps there is time to be made up for. But falling in love, entwining your fates together until they were at last pulled back as one, was purely inevitable. 

Gale exhales. He runs his fingers through his hair, his shoulders taut, hoping to relieve some of the tension. It only helps marginally. Both hands then maneuver to grip your waist. His thumbs brush your hips, the faintest touch alighting your skin in goosebumps. 

"You are… Gods, you fill me with such potent emotions, you know?" He murmurs; your arms are locking around his shoulders, keeping him close, and as he notices the heaviness to your eyes, his breath slowly grows more ragged, "I have always loved you, I've wanted this so terribly. And yet, now that it's happening, now that you are here, and not a lifetime apart like we both once were, I don't- I cannot think. My mind refuses to allow it." 

His hands tense on your waist, his brows furrowing, fingertips pressing ever-so forcefully into your skin. When you smile in response, and drag him in to interrupt with a tender, long kiss to his lips — this time, while eyes flutter shut in unison, heads tilting, a soft groan uttered against your mouth — thinking is left to become irrelevant. 

The focused expression he was wearing melts to a warm grin once you've pulled apart from him, exhaling heated breaths against his lips. His gaze on yours glints with affection, and his mind is a beautiful mess: thoughts not finding a beginning, nor an end. Smoothly and softly, Gale cups your cheek, and as you lean into his touch, the rest of his head weakens with blooms of love. 

For you, he has always been weak. You could best him, you could threaten to destroy him. You could pull him apart at the seams with tender, blood-soaked hands, and as long as you kissed him while cleaving his heart out, he would unravel for you with a smile. 

He murmurs quietly, "So I won't. I will cast any and all thoughts of mine to the wind. Doubt has long since had its fill of me, I refuse to provide it with more satisfaction. I've never loved anyone as intensely as I love you. Nothing could sate me as you do. With fate now ours to command… I hope I won't be made to let go of you." 

"Don't, don't ever let go of me," You answer, your tone a gentle coo, your hands tensed on his shoulders, "And don't you dare pull away." 

Gale laughs, huffing slightly. Then, he surges forward, along with pulling you in, until his lips are crashing like lulling waves against your own. 

You kiss, again and again, pressed together with purpose, burning with intensity. Blindly, his grip finds your wrist when your hands slip from his shoulders. An arm falls beside you, and he adjusts the other. Fingertips drift over your palm, he presses your hand beside your head, and he laces his fingers with your own. His hand and yours fit together like lock and key; naturally, just as he'd described. Your heart must resist the desire to never let go. 

As he slowly drags apart from your lips, he's moving to kiss your jaw, your neck. Warm, soft kisses, his tongue lightly tasting your skin, guiding you to curl into him. The slightest attention has a way of feeling so intoxicating, whenever he is the one to provide it. 

Anticipation envelops you. Desire links between him and yourself, and settles deep in the pit of your stomach. It gnaws at you, wanting more, wanting what you've needed since you first found each other. His touch is so irresistible because you've been waiting to feel it. You've dreamt and imagined, hoped and fought so you both could survive, and now, he is finally yours. 

"What do you need from me?" Gale hums into your nape, his palm caressing your side while he squeezes your hand. Sultry voice muffled, his messy hair tickles your skin, and his lips brush your collarbone. "I want to hear your voice speak the words." 

So, you answer. You let his voice wrap around you, his kisses to your neck embrace you, and allow yourself to melt underneath the weight of your longing. 

"I need you," You stammer into the open air, your grip on his hand growing tight. When he hums against your throat, faint kisses twisted with heady vibrations, you know what he wants, and you'll give him much more than that: "Fuck me, please…" 

The brazenness to your own words makes your head pool with poignant visions, daydreams of Gale pinning you to his desk and taking you like you've both been craving; a hand in yours, his thumb in your mouth. Slowly, intensely, amidst hitches of breath and skin against skin. With a tenderness so acute and raw, that the press of him inside you would be divine enough to make the Gods take notice. 

Some senseless part of you almost hopes they do. 

A terribly soft kiss is placed on your cheek, and you're shivering, listening to his breath pick up and his sighs get heavier. Your ankles are locking around him, they're pulling him closer. Now, he's moving, he kisses your lips fervently as your hand grips his, and your free palm settles onto the center of his chest; as it has done many times before, as though it was meant to be there. His heart pounds, his hips shove into yours. The stiff weight of his length, confined in his slacks, grinds between your legs — and you give up on whatever shreds of sense you were still holding onto. 

After a slow drag away from your lips, your chin now held between his fingers, Gale takes a deep breath. An intense, steadying breath. Through heavy eyes, the way he looks at you earns a shiver that traverses down the length of your spine. 

His brow cocks, his lips form a tell-tale smirk; and you should know from the way he looks at you that you've lost. Still, it takes his words to truly hammer it home, while your heart hammers in your chest alongside them. 

"You're quite exhilarating. Nevertheless, I suspect you are well aware of the powerful effects your coy words often have on me. With much proficiency, you know my weaknesses." Gale draws his fingertips over your jaw, his head tilted in subtle concentration. His voice is kept level, in the same gentle tone you've come to know, but there's no doubt he has you right where he wants you. You can tell, you could always tell. His gaze darkens with familiar ambition, and he draws a slow, shaky inhale. 

Yes, you may know his weaknesses. But he knows yours. 

"Need is but a dire, hungry word. Though, I must admit, I find it terribly sweet to hear you pleading for me." Gale teases, "Brings to mind our adventures together, your small implores of please when you wanted my help. Generally with some sort of riddle. Or a particularly well-locked door, perhaps. Of course, I could never say no to you." 

"Mhmm," You hum in reply, speaking slowly to force your growing nerves to calm. You've watched Gale master spell after spell, triumph over puzzle after puzzle. You can only imagine this is what it's like to be on the receiving end. Briefly, you clear your throat, "Let me guess, it's even sweeter to hear it from me now?" 

"Oh, yes. It certainly is. But a plea must be accompanied by an acknowledgement. I'd be cruel to keep you waiting any longer." 

Your fingers tense from the absence once his hand releases yours, but the way his touch glides down, from the shape of your hips to the back of your thighs, quickly has your nails digging into your own palm. You draw your bottom lip between your teeth. He tugs you closer, close enough to have your bodies rock together again — Shuddering, he sucks in a sharp breath, freezing up completely. It takes everything he has to resist grinding against you once more, to disregard the way his cock throbs at the thought alone. 

He's teased you quite enough. You are going to have what you want, and you're going to get it properly. 

Your eyelids flutter, your voice weak, desperate, "Gale-" 

Abruptly, you cut yourself off when he smooths his palms up your sides and leans in. Distances close, his lips brush the shell of your ear and his body presses closer to your own. Feeling him against you, the weight in his slacks nudging your entrance and brushing your clit, worn fabric growing messy and glossy with your arousal — It's merely a taste, when what you truly want is to feel him inside you. 

Every inch of your skin seems to burn with flushed heat. You were hoping to get him going a little. On that front, you seem to have succeeded. But you couldn't have expected him to turn the tides right back on you. 

His voice comes out right next to your ear, reverberating through you, pulling you under to drown in fervent waters. 

"You need me, yes?" Gale murmurs, and as his lips brush your lobe, you swear you can hear his stupid smile through his tone alone, "If you are begging for me to take you, to fuck you, what sort of lover would I be if I denied you what you've been desiring?" 

Your throat aches with a high-pitched whine; the building warmth within you blisters, and all your yearning culminates to this.

To your chest heaving between his kisses to your jaw and your face, your palm snaking between your bodies, arm reaching downward as far as it can manage. You're practically panting, as you allow your fingers to graze his waistband and fumble for a better grip. He indulges you, propping above you for a moment, and then discarding his pants in a rush, pushing them down just enough to let his cock come free. 

The dusting of brown hair leading from his chest to his stomach trails all the way down, but you aren't given much of a chance to stare; his hands grab your hips, he guides you while surging forwards to place a desperate kiss to your mouth. The tip of his cock, flushed and pearled with precum, ever-so slightly brushes your waiting entrance. 

And this — The sigh that racks through you, the expression on his face when he pulls back to look at you, to admire you, lips parted as he gasps. Your bodies tremor with the same longing, the same wavelength. Love drips over your heart and your ribs, melting like long crystallized amber, warm and rich and effortlessly palpable. 

You couldn't ask for anything else. In his presence, in his comfortable tower in Waterdeep, with his hands on your skin and his heart beating to the rhythm of your own, you've found your home. This moment is more than lovely. It is perfect, and as your soul begs to be known, to be understood, he instills you with a promise of worship. 

Worship. The adoration one might give to the Gods is still not divine enough for what you deserve, Gale believes. 

Perhaps it's your sense of contentment that causes your heart to stir. When your mind starts to wander, envisioning what the future may hold as Gale is squeezing your hips and peppering sweet kisses down your neck — You'd move in with him, the moment he asked. His tower has plenty of space for the both of you. Not that you have many belongings. His tressym has practically begged you to stay, citing herself that Gale wants you to, that he'd likely ask you, if he had the courage. He's much happier whenever you're around dear, he is simply too proud to admit it. 

Hells, you'd marry him if he were to propose, you've already dreamt of how he might do it. What he'd say, as he gets down on one knee and takes your hands into his. You wouldn't even think twice before you'd be resounding with a yes, followed by those three special words. 

He wouldn't have to simply show you the spectacles of his home, you could live through them. You could enjoy thousands of days just like this one, relaxing, teaching together, and then arriving home, indulging in each other's company until the sun rises back into the sky. It would be a nice life. The calm, simple life you both have earned. 

Your thoughts grow stuck on this morning, in particular. When the both of you had no idea what would transpire, still just friends, greeting each other politely as Gale ushered you into his home. Your lungs filled with the familiar smell of books, and the fresh new scent of the sea. 

The pitter patter of your heart in your chest grew frantic when he hugged you, and once he pulled back, he flashed you a smile that could melt a long, harsh winter. You cleared your throat, you kept your musings to yourself when he began to go over your plans at Blackstaff Academy for the day. 

It seems obvious now, but in the moment, you hardly thought anything of the soft way he looked at you. With such admiration, such devotion, a gaze on yours that promised, you can have me, I would allow it. And as Gale went over various spells, some you recognized and others you didn't, you could only pay attention to the tenderness in his voice, the focus on his face, and the dexterous movement of his hands. 

You felt foolish for imagining what else his pretty hands might be capable of. If only you knew. 

A deep breath in brings you back to the present. Gale leaves one last kiss to your nape, propping over you to reach up, pushing stray strands of hair from his face. You exhale, momentarily growing lost in his gaze. You've seen the love in his eyes countless times before, but his expression this time is different. It's brutally pleading, hopelessly tender. Nervous, almost. 

His hips shift tentatively, his gaze on yours, the fat head of his cock nudging against you — Pleasure surges through him like lightning, making his jaw clench as he swallows a groan. You both breathe a set of stuttery sighs, and your fingers tremor, before your hands clench tight. 

Reaching up, you settle with holding his shoulders once more. You feel the roaring heat under his skin, the dampness of sweat when you grip them for leverage. Muttering, you start, breaking into a whimper when a rock of his hips clumsily grinds his length against your cunt without pressing inside, "Gale, oh, fuck- I'd… I'd like you to try something. Can you?" 

Moving his palm from where it was covering his mouth, helping to muffle any slight noises, you notice Gale's lips are forming a smile. Although, the sweat beading at his pinched brows gives his desperation away. 

"Funny," He replies, his voice breathless and husky, "I was just about to fling a proposal on you. Nothing too terribly important, don't," He swallows, "Don't worry. I'm most interested in fulfilling your request. Go on, what is it?" 

You can't resist gnawing on your bottom lip before you speak, your gaze shifting from his, to somewhere in the distance. Now, you're the nervous one, "The… illusion magic, the spells you showed to me earlier. This morning, if you remember, when we were going over your syllabus? I thought magic of that nature might have some… other uses, is that right?" 

Magic is no stranger to you. But the illusion magic Gale has grown well versed in since he began his teachings, the complicated spells that hinge on nothing more than the limits of one's imagination — Outside of what he has already taught you, those are a mystery. You can't decide if your interest is because of their inherent perplexity, or if you're merely entranced because Gale has taken a liking to them. 

When he was showing you a couple basic spells, you once again found yourself enamored with the wonder on his face, the awe in his voice as he explained the spell's inner workings. This one you could master quite easily, he murmured, sparkling gaze on yours as he held a projection in his hands with relative ease. A projection of a small bloom, your favorite flower. You hardly recall when you must have told him it was your favorite, nor were you expecting him to remember. As you reached out, you swore you could feel the bud's smooth phantom petals underneath your fingertips. 

His voice, speaking quiet incantations, his fingers, easily forming the shapes necessary to bring the spells to life — It was mesmerizing, as captivating as you remembered it to be, way back when. 

This wasn't back then, though. The moment itself felt newly intimate. Sparks filled the air and your lungs, flecks of lingering Weave, pleasant energy working through your body from the ends of your toes to the top of your head. His energy, Gale's magic. The spells he casts have a way of seeming like him, unique and defining, down to the very way they feel. 

You were reminded of your journey together. Of the ashes in the air on the heels of a fiery incantation, of the zeal in your veins from a protective shield, or a hastening touch. Your heart twinged with a stronger ache, held down by how much you've missed him. 

You want to be enveloped in that familiar sensation again. In his magic. In the comforting way it settles around you, the feeling it alights in your chest, and in the way it reminds you that he's here. 

Your words cause Gale to pause. His expression carries the gentlest hint of surprise. He opens his mouth to speak, before stopping. Instead, he smiles, he cocks a brow, and the only thing to betray his newfound confidence is the heavy heave of his chest. 

Unfortunately, you can't hear the way his heart is pounding. You can't sense the brilliant adoration, the foolish excitement that burns into him, affection lapping at his chest with persistent flames. But he can show you. 

"How clever. Extraordinarily clever, really. And you're only," Gale makes a small pinching gesture, "A slight bit off from what I was hoping to suggest, as a matter of fact." 

He reaches for your side then, gently caressing your skin under his palm; you relax at his touch, but stay focused on him as he speaks, "Gods, you know me all too well. Perhaps better than I know myself. Illusory magic lends itself excellently to various creative uses, I think a fair few spells could prove useful, given our current… position. As it happens, I have just the spell in mind." 

"Do you?" You shuffle, your breath hitching slightly in your lungs, while his palm continues to run over your skin, clearly relishing in the way you shiver. "I didn't know if, you know- I wasn't sure if it was something you wanted. You're really okay with this?" 

"Love," Gale hums, interrupting with a quiet instruction, "Close your eyes." 

Panting softly, you allow your arms to rest above you on the desk, and you adjust a bit to get more comfortable. You match your gaze with his for a moment, your heart only beating faster at the honeyed reverence in his eyes. Then, slowly, you take a deep breath, and let the world disappear. 

There's silence, darkness. You feel his hand squeeze your side in gentle reassurance. He shifts, pressing closer. When you hear his voice next, your nervousness is put at ease, calmness flooding through your body. Warm and especially addicting, his words are all you have to focus on. 

"You are precious. As perfect as the alluring beauty of the moon. As lovely as the sparkling sanctity of the Heavens stars," He murmurs, at a volume barely above a whisper. His breath is steady on your skin, and his fingertips trail up your side, to leave barely-there touches over your chest. "If you do not like this, tell me. We'll waste no time stopping." 

"I will," You answer, your own voice seeming to echo in your eardrums, "But it's okay. I trust you." 

This time, his breathing in your ear runs slow. You dwell in a few seconds of hesitation, wrapped in budding anticipation, before you assume you feel him pulling away. He utters a soft word laced with power, his fingers snap, and your head goes hazy. 

"Praestigium."

The invocation breathes a plea, calling upon a source, and the magic responds in turn: sharp, wild, divine. 

You can feel the comforting veins of magic flowing through you, settling around you, cradling your mind in a warm embrace almost instantly. Your eyes flutter open — Or do they? For a moment, it's difficult to tell, as your dizzy vision refocuses, and the pleasant illusion becomes part of you. 

It feels like your head is shrouded in clouds. You're soaring, floating on air, no longer able to feel the hardness of his firm wooden desk beneath you. The room melts; everything is there, but at the same time, it isn't. Shadows speckle your vision, blurry shrouds that slowly begin to melt to pure white. Gale comes into focus above you. His form is perfectly clear, his warm smile effortlessly charming. 

Energy surrounds you: satin and strength, sweetness and intelligence. The smell of sandalwood wafts through the air, flooding your lungs, then slowly starting to fade. Just like that, you are grounded. You are balanced, your mind clearer than ever, and the moment veils you, it embraces you, it is you. 

It's far from what you were expecting, but the surprise is more than welcome. You thought having illusion magic cast on yourself would be more floaty. More akin to a dream, or a living foggy memory. 

Yet, this feels real, wonderfully real, as though he's carved out a space in reality for him and yourself to call your own. Here, with him, nothing else matters. Nothing but your longing, your love, and the infinite future that stretches ahead of you. 

When he leans in to kiss your cheek, you feel his lips, his breath, and his fingertips on your jaw, with a vivid touch that shines — rolling through you like the spark of constellations, an aurora of shivering pleasure and brilliant closeness. Both hands grab your hips, and you feel them strongly, comfortingly, the intensity as he shifts them nearly too much to bear. He guides your legs to wrap around his waist again, locked at the ankles, holding him close. 

He is the only thing you can perceive, your senses are heightened, and every sensation to grip you is positively electric. This magic does more than spawn an illusion or clear your mind; it's intensifying your grip on mortality. 

You can hear his breathing as easily as it were your own. You can feel his heart, can measure each quick beat when he collides his lips with yours, his chest pressing against you. Thump, thump, thump, in your ears, in your own ribs, then the heavy thrum of his shadowy blight — so raw and intense, it nearly threatens to swallow you. 

His presence entwines yours, his magic sears through you. He pulls you closer with his palm holding the back of your head, and he kisses you like this time could be the last. Your core burns red-hot. You're enveloped in dizzying feelings you can't quite place. As he pulls away, you lean back, and you let your head sink into the clouds. His palm stays to cup your face, slightly tilting your head towards him. 

You both catch your breath, chests heaving. Gale admires you underneath him, brushing your cheek with his thumb. He places a kiss to your forehead that glimmers over you like an untamed ray of sunlight. 

Slowly, as your head grows used to the spell, you calm, becoming more relaxed. Your mind is a clear, still lake, your thoughts as crisp as cool water. When you hear him speak once more, his head tilted to breathe the words against your ear, it's as though his voice is everywhere, ebbing and flowing through your brain as an encircling echo. 

"Comfortable?" He murmurs, simply and softly. 

"Yes, very," You answer with a nod of your head. Your own voice appears muffled, reminiscent of being underwater, "This is… lovely. It's amazing. You're amazing." 

"Excellent. I'm glad to hear you aren't too overwhelmed," Gale continues. His smooth tone bounces around the walls of your skull, while his fingertips drift down, drawing shapes you can't recognize onto your nape. "Remember, what you are experiencing is merely an altered form of reality. Do not push yourself. This old desk isn't exactly a bed of roses, but I hope I've succeeded in making it a mite more comfortable for you." 

Grinning to yourself, you allow your arms to relax beside you, and you promptly shudder, growing lost in the feeling of weightlessness beneath you. Gale straightens. He props himself above your form, his gaze indulging in you. 

Although his study is mostly a blur, details meshed in flowery fog, telltale light from the candles still dances across his features. You reach up, trailing your fingers over his earring, the metal cold on your skin. Then, your fingertips brush his cheek, they caress the faded trail of dark lines burned into his skin. He smiles, and he brings a hand to settle over your own. 

His touch is warm. It is a crisp morning breeze drifting through you; his eyes flutter shut when he kisses the heel of your palm, and every inch of you flushes with tangible radiance. He pulls your wrist away, only to bring you palm to palm, fingertips to fingertips for a few moments. His hand lies flat against yours, before your fingers tightly, naturally lace. 

"In all sincerity, I must admit," He begins, shyly glancing away from you, muttering through a laugh that seems to jostle your entire system, "The spell I've cast on you is… clearly not meant to be harnessed in such a way. Or perhaps, more so, it is not often used while such, erm, satisfactions… are taking place. Even for a wizard of my caliber, it may prove difficult to control- If the spell ever snaps, so to speak, just know you have no reason to be alarmed." 

Head still heavy from the incantation's lingering effects, you were so lost in his ramblings — resounding through your mind like they never have before — you almost failed to notice he's begun to lean in. He softly guides your hand to press down, against the surface of what you can only assume is his desk. At first, you can feel the resistance, but soon softness overlaps. Clouds envelop the sensation, and you're left suspended in air once more. 

Your heart skips when he kisses you, slowly and smoothly. Innocently, at first, devotion carrying you on soft wings. And then, deeper, while his hand squeezes yours, and his tongue explores your mouth with a languid lack of urgency. 

You melt, your chest encompassed in a floating feeling. He murmurs soft groans into your mouth; every part of him yearns to pull you closer, to have you, to hold you. Gods, he loves you, and he curses himself for ever trying to push those feelings down. He won't let you go now, no matter how the world tries to pry you from each other's grasp. 

When he shifts, pressing closer, kissing you harder, the flushed and needy tip of his cock nudges your cunt — Instantly, a blistering sense of ecstasy flutters through your every pore, and you whine into him, your body going slack. 

And that was simply from a touch. Just a small press of him against you, brushing close to where you're deliciously sensitive, and you're fucking breathless. Your core is wound with preemptive pleasure; just a tease, and your mind is swimming with how badly you need to feel him inside you. You aren't sure what you'll experience once you're given more, once you're actually taking him. 

That damned spell. You should be a mess by now. Perhaps you are, and the calm cradle of the illusion is what's tethering you to the earth. Tether or not, you hardly care about keeping your composure. You don't care for your imminent disarray. In fact, more than anything, you need to have him ruin you. 

It's hard to speak. Your lungs are aching, but as he draws backward from your lips, you manage to huff, "You aren't going to hold back, right?" 

Gale smirks, exhaling in short pants. He pushes up, putting his familiar silhouette — messy hair, broad shoulders tensed, branded chest slightly heaving — back in the forefront of your vision. 

"Oh, I'm afraid I am far past the threshold of being able to do so. For you, for everything you have long awaited, my desires will remain unhindered," He replies calmly, brows slightly furrowed. "Besides, I've been sharpening my concentration as of late. This could prove an opportune time to assess the extent of my exercises. I think we're both wondering how much pressure my focus can take." 

His words ripple through you, comforting and lighthearted in their tone. They do the trick. You're sparked with delight, your mind set at ease. Briefly, you wonder if the incantation connects you together, because when you relax, he seems to as well: his breathing becoming calmer, his expression softening, and his grip on your hand relaxing. 

If you truly wanted to, you'd find escaping from the spell he's placed on you to be rather simple. You've faced much more enthralling spells than this. Magic more complex, much more wicked. You know the feeling of having a spell muddle your mind, down to your very bones; you have your little journey to thank for that. And you know how to break them, as simply as putting one foot in front of the other. 

This spell is different. It is warm and soothing, it carries none of the malice that would weigh down the charms you've felt before. It's effortlessly him, magic which caresses you as though his very arms were there to hold you. Magic that roots into you, a breath of life, a ray of moonlight. Thoughtful as always, Gale has made this particular spell weak, and you can determine so without trying. Likely to make snapping it simple, if you decided to. 

You could break the illusion. But you choose to let go. 

You breathe in, slowly and deeply, and you allow the spell to swallow every last aspect of your being. The clouds wane briefly, before you're surrounded, melting slowly into pleasure and froth. The moment feels raw, alive. You are here, you both are, finally able to love, to be loved. And love him you will. Without any regret. 

Gale, appearing clear and pure above you, pushes his hair from his face, and looks at you like you are worth dying for. Living for. His expression is painfully soft. He steadies a hand on your side, he dotes on your dips and curves and marble-carved features; every part of you was meant to be adored, akin to the statues one might bow before. He sighs slowly, inhales even slower. 

"The spell," He begins, palm caressing your side with gentle motions, "You could break it yourself, yes?" 

You nod, tone soft, "Yes, absolutely." 

"Very good." Gale's voice echoes. It splinters through your mind, it knits into your heartbeat, "Not that I had a shred of doubt. You're doing quite well." 

A squeeze of your hand, a grip on your side pulling you ever-so carefully closer, and heightened surges of intensity are shooting through you much stronger than before. Your eyes shut, your back arches, your muscles ache, but pleasure takes over to drown you, his cock brushing your entrance. Lips parted, he exhales a trembling breath, one that seems to travel through you in turn.  

"Focus, and breathe slowly. Deep breaths in, and then finally, out. I'm here with you. I won't be going anywhere." 

Your heart is pounding, but at the sound of his voice, at the feeling of his smooth tone bouncing around you, your thoughts become still. Your pulse slows, your chest gently rises, and then falls. The only thing left rushing through your veins is a wild, unfiltered need. 

"Stay with me, please," Gale breathes, words cracking at the edges. He presses closer, his eyes close and his forehead comes to rest against yours, your bodies held on the loving cusp of almost-connection. "Stay, and let me be tender for you, my dearest love." 

"Gale-" You murmur, your voice sweet in his ears like dripping syrup, as you strum the familiar notes of his name. "I love you, I need you." 

Of course, and you will have him. 

Gale gives your hand one more squeeze, reassuring you, preparing you. He swallows down the growing thickness in his throat. His head is buried in the nape of your neck as he finally gives himself to you, carefully easing into you — Everything slow, heat rushing through you in the form of a wildfire, the clouds holding you in their ethereal embrace. Pleasure pulls your every nerve taught in a tight, delightful string, and for once, your soul within you feels alive. 

His fingers go shaky, his grip tightens on your side in response. You're just barely fit around the head of him, and you feel him mutter a half-sigh, half-moan into your nape that shakes your body with the potent vibrations. 

It's like you can feel the spell itself shudder. 

"I love you," He's pressing into your warmth, his jaw clenched, hips gently rolling, filling you with more of him until you are stretching to his shape, "Could I give you more? Can you take all of me?" 

"Yes," Your throat is unmistakably sore, but still, you speak without thinking. You need more, need to feel the friction become part of your body as he fills you. Your back arches to meet him, and pleasure hums in your veins with intoxicating strength. Every one of his gasps echoes against you, then through you. The thrum of his warm cock inside you is so deliciously, impossibly perfect. 

"F-Fuck," You swear, biting down your quickened gasps, fighting through the incessant pound of your heart; lest your languor succeeds in devouring you, "Please, yes…" 

The whine that overtakes the edge of your voice makes him shiver. Gale groans softly, his shoulders growing tense. His hips lazily buck into you — until his pelvis is shoved deft against your body, sweat-soaked skin pressed to softer skin, burying him inside you down to the hilt. 

His breath on your nape is loud, hurried, and at the mercy of his weary limbs, he tries his hardest not to collapse. Silently, he must thank you for getting one high out of him earlier. With how good you feel, with how badly he's needed you, if you hadn't, he isn't sure if he'd last much longer. 

Not like you are faring any better. 

Your heart isn't just beating, but battering at your chest, tearing through your body and knocking into your ribs as though it needs to come free. You wouldn't be surprised if your gasps are resounding just as loudly as his. Thighs shaking, you struggle to keep your legs wrapped around his waist, your ankles almost slipping before he grabs your legs to readjust you. He shifts close, still sheathed inside you. The gentle movement sends small ripples of ecstasy through your core that, in the wake of his spell, instead feel like large, thundering waves. Crashing over you, swallowing you. 

You feel full, so fucking full. The depth to where you can feel him — all of him, so deep inside you — practically has your head whirling. Gale blinks, his vision blurred, causing his lashes to tickle your skin in a faint butterfly kiss. You're wobbling and teetering like a spinning top. Your eyes flutter closed, trying to steady some of your own dizziness. 

This time, he presses a real kiss to your nape. Then, he's working a palm underneath you, supporting your back, holding you close. His other hand finds its perfect place in your own again, your fingers lacing with his. Around him, you feel irresistible, so wet and warm and lovely. You are everything he has ever wanted, you are his love; the world, in the palms of his hands. 

He wants to let his hips rock, wants to hear your voice strained with lust while you're pleading in pants of his name. He needs to feel the electrifying friction blazing through him, as he fucks wave after wave of pleasure into you — Though, despite those desires, despite the way they fall into him, gripping him at his very core, he stops. He calms, and he savors you. 

You're given a chance to catch your breath, thankfully. To drift among the endless sky underneath you, and the river of magic surrounding you. In this reality, on this bed of stars and sea, his presence and yours are all to exist. Pulse still racing, you indulge in the stretch of him inside you. He feels utterly exhilarating, even without movement. For a few fleeting moments, you simply bask in each other, and nothing more. 

"You feel so good… So stunningly perfect," Gale is gasping, every word breathless, "Ah- Just this alone could sate me, drowning in your warmth around me while our bodies connect- Your soul and mine are truly one. Nothing else compares." 

Nothing in this universe compares to you. 

You are his beginning, and you will be his end. You've captured him in warmth, in an embrace that breathes velvet promises, until every part of you is left racing through his mind. 

Gale remembers the faint smiles you'd flash him whenever he caught your eyes, your nose scrunching so delightfully, your head turning away as his words made you chuckle. It's the same smile each time. The same expression, the same dance of adoration in your gaze when yours and his happen to meet. 

A love reserved only for him. His own form of love is engraved with your name. 

You float between every thought, making him think you might've become part of him. He fondly dotes on his memories of the sparkling stars in your eyes, the way you looked as you gazed up at them, admiring the constellations that have always watched over you. He can put a name to them all, because you were his reason to remember. At any time, in any place, those woven stars shone overhead, writing the twists and turns of destinies. And now, after tonight, they'll give you the privilege of viewing them together once more. 

He could never forget you. It wasn't a possibility, not when he still revels in all of your details that make him oh-so weak. His missing piece returned to him, you are his love, his home. 

Perhaps you were meant to be connected. Body and soul, with separate lifetimes worth of familiarity. You're two halves of the very same whole. To have known one another, is to be the sun and sunflower, the rain and the soil, the grand mountains, and the edge of the clouds. You'll find yourselves in everything, ultimately. 

The orb could take him, and if he became nothing but dust, taking his city of Waterdeep with him in a storm of decimation — What remains of his devotion would find its way home to you. 

But he wouldn't allow it. Not anymore. He is going to live, against everything, along with you, and beside you. No matter what it may cost him. 

With a small shift, his hips grind into you faintly, he presses into you impossibly deeper. Your bottom lip quivers, before you take it between your teeth. As you feel him throb inside you, you're sighing together in delightful unison. 

"You are…" His words are shaky, they wobble through your mind. For once, to your elation, he can hardly seem to speak, "Sweetheart, my dearest… I just- I love-" 

His sentence stays unfinished; Gale stutters into a shuddery whine when you pull him in, your legs wrapped around him, dragging him just a bit closer, but enough to enthrall both of you in powerful sparks. The pleasure that overtakes him, that overtakes the both of you, is so vibrant and love struck, so unlike anything else — You're sure neither of you will be able to hold back, not anymore. 

Good. 

"More, please," You plead, your voice needy to the point of babbling, "Fuck me, I need you, I'm- ah, please, Gale…" 

Shuddering, Gale takes an overly long breath. His grip tenses on your hand, and he softly rubs his thumb over your calloused knuckles. Cool air enters his lungs, calming his mind, steadying his heart. And when he finally begins to move, you've never felt anything more divine. 

You were made for one another, you're sure of it. You must be, when every sensation to encompass you does so with such endlessness. With tenderness that has the very forming of his name on your tongue completely intrinsic. 

His hips rock into you shallowly, careful and passionate thrusts hardly separating you. Pleasure melds within your veins so sinfully, until your heart can only believe in the inevitable bond between your two shapes. 

As he keeps up a steady pace, driving his cock inside you, you're murmuring gasps between every whine of his name. His secluded study is filled with noise. With the melody of skin against skin, and the echoes of your breathing and his. The wet sound of your arousal squelches around his length each time you take him. He keeps his head buried in the nape of your neck, his quickened breath fanning over your skin. Easing into you, he then pulls out only half-way, just to thrust in again with a slow, languid press of his hips. 

Gale has experienced wonders most mortals could only dream of. And yet, he's never felt anything quite like this. 

It's been a while. A very, very long time, in fact, since he has connected with anyone in this sort of way. So long, he's forgotten what it could feel like — Bodies pressed together in a perfect, tangled mess. Hands entwined and lungs strained. 

But he has never loved anyone quite the same as his love for you. This is different. Warm beams of intimacy fill him more and more with every buck of his hips into you, with every whimper from your lips for him. And those delicate feelings swelling in his chest — They are entirely, utterly new. 

This moment feels sweet. Carnal. There's something so filthy, yet so, impossibly loving about feeling you in such a way. Back then, against his composure and his better judgment, he imagined this. He dreamt of taking you, and hopelessly wondered if you wanted the same. Now, the ecstasy of feeling you around him practically burns. You are addicting, everything he could want in the best possible way. Intoxicatingly his, just as he's always yearned for. 

You have thousands more days and nights ahead of you, there will be countless times to come. Time for him to love you, to hold you, to show you what magic lies on his lips. That is what truly gets him. This moment will last. It won't be a dream, or a passing fantasy. Your gentle future is only just beginning. 

Gale's movement comes to steady as he pushes up, breathing one last sigh against your nape before he props over you. Your entrancing eyes are half-lidded, your lips are parted as you pant. You're pretty enough to destroy him. He already knows he would let you. 

His palm cups your cheek. You tilt into his touch, leaning back against his desk and the foggy pillows underneath you. Beneath his fingertips, the thrum of his magic clings to your skin like a flower's soft petal caught in a spider's web. He knows he must be the only figure in your vision, just as you are the center of his world. He can picture the way his voice and his touch are shining through you. His gasps are echoing in your ears, his palm drifts from your cheek to your neck to the curve of your shoulder, and surely brands light wherever it brushes. 

When his hand comes to settle on your side, holding tight while he rocks into you, he can't seem to help himself from glancing down. Gale watches as his steady movement has his cock nestling inside you, disappearing to fill you to the tune of you moaning for him, the shaft glistening in the low light once he starts to pull back. 

Gods. The thoughts that begin to race though his head are so terribly, deliciously filthy — Overwhelmed, his pace starts to falter, he's growing clumsy. His grip on your hand turns so tight it nearly hurts, his brows furrowed into a knot, as he pistons into you with newfound desperation. 

Waning sensitivity still clings to him, leftover from his previous high. In a fluttery contradiction, the intensity surging through him only seems to make him want you more. 

"I don't deserve how good you are to me," Gale hums, slightly shaking his head — Every sigh, each word bounces around your skull and glows within you from the inside out. His steady presses inside you don't relent, his skin slapping yours; they just force his words to shake, and his hand to clench much harder on your waist. 

"This… possessiveness I have for you, it's- Ah, Gods… It is damn near agonizing," He's murmuring, speaking those last few words through an almost-chuckle, "My heart has never yearned for anything more. You made me feel alive, love. Tonight, and always. And you feel-" His jaw tightens, teeth gritting, "Utterly amazing… Tell me, if you can find the strength within you to speak. Tell me how this feels." 

Right now, your mind is swimming. Stardust glitters in your veins, and your core is wound nice and tight, overwhelmed by ripples of pleasure. For a moment, words won't come to you. Instead, you reach up to press a palm to the back of his head, and you drag him close, quick enough to make him utter a faint noise of surprise against your soft lips. You kiss, slowly and deeply. You're both sighing heavily once you've pulled away to breathe. 

"S-So good, it's perfect, you're perfect," There's a desperate edge to your voice. You can feel the rawness in your throat, can make out the high tones even through the fog in your head, "Gale, don't stop- Gale-" 

Gale shudders. Your palm slips from his cheek to fall above you in a heap, and you're whining, back arching, head tossed back. You are simply beautiful. 

"I love the way you say my name. The sound is quite lovely when it is- Shit-" He chokes, breaking into a gasp when his body rocks against yours, "When it is your lips to sculpt the word, your darling voice to utter the syllables…" 

You tremble, your eyes fluttering shut, your heart thumping so fast you can hear it in your eardrums. In the wake of his hips rolling into yours, you can feel each press with inexplicable sensitivity. His cock pumps in and out of you so tenderly, and every throb of his length pulses through you. 

Softly and carefully, he kisses your forehead. Then, he's leaning back. He pulls you closer in tandem with pressing inside you, filling you. You've never been this sensitive, never felt this loved. You are melting into him, your chest heaving from your heavy sighs, your lips quivering with whines of pleasure: pretty moans breathed all for him. 

Once you feel his fingers grasp your chin, thumb briefly brushing your lips, your eyes begin to flutter. Shadows masquerade as clouds, your vision hazed by blurred edges and flickering lights. The ardent fangs of magic sink into you, trapping you in their whirlwind. Your heart pounds quickly, unrelentingly, thudding hard against the cage of your chest. 

Gale's smile is clear as day, though. Trying your best to gaze at him above you, you feel that rapid heartbeat instead begin to sing. He tilts your head a bit, guiding you towards him. And gently, breathlessly, he murmurs, "Can you look at me, my love?" 

The fuzziness in your field of view starts to fade, and your breath begins to catch. Buried deep inside you, he stops, keeping his hips still while panting hard. Sweat glistens on his skin, his hair is brushing his shoulders, and he reaches to push some strands from his face. He swallows thickly. He squeezes your hand one last time before he lets it go. 

"This," A purple thread of magical light begins to dance between his fingertips, illuminating his face in an amethyst glow, "Is what I wished to show you." 

Adoring and unwavering, his gaze stays on yours, even as he's illustrating shapes with his fingers; movements so quick and effortless, you're barely able to make them out. Swirls here, a triangle there — With one final shape, the magic hums to life. It shimmers through the air with radiance almost palpable, glowing ever brighter, reflecting lavender rays in his eyes. All it takes is an incantation to truly set it ablaze. 

"Ad astra." 

The previous spell loses concentration, and in its place, a new one takes form. 

You hadn't noticed your eyes were closed until the spell had fully finished settling upon you. A new sensation prickles at the surface of your skin, familiar and star-filled. Finally, your gaze focuses above you, after Gale's soft instruction of: Open your eyes. 

You still feel floaty, your senses less acute, your head washed over with warmth. This time though, the illusion is different. You are resting in calm grass and whispering meadows, and when colorful stars fill your vision until you're drowning in their light, the view above you seems completely real. 

Gale is atop you still, but his study remains melted away. Small flickers of candlelight have transformed into brilliant illuminations, leaving him in a backdrop of twinkling starlight and a beautiful aurora. You're gently swept through the makeshift sky. Hues of purple and green and blue wash over you, like how waves might flow over the shore. Light surrounds you, but at the same time, it shines within you. 

In a way, it reminds you of the sight he once made a long time ago, the aurora he created to shimmer through the Shadowlands. Back then, when tensions were high and words were left unspoken, you admired the stars in comfortable silence. So close — You could have reached for his hand next to yours, or closed the distance in mere moments to learn what his lips felt like on your own. But you didn't. The familiarity makes your pulse run wild. 

A canopy of beauty. This is what he once planned to admire on his last night alive, and yet, now he has an abundance of nights to spend by your side. Sprawled out beneath him, you are far more beautiful than anything in the countless shimmering skies. 

"Wonderful," You murmur, speaking under your breath. Your voice is just loud enough for him to hear. You're smiling, your gaze flickering between the messes of stars above you, lights that twinkle steadily with a gentle glow. "Reminds me of the stars from ages ago. This is gorgeous, Gale." 

"Not as gorgeous as you, of course," He replies, the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at his features. His words are smooth, they no longer flicker endlessly through your mind. Rather, when he speaks, his familiar voice captures your heart in the same way it always has. "If only you knew how truly breathtaking you are." 

His heart aches with desire, because as you look up at him — at him, not the illusion, your gaze is on his while the loveliest smile crosses your lips — in your eyes, he sees that same lovely sparkle. 

You're lost in him, for a moment. Gale's expression grows soft as he continues to admire you. When you feel gentle fingertips travel the length of your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, you tremble. A sigh leaves your mouth, his fingers lacing with yours once more. He holds your hand tightly, safely. Gale can't resist, he tips forwards to kiss you; your lips connect, with crackling electricity and still-lingering traces of magic sparking from his mouth to yours. 

Devotion is palpable in the way he kisses you. It quickly turns eager, becoming a tender mess of soft moans and tongue. And at last, everything to remain falls away. 

Heat surges through both your bodies until you're consumed by wildfire. With one more kiss, Gale grips you hard, his hips begin to move. You whine against his mouth as he slowly rocks into you, you're mumbling his name in the form of a plea — The sound only serves to make him more desperate. 

He mutters your name in turn: a low, affectionate utterance. His thrusts take on a deeper pace, as he fucks into you hard enough to make his desk shake — fervent enough to have your heart trembling, love drowning you in heavy depths. 

Your arousal and his drip down your thighs, dirtying the hardwood. It's making a mess, echoing lewd, wet noises with each clumsy movement, the slap of skin against skin sounding particularly soaked each time he pistons into you. Every echo fills his ears, curling through his mind oh-so pleasantly. It would be the most addicting melody he's ever heard, if it weren't for how sweet you sound when you're moaning for him. 

And you're loud, you're mumbling a mess of words he can't quite make out. Your sighs mix with whines, turning sharp each time he eases his cock into you. Gale breathes a shaky breath, fanning warmth over your face, before he's moving to place quick kisses to the corner of your mouth, and then, your jaw. 

His lips brush the column of your neck, where your pulse is racing for him; when his hips rut into yours, you're cooing soft pleas, quietly murmuring, Don't stop. Your back arches, and he adorns you with his tongue and teeth, sucking gently at your supple skin. 

He shouldn't. What would your confidants say, if you crossed paths with them? When you return to Baldur's Gate, what would the guild leaders who respect you, and the fancy patriars who need you think when they happened to see it? They would know he was there, know you are his. Foolishly, dizzyingly, he allows his lips and his mouth to leave a deep mark, an imprint of himself. He doesn't pull back until he's sure the bruise will take. 

You shudder, feeling the ghost of his mouth even once he's pulled away, cold air brushing the saliva he left on your neck and making your nerves twinge. Slow rolls of his body into yours have you shaking, but you're squeezing his hand tightly, your other palm is balling into a fist and you're begging, "Please, faster… Fucking Hells… Give me more." 

Gale sighs. His brows knot, he falls forwards and leans his forehead softly against yours. "For you, I would give the world."

He swallows, he steadies. Then, he places all the world's pleasures in the palms of your hands. 

The weight behind his thrusts, newly desperate and hurried, have him gripping you for leverage: a palm tensed on your waist, fingertips digging into your hip. He grasps your thigh to push it up and apart. His desk is knocking against the wall, the wooden legs squeaking and scraping the floor. 

Your body tenses with building intensity — Building and building and building, threatening to overwhelm you between every movement, until you aren't sure where your high begins, nor where it ends. All you know is you're close. And if he keeps fucking into you like this, filling you nice and deep, nudging against your sweetest spots only he can reach, it won't be long before you're falling apart for him. 

With one last quick kiss to your forehead, your thighs spread apart wider, Gale is propping over you; and Gods, does he look like a mess. Pools of glowing magic paint him in the most vivid hues. His hair is out of place, honey brown strands askew, the faintest pretty streaks of silver reflecting in the starlight. His skin shines with dripping beads of sweat, his chest is heaving, jaw clenched — You can't help but feel he might crumble at the smallest touch. 

So, you unclench your hand. You let your fingertips drift up, and you brush them over his cheek. As you're cupping his face, his shoulders tense, and he doesn't just crumble, he collapses. 

Gale falls into you, leaning his head into your nape. His palm fits between the desk and the arch of your back to hold you even closer to himself. His breathing is rapid, his hand takes on a distinct tremble when another rock of his body against yours has you moaning ragged gasps of his name. 

His name, you're pleading for him to take you — Grinding his teeth together until his jaw hurts, he bucks into you hard, enough to have you fluttering around him, squeezing him like a vice. He chokes back broken gasps of his own, and exhales hot fans of breath over your sensitive skin. You are going to be the death of him. 

"I have always-" Gale starts; he struggles to speak, his voice sounds close to breaking, yet his words drip with an earnestness you find enthralling, "I have always loved you. My sweetheart… Every beat of my heart is yours…" 

Yours. 

Eyes fluttering between open and closed, the aurora around you spins incessantly. You respond in turn, mumbling through fragile gasps for breath, as he works you up to a growing, intensifying peak. 

"I'm yours, Gale," Your fingers tangle in soft hair, gripping and tugging until he's groaning. Pleasure floods your every nerve, and you're a mess around his cock, tumbling through the sea of stars and alluring lights — "I'm yours, I'm yours-" 

"Oh, love-" 

All at once, the spell abruptly snaps, your focus and your senses melding into one in a dizzying, sparkling rush. You're brought back to reality. The heart of his quiet study comes into view again, his walls of books and shelves of artifacts, the colorful lights fading into nothingness. Your form is bathed in warm candlelight, the night sky treading in from his balcony. Cool air dances over you, while the pale moon is hung high in the darkness. 

Ecstasy slams through you, blissfully unfiltered. Everything is messy, perfect, and hopelessly desperate; you grip his hair tight, and his hand harder. Gale pants, his breath sharp and his lungs aching as he fucks you into the desk, pushing you closer and closer to your edge — until even without the aid of magic, you're left seeing stars. 

He is so terribly, utterly in love with you. Every one of those nights where he pushed you away, those moments where he almost left you, when he was possibly the most foolish he's ever been in his entire life — 

A slow, tender press inside you, and you're muttering his name softly once more, adoring it, pleading it. He wants to hear your voice strumming his name over and over, teasing him after his half-hearted attempts to make you laugh, begging for him to give you what you need, because he is the only one who can. Answering with, Yes, Gale, I will, when he asks you to marry him. He can't change the mistakes he's already made, but he can earn your love, and your softness. He can promise to never let you go. Not ever again. 

"I'm here, I have you," Gale mumbles in a shaky tone. He presses a soft kiss onto your nape, he squeezes your hand when your breath begins to hitch. His words are smooth and comforting, they send tingles up your spine, and they have you melting in a way you never have before. 

The edge to your high is right within reach, he's only bringing you closer. Your head won't stop spinning. As he trails kisses from your neck to your jaw, his lips are a touch from the sun, beams of warmth that shudder through you to shine over the surface of your skin. 

"Gale-" You whimper, "Fuck, I'm-" 

He presses into you deeply, gripping your hand, filling you with a thickness you'll never quite get enough of, and you can't help but stutter into a whine. His pelvis shoves against yours, skin against skin, arousal messy and wet and dripping out of you — Your thighs are shaking, and you only need one more breath before you're finding that zenith of pleasure. Warm and perfect against your nape, his words have you taking the final tumble. 

"Come undone for me." 

Your high shatters through you, you're tensing around his sloppy thrusts, your legs are slipping from around him. Your body curls into his, your eyes shutting tight. Desire drowns you, it burns from within you; throat sore, you cry out in loud, desperate moans, and everything melts around you as you let go, cumming for him. 

And Gale, normally so confident, so eloquent, a wizard prodigy, a Goddess' chosen — He buries himself deep inside you, choking down stutters and groans. With a mess of barely coherent pleas of your name, your sweet voice and the feeling of you squeezing him, fluttering in the pleasant aftershocks of your release, has him falling to pieces right there beside you. 

"Please, please, please…" Gale begs, even though he hardly knows what he's begging for. His clumsy hips roll into you with reckless abandon, echoing the sloppiest noises. His voice is broken and fragile, tender in a way you've never heard before: "I love you, I love you…" 

I love you. In this life, and every life to follow. Only to fall in love once more, all over again. 

Gasping, shaking, his body tenses, and when he falls into you, you're left to hopelessly clutch onto his hand and his hair. Pleasure racks through him, his breath getting caught in his lungs. The candles in his study flicker, the branded orb-shaped marking imprinted onto his chest glows. His hips shudder, before they still. His length pulses inside you so hard you can feel it in your core, and heat pools within your body as he fills you, giving you what's left of him. 

It takes a handful of moments for you both to come down. Gale is limp and heavy, pressing against you, his weight pinning you between him and the desk. His palm, resting on the small of your back, runs over your skin in slow, careful circles. Your heart thumps loud in your ears, hard in your chest, so forceful it nearly hurts. His gentle touch makes it slow, until gradually, your composure begins to return. 

I've got you, he's murmuring, the words barely audible in your ringing eardrums, but comforting just the same. Breathe for me, just breathe. 

In, and then out, you inhale, exhale. Gale props above you after a minute or two, and as you blink to chase away the remnants of fuzz in your vision, he comes into your view. He's smiling, because of course he is, strands of his hair sticking out every which way. The sight makes you grin, and you have to hold back your chuckle. Yet, the way he looks at you softens every last shred of your soul. 

His skin is flushed, still sweaty and warm. His gaze is so terribly, persistently gentle, coveting you with endless devotion. It wouldn't be the first time tonight, but you feel revered, like you can almost taste swelling blossoms of love — sweet on the tongue, growing untamed to flourish through your chest. 

Letting go of a sigh, he brushes his thumb over your cheek. You didn't think he could get any softer. But here he is, with a smile that entrances you, and an expression beaming with light itself. When he grasps your chin, pulling you in as he leans forwards, on his gentle lips, you feel the heat of the sun, and taste the calmness of a crisp summer breeze. 

Your heart skips. A sharp spark of electricity — traces of magic, surely — crackles on your mouth when yours brushes his. It zaps you like static, before flowing into you as a steady, dizzying wave. 

Your eyes stay shut. Gale pulls back for a moment. He breathes a small huff, a barely-there laugh. You swear you can feel the smile on his lips when he kisses you again — This time, much deeper, while his fingertips trace the curve of your jaw, and his mouth outlines the depths of his devotion onto yours. 

When he pulls away, he's moving to guide a quick hand behind your head. He supports you, before resting you back against the desk ever-so gently. He hisses slightly as he pulls out of you, adjusting you both. He's sighing with contentment while he grasps your thighs, changing your position to let them hang over the desk's edge more comfortably. 

At last, he props up over you. Still catching his breath, he tries to control the weighted heave of his chest as best he can manage. 

"I love you," Gale admits, his voice noticeably hoarse, but with a clear hint of fondness to it, "Are you alright?" 

"Please, I'm more than alright," You answer. You clear your throat, alleviating some of the dryness, and you roll your shoulders back. The hardwood surface of his desk beneath you suddenly feels a hundred times firmer than before. "You're okay too, aren't you?" 

Gale scoffs playfully, smirking, "Apart from a bit of present exhaustion and a mild ache in the knees, I am definitely, most positively fine. No, better than fine. Fantastic." 

Your eyes narrow, your head tilts curiously, gaze flickering down, and then back up. "And the orb?" 

"The orb? Oh," He huffs, placing a palm over his chest in realization. "Ha, it's behaving alright. Until now, I don't think it has ever felt so… comfortable, if that serves well to describe it. Swear I could almost feel the damn thing purring." 

You breathe a slight chuckle, and with a roll of your eyes, you press your palms to the desk and push yourself up. Gale hurries to wrap a hand around your wrist, placing the other on your back. He helps to pull you, until you're sitting up with your arms stretched to the ceiling. You stretch your back next, arching it forwards, feeling your muscles loosen and your bones pop. 

Gale's brows are suddenly knotted. His lips press into a line, his expression turns conflicted. When your gaze locks with his, you're giving him a slight, pretty smile. 

"What's wrong?" 

You watch as he looks away for a second, snapping his fingers, muttering a string of words under his breath you don't quite catch. He seems pouty, almost guilty; the fireplace in the room's adjacent corner hums to life, breathing much-needed warmth into his study. Your limbs relax, your shoulders untensing. 

"Nothing is wrong, sweetheart. Don't you worry," He reassures, offering you a warm look once his gaze returns to yours. His hand comes to steady on your side, and he squeezes you slightly, "I just… supposed I should offer you an apology. Perhaps it was rude of me not to provide you with more comfort. I promise you, next time, you will be as cushy and cozy as your heart could possibly desire. You'll find my bedroom to be rather pleasant, I'm sure. Have you ever slept on Glamerweave sheets? Hm, actually, I think I'll keep from spoiling the surprise." 

Next time? 

"Come on. It was my idea, you don't have to apologize," You reply through a slight laugh, shifting a bit on his desk, crossing one leg over the other. "Besides, I'm fine, I swear. I've dealt with much more than a little soreness, and I was perfectly comfortable, I'll have you know." Swallowing, you pause for a moment to think. "That was perfect. Truly." 

"Was it? Well, that is… quite lovely to hear, quite lovely indeed. I'm… I'm glad." Gale takes in a slow breath, before letting go of a deep, heavy sigh. Your words make his heart pound. "Gods above. I knew I was doomed, but I think I've only fallen even more in love with you." 

Arms wrapping around his shoulders, your head cocked teasingly, you murmur, "Do you know how hard it is to resist kissing you when you're this terribly sweet?" 

"Really?" His brow crooks. "I wonder how many kisses I could earn if I proposed more than mere sweet words. Sweet touches, perhaps? I could lend you a hand or two, you know. I'm more than willing to offer shoulder rubs, back massages- It wouldn't be right to leave my dearest with tired limbs and such sore muscles, now would it?" 

"On second thought, maybe my back is hurting. A massage sounds lovely." 

Gale grins. He reaches up, brushing his thumb over your cheek, before he pulls you in for a quick, precious kiss. 

"Then your wish is my command, love." His hand continues to hold your cheek tenderly, even once he's pulled back. Forehead close enough to almost rest against yours, he murmurs quietly, smoothly, "Once you are ready, I'll run you a warm, comfortable bath. With bubbles and lavender- Hm, I'm sure I have something around here you can wear, as far as clean clothes are concerned. You may have to make do with a few magically infused robes and garments… but nothing with any lasting effects, I assure you. And if you've worked up an appetite, then-" 

Biting his tongue, abruptly, he stops. His eyes narrow, gaze glancing between you and the floor. 

"I… My apologies," Gale mumbles, his tone weighed down by newfound disappointment, "How impolite. I shouldn't form assumptions, especially when your plans have already been reiterated. I won't keep you. As a matter of fact, I believe the side roads to Baldur's Gate are likely still open, if you'd prefer me to escort you there." 

"Gale, are you kidding?" 

You scoff, squeezing his shoulders and tilting your head; instantly, he feels himself begin to relax, his heart stirring, his nerves settling. You always look at him with such radiant warmth. 

"Running errands back and forth for greedy townspeople can wait," You're continuing, gazing at him through fluttery lashes. "I took care of everything urgent well before I got here. You wouldn't believe the nerves I had leading up to this- I was remarkably tense, but at least it had me working hard to distract myself. Listen, if you're so keen on going back, you're coming with me. Otherwise, I'm staying, okay? For as long as you'll have me." 

Gale swallows. His jaw clenches, his gaze goes soft. His pulse thrums in his throat and runs a mile per minute within his chest, heels pushing off the ground as he chases a burning sense of devotion — 

"You- Are you sure?" He questions, opening his mouth to speak once more, only to have you quickly interrupt him. 

"Of course I'm sure, I've never been more sure of anything. I can't begin to explain how much I've missed you, just- I don't want to be apart from you yet, that's all. Is… is that alright?" 

"Oh, yes, most definitely- You can stay. I would love for you to stay," Gale breathes in response, brushing his palm over the small of your back, holding you gently. Warmth and longing sear through him, echoing the start of something new. "To savor a new wealth of treasured moments with you… To awake, and see you still resting beside me, content and weary-eyed… I'm not sure I deserve to find myself so lucky." 

Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Gale breathes in deeply. "Nevertheless, the night is young. But as for tomorrow, alas, I doubt the academy would approve, in the event of my neglection of scheduled lessons. Best to be up bright and early, you see. We should rest. You, especially." He counts with his fingers, pointing to each one, "You need the aforenamed bath, massage, and to get some much needed sleep. Doubly so, if you are to- uhm, ehem-" 

Gale clears his throat, and as you meet his eyes, you raise a curious brow. Seemingly nervous, he softly mutters, "You wouldn't mind attending the lesson tomorrow to assist me for a second time, would you?" 

All at once, you're grinning. You're laughing slightly to yourself, and you're staring at him cheerfully, with a look he finds impossible not to adore. 

"I'd love to. I had fun today, and I'm sure you have much more to teach. The depths to illusion magic are rather grand. Or so a charming wizard has told me." 

"Yes, and you have merely scratched the proverbial surface. Though, in all likelihood, illusion magic should come rather naturally to you. After all, you have no shortage of firsthand experience," He explains jovially. "But still, do not discredit yourself. You are a wonderful teacher, skilled and proficient in your own right. I'm sure my students would reflect the same sentiment. You are most captivating to them. You're the hero that kept the famous city of Baldur's Gate from falling into ruin. The one who saved my life. My closest, most beloved friend. Perhaps more than that, now." 

"Definitely more," You answer, smirking a bit to hide the warmth to your cheeks. 

"In that case," Gale hums, "I will be sure to introduce you as my partner, from here on out." 

Candles flicker, shimmering like makeshift stars in his quiet study. From the view outside his balcony, the moon glimmers, beaming faint light, as though it was made just to watch over you both. Intimacy ripples between you. Echoing in your ears, you can hear the calm rhythm of waves, the familiar lull of the sea. It's a sound you've grown comfortable with. A moment you wished to dwell in until the inevitable end of time. Perhaps now, that future will be yours. 

You decide to break the brief layer of silence: "Gale?" 

Gale brushes his fingertips from your jaw to your nape, homesickness gnawing at his chest the longer he admires you. His tower was never important to him, Waterdeep couldn't compare. You were always his home. 

"Yes, love?" 

"I'm glad you're here with me." 

Silent for a few moments, he's briefly unsure of what to say. Finally, he breathes a long, thankful sigh, and smiles wide, a sparkle in his gaze. Adoration roots into him, promising to forever grow. 

"I love you. I love you so very much," He admits, cooing, his fingertips caressing your skin; his thumb trails over the faint mark he left on you while he speaks. The imprint of himself. "I will not leave you, that I can most undoubtedly promise. There are a great deal of things I want us to experience. Thousands of moments to live for. You would grace me with the privilege of dying a happy man, if I were to combust right now, in some unfortunate, bittersweet blaze of glory. But I give you my word, I am not planning on letting it happen." 

His gaze goes resolute. Gale presses a palm to his chest, feeling magic thrum steadily, and his heart pound wildly. Still beating, despite everything. Every defiant thump has your name written into it. "This affliction will not take me. We have won against greater evils, and I won't let anything pry us apart. Not when I finally have you." 

Night may have descended, cold air bitter on your skin, but in your chest, you feel the warmth of summer: growing heat, and an exquisite softness. You can't help but let go of a quiet sigh in satisfaction. 

"Now," He's murmuring, standing up straight and taking your hand. He helps you to slide off of his desk, until you're wobbling to unsteady feet, holding onto his arm for balance. "I do believe I've yammered on quite enough. I won't exhaust you with more lengthy pillow talk. You should be given the relaxation you are owed, correct? A bath will only take a few moments to run." 

"Mhm," You reply, gazing up at him, seeming amused. He finds it damn near impossible not to get lost in your eyes. "As long as you're planning on joining me." 

"Joining? Oh, sweetheart. I would be delighted." Gale squeezes your hand, still held in his. He brings it up to his lips, he runs his thumb over your knuckles. He presses an all-too gentle kiss to them, before his fingers lace between the crooks of your own. 

"Come. What remains of tonight is ours." 

You'll smell of lavender and his soap when you crawl into his bed. You'll feel the warmth of his body pressed to yours, his arms around you, your head buried in his chest, and your dreams will be as tender as they are familiar. Your future drawn out, past lifetimes upon lifetimes. 

And once the night bleeds into morning, you will fall for him all over again. 

— 

Waterdeep becomes your new home. 

It isn't long before Gale's tower is strewn with your belongings as well as his. Your old weapons and special artifacts find themselves scattered among tomes, scrolls, and poetry collections. You do manage to return to Baldur's Gate for a while, just to collect your things from the Elfsong and say a couple of goodbyes. You've landed a job as a professor's assistant in Waterdeep, you explain, and you can't be late for your first official day. 

You grow accustomed to the sea salt in your hair, and the way the smell of the ocean soaks into your skin. Gale provides you with your own set of rooms in a secluded corner of his tower. You can watch the waves from your bedroom window, and look out over the city from the view in his library. The days are slow, a calming change of pace from the previous adventures you shared together. Your other companions come to visit you both occasionally, making for a tender reunion. Months go by, but every day is new. A new chance to fall in love. Your new form of a delicate beginning. 

Deep in his bones, Gale still remembers how to cover your weak points. The signs you show when you're closer to crumbling than you're letting on, the feeling of your spells bleeding into his when they combine on the battlefield. He believes those times, those hardships, those perils, will be ones he could never forget — and yet, why would he want to? 

They're reminders of all he has to be grateful for. Mementos of when he first fell for you. You're both safe, you no longer have to fret over dark histories, or worry about protecting one another. For once, you can indulge in a life more tender, and much more forgiving. 

Gale learns what you prefer to have for breakfast, what seasonings you favor for supper, and how you like your coffee when he prepares it for you at sunrise. Between days spent at the academy and endless lesson planning, practicing spells and grading assignments, he makes what free moments you have seem special. There's dates, picnics. Quiet, simple moments that mean the entire world. 

Your head tends to rest in his lap when he's reading; sometimes aloud, his smooth voice lulling you into enveloping comfort. When you fall asleep, limbs tangled, resting on his chest, you relish in every potent thrum of his heartbeat. 

He leaves you love notes on shared grocery lists. Poems he's written for you are left on your bedside table, folded neatly, sealed with wax. You wind up keeping each one. 

Eventually, he's able to take you to all his favorite places in Waterdeep, the extravagant, and the plain. You've no need to introduce yourself, when everyone already seems to know you. 

The wizard is star-struck every time he drones on about you, the regulars at The Yawning Portal explain. Especially once he's had far too much to drink. 

I shouldn't tell you he's planning to propose, he's quite excited about the whole thing, the elderly owner of his favorite bookstore tells you. Be sure to act surprised. 

On the days where you don't accompany him, when he returns from a long afternoon spent at the academy, he's rushing upstairs to greet you. He pulls you into a long, tender hug, one you wish would last forever. His touch breathes new life into your scars, his voice becomes your favorite daily melody. In the wake of every night you spend entwined, you find yourself melting into him, further becoming one another's fatal weakness. When he holds you for a little too long, squeezing you tight and hiding faint tears in the crook of your neck, you feel loved, like you never have before. 

Soft and perfect, you are home. 

Mornings meld into tendays which bleed into months. You treasure it all, with unending adoration. The Gods didn't bless you with this, you carved your own path. You forged your own temple to be made holy in. Before you know it, your heart and soul are undoubtedly his, and on a day no different than the others, Gale is taking you somewhere you've never been before. 

Hands clasped, fingers entwined, he's bringing you to a height above the city, a cliff between the grand mountain and the edge of the sea. Wind runs through your hair. You rest your arms on the stone railing, and sink into the beauty of the sparkling ocean, sunlight glittering on white, foamy waves. He shows you the view of the city below, your city, and his, as the sun dips into the horizon — Although, it seems the only thing he can keep his eyes on is you. 

You're turning just in time to catch him staring. Gale laughs awkwardly in the beat of awkward silence. He mumbles a quick response when you ask if he's alright, offering you an utterance of, Nothing, you're just beautiful. He smiles wider as you offer him a genuine grin and a playful roll of your eyes. Soon, it becomes quiet enough to hear your own heartbeat, prancing loudly through your eardrums. The soft sound of the ocean echoes within you. 

Gale takes a slow, steady breath, catching your attention with a call of your name. This time, when you turn towards him, it's to watch him slowly lower down onto one knee. 

The silver ring he pulls from his jacket pocket was his mother's. It sparkles off of the sun's fading rays, a poem engraved on the inside in elegant script, the surface adorned in sapphire and sunstone. Your heart skips a few beats in your chest. 

You can hardly focus on his words, his vows and his confessions. But you do notice the tenderness to his expression as he glances up at you, misty-eyed, the breeze drifting through his ash-dappled hair; in this moment, everything feels right. And as he asks you to marry him, you're kneeling down as well and you're throwing your arms around his shoulders. You lean your head into his nape, you hold him as tight as you can manage, and you utter just the words he was hoping to hear. 

He is perfectly, endlessly yours. 

You say yes. 

[ nsfw Patreon ]

Wanted (BloodBound)

Samantha explores the world through a new perspective as she gets involved with Adrian Raines, one of the members of the Vampires Council, and Jax Matsuo, leader of the Clanless vampires. [Series playlist]

Warning: This series contains mature content (detailed description of sex scenes, blood drinking, blood kink, violence and death). Reader discretion is advised.

Against The Rules 

Sucker For Pretty Faces

Synesthetic

Night stroll

Favorite Person To Save 

Dangerous Things 

Things She Will Regret: Part 1 - Part 2

Mistakes And Chain Reactions: Part 1 - Part 2

Repercussions

Breakdown

Two Sides Of A Breakup (Lily’s POV) 

Giving In Part 1 - Part 2

Making It Right ✨ new ✨

A Keeper

Playtime

What She Wants/What He Needs

Fulfilling Her Whims

Masterlist

October Sun

you had a secret. one that you'd been sworn to keep since gurgling your first words. you hadn't planned on making your abilities known, but when devilishly handsome Wally Clark—died October 1983—accidentally reveals that your classmate and friend is among the community of ghosts haunting your high school, you throw caution to the wind. suddenly, you find yourself completely immersed in the mystery of Maddie's death while also at the mercy of a wayward, lust-connection between yourself and Wally, desperate to keep your head above water as your connection to the spiritual world is tested.

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

below is the complete list of chapters of October Sun (Wally Clark x fem!reader). you can also find all content related to October Sun HERE and it is also available on AO3.

~ 🧡👻

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10

PART 11 | PART 12 | PART 13 | PART 14 | PART 15

PART 16 | PART 17 | PART 18 | PART 19 | PART 20

PART 21 | PART 22 | PART 23 | PART 24 | PART 25

PART 26 | PART 27 | PART 28 | PART 29 | PART 30

Arabesque; sebastian sallow | pt3 (m)

pairing: sebastian sallow x ballet!reader(f)

genre: strangers (to friends) to lovers

warnings: all characters are 18+!, angst, lots and lots of longing tension, smut, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, kissing, begging, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, very lovely dovey at the end:)

word count: 12k

chapter synopsis: A misunderstanding between you and Sebastian breaks out. After silence from your end, tensions reach a breaking point as you confront each other, emotions raw and unfiltered. Amidst the turmoil, you both grapple with trust and forgiveness, seeking to mend what has been fractured.

other notes: ahh the last chapter! this is the first time i've written proper smut. i hope you all enjoy reading :) feedback is always appreciated

links: ao3, masterlist

[read on ao3]

01 | 02 | 03

The soft, ambient glow of the Room of Requirement bathed the space in a gentle light. You slowly blink your eyes open, adjusting to the morning rays of sun shining through the glass ceiling. You feel the comforting weight of an arm draped around you, soft light snores the only noise you can hear. Beside you on the couch, Sebastian is asleep, his hair tousled and eyes closed. The warmth of his body next to yours is a soothing presence, and the quiet hum of the room seems to wrap you in tranquillity.

Last night's memories washes over you, recalling the intense look on Sebastian's face as he brought you to ecstasy. Now, as you watch him sleep, that same face was softened and relaxed. The dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks stands out against his pale skin, adding a boyish charm. His eyelashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks, and his lips were slightly parted. The contrast between the fierce, almost predatory aura he had exuded last night and his gentle, vulnerable state now struck you deeply, making your heart swell with affection.

You gently move his arm and try to sit up, but he tightens his hold, drawing you back in. He groans softly in your ear, stirring in his sleep. Slowly, he opened his eyes, gazing down at you with a sleepy warmth before closing them again with a smirk.

“Trying to escape?” he murmurs, his voice deep and husky as he pulls you closer. Your heart flutters at the intimate proximity.

“We have class soon, Sebastian. We’re going to be late if we don’t get up,” you whisper, though you couldn't help but savour the warmth of his embrace.

“Fuck class, you need rest.” he groans, nuzzling his face into your neck and tightening his hold. His breath tickles your skin, sending shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile at his reluctance to let the moment end.

“My ankle is fine, really. And I wouldn’t want you to miss class either!”

“Why not? I can stay here and take care of you instead, just like I did last night.” his voice is low and teasing, filled with a playful tenderness. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The memory of last night’s passion mingles with the present warmth, making you feel cherished in his hold.

His kiss is a blend of sleepiness, affection, and longing. His hands, strong and possessive, press against your back, drawing you closer as if he can't get enough of you. The heat between you grows in intensity as his touch sets your skin ablaze. His fingers trail down your body, lingering at your hips before squeezing them firmly. Your bodies seem to meld together, fuelled by an intense desire that ignites with every touch. As his slender fingers slip beneath your shirt, tracing delicate patterns onto your skin, a shiver runs down your spine. You can feel his hardness pressing against you, mirroring the raw need reflected in his touch. With each passing moment, the fire within you burns brighter, consumed by the passionate connection between you both. He let out a soft groan as he feels you press into him. His grip on your hip tightens slightly and his kisses become more needy, more desperate as his desire for you grows. You feel the urge to linger in the moment, his closeness and care tugging at your heartstrings. Yet, a part of you knows that cutting class was not what you both need, especially with Sebastian already racking up a fair share of detentions.

“As much as I’m—mhmm—enjoying this, we should really get to class.”

He pulls away from the kiss, and looks at you, a hint of disappointment in his expression. Tracing his fingers along your jawline, he lets out a dramatic huff and takes a moment to study your face. "I guess you're right. Professor Weasley might actually have my head this time." You laugh as he reluctantly releases you from his embrace. "But don't think for a second that this is over," he adds with a playful smirk, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

As you both sit up on the couch, he gently examines your ankle, making sure that it wasn’t sore or swollen. His touch is gentle yet thorough as he checks.

"How does it feel? Any pain or swelling?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You smile warmly at his attentiveness. “Sebastian, I’m really okay,” you reassure him, appreciating his overprotectiveness. “It feels much better already, thanks to you.”

He studies your face for a moment, searching for any hint of discomfort. Satisfied, he nods slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Okay, if you're sure. Just... promise me that you’ll let me know if you need anything, alright?"

“I’ll take it easy, I promise,” you reply earnestly, meeting his gaze with a reassuring smile. He nods in response, his worry easing visibly. Extending a hand, he helps you to stand up.

As you finish dressing your own attire, you notice Sebastian’s tie was slightly askew. Stepping closer, you reach up to straighten it, your fingers deftly smoothing the fabric. His eyes follow your movements, watching you with a mixture of amusement and affection.

“You know,” you remark with a teasing grin, “we really should be more careful. Wouldn’t want Deek to walk in on us.”

“You’re right,” he agrees, a playful glint in his eyes. “We should be more careful. But it's hard to resist when you're so damn tempting.” he tugs you closer by the waist, his face burying in your neck, peppering you with playful kisses that made you giggle.

"Gods, I love hearing you laugh like that. It's my favourite sound in the world. Almost as good as you moaning my nam-,”

“Alrightttt, Mr. Casanova! Let’s go before we're late.” you chuckle, playfully tugging him towards the door.

As you leave the Room of Requirement, a wave of gratitude washes over you. Sebastian is guarding your secrets and offers you his unwavering support. The memories of your shared moments, particularly from yesterday, remains raw and vulnerable in your mind. His touch and words makes you feel cherished, desired, and completely alive — emotions you hadn't felt in quite some time.

The two of you stroll through the corridors side by side, engaged in conversation about the upcoming Charms class test and weekend plans. As you both walk, you notice more eyes on you than usual, lingering stares that made you increasingly uneasy.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his brow furrowing as concern replaces the usual sparkle in his eyes.

“Surely you’ve noticed people talking about us,” you reply softly, feeling the weight of the gossip as you glance around at the hushed conversations and curious glances directed your way.

He rolls his eyes dismissively. “I don’t pay attention to all that crap. What exactly are they saying?” As you approach a quieter section of the hallway, the usual bustling of students seem to quiet around you.

“That...we’ve been quite close...” you say, feeling the heat of embarrassment cover your cheeks.

"Close, huh?” Sebastian raises an eyebrow at your words, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I suppose that's one way to put it. Though, 'close' is really an understatement, don't you think?" He teases, leaning in closer with a cheeky grin.

If you weren’t red before, you were definitely red now. You glance around nervously to make sure no one was eavesdropping before playfully tiptoeing up to him. With a quick peck on Sebastian’s cheek, you grin mischievously.

“Bye Sebastian!” You quickly say as you dash off in the direction of your class.

His eyes widen in surprise at your boldness. He was tempted to grab your arm and pull you back, but you were already gone, disappearing down the corridor like a fleeting dream.

She’s so cute, he thinks to himself, a soft smile playing on his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief, before turning and making his way to class, the warmth of your kiss lingering on his skin.

Entering the classroom, Sebastian notices the same unusual buzz of whispered conversations that had trailed him through the corridors. He choses to ignore it as he makes his way to his seat, where Ominis greets him with a knowing look.

“Ah, there you are. Where have you been? You weren't in your bed this morning,” Ominis remarks with a raised eyebrow.

Sebastian shrugs, pretending to be nonchalant. “Oh, you know, just had some things to take care of.”

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound shady at all. As long as you’re not getting yourself into more trouble than you’re already in. But anyways,” Ominis leans in closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Have you heard the rumours? About her?” Ominis mentions your name. Sebastian raises an eyebrow. Ominis was never one to meddle in the gossip around Hogwarts, so this was out of the ordinary for him. “About me and her? Well, yes, I heard about it this morning, and yes we have been getting closer-,”

“No Sebastian. Not about that. Something about her secretly practising ballet? Apparently, her mother passed away and it has something to do with that. And that she’s muggle-born? Don’t know where these rumours have come from.”

Sebastian’s stomach drops. The whispers this morning weren't about the two of them — they were solely about you. His eyes scan the room, taking in the clusters of students whispering. Anger surges within him. How could this have gotten out? You have been so careful, and the only person you have told was Sebastian himself. His mind is racing, recalling the tender moments you have shared, the trust you have placed in him. The thought of your vulnerability being exposed like this fills him with a mix of rage and helplessness. He wants to find the source of the rumours and put an end to them immediately.

"Where did you hear this?" his voice was edged with frustration as he turns to face Ominis.

Ominis shrugs. "I overheard it from some students this morning. But everyone’s talking about it like it's common knowledge now."

Sebastian clenches his fists, his mind racing with thoughts of how this could have happened. His heart sinks, imagining that you might have already heard people talking and suspected him of being the source. He needs to find you and set things straight, to reassure you that he has not betrayed your trust. 

"I need to go find her," he mutters, more to himself than to Ominis. His chair scraps loudly against the floor as he pushes it back and stands up abruptly, striding towards the door with a sense of urgency.

“But Sebastian, class is about to sta-,” Ominis begins, but his words fall on deaf ears. Sebastian is already out the door and walking towards the class you are in. As he approaches the grand hall, he spots Natsai pacing outside the classroom door, her expression wrought with concern. Upon seeing Sebastian hurrying towards the class with a distressed look on his face, she steps into his path.

"Sebastian, whatever you're planning to do, it's not a good idea," she pleads, placing her hand in front of him.

“I need to see her, get out of my way.”

“She’s not in class, she left a few minutes ago.”

“What? Where is she?” His voice is full of anxiety.

“I don’t know. She just stormed out, crying. I have just sent her an letter.”

Sebastian grabs his hair in frustration. She couldn’t have gone far, maybe she’s in the Room of Requirement, he thinks desperately. Panic surges through him, not knowing where you have gone or how you are feeling right now. He can’t understand how this could have gotten out. He has been so careful, guarding your secret with the utmost care. He would never tell a soul. The thought that you might believe he has betrayed you tore at his heart.

Determined to find you, he turns on his heel and sprints towards the Room of Requirement, hoping against hope that you would be there. As he runs through the corridors, his mind races with thoughts of how to reassure you, to prove that he has been keeping your trust. He couldn't bear the thought of you feeling alone and betrayed.

But once he reaches there, all he finds is a depressing blank wall staring back at him. He drops his shoulders in defeat, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on him. Leaning against the cold wall, he rakes a hand through his hair, trying to think of where you might have gone.

He needs to talk to you as soon as possible. Finding a quiet corner, he pulls out a piece of parchment and a quill, and begins to write. He attaches it to the leg of his owl, whispering your name to the bird. As it takes off into the sky, he whispers to himself.

“I’ll make this right.”

”Confringo!”

The poacher is thrown backwards from your spell, crashing into a makeshift tent. The sounds of battle echoes around the camp as you move swiftly, dodging curses and returning fire with precision.

You need this. The adrenaline, the focus, the distraction from the whispers and stares back at Hogwarts. The betrayal you feel stings deeply, and throwing yourself into action is the only way you can numb the pain.

Ducking behind a crate, you take a moment to catch your breath. The exhaustion from the past few days weighed heavily on you. You needed to get away from the paranoia, fearing it would consume you entirely, just as it had after your mother died. And fighting Rookwood’s Gang is a really good distraction from it all. You peek around the corner, spotting another group of poachers closing in.

“Expelliarmus!” you cry out, disarming one of the poachers before he could cast a spell at you. Another poacher charges at you, and with a swift movement, you dodge his attack and hit him with a stunning spell.

Your thoughts drift back to Sebastian, the charming Slytherin you had trusted with your secret. The anger and hurt flares up again, fuelling your determination. Why would he do this? I thought I could trust him. You fight back tears as you conjure Protego , deflecting another curse aimed at you.

As the last poacher falls, you stand amidst the chaos, panting heavily. The camp is silent now, save for the crackling of a few lingering fires. You lower your wand, exhaling deeply, trying to steady your racing heart. This was supposed to be a distraction, but the pain still remains.

Pain. The pain you had gotten used to when practising ballet was different to the pain you are feeling now. This pain is draining. This pain is palpable, a crushing weight that threatens to suffocate you. This pain is a deep, hollow ache that echoes through your whole being, leaving you feeling hollow and wanting to disappear.

You glance around the camp, making sure there is no more threats. Satisfied, you slump down on a nearby log, finally allowing yourself a moment of rest. The physical battle is over, but the emotional one rages on inside you.

You trusted him.

---

It’s been a week now. You have been trying to avoid walking around Hogwarts, and even persuaded Nurse Blainey that you have a bad case of the flu and got out of class for a week. Instead, you are either outside fighting duellists and poachers at night or dancing ballet. Right now, you have Verdi’s Dies Irae echoing through the room as you dance with relentless vigour, the pulsating rhythm ringing in your ears and driving your movements.

You have received many letters from Natsai and Poppy, both making sure that you are alright. You manage to send them one letter each, explaining that you need space, knowing they deserve to know. However, most of your letters came from Sebastian. You are pretty sure you have seen his owl more than your own this past week. Despite the stack of unopened letters, you can’t bring yourself to read any of them. You fear that the lies he may have conjured to justify his part in this drama, unwilling to confront the painful words they might contain.

The music comes to a stop as you finish on an Ecarté pose. You stand up straight and exhale deeply, the week-long exhaustion taking over your body. Your limbs ache from the exertion of your activities, cuts and bruises mark your skin from the fights. You definitely don’t look your best.

Your eyes drift to the stack of letters from Sebastian, arranged in a sad pile on the table. You reach out and hold one, running your finger along the edge of the envelope. At your angriest, you considered burning them all, desperate to erase him from your life and forget everything about him. But something held you back.

The room feels empty without his presence. Even Deek has inquired when ‘Mister Sebastian’ might return. Whenever he was here with you, his warmth filled the space, whether he was showing you the latest book he stole from the restricted section or him chasing your Puffeskin around with a grin on his face. He brought joy into your sunken life. And now the joy is gone.

Your gaze lands on the velvet couch, the same couch where you shared a passionate moment together. It feels like a lifetime ago since you felt the warmth of his body next to yours, his intoxicating scent lingering in the air, a blend of musk and cloves. The memory of his closeness, the way he whispered your name with such tenderness, now feels both achingly vivid and painfully distant. Each glance at the empty space makes you long for his touch, leaving you with a bittersweet ache in your heart.

You sink onto the couch, curling your knees up to your chest, unable to hold back the flood of tears any longer. The sobs come in waves, echoing through the empty room. In this moment, all you can do is surrender to the sadness that fills your shattered heart.

---

Sitting in potions class, Sebastian’s mind is a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. His arm on the table props up his head as he stares blankly into the air. It has been a week since he last saw or heard from you, though it feels like an eternity. He cannot shake off the emptiness inside him. He has tried everything - passing by the Room of Requirement, lingering outside your common room, even pestering Natsai for any news - but she tells him to give you space. All he wants is to make sure you are okay.

”Sebastian,” Ominis starts, his voice gentle but firm. “I know you’re not in the right headspace, but try to pay attention to class today. I’m worried about you,”

Sebastian's gaze fixes on the table across him, at your empty seat. His mind is far away from Potions class and every word spoken by Ominis seems to drift past him. His heart aches with a longing he couldn't shake, a deep yearning to see you, to know that you are safe and well. The silence from your end after the countless letters he has sent you pressed heavily on his chest.

The classroom buzzes with quiet chatter as students prepare for the lesson. The clinking of glass vials and the rustling of parchment filled the room, but to Sebastian, it’s all just background noise. Then, just as class is about to begin, the door creaks open.

The room falls silent as you walk in. All eyes turn towards you, but Sebastian's heart leaps at the sight of you. He couldn't believe his eyes. There you stand, but you look nothing like the person he remembered.

Your appearance is haunting. Dark circles painted shadows under your eyes, matching the fatigue etched deeply into his own face. Your usually lively complexion is now pale and drawn, making you appear almost fragile. Your gaze, once filled with warmth and determination, now holds a hollow emptiness. He can't bear to see you like this. This isn’t the girl he knows.

You pause at the entrance of the classroom, already aware of the stares directed your way. As you look around, your eyes meet Sebastian's, and for a moment, the room seems to fade away, leaving only the intensity of his gaze on you. His eyes reflect a mix of emotions, mirroring your own inner turmoil. But as quickly as the moment comes, your gaze falters and move to the floor.

”Ah, welcome back. Please find your seat,” Professor Sharp greets you.

You greet him back with a nod as you walk past and sit at your station. Your back is turned towards Sebastian, but your heart still aches intensely, the unresolved feelings gnawing at you. You couldn't bear to get through the lesson with his eyes on you, knowing that his gaze would only make it harder to concentrate.

Throughout the lesson, Sebastian found it impossible to concentrate. His eyes keep drifting back to your figure, noticing how you mechanically followed the instructions without your usual enthusiasm. He wants nothing more than to reach out to you, to comfort you in any way he can.

"Since you've been away, Professor Weasley and I have decided to help you catch up on last week's work," Professor Sharp announced, addressing you directly. "There are ingredients in the storage room in my office for you to create an Erudus potion. Retrieve them and complete the assignment.”

You thank him and rise from your seat, making your way towards his office, aware of Sebastian’s eyes burning the side of your head as you walk past him. Inside Professor Sharp's office, you spot the storage room on the right and open the door. It is dimly lit, shelves lined with an assortment of potions and ingredients. You try to remember which ones you need and start grabbing them. 

As you are about to reach for the last ingredient on the top shelf, you hear the door creak open behind you. Instinctively, you spin around and come face to face with the one boy you were dreading to see. Sebastian stands in the doorway of the storage room, his eyes locked on you. His presence fills the small space, his expression a mix of uncertainty and determination.

"Hey," he begins to say softly, voice tinged with worry. "I... I've been so worried about you.”

Your throat tightens, and you struggle to find your voice against the jumble of emotions swirling inside you. You turn away, attempting to compose yourself as your heart races. His hand hovers for a moment, as if he is unsure whether to reach out to you or not before he withdraws it to his side with a sigh.

“Please say something.”

Anger, hurt, and a flicker of longing all surges within you. "Sebastian," you start, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I need space.”

“I know. I know. I’ve just missed you. Are you okay? That’s a stupid question to ask, of course you’re not-”

"I'm fine, I just…you should leave.”

"I-I can't just leave," he pleads. "I haven't seen you all week. You haven’t been responding to my letters.”

He moves a step closer to you, body pressed against your back. "I can't bear the thought of losing you.” he continues, his voice cracking with emotion. You close your eyes as he speaks softly near your ear, his warmth stirring the memories of shared moments and affection you had before all of this chaos.

"I miss you so much, sweetheart," he whispers with longing. "I miss your touch, your smile, your voice." His hand traces down your arm with a feather-light touch, sending a shiver through you. The sensation is electric, a reminder of the closeness you once cherished. His fingers leave a trail of warmth in their wake, making your heart ache for the intimacy you’ve been missing.

“Sebastian…” you trail off, torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to give in to his affection.

“Look at me,” he begs, the desperation palpable in each word.  “Please. I need to see your face.”

His warm breath brushes against the nape of your neck, leaving you feeling like a pile of jelly. You wrestle internally with the desire to push him away and the longing to surrender to the comfort he offers.

“Just hear me out. I never tol—,”

“I need time Sebastian.” you interrupt, your voice trembling as you try to maintain your composure.

“But—” his hand tightens on your arm, his desperation seeping through his grip.

“Please. I need time to think.” you turn slightly, enough to catch a glimpse of the pain in his eyes, but not enough to fully face him.

He hesitates to let go of his touch on your arm, but reluctantly pulls back. The air between you is thick with tension, a silence hanging between you both. You feel him shift behind you, his presence still palpable and overpowering. His arm stretches pass you, grabbing the last ingredient you need from the top shelf.

"Here," he says softly, passing the ingredient to you.

You glance at the glass jar before taking it from him, your fingers accidentally brushing against his. The brief contact sends a jolt through you, reigniting the turmoil of feelings you have been trying to suppress.

He steps back, and the absence of his warmth hits you immediately. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he turns and quietly leaves the office. As the door closes behind him, you lean your head against the shelves, the weight of the past week crashing down on you once more. You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, and wonder how everything had spiralled so quickly out of control.

Hastily, you return to your station and add the ingredients to create a vial of the Erudus potion. You show it to Professor Sharp, who applauds your skills before dismissing the class. Hurriedly, you tidy up your work area and leave the classroom, avoiding all eye contact as you feel his eyes follow your every move.

The gnawing emptiness inside Sebastian grows bigger as he watches you walk out. It’s the kind of emptiness that only your presence can fill. He hates the distance, the silence, the pain in your eyes. Right now, all he can do was give you the space you asked for, even if it tore him apart inside.

---

The sun shines brightly as you sit on the soft grass in the vivarium. Your Puffskein lays comfortably in your lap, its fur soft and comforting under your fingers as you gently stroke it. The little beast snuggles closer, a content purr coming out. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun and the gentle rhythm of your pet’s purring soothe your troubled mind.

That day in the storage room, the image of Sebastian's piercing stare, the closeness of him haunts your mind. Going to class was going to be a struggle, you knew that, but you can't afford to neglect your studies for longer. Yet, the sight of him standing in front of you left you shaken to your core. You yearn to know what he had to say, but you weren't emotionally ready to hear it just yet.

You sigh softly, your fingers still gently petting the beast in your lap. "I wish things were simpler," you murmur to yourself. Your Puffskein responds with a comforting purr.

Interrupting your thoughts, a familiar voice breaks through. “Miss, Deek apologises for disturbing you, but Deek wishes to discuss something with you.”

You open your eyes and glance up, meeting Deek's concerned look. ”Yes of course. Is everything okay?”

Deek hesitates before speaking. "Deek fears that Deek may have made a grave mistake," he confesses.

Your heart skips a beat, sitting up straighter. "What's wrong?”

“Well, you see, at your suggestion, Deek has been redecorating the paintings in the atrium. Deek moved one into the hallway outside, and it seems that this particular painting has spoken to a passing student about your ballet.”

Your breath is caught in your throat at Deek's words. Realisation hits you like a ton of bricks. The secrecy you have tried so hard to maintain wasn’t spread by Sebastian, it was one of your annoying moving paintings? The whole week you had internally blamed Sebastian for this whole chaos, avoiding him and disregarding him. And now you find out that it was all because of a mere painting? Gods, you just want to slap yourself.

“Who did the painting tell?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising anxiety.

“Deek knows its a Gryffindor student, but did not see the student’s face clearly. Deek is truly sorry Miss, Deek should have told you sooner,” he replies hesitantly.

You nod, trying to process the revelation. "Thank you, Deek. Please keep a close watch on the paintings from now on.”

Deek nods earnestly. "Of course, Miss. Deek will ensure this doesn't happen again."

As Deek leaves, you lean back against the grass, your mind whirling with a mix of relief and regret. You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of clarity settling over you, but the guilt lays heavy on your shoulders. You gently set your beast aside and stand from the grass.

As you make your way back inside the atrium, your gaze drifts towards the unopened letters arranged on the table.

You hesitate for a moment, your fingers hovering over the envelope at the top of the pile. The urge to finally confront the words battled against the lingering fear of what they might contain. Yet, you know you owed it to both yourself and Sebastian to hear his side of the story, to understand his feelings and intentions that have been so heavily clouded by your assumptions.

With a deep exhale, you pick up the first letter, carefully breaking the seal. Unfolding the parchment, your eyes scan the familiar handwriting, each word resonating with sincerity and longing.

Sebastian's letters are filled with heartfelt apologies, expressions of concern, and a desperate plea for forgiveness. Reading the words on the parchment, you feel a pang of guilt for shutting him out without giving him the chance to explain. Tears well up in your eyes as you realise the depth of his feelings, the hurt he had to endure during your week of silence. With each subsequent letter, Sebastian's voice grew stronger, his vulnerability laid bare on the page. He reiterates time and again that he was not the one responsible for spreading the gossip. You had just caused unnecessary pain.

Now sat on the cold floor with ripped envelopes around you, your fingers tremble slightly as you break the seal of the latest letter he has sent, and unfold the parchment.

My little ballerina,

These past few days without you have been agonising. Every moment feels like an eternity, filled with thoughts of you and the ache of not knowing where we stand.

I want you to know that I respect your need for space. I understand the turmoil you must be feeling, and I would give anything to ease your pain. If you need time to sort through everything, please take it. But know this, I will wait for you, patiently and unwaveringly.

It tears me apart to think that you might believe I could betray your trust. The rumours about you were not from me, nor would I ever entertain such thoughts. You are the light of my life, the beating of my heart, and I would protect you with everything I have.

I love you, more deeply than words can convey. The thought of losing you is unbearable. But I will wait, for as long as it takes, because you are worth every second of the wait. You are my soulmate, my everything, and I am here, waiting with open arms and a heart full of love.

Please, sweetheart, remember this: I am thinking of you constantly, and longing for the day when I can hold you close again. Know that my love for you grows stronger with each passing moment.

With all the love in my heart,

Sebastian

You feel all the breath knocked out of you. His words cut through the numbness that has clouded your mind for days. Hot tears run down your cheeks as you realise the depth of his love and commitment. He said he loves you— those three words tie you to him, regardless of the recent mayhem between you. In that moment, the walls you have built around your heart begin to crumble.

You long to reach out to him, to feel his comforting embrace around you. As the letter lays in your hands, you know that you need to see him immediately, to look into his eyes and hear his voice filled with the tenderness he had poured into these words.

You know what you have to do next. You pick up your quill and start writing a quick message.

Sebastian,

Meet me by the floating violins in the DADA tower. We need to talk.

Gathering his letters, you make your way there, determined to find Sebastian, knowing that it will take time and effort from both of you to rebuild what has been broken.

You floo to the tower, striding your way in the direction of the soft strains. As you approach the violins, you notice a few people casually gathered around, mingling with each other. Among them, you spot Natsai sitting on a nearby couch. She does a double-take, her eyes widening in surprise as she realises it's you. Quickly, she stands up and rushes over, wrapping you in a tight, heartfelt hug.

“Thank Merlin! I haven’t seen you in ages. Are you okay?” she asks, concern etched in her voice.

”I’m sorry for being so distant, Natsai. I didn’t mean to...” you feel so guilty. She shakes her head at your words.

”Don’t apologise,” she interrupts gently, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I know you needed time to heal, but I hope you do know I’m here for you.” She holds your hands in hers.

”What brings you here?” she inquires, her gaze searching yours.

”I’m meeting Sebastian,” you admit quietly.

She looks at you with a knowing expression. “Finally! He’s been nonstop asking about you, you know.”

You nod slowly in shame. "I feel so guilty, I just hope he’ll listen" you confess, the weight of the past week's emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

"He will," Natsai assures you with conviction. "Sebastian cares deeply about you. He's been waiting for this moment."

With a hesitant smile, you thank Natsai for her support. "It doesn’t look like he’s here yet. I’ll just wait for him and-,"

“Well, well, if it isn’t our secret ballerina,” A voice behind you drawls out, the tone dripping with mockery.

You turn at the disruption to see Leander Prewett sauntering over, his posture smug and his grin oozing with tease. His equally childish friends follow closely behind him, chuckling under their breath.

“Are you ready to perform your pirouettes for us?” His friends snicker behind him.

“Excuse me?” you reply coolly, attempting to keep your composure. You really didn’t need this to happen right now.

“Oh, don’t play coy,” Leander sneers, leaning in closer. You lean back, irritated at his presence. “Word travels fast in Hogwarts. Especially when the moving paintings gossip. Who knew you had such... quirky hobbies?”

You feel your cheeks burn with anger. So he is the  Gryffindor student your stupid painting has indiscreetly revealed your secret to. The surrounding students have begun to take notice, their curiosity piqued by the conversation between you both.

You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure despite the rising anger bubbling inside you. Natsai stands by your side supportively, and you’re thankful someone you trust is with you.

"I don't need to explain myself to you, Leander," you reply evenly. You are exhausted by all the stares and whispers swirling around you this past week. Enough is enough. "My interests are my own."

Leander's grin widens, clearly enjoying that you are bothered. "Oh, but it's so amusing to see the prim and proper fifth year hiding a secret." He pesters. “Especially a Muggle-born like you. Heard your mum kicked the bucket, didn't she? Shame she couldn't magic herself out of that one.”

His friends cackle at the jab, their laughter echoing around you, amplifying the humiliation. The surrounding whispers grows louder at his words, spreading like wildfire through the gathered students. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms, struggling to maintain your restraint. How dare he bring your mother into this? Frustrated tears fill your eyes, threatening to come out.

As you open your mouth to refute Leander’s insults, he pulls you by your wrist, bringing you closer to him. You freeze in surprise, not expecting him to do that. You can smell his awful cologne and immediately try to get away from his grip.

”Why don’t we go somewhere quieter? Maybe you could put on a cute outfit and dance for me—,”

Before you can lash out at him, a fist connects squarely with Leander’s nose. You gasp out loud, and so did everyone else in that room. The force of the punch sends Leander stumbling backwards, his taunts cut short by a yelp of surprise and a hand to his nose. You could’ve sworn you heard something crunch.

Sebastian appears beside you, his expression stormy and chest heaving. Leander’s friends, frozen and stunned, stare in disbelief at Sebastian, who stood protectively in front of you.

"Don't you EVER speak to or touch her like that again," Sebastian growled, his voice low and dangerous as he jabs a finger in Leander’s direction to emphasise his threat.

“FUCK! You broke my nose, Sallow!” He screams on the floor in pain, holding his bloody nose.

You stand there in shock, gaping at Sebastian, then at Leander, and back to Sebastian again. Your expression was probably like a fish, mouth opening and closing in disbelief. The muscles in his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, now blaze with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. It was clear that he is seething with fury, his entire demeanour a stark contrast to the calm and composed boy you knew. His hands balls into fists at his sides, trembling slightly with restrained anger.

Sebastian’s focus is now on you as he turns to face you, his eyes softening briefly before rage fills them once more. He takes your arm in a firm grip and starts leading you away from the gathering crowd of students.

”Sebastian! Let me go!” You strain against his firm grip, but it's futile; he's much stronger than you. He says nothing, his jaw clenched tightly as he leads you down the stairs. You glance back at the scene you had just left behind. Leander was still on the floor, his friends gathered around him, murmuring in concern over his complaints of pain. If you hadn't known that Sebastian was the one behind this, you would've laughed straight in Leander's face.

Sebastian's hold on you loosened slightly as he guides you away from the commotion, his brows furrowed. As you follow him down the last flight of stairs and turn the corner, you recognise where he is taking you.

”The Undercroft? Seriously? You know this place gives me the creeps.” You question with a raised eyebrow as you both approach the entrance.

”Get in.” He commands, his face stoic as he looks down at you.

”Sebastian Sallow, don’t use that tone with me or else I swear I will—Ahh!” Before you could finish your sentence, he swiftly lifts you off your feet and slings you over his shoulder, catching you off guard.

He looks around, making sure no one is around and opens the entrance of the Undercroft, walking through the dark hallway as you hit his back in protest and demand him to put you down. He doesn’t seem phased by your actions, walking straight into the center of the room and placing you down carefully.

”What’s the matter with you! You can’t just do whatever you please. Like picking me up, or punching Leander, its not right!”

Irritation flashes in his eyes at your insolence, and narrows his eyes at you. ”Shut up and be quiet.” 

The way he says it doesn’t sound like an insult, and a jolt of arousal shoots straight your core as you do a double take. “Excuse me? You can’t tell me what to do—,”

”You haven’t spoken to me in days. I think you can shut your pretty little mouth a bit longer and let me speak instead.” His words are harsh as he starts pacing around the room.

Frowning, you stay rooted in your spot as you watch him pace back and forth in front of you. You keep silent just like he instructed, and instead take the moment to examine him head to toe. He is dressed in an olive wool jumper that clings lightly to his broad shoulders, the colour complementing his complexion. The sleeves are rolled up to his forearm, showcasing his veiny muscles. His face appears more sunken than usual, likely from the stress of the recent turmoil. His hair is longer than before, occasionally falling across his eyes as he pushes it away.

He looks so good, so hot, and you feel your core getting wetter at the sight of him. His relentless pacing wasn’t helping either, hands clenching at his sides so hard that you can see the veins probing out his arms. The way he tenses his jaw gets you feeling stuffy in your robe. He looks strikingly handsome and you missed him so much.

”One week.” He suddenly stops pacing and turns to stare at you with sleepless dark eyes. “One week you didn't speak to me. No letters, no messages, nothing. I didn't know if you were safe or if something had happened to you. Do you have any idea what I went through, wondering if you were okay? Wondering if I'd ever see you again?”

He pauses for a moment, his jaw clenching again as he tries to contain his vexation. "I have spent days searching for you, desperate for any sign that you were okay," he confesses, his voice edged with frustration and hurt. "I tried everything to catch a glimpse of you, to get some reassurance. But there was nothing. And all the while, I was trying to find out how your secret got out, because if you truly knew me, you'd know I would never betray you like that. I spoke to countless people, searching for answers, while you chose silence. Well, until I received your vague letter today.” A bitter chuckle escapes him, laced with a dark edge.

”And then I saw you in class,” his eyes searches yours. “So close yet so distant. You didn’t even bother letting me explain, like everything we shared meant nothing.” The words spat out his mouth in disbelief.

”That moment in the storage room…I've replayed it in my head many times. Being so close to you, smelling your scent after so long.” he closed his eyes as if he was remembering that day. He exhales in defeat and opens his dark orbs to look at you.

”I don’t think you realise the effect you have on me”, he steps closer to you, his face inches away from yours. “The things you make me feel. I would do anything to have your body close to mine again. To make you scream in pleasure again.”

"Sebastian..." You whisper, your voice barely audible, yet there was a hint of lust unmistakable in your tone. His eyes close briefly at you saying his name after so long, his breath brushing against your cheek. Exhaling deeply, he shakes his head, and then steps back to create distance between you. You nearly whimper at the loss of contact.

He doesn’t say anything for the span of three heartbeats, continuing to glare at you with hollow eyes. ”You are so stubborn. The most stubborn person I have ever met. All you needed to do was read my letters and see that I didn’t cause this mess. But no, you must be adamant to make my life more complicated.” his voice drips with jealously. “Clearly you care more about Leander’s condition-”

”I read your letters.” You quickly breathe out, stopping Sebastian in his tracks.

He freezes, his eyes widening in surprise as your words hung in the air between you. There is almost an electric charge filling the space. He processes your confession, the muscles under his jaw working beneath his skin. His voice, when he finally speaks, is softer yet edged with disbelief, his eyes searching yours for some hint of deceit.

"You... read my letters? All of them?"

You nod slowly, meeting his gaze steadily. Without breaking eye contact, you reach into your bag  your fingers trembling slightly as you pull out the stack of his letters. Holding them up between you, you let out a heavy sigh before dropping your hand by your side. "I did. I'm sorry I didn't sooner," you confess, your voice strained and barely above a whisper. "I should have trusted you."

For a moment, neither of you speak. The air is charged with an unspoken intensity, each second feeling heavier than the last. Sebastian's gaze bores into the pile of letters in your hand, and it kills you not knowing what he is thinking. At last, he advances toward you, his presence nearly suffocating as he stands close, his eyes ablaze with intensity.

"Why didn't you read them sooner?" he finally asks, his voice betraying a trace of hurt.

"I wanted to," you admit quietly, your heart wrenched at his voice. "I wanted to read them, but I was just so upset and so hurt. I was so scared of hearing your side of the story, I thought you betrayed me." Sebastian's expression softens at your voice breaking, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he listened intently to your words.

”Deek told me that he moved one of my paintings outside in the hallway, and it ended up telling Leander all of my secrets,” you continue, your voice slightly shaky with emotion. "And then he spread it around the entire school.”

Sebastian's face darkens with anger. "Fucking Leander. I’m going to kill him.”

Before he could react, you stride in front of him and look up at him. "That’s when I knew you didn't do it. And I opened your letters," you said firmly, wanting him to know that you trust him unequivocally now. He looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“I miss you so much,” you let out a sob. “My heart aches every second we are apart. I feel like I have lost a part of myself.” Tears stream down your cheeks as you pour your emotion to the boy in front of you.

"My days felt empty, my nights unbearable," you continue, your words halting between sobs. "I replay every moment we shared, torturing myself with what could have been different if I had just put my anger to the side.”

Your chest heaves, trying to catch your breath between sobs as you struggle to articulate the depth of your feelings. "I thought I was protecting myself, but all I did was hurt both of us," you confess. "I'm so sorry, Sebastian. I was scared and confused, but I should have trusted you. I should have reached out sooner.”

Sebastian stands silently before you, still processing what you have just said. The weight of your words hung heavily in the air. You study his face, eyes dancing to the features of his face; his eyes, his cheeks, his lips as you keep pouring out your thoughts.

“I love you.” You breathe out. Finally, a weight is lifted off your shoulders and your heart bloomed. “I love you so much, it hurts. You are my soulmate and I cannot bare to stay away from you for any longer.”

Silence envelopes you both, each moment stretching as you hold each other's gaze. The only sound in the room was soft rhythm of your synchronised breaths. Neither of you dares to break the stillness, both waiting for the other to make a move. Its almost as if time has stopped just for this moment between the two of you.

Sebastian’s shoulders slumps as he closes the gap between you with purpose. His hands reaches up to gently cradle your cheeks, using this thumbs to wipe away your tears. His touch is impatience — a longing to bridge the gap that had kept you apart.

With a rush of emotion, his lips presses against yours eagerly, igniting a fire of vulnerability between you both. Without a second longer, you drop the letters from your hand and to the floor, and instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss with hunger. A single tear escapes your eye, mixing with the kiss as the tenderness of his touch and the intensity of the moment overwhelm you both. As your lips part for breath, he whispers urgently, his voice laced with a plea, "Say it again.”

“I love you,” you breathe, your words punctuated by the press of his lips against yours. "With all my heart.”

A smile grazes his lips between your kiss, warm and gentle. With strength and ease, he lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the desk at the corner of the room. The smooth surface of the polished wood presses against you as he places you down on the edge, his hands supporting you. Standing between your dangling legs, his touch is firm yet tender, gliding up and down your thighs with a familiarity that brings a rush of longing to your body. He had missed your presence so much, every day feeling incomplete without you by his side. But now, in this moment, everything feels right as his gaze meets yours and desire sparks between you both.

“Gods, I love you so much, its suffocating.” He whispers against your lips. You let out a deep sigh of contentment.

Your heart swelled, making it beat faster and harder until you could barely breathe. His lips were on your skin, leaving a trail of fire as they moved down your neck. You gasp as he presses his hard body against yours, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. As he grinded against your sensitive core, pleasure coursed through you so intensely and all you could do is let out a wanton moan.

”Mhmm I missed hearing you moan. My favourite sound.” Sebastian’s voice is husky as he quicky removes your robe and unbuttoned your shirt and bodice and chucked it somewhere on the floor. A hiss flowed from your lips as the coldness of the room hardened your nipples into peaks. Your fingers pinched the bottom of his jumper, tossing it overheard without regard for where it lands, desperate to feel his skin underneath your hands. He groaned at the sight of your breasts, latching onto your nipple with his mouth. You gasp, head lolling back at the sensation and you lie your back down against the wooden desk as he continues. He impatiently brings a hand up underneath your skirt and between your legs, gliding his fingers against your covered core. You’re soaked, just like he has imagined.

“Please, Sebastian.” You plead, and he complies to you begs, pulling your panties to the side to let two fingers run between your soaked folds, moving back and forth to collect your juices and repeating his actions over and over again. After a few strokes, he sinks two slender finger inside. You moan at the feeling of finally being stretched out, his fingers curling inwards as they massage inside you.

“Feels good sweetheart?” He asks as his teeth nip at your earlobe and his fingers pick up the pace.

”Shit yes, Sebastian! Don’t stop,” you moan loudly into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Instantly, you hear him groan and he abandons your earlobe, kissing down your body and towards your core. He uses his other hand to spread your legs wide and buries his tongue right onto your clit.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, while his tongue begins laving up your clit quickly, His eyes stay stuck on your face, while you struggle to choose between shutting yours and looking down as he devours on your pussy. He eats you out savagely, as if he’s starving. You’re not sure if its your juices, Sebastian’s saliva or both, but the warm liquid runs down your core and onto the desk. Your legs begin to shake at the immense pleasure and you feel yourself getting close.

”Let go sweetheart, let me hear those sounds again.” He feels the way you tighten around his fingers, which has him speeding up, determined to have you barrel over the edge. His other hand moves up your body to pinch at your nipples, his orbs dark and sexy as they stay fixed to your face. His intense gaze turns you on even more and you can’t help but shamelessly grind against his warm muscle.

You feel dizzy, eyes blown out as he continues the slaughter on your cunt. Your back arches from the hard desk, head tipped back completely as your body jolts. Sebastian doesn’t stop, his hold on your breast steady and possessive while his fingers hit your g-spot. Your pussy clenches up before you know it and you feel the pressure inside you release as your orgasm washes over you. Explosions of hot white blurs your vision as you cry out. He continues to pump his fingers into you, riding out your high as he flicks his tongue over your clit over and over again.

You drop back on the desk, heaving to catch your breath. His face comes into frame, the light from the candles around the room casting a dim glow upon his face, and his lips glisten with wetness. “Fuck, that was so hot sweetheart.” he says as he extracts his fingers out, and when he brings them in front of you, they’re coated in a milky fluid. Without hesitance, he sticks them into his mouth. He moans at the taste and closes his eyes as he licks them clean. You prop up on your elbows, watching his actions with hooded eyes. It’s the hottest thing you have ever seen and the image is going to be burned into your mind forever. You suddenly feel a rush of adrenaline surge through you. Before he could do anything else, you jump off the desk and stand in front of him. You spin him around, pushing him so that he is against the edge of the desk. You kiss your way down his torso, lips brushing against the soft skin of his hip bone. You fall to your knees in front of him, eyes locked with his as you begin to undo his slacks. His chest rises and falls as he takes your figure in front of him, realising what you are about to do. You smirk as you pull his trousers down and take his cock out. You moaned at the sight, hand wrapping around his hard cock, slowly sliding it up his length. The swollen head is leaking with pre-cum and you can’t help thinking what it tastes like. So you inch forward to stick out your tongue to gently lick it. Saltiness fills your tastebuds and you hum in response.

“Oh my Gods.” He threw his head back with a delicious groan as you start to lap at the head and stroke him slowly with your hand. His hands fly to your hair, burying them in your locks as he guides your mouth. You sink onto him, lips wrapped around the girth and he sighs at the warmth that envelops him. The circling of you tongue makes his stomach build up with pressure, muscle flexing to keep him from thrusting into your throat.

You look up at him and nearly choke at the sight above you. It was one to behold as sweat starts to roll down his temples, his mouth slightly ajar and his hooded eyes slightly covered by his hair as he watches his cock disappear into your sweet mouth. The small moan you let out is muffled as his cock fills your mouth, and his body rattles at the vibrations. He guides your head down more, hands coaxing you, pushing you down further until he hits the back of your throat. Your hands move up to grab onto his thighs to steady your balance, letting your jaw fall slack as he fucks your mouth deeply. You’re choking, spit coming out from the corner of your lips. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier, eyes brimmed with tears, nose pressed against his stomach as you hum around his cock.

He pulls you off of him a few seconds later, letting out a gasp as you try to catch your breath. He fixes your messy hair, patting it down with care. His thumb finds the bottom of your lip, gliding it across the skin. “Shit, you love sucking my cock don’t you? Such a pretty fucking mouth.” He groans as he leans down to capture your lips, kissing you desperately. He pulls you back up on your feet and leads you on the couch, laying you down on your back. He undresses himself completely, before undressing your skirt and tights. “Want you so bad Sebastian.” You beg as he climbs over you, your pussy clenching around nothing as you feel his cock resting against you thigh. He ogles down at your body, admiring your sweaty glistening skin, and noticing some cut and bruises painted over. He brings his thumb to the scar just above your hip, gently tracing its length.

”This looks new. You’ve been out fighting again, haven’t you?” he murmurs, his voice tinged with worry as he glances up at you. You bite your lip in uncertainty, the silence confirming his suspicion. Sebastian’s eyes darken with protectiveness, his jaw clenching as he processes the thought of you in danger. He hates seeing you get hurt, especially when he knows that Rookwood’s lot caused this.

“It was just a distraction,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you stare up at him.

Sebastian’s eyes soften as he listens, his thumb still gently caressing the scar. “Well, from now on, you come to me if you need a distraction.” His words are firm, yet tender, and he punctuates them with a soft kiss on your lips, sealing the promise between you. You watch as he wraps his hand around his shaft, stroking it a few times before lining it up to your entrance. He slides the tip up and down you slit a few times before he starts pushing the head into you.

“Oh Gods,” you moan as you spread you legs wider, your walls taking him in inch by inch. You hold onto his neck as he fully bottoms out inside you. A gush of breath leaves you at how deliciously full you feel. He takes a moment to allow you to adjust to his girth, until you peck his lips as a signal to move.

”Merlin, you’re so tight, taking my cock so well.” You bury your face in his neck at his dirty words as his cock slides effortlessly into your tightness. You can feel every inch of him brushing against sensitive skin as he begins to move slowly and carefully inside you. He hisses at the feeling of your tight walls around him, setting a quicker pace. His brows are furrowed in concentration, trying to hold himself back from releasing too early. He wants to prolong the pleasure, to see your face contort in ecstasy as you reach climax before him.

The sounds escaping your lips are muffled by his neck as you try to hold them back, and Sebastian doesn’t like that. His intent gaze meets yours as he sits up on his knees, never breaking his rhythmic thrusts inside of you. With a firm grasp, he lifts your leg and drapes it over his shoulder, intensifying the stretch and depth of his penetration. You roll your eyes back in pleasure at the new position, your moans rising to a high-pitched chorus that echoes off the walls of the empty room.

“Oh fuck, oh fuc—,” you whine as he pounds hard, hitting your g-spot as pleasure shoots through you. The sounds coming out of you are a serene melody to Sebastian’s ears, a contrast to how innocent you sometimes pretend to be. He fucks you with vigour, drilling into you as the explicit sound of skin slapping, moans, and names slipping from lips fill the room. He looks down at where you were both connected, mesmerised by the way your pussy engulfs him, as if you were made for him.

“Say my name, baby,” he growls, his voice deep and raw as he grabs your breast with a firm grip. Your skin tingles under his touch and you arch your back from the couch, desperate for more. He pinches your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. “Tell me who fucks you this good.” You moan in response, revelling in the sensations coursing through you. “You, Sebastian!” you gasp, your words filled with need and desire. “It’s always been you.” His name rolls off your tongue like an enchanting tune, igniting a fire within him. As he continues to pleasure you, every inch of your being is consumed by him and the sheer ecstasy he brings.

“Good girl. I missed you so much, baby. I’ve been thinking of making you come all fucking week. Mhmm, how does my cock feel buried deep inside you?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he continues his brutal pace into your body. Your toes curl in pleasure and your legs tremble as he continues his relentless pace, starting an inferno of desire inside your body. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire as he takes you over and over again, his words and actions sending you into a state of pure ecstasy.

“Wanted you so bad, and now I have you right where I want you. Now I want you to come for me. Can you do that for me sweetheart? Can you come all over my cock?”

His voice drips with desire and longing, each word a plea for you to fulfil his carnal desires. His thumb finds your throbbing clit, moving in fast, expert circles to bring you closer to the edge. The combination of his words and the intense stimulation drives you wild, your body responding with tremors of pleasure. As you tumble over the edge, your eyes roll back in ecstasy and your jaw fall slack in surrender. Your legs starts shaking uncontrollably as a second orgasm washes over, your core clenching tightly around Sebastian as he continues to thrust inside, chasing his own release.

“Shit. You look so fucking pretty when you come for me.” Sebastian leans in close, his breath hot against your skin as he smashes his mouth on yours. His hips stutter and falter in their rhythm as he nears the edge of release. You peck at his lips, desperate for him to use you to find his release. "I'm on the potion," you moan, "please come inside me." His head rolls onto your shoulder in pleasure at your words as he continues to thrust into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing the room.

"Fill me up," you plead, "please..." Before you can finish, he groans and hisses through gritted teeth, forehead pressed against yours as he reaches his climax. A low husky moan escapes his lips as he stills inside you, filling you with his load and covering your walls with his essence. Your body responds instinctively, clenching around him and grinding against him to prolong his pleasure.

“Fuck,” A deep sigh escapes his lips as he withdraws from within you. Collapsing onto the couch beside you, he pulls you against him, seeking comfort and solace in your embrace. You shift to his side, pressing into him as you entwine your limbs together. The warmth of his skin radiates heat that seeps into yours, creating a comfortable cocoon of intimacy.

“I love you so much,” his gaze is filled with deep adoration as he looks into your eyes. His words carry a weight of love and devotion that radiates from his soul. “My soulmate, my everything.” Every syllable is spoken with tenderness and sincerity, melting your heart in the process.

“I love you too, Sebastian. Will all my heart.” In that moment, it felt like time stood still and nothing else mattered besides the love shared between the two of you.

“Look what I bought from Hogsmeade!”

You and Sebastian are walking from Hogsmeade back to Hogwarts, the sunset casting the sky in a mesmerising blend of orange and pink hues. The spring landscape glows warmly, the beauty of the school striking against the colourful sky. You had gone to buy some supplies, and Sebastian had been at the Three Broomsticks with some friends. But as soon as you were done, he ditched his friends without a second thought (not a hard decision for him) and decided to escort you back to school. Now, with his hand enveloping yours, you chatted casually about your purchases.

Fishing the new ballet flats out of your bag, you hold them in front of his face. “Got them from Spintwitches. Aren’t they so pretty? I can’t wait to wear them!” you chime, your excitement palpable.

Sebastian chuckles at your enthusiasm. He loves when you’re this happy, the way your eyes light up and your entire demeanour radiates joy.

“They’re beautiful,” he said, his voice warm with affection. “But not as beautiful as the person wearing them.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, and you playfully nudged him with your shoulder. “Always the charmer, aren’t you?”

He grinned, squeezing your hand gently. “Only for you.” he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a tender, passionate kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect, magical moment. After rekindling in the Undercroft last year, you and he became inseparable. Through every twist and turn, he was by your side, and you by his.

You walked in a comfortable silence for a few moments, until you spotted two students approaching. They seemed nervous, nudging each other as if urging the other to speak first. Their faces were flushed, and they kept glancing at you with wide, eager eyes.

"Hi, sorry to bother you!,” one of the girls said, looking at her friend for help, but she only nudged her shoulder to keep speaking. “But, um, can you tell us more about ballet? It looks so cool!" her voice filled with excitement and curiosity. She looks quite young, as if she was in first or second year.

The other girl beamed at you, her eyes sparkling with interest. "Yeah, we read a book about it and there was all these cool poses you can do! You should start a club at Howgarts."

You felt a mixture of surprise and delight at their interest. After all the gossip and torment that followed you last year, you did not expect this response from anyone. You look at Sebastian, an amused look on his face. You turn back to the girls. "Oh, really?" you said, smiling warmly. "I'm glad you're interested! Ballet is such a beautiful and expressive art form. It's all about grace, discipline, and storytelling through movement." You could see their eyes light up even more as you spoke, hanging on every word.

Sebastian watched you with a proud smile, his eyes shining with admiration. He squeezed your hand a little tighter, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"That sounds amazing!" the first girl said, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. "We would love to learn more and maybe even try it ourselves."

You nodded, feeling a surge of inspiration. "You know what? Starting a ballet club sounds like a fantastic idea. We could meet a few times a week, and I can teach you the basics." Your mind raced with ideas, picturing a group of students practicing pliés and pirouettes in a classroom.

The girls exchanged excited glances, clearly thrilled by the prospect. "That would be awesome! Thank you so much!"

"Of course," you said, your heart swelling with happiness. "I'll talk to Professor Weasley about it and see what we can arrange. In the meantime, feel free to come by and ask me any questions you have. I'd be happy to help."

As the girls thanked you again and hurried off, their excited chatter fading into the distance, Sebastian squeezed your hand gently. "Look at you, inspiring the next generation of dancers," he said with a grin. His eyes were filled with pride, and his smile was so genuine it made your heart flutter.

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I never imagined this would happen. It's amazing how things turn out."

Sebastian leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The gesture was tender, filled with affection and pride. "I am so glad I followed you into the room of requirements that day."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, a sly smirk playing on your lips. "That day changed everything, didn’t it?" you replied softly. "I remember being so startled when you just appeared out of nowhere."

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Startled? I think you were ready to hex me on the spot," he teased, remembering how you turned around to face him with your wand pointed at him.

"Maybe I was," you admitted, your smile widening. "But I'm glad you did. I wouldn't have realised how lonely I was before you or... well, how much I love you."

Sebastian's gaze softened, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "And you wouldn’t have been my girlfriend either," he cheekily said. "This is all thanks to me."

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Alright, I’ll give you that one," you said, poking him playfully in the ribs. "But only because you’ve made my life infinitely better since then."

Sebastian grinned, capturing your hand and bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "You’ve made mine better too, my little ballerina." he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “Now, why don’t we hurry back before it gets dark? Maybe you could show me how those flats look on you. Preferably with nothing else on—,”

You bellow with laughter as you swat his back as he jokingly runs away from you. You smile to yourself, thinking about that fateful day in the Room of Requirement. It turns out, Sebastian catching you practicing ballet was the best thing that has ever happened to you.

anddd thats the end of my first series! make sure you follow and like my posts, i've got more ideas coming soon

Ominis posing like a damn professional model for photo mode

Excerpt from Fight or flight

Auror!Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

just this…

also a remix of this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9V363tCcHU

left hand man

( LEFT HAND MAN, a Derby Harrington / Bif Taylor-Tremblay fic. 76k words, rated M )

tags: Soundboard names, Established relationship, secret relationship, sequel to canon, implied sexual content, mention of canon CSA (specifically the cutscene ‘Preppies Vandalized’)

summary: It is the end of Bif Taylor-Tremblay’s last summer before graduating Bullworth Academy, and he imagines the upcoming school year can’t be any worse than last year, losing his boxing title to Hopkins and disappointing Derby Harrington. That is, until his father calls him into his office: the Taylor-Tremblays are broke.

( one, two, three, four, five, six, epilogue: seven )

pinterest my beloved

Happy thirsty Thursday to you!

I did something, and I love it...and I hope it will ease your thirst, at least a little.

Stumbled on this old song I used to listen to on repeat and I wanted to see how our boys would look in the club, and ... Oh well...🫦

Ominis Leaves You a Voicemail

Last night I bolted upright from a dead sleep with an ✨idea✨

I couldn’t help but create it, and share with you all. Enjoy the filth you gorgeous little horndogs.

You’ve been away from home on a job for a whole week, and poor Ominis is missing you terribly. One evening after a little dutch courage, he’s feeling a little frisky and decides to call you, but only gets your voicemail. Not a man to be deterred, he leaves you a particularly spicy message.

Warnings – MDNI | Smut | Ominis leaves you a needy voicemail while ‘entertaining’ himself | sloppy noises | Alcohol | Drunk Ominis | Wear headphones for fucks sake | All characters aged up 21+

✨BONUS MORNING AFTER MESSAGE✨

Mc teases Sebastian in the common room in their seventh-year 🐍 Headphones recommended

Begging for more beautiful boys.

PART II of this post \\ NSFW implied (MDNI) \\ cover imgs: @newbienewness, @phinik & @cuffmeinblack

Amit:

Andrew:

Bonus I: Tom Riddle

Bonus II: Ron Weasley

Begging for beautiful boys.

PART I (PART II) \\ NSFW implied (MDNI) \\ downright illegal quantities of "good girl" cover imgs: @newbienewness, @portalsprincess, @starrysallow & @cuffmeinblack

Sebastian:

Ominis:

Garreth:

Leander:

Ominis Gaunt Bot

to make up for the fact that i’m active on here 24/7 but never post anything i made this real quick in guilt for not updating my current pieces 😭 you can talk to him here

Intro

As you were on your way to history of magic with ominis, you felt a slight touch graze the back of your hand. “you know…” Ominis started off, “It seems as if I’ve left my wand in my dorm. Would you help guide me to class?” You couldn’t help but notice a small smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth with his question.

Credits

Ominis Gaunt icon from here

bruises and quiet aches — ominis gaunt x fem!reader x sebastian sallow Part III

Part I here ❤︎ Part II here ❤︎

Here is part three! I'm happy so many of you enjoyed part two ❤︎ Things are, ehm... heating up to say the least in this one B) hehehe... Let me know if you'd like a fourth part ❤︎

plot summary: older ominis gaunt x fem!reader x Sebastian sallow

warnings: recommended 18+, smutty (but nothing too explicit), a little angsty, slow burn, kissing, mention of blood

The world had fallen mute, at least for a second. You narrowed your eyes at the embellished ceiling and its murals that moved gracefully above you — slowly dragging you upwards. The painted, luscious trees swayed in the wind, revealing something glistening behind its green curtains, and around the branches, stems, and into the ground and up again, swirled a large, lean, white serpent. You tried to find the face of the snake but were unsuccessful. Yet, you could sense that it was watching you from behind the anonymity of the leaves.

Your swollen, blurry gaze tried to adjust to the evening sun peering into Ominis’ bedroom. It was as spacious as his office and each room seemed to be able to fit another manor in it — grand to a tee. At first you said no to his suggestion to rest that sounded more like a command, to take a nap — but then, trying to take a few steps off of his desktop, you felt your legs cave beneath you. So, now you found yourself lying on your back in his crisp, amber, cotton sheets. Regardless of the numerous empty guest rooms, he insisted on you sleeping in his. His point being: you were not a guest. Which made Sebastian snort and roll his eyes and left you with the ever returning question of: where does that leave me? The burning sensation left on your lips from Sebastian having crashed his own upon them pointed you towards one answer, but having him flee to the other side of the building as the incident eventually dawned on him, as your presence dawned on him, only pointed you towards a sea of even more questions. Your visit was tumultuous, indeed — for all of you. You were all experiencing growing pains safely tucked away for several years, because as you returned to your past, you realised you never truly left it in the first place – and everywhere you looked, you could find yourself.

Knock, knock, knock…

Quickly awakening from the tangle of your thoughts you looked towards the other end of the room, and before you knew it, Ominis appeared from behind the doors. His dark eyebrows curved perfectly above his fog-laced eyes. He was now wearing a midnight-blue, thin knit that praised his frost-kissed skin – as his white shirt had gotten blood on it. He sauntered closer towards you in his bed, dragging his lean fingers through his pale-blond hair, only to have it fall in front of his eyes immediately. You dragged yourself upwards a little, resting against the black, wooden bedframe. ”Have you been able to sleep a little?” he asked as he got closer. Shifting on the bed you realised how timid you felt all of a sudden — trying to brush your hair in place with your fingers, even though he couldn’t see you.”Ye-” you started only to hear your own voice falter. Ominis’ pale eyes gazed towards you as he placed himself beside the bed. Feeling your cheeks burn hot, you cleared your throat. ”I did, yes — I managed to sleep for a little while… at least.” you spoke quietly. ”That’s good…” he hummed as his fingertips graced the sheets of his bed. ”-but you should rest for at least a couple of days…” he added, feeling his way forward until his fingers reached the bump of the fabric above your legs and feet, making them tingle. He sat down at the end of his bed next to your legs as his gaze rested somewhere on the rug, his hair falling softly in front of his eyes. ”-to let your body recoup.” he finished before sighing. ”How…” Ominis started, but fell silent. He seemed a little hesitant to you suddenly being there, at arms reach, after having been gone for so long. You could see the conflict within him play out in front of you — his eyebrows bowing, his jaw clenched. ”How does it look?” he finally spoke, softly yet a little strained, pointing towards you — aiming at your waist. You looked down as you carefully pulled up the oversized shirt you had borrowed from him. You sighed heavily as you let the red marks stretching across your skin sink in. ”I’ll be ok…” you muttered quietly. ”-thanks to you.” you finished, looking up at him just in time to see him nod. ”May I?” he asked, pointing yet again towards your waist — his misty eyes gazing out somewhere into the room. ”Eh-m-yeah…” you gulped. ”-of course.” you finished before sitting up a little straighter.

Ominis moved closer up towards you, feeling his way above the cotton duvet. You felt the weight of his hand above your shin, knee and thigh… Without thinking about it you held your breath. His hand moved gently across the border of the duvet and you, until his fingers landed on the warm skin of your stomach, making it flinch a little. Ominis looked calm as he slowly dragged his fingers above your skin until he felt the edges of the scar, on which he slowed down. All words were lost on you and it felt as if you’d seized to exist only to turn into the very tips of Ominis’ fingers. You felt him move above the scar tissue, slowly, gently, before he placed his entire hand above it — it was cold against your warm skin as it pressed down slightly. ”How does this feel?” he asked quietly. You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed, flushed red, lips swollen, and unable to speak a single coherent word. For a moment you’d forgotten about the pain and the wound — all you could feel was Ominis. ”It’s…” you mumbled, forcing yourself to say something. ”It feels much better.” you managed quietly. Ominis lifted his hand off of you, making you frown at the loss of contact while feeling even more embarrassed at your sudden neediness — as if every year of quiet longing came rushing back. ”Glad to hear it.” Ominis spoke calmly. Yet, there was something lingering in his voice… A certain type of solemness. ”The scar will remain.” he added, still looking out into the room, but now, looking up at him, you saw that his cheeks were red too. Your lungs moved heavily within your chest. ”Resting should do you well.” he spoke. He was frustratingly stoic, formal, reserved. You sensed his leaving and searched rather desperately within your head for leverage until you finally opened your mouth.

”Do you know you have a snake slithering about your ceiling?” you asked. Ominis sighed before he relaxed his body on the bed again. He sat silent for a little while, tilting his head to the side. ”I’ve heard there is supposed to be one there, yes…” he spoke quietly. ”-but I’ve never heard of anyone actually seeing it.” he finished before he frowned a little. Your breathing slowed down as you looked at him. Your eyes’ swollenness seemed to spread to your lips, making them ache. ”How did it look?” Ominis asked gently. ”Huh?” you mumbled, looking at his rosy lips that glistened a little against his teeth. ”How did it look?” he repeated, shifting his foggy gaze towards you. ”Oh-” you mumbled again. You looked up towards the ceiling only to realise that the serpent was gone — there was only a forest of trees swaying above you. You couldn’t see it anywhere, not a single white scale in sight. ”It’s…” you quietly spoke. ”What?” Ominis asked. ”I could have sworn it was there a second ago and…” you continued. ”-and now it’s gone.” you finished, still looking up at the mural. Without you seeing it, Ominis tugged at his lips. ”Perhaps it’s shy…” he mused quietly. ”-or incredibly selective of its audience.” he added. You looked at him and his pale gaze. ”I should feel honored then.” you spoke, tugging at the corner of your lips. ”Oh, the honor is entirely the serpent’s.” Ominis quickly  countered, making your cheeks burn much redder than before. If you squinted you could see a familiar smile on his lips as you both sighed in unison — for a moment it felt as if nothing had changed. It all pulled you back to your days together, before you left – and if you listened closely, you could hear his subdued panting against your ear in the undercroft and feel his breath against your ear. The boy you once knew had grown up now, you both had – and all you could think about was how it all would feel today, how he'd sound, how his hands would feel against you. ”Hm.” you hummed in response. You tried to look into his pale-blue eyes, but found it incredibly difficult as it felt he could see right through you. 

”How’s…” you started, yet falling short. ”How’s… Sebastian doing?” you asked. ”Ah, yes, Sebastian…” Ominis spoke quietly before sighing. ”He’s feeling a little… torn, to say the least.” he added. ”He’s never been one known for restraining his emotions…” he continued, breathing out a short sigh. ”I don’t think he feels he can control himself… around you.” he finished, shifting his gaze towards you again. You nodded, mostly to yourself — feeling responsible for opening up old wounds by returning with yours. ”And..” you started, yet falling short again. ”And how are you feeling?” you finally asked, looking up towards him. ”Well…” he started, swaying a little on his voice. ”I can’t say I blame Sebastian — not this time.” he added. ”I know how he feels.” he finished. A black little pit took shape within your stomach, twisting itself, and it felt as if it would pull you into it altogether. You wanted to grab ahold of the blue cotton on Ominis’ wrist and drag it closer but it felt as if you were glued against the bedframe. Ominis sighed heavily before he looked out into his bedroom as you looked at him.

”I missed you.” he spoke, ever so softly, slicing your chest right open. You wanted to shield yourself from all the emotions that came falling down on you but you couldn’t. ”I’ve missed you terribly, y/n.” he repeated. Your heart rung loudly within your chest. Without thinking too much about it you reached out to his hand resting on top of the duvet, placing it in yours. Ominis’ gaze was still somewhere in the room, but you could see his chest moving slowly and heavily at your touch before you felt his hand tighten, softly, around yours. The room fell silent again except for your harmonious breathing. You adjusted yourself on the bed, moving a little bit closer towards him as you enclasped his hand with both of yours — at this, Ominis’ head fell forward slightly. ”I really am sorry for hurting you — both of you.” you added, looking up at him and his august profile bowing. He closed his eyes. ”I thought I did the right thing.” you finished. Ominis sighed before he dragged his hand from out of your hold, sending a cold shiver down your spine at the loss of contact. He started to rise from the bed but you quickly grabbed ahold of his wrist, stopping him from getting too far. ”Please don’t go.” you blurted out softly, pleadingly. Ominis sighed again, turning a little towards you where he stood. ”You should rest.” he spoke. You frowned up at him. ”I’m alright.” you answered. You felt incredibly vulnerable and you desperately wanted him to be there with you — to not tread too far. ”Stay.” you gently begged. Ominis shook his head as he raised his free hand to massage his eyebrows, sighing heavily. ”Sebastian isn’t the only one having a hard time restraining himself, y/n.” he spoke, somewhat sternly, gazing down towards where you sat on his bed. ”You don’t have to restrain yourself.” you spoke. ”I don’t want you to.” you added. Ominis sighed once again. ”Is that truly what you want? Do you even have the slightest idea of what that means?” he asked, sounding both frustrated and calm at the same time, the way only Ominis could. You released the hold of his wrist, making him place his hands inside of his pockets. ”Hm?” he hummed, urging an answer. ”I’ve missed you…” he continued. ”-but I can’t…” he spoke before sighing. ”I can’t keep hoping for you to always return — to stay – only when it pleases you.” he added softly. ”Because it’s all I’d ever do.” he finished quietly. It felt as if someone tore your chest wide open, pulling your heart from out of its cage, ready for the vultures to come pick at your flesh. 

Even if you’d ran away you’d always carry them with you — a part of you would always be there, as it always had been, right next to them, in their pockets, close to their hearts, course trough their veins — and now, when you returned it felt as if you had run from the inevitable. ”But…” you spoke, ever so quietly. ”-what if I’ don’t run?” you asked. ”If I wanted to stay?” you added as your sight landed somewhere on the rug beneath Ominis’ feet. He turned towards you, pondering your words. ”Do you want to stay?” he asked. You looked up at him and his clouded eyes that peered somewhere above you. ”If… you want me to.”you answered, anxious — as if on trial, waiting for the crowd to pass on their judgement. ”I’m serious, y/n.” Ominis spoke, rather sternly, frowning at you. ”So am I.” you countered quickly as you looked up at him. Ominis sighed heavily again, shaking his head as his hands returned to massage his eyebrows.”Lords.” he muttered quietly. ”Ominis?” you spoke softly. He sighed again. ”Hm?” he hummed where he stood. You could see the conflict escalate within him with each second and just as you were about to open your mouth Ominis spoke again. ”You’re telling me you want to stay?” he asked, sounding almost a little perplexed. You looked at him and his frowning dark eyebrows. ”Ye-” you began only to be interrupted by Ominis’ hands reaching out to you, pulling you upwards where you sat on his bed, his lips crashing against yours. You whimpered at the harsh impact before you could even realise what was happening. As Ominis’ hands held onto your face, you closed your eyes, melting beneath his hands as he pressed his lips closely against yours. 

You unraveled as your lips and tongues melted into a hot flood of pure greed. Ominis sighed against your lips, groaning frustratedly, still fighting within his own head. As his hands clasped onto you, tugging at his own shirt to pull you closer, swirling his hands up and down your body, gracing up your bare legs, your waist, into your hair — it felt as if something untangled itself within you, sending a wave of bliss throughout your veins until your toes curled against the cotton beneath you. Ominis groaned more loudly against you as his hands tried to pull you even  closer. The sweet, dusky and intoxicating smell of him coursed through your head and lungs, making you feel utterly inebriated. His wet lips and tongue moved effortlessly with yours, burning you hotter with each second — dragging you closer into him.

Suddenly it felt as if someone blasted you with glacius as Ominis pulled away, quickly, stepping a few feet back. He heaved from the rush of adrenalin and endorphins, which also swirled inside of you. You looked at his flushed pale face, completely bewildered. Ominis shook his head. ”Omi-” you panted, but before you could even finish, he cut you off. ”We shouldn't.” he spoke. ”Ominis.” you spoke, laughing a little deliriously, befuddled to the rollercoaster of emotions you found yourself strapped onto. ”I’m not go-” you started before being cut off again. ”You should rest.” he repeated, leaving no wiggle-room, before he quickly turned on his feet, making his way towards the doors. You sat as frozen on the duvet, chest heaving, lips burning, legs melting into his bed, as you watched the lean back of him swiftly make his way out of the room before the door shut behind him with a bang, making you flinch.

After the door shut you just sat there, frozen in time. The afternoon sun had managed to settle, and it was getting darker with each minute. You pondered if you should have gone after him when he left, but you felt stuck to the bed. Eventually you fell backwards onto your back, sighing heavily, and as you looked up towards the ceiling you were met by piercing white eyes. The serpent was back and this time it was looking straight at you. ”Now you show…” you whispered. ”-and don’t look at me like that.” you spoke to the serpent, or perhaps yourself. The snake merely hissed quietly. You knew what it was thinking — since you were thinking the same thing: You can’t stay in this room forever. Slowly you sat up on the bed again before sliding off the edge. Your naked feet reached the soft rug beneath you. You were only wearing an oversized sweater and you had left your bag in Ominis’ office, in which you had some spare clothing with you. ”Brilliant…” you muttered while looking around the room. You could hear the snake hiss again, and looking up you saw it slither to the other side of the room as it grew smaller, swirling down the ceiling onto a painting on the wall — and to your surprise, the painting gently swung open. You felt a little hesitant, but seeing there was little to no other way forward, you made your way across the room. As you approached the painting you opened it a little further only to see a pair of white, silk pants and a matching pair of cashmere socks.  ”Huh…” you huffed out, narrowing your eyes. A little reluctantly, you reached towards them and pulled them out. You looked at them before you looked up towards the ceiling. The serpent wasn’t there anymore. ”Very convenient…” you mumbled before stepping into the soft fabric that swayed around your legs as you pulled on the toasty socks. You sighed to yourself as you looked towards the black door leading out into the unknown. 

The corridors were barely lit, only a few solitary candles fought bravely against the dark and the many heirlooms along the walls casted shadows that loomed closer as you walked past. Pulling Ominis’ shirt closer around you, you wandered the massive labyrinth — unsure which directions was right. It reminded you a lot of your old school: the grand corridors, the paintings… the aura of never really knowing if anything was as it seemed. ”Ominis?” you spoke meekly into the gloomy space around you. Your voice came out as a mere whisper. Suddenly you saw a shadow as a couple of candelabras lit up beside you. Your spleen jumped into your throat as you gasped. The shadow turned into your own spooked reflection peering back at you in the large mirror that had appeared between the candlelight that swayed gently, filling the dark space with a soft, warm shimmer. You had plenty of bold excursions in your artillery: you’ve fought trolls, goblins, inferi… you had crawled in caves filled with acromentula, fought dark wizards… but walking alone in Ominis’ manor, knowing he and Sebastian were somewhere around the corner, ate at your brain and crawled up your spine. You breathed in slowly, placing a hand on your beating chest. ”What am I doing…” you muttered quietly to yourself before sighing and to your surprise someone answered you. ”My thoughts exactly…” a low voice spoke from somewhere behind you. 

You turned on your heels, catching your breath in your throat once again. From out of the darkness, Sebastian’s tall shadow stepped into the candlelight. There was something unnerving in the way his eyes glistened beneath his dark locks. ”Well… fancy seeing you here.” he spoke with a tone of pure disingenuousness, mocking your earlier encounter. He looked drenched in spite and the way his lips crooked themselves made it feel as if he’d eat you up. You huffed at his scorned self. ”Hopeless.” you muttered beneath your breath. He sneered at you, crowing quietly. ”Oh, hush now… You shouldn’t say such things about yourself. There’s still some hope, even for the likes of you.” he spoke leisurely. You scoffed at him, shaking your head. ”You’re incorrigible… You haven’t changed a bit.” you spoke through gritted teeth. "And you have? No..." he laughed at you, raising his eyebrows mockingly. ”Then why should I?” he spoke, rhetorically. ”I’m not the one deserting the people around me.” he added as his eyes bit down on you. ”Still playing the martyr, are we...” you mumbled, not breaking eye-contact, because it was always a game with Sebastian. ”Coming from someone who’s done what you have done, Sebastian…” you spoke, still not breaking eye contact. ”-that’s rich.” you finished. ”I’m no saint…” he spoke quickly, raising his eyebrows, and before he could continue you spoke again. ”That you certainly are not.” you spat, making him grin sinisterly. ”Well, at least I'm not pretending to be..." he mused slyly. "And since you know me so very well... then what am I?” he spoke quickly, taking a small step forward. ”The devil himself perhaps – wouldn’t surprise me.” you muttered. ”Do I look like the devil?” he countered quickly, almost whispering as the grin grew toothier, larger, more crooked. You looked at his dark eyes that glistened in the soft light. "And you'd do well to remember that birds of a feather, y/n..." he almost sang, quietly. Your name dripped slowly from his tongue, sending a shiver down your neck, spine, legs.

”What do you want?” you spoke, frustrated at him — lacking the energy to play along in his ploy, but his hunger was infectious, and it had started to spread across the floor to where you stood, biting at you. He raised his eyebrows in feigned innocence. ”Me?” he spoke, clasping his hands on his chest. ”I’m trying to figure out the exact same thing as you, darling…” he spoke slyly, yet sternly. ”-and that is: what do you want?” he finished, putting an incredibly heavy emphasis on you. You huffed at him, huffing out a laugh a little hysterically. You nodded, mostly to yourself. ”Seems as if everyone is…” you muttered. ”-and I’m trying to tell you— both of you.” you spoke, looking back at him. ”But all you two do is- is pick at my brains, toy with me, and kiss me…” you spoke, waving your hands at him. ”-and then run away with your tails between your legs.” you finished, raising your pitch slightly. You could see Sebastian slyness falter a little, and for the first time, so did his gaze. ”I’m trying to- or, at least I’d like to have a proper talk… if you’d even like…” you continued, as if asking him. ”-about all of this.” you added, waving your hands again. ”I’m trying to figure it all out too, you know.” you confessed, looking at him. For a short moment you saw the softness in his eyes again, as if he remembered that you were his best friend, not his enemy. ”And I’m not the one running this time.” you finished, still looking at him. His dark eyes peered at you. There was a certain uncertainty there. ”I understand if you both need time…” you spoke, softly. ”-and if that is what you need, I’ll give you it.” you continued. ”If you want me to go altogether…” you mumbled, more quietly, looking down at your feet. ”-if it’s too difficult to have me here… then- then I’ll leave.” you continued. His eyebrows contracted a little above his eyes as they grew softer with each word you spoke. ”If you don’t want me here… I understand if I’ve lost that right… just say it-” you spoke gently, words flowing across the air between you. ”-and I’ll be out of your hair.” you finished with a weak smile.

Sebastian’s eyebrows faltered as he sighed softly, shaking his head as his smug facade crumbled at your sincerity — as it always did. He took a few steps forward, narrowing the space in between you until his feet almost touched yours. You peered up at him and his eyes burning in the lights from the candles. He looked towards your hand resting at your hip before he gently grabbed onto it, sending a warm flood through your body. He swirled his fingers between yours as his thumb drew circles on the back of your hand. ”I like you in my hair.” he spoke softly, still looking at your hand while you looked at the freckles dancing across the bridge of his nose. You watched him close his eyes, shaking his head again as a sigh left him. ”I don’t think I’d allow you to leave again, honestly.” he added. You felt a knot within you start to disintegrate. ”Then why are you behaving like a git?” you spoke sincerely, yet teasing him a little at the same time. A soft grin grew on his lips before he looked at you. ”Born trait, I’m afraid…” he managed to quietly tease back. ”-and perhaps, I’m a little unsure how to behave around you.” he added. The tension between you was tangible and it felt as if it pushed down on your chest, making it ten times as hard to breathe. Both of you just stood looking at each other as the corridor fell completely silent around you. ”Seemingly, so is Ominis… I did hear he kissed you too.” he spoke. ”Seems you've hexed us, haven't you…” he added, looking down at your hand in his. ”-you witch.” he finished, as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips while he gazed straight at you, making your heart leap. ”Only because you let me.” you managed to whisper into the narrow space between you. ”I suppose so.” Sebastian spoke quietly before he leaned down, erasing the space completely. 

His lips were warm and he must have drunk something with cinnamon and honey in it, because it lingered on his tongue. He leaned down even further as he dragged you closer with his free hand while pulling your hand in his up to his face. You swooned at his sudden softness. Gentle whimpers left your lips as his hands softly graced you above the thin fabric of Ominis’ shirt and the silk pants. You dragged Sebastian down further, wanting him closer, making him grin against your lips before he continued the kiss. It felt as if you drunk the sweetest and thickest of sherries that coursed through your veins, making you light headed. Sebastian’s hands  followed every curve of your body, slowly moving up and down, softly tightening his grip every now and then — on your ass, hip, waist, breasts and neck. With one swift move he pulled you up from the floor to his waist, making you wrap yourself around him without breaking the kiss that deepened with each minute that passed. He took a few steps forward until your lower back hit against a narrow table against the wall on which Sebastian sat you down before he pressed himself forcefully against you, pushin you tightly between him and the patterned tapestry behind you, making you bend you head backwards as much as you could, wailing ever so softly at the warm feeling of him pressing hardly against you. His lips moved across your chin, down to your neck, where he placed traces, biting lightly, gracing his nose against your ear as he continued to erase the borders between you, closer and closer. He hummed against your neck, breathing you in before he continued to move his lips down your neck, leaving wet, warm and heavy patches all over you. Your entire body felt as if it tingled with each kiss of his, releasing a new wave of butterflies with every touch. He pulled up the oversized sweatshirt and slowed down, backing away a little. His hand softly touched your fresh scar, making you flinch a little at the feeling. ”Are you ok?” he asked, panting a little. You nodded. ”Yea’.” you mumbled. ”I’m fine — I promise.” you added. Sebastian’s eyebrows curved a little, looking up at you. ”Are you sure?” he spoke, his voice much coarser than before. You nodded again before sighing. ”As long as you don’t pierce right through me — I’ll be fine.” you spoke. You saw a sly smile grow on his lips. ”Well…” he started, a boyish grin spreading on his face. ”Lords…” you blurted before hitting his arm playfully. ”Really mature, Sallow.” you added, shaking your head. Sebastian chuckled softly before a gentle smile replaced his grin. ”Well, you know me.” he added, his eyes glinting through his dark lashes.

The fervor in which you had clung onto him, the way your lips hungered for his even if they were on yours made it dawn on you how incredibly much you’d missed him — them. Sebastian pulled you into another thought-melting kiss, sending shivers down your spine until the tingles reached your toes, making them curl, and your fingers dig into his skin. You grabbed ahold of Sebastian’s shirt and pulled him closer against you. Soft and almost pained groans left your lips into each other’s mouth — and you both swallowed them, devouring every little piece of one another. The swelter of your humid tongues swirling addictively against each other pulled you close to pearly gates. His teeth nibble at you at every chance he got, dragging them against your scorched skin. You could feel your heart beat heavily within your chest as your legs grew weaker and weaker — shaking slightly as Sebastian kept pressing himself against you, pushing you against the wall. Having his rough hands roam your body, gently tugging at your hair, hip, breasts, ass, all of you…made you melt onto the table. You grasped onto his locks, pulling at its ends, making him groan, and the sound of him reverberated through you. You felt yourself squirm where you sat, growing tense as a strained thread and wet as a puddle at the same time. The musky and citrusy smell of him left you soaked with longing and you keened as you couldn’t get him close enough, quickly enough, making Sebastian hum against your lips. You felt him press himself against you even harder and, growing impatient, you reached down to the fabric of his pants, pressing your hand against him. Sebastian paused his kiss as his head fell forward against yours, sighing heavily, he collapsed a little against you — you laughed faintly as you felt the outlines of him, rubbing your hand slowly on top of the fabric separating you from him. You moved up and down his shaft, making Sebastian breathe to the rhythm of your movements as he pressed his hard cock against your hand. You swooned at the feeling of him — and so did he. You moved down your other hand to the hem of his trousers, fumbling a little before you found the button.

Very, incredibly, and oh-so reluctantly, Sebastian took a quick step back — his hair in a disarray — making you frown deeply. He pulled his lips into a thin smile before he chuckled at you sulking in front of him. His lips curled at your displeased and disheveled self. You reached out towards him only to have him dodge your hand by taking another step backwards. ”If you run away again — I…” you started, looking at him with your cheeks flushed red where you sat on the table, feet dangling in the air. Sebastian chuckled quietly again before he interrupted you. ”I won’t…” he spoke. ”-but, if we’re going to do this…” he continued, looking at you. ”-there’s someone else that should be here with us.” he added. ”At least this time.” he finished quietly with a crooked grin. You felt your cheeks burn even hotter and you thought you’d disintegrate entirely even at the mere thought of it. ”Oh.” you spoke at a loss of words. ”If you want… of course.” he added with a low voice as he stepped closer to you again, placing a hand on your knee, slowly and softly dragging his fingers up your inner thigh, making you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Sighing heavily, you could feel your heart beat in your head as you looked up into his eyes that glistened pitch black. You stared at him as his fingers graced upwards, slowly.”Hm?” he hummed. You managed to nod. He looked down at you with something rather sinister behind his eyes. ”Look at you…” he crowed, breathing you into him as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours. ”-so shy and quiet all of a sudden.” he spoke with a low voice before placing the faintest of kisses on your lips, pulling you back with him as he pulled away as quickly, leaving you gasping after him. He took a few steps back again, making you sigh and him grin. He hummed in front of you as he soaked in the sight of your tangled self. ”Tell you what…” he spoke. ”-you saunter back to Ominis’ bedroom…” he added, placing his hands within his pockets. ”-and we’ll be right there with you.” he finished before that crooked smile reappeared on his lips, he quickly raised his eyebrows at you before he walked into the gloomy corridor only to vanish into its shadows in the blink of an eye. 

You could hear your heart slam against your ribs as you sat still on the table, merely looking across the corridor and the stone wall facing you. It all slowly dawned on you, forcing out a breath of a chuckle from your throat. ”Merlin.” you mumbled to yourself before it actually dawned on you. ”Merlin.” you gulped, slowly dragging your feet down to the ground as you stood up. You looked towards the other side of the dark corridor. It felt as if your knees would cave beneath you, dragging you down into the manor only to become one with its floors and walls. Sebastian’s musk lingered on and around you, and the bare skin where his lips had been only seconds ago burned cold. You could feel yourself seep onto the white silk. ”Merlin.” you whispered.

The Daily Prophet: Trial of the Decade

Sebastian appearing on the Daily Prophet during trial.

(Haven’t posted in a while so here’s a little something I created a while back on Mirror AI. Seen it around the internet a lot lately after posting on Pinterest so thought I’d post here)