Hot & Smile
*insta Alex Pettyfer
Three Goblin Art
Not today Justin
occasionally subtle

Origami Around
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oozey mess
Xuebing Du

if i look back, i am lost
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
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I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

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@mamaortiz
Hot & Smile
*insta Alex Pettyfer

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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One of my fav đ¤¤
*insta AlexPettyfer
Imagine thisâŚ
You spill out of the narrow passage into a half-collapsed barn, relatively safe, but your hearts are still pounding like someoneâs right behind you. Dust, the smell of gunpowder, ragged breathing.
Apple slams the door shut first, braces himself against it, then whips around to face you.
âAre you out of your damn mind?â he hisses. His voice is sharp, furious, barely holding together.
âYou were told, crystal clear, not to go in there!â
You wipe the blood from your temple and meet his stare head-on.
âIf I hadnât, they wouldâve gotten the coordinates. And then everything wouldâve gone to hell.â
âAnd now everything did go to hell because we had to drag you out,â he snaps, stepping closer.
âIf youâd just followed orders, I wouldnât have had toâŚâ
âThen you shouldnât have come,â you cut in sharply. âI didnât ask you to.â
Silence, taut, electric. He stares at you for a second, then another. His jaw is clenched so hard it looks like heâs either about to explode or break something very expensive.
âI couldnât,â he bites out.
You raise an eyebrow.
âWhy?â
He opens his mouth and stops. The word gets stuck somewhere between anger and something far more dangerous.
âBecauseâŚâ he exhales.
And doesnât finish. Instead, he lunges: fast, instinctive, like a fight. His hands grip your shoulders, hot and rough, no warning, no permission.
The kiss is brutal, desperate. All adrenaline and fury thatâs been looking for an exit for far too long.
You freeze for exactly half a second, then you kiss him back. Just as hard, just as hungry. Your fingers twist into his jacket, pulling him closer like thereâs still not enough air between you. Your heart is slamming in sync with his.
He pulls back for a breath, forehead pressed to yours, breathing wrecked.
âFuck,â he mutters. âYouâre impossible.â
You smirk, still far too close.
âAnd you still came.â
*credit to gif owner
Imagine thisâŚ
A half-lit basement, damp stone. The air smells like mold and fear. The chain around your ankle is heavy a reminder that youâve been here a while.
Too long for âcommand will figure something out.â Youâre just starting to accept that maybe they wonât when noise erupts outside.
Not clean. Not professionally quiet. The kind of sound made of dull impacts, sharp curses, bone-on-concrete crunches like someone picked a fight with a wall and lost.
You freeze.
ââŚwhat?â
The door flies inward, literally.
Gus March-Phillips walks in first: calm, like heâs stopping by a bar to pick up an order. Gun lowered, eyes sharp, already moving.
Appleâs right beside him, all motion and fury.
Lassen follows predator-quiet, like the basement itself let him in.
Somewhere behind them, Freddie is yelling something aggressively optimistic, and judging by the sounds, Hayes is once again creating a small, personal apocalypse.
You blink, then blink again.
ââŚâ
ââŚâ
âAre youâŚâ you blurt out before your brain catches up, ââŚsome kind of rescue squad straight out of a womenâs fantasy magazine?â
Silence. Exactly half a second.
Apple snorts.
âTold you weâd be appreciated.â
Lassen flicks a glance at the chain on your ankle.
âWhoâs got the key?â
âGerman,â you shrug.
âHeâs probably outside right now having a deep philosophical moment on the floor.â
Gus has been watching you the whole time. Not the chain, not the room. You.
âYou okay?â he asks, like there arenât bodies and chaos behind him.
âDepends on how weâre defining okay,â you scoff.
âHonestly? I expected backup. An army. A plan. Paperwork.â
âAnd instead you got us,â he smirks slightly. âDisappointed?â
âIâm just trying to figure out,â you tug at the chain, âis this heroism or a group suicide pact?â
Gus steps closer, crouches, checks the lock. His fingers move fast. Confident.
âWe didnât have time to wait.â
Click. The chain drops onto the stone.
He looks up at you, close now.
âAnd this is also called: we donât leave our own behind.â
More noise outside: Hayes clearly found someone who hadnât yet been briefed on how the nightâs going to go.
Apple gives your shoulder a quick pat.
âUp you go, liaison. Field tripâs over.â
You stand, still stunned, still with that ridiculous feeling that reality just cracked slightly off-center.
You look at Gus and canât help yourself.
âAlright. I admit it.â
âAdmit what?â
âThat if I ever get captured againâŚâ
ââŚthis is exactly the lineup Iâm hoping for.â
He smirks.
âTry not to get used to it. We donât usually repeat tricks.â
*credit to gif owner

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Imagine thisâŚ
The hatch of the cargo hold opened with a dull clang, and out of the darkness crawled Nicole covered in flour and crumbs, disheveled but looking ridiculously self-assured, wearing that unmistakable expression that said: I am exactly where I'm meant to be and the world can try to argue with that if it dares.
"You've got to be kidding me," Gus drawled, straightening up slowly, hands on his hips, staring at her like she wasn't his kid sister but some particularly bold smuggler's prize catch.
Nicole, completely unfazed, brushed off her skirt with queenly dignity, smoothed her messy hair, and flashed him a smile so breezy it almost made him look out of place.
"Oh, hi, big brother," she said with exaggerated sweetness, as if greeting him at a family dinner instead of on the deck of a warship about to head into an operation. "I am, by the way, the best surprise you're going to get on this mission."
"'Best' is putting it mildly," Freddy cut in, grinning and clapping her on the shoulder like an old comrade. "Where'd the barrel come from?"
"Long story," Nicole shrugged, wearing the expression of someone who had seen a few things. "Let's just say you're not just hauling ammo anymore you've got a little liquid comfort coming along for the ride."
Lassen let out a low whistle, shot a quick glance at Gus, and smirked.
"I already love this mission."
"And who's this?" Hayes asked with open curiosity, taking in the unexpected sight of a girl on board and not bothering to hide the approving look he gave her.
"Nicole," she said, turning toward him, her hair catching the lamplight. "Kid sister of this grumpy man here. And you're cute," she added with such disarming sincerity that Hayes actually blushed, and Larsen choked back a laugh.
And right at that moment when the mood had tipped into near-chaos he walked in.
Apple.
Tall, composed, face unreadable no anger, no surprise, just the cold focus of a man who was used to keeping every detail under control. His eyes swept over her, quick but sharp, like the steady aim of a marksman, and lingered a fraction of a second longer than they should have.
"She's not staying," he said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Nicole lifted her chin, folded her arms across her chest, and stepped closer as if she were throwing down a gauntlet.
"Try and make me leave," she said softly, her smile just a little too daring to be dismissed as simple flirtation.
Silence fell over the hold. Apple started toward her, slow and deliberate, every step ringing against the deck, and the crew without a word suddenly found something to busy themselves with, while keeping her firmly in their peripheral vision.
He stopped close enough that Nicole caught the scent of salt and steel and something else, something that was entirely him, controlled and dangerous.
"You have no idea what you're walking into," he said quietly, almost a whisper, just for her.
"And you have no idea what I can do," she shot back, her voice sharper than he expected.
They stood facing each other, too close for a casual exchange, and the tension between them was thick enough to cut.
"Well, here we go," Gus muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes, knowing this mission had just gained a new headache the size of the ship.
The silence lasted just long enough for everyone to trade glances Freddy and Lassen hiding grins, Gus exhaling in irritation while Nicole and Apple stayed locked in place, like a duel about to break out.
Then Hayes, leaning casually against a crate, asked in that innocent-but-pointed tone that always got people talking:
"So... Apple already knows her?" His brows lifted, his gaze flicking from Gus to Nicole to Apple again, genuine curiosity in his voice. "Didn't even say hello."
The question hung in the air like a well-aimed bullet. The crew was stifling their smirks when Apple finally looked away from Nicole, as if conceding the round at least for tonight. Without another word, he turned and left, leaving behind the distinct impression of a storm that hadn't yet broken.
"He's like that with everyone," Lassen said, waving it off, though amusement colored his voice. He shot Nicole a quick look just in time to catch her theatrical shrug the picture of indifference.
"Not quite like that," Freddy chuckled, hefting a crate and nodding at Hayes like he'd just confirmed a theory. "He looked at her like she was a problem but the kind you solve with your hands, not an order."
"You two talk too much," Gus grumbled, grabbing his sister by the elbow, but Nicole slipped out of his grip like she'd practiced it a hundred times, and perched on an overturned crate with an air of total entitlement, as if she had every right to be there.
"Relax," she told him with the most angelic look she could muster. "I'm just here to spice up your boring little nautical routine."
"A spice that's going to give us all migraines," Gus muttered, but when he saw the rest of the crew clearly enjoying the mere fact that Nicole was on board, he gave up, realizing there was no shoving her back into that barrel.
You can read the full story of my fanfic hereâŚ
Read Part 1 from the story WHEN THE SEA BURNS by LancasterQJ (Q. J. Lancaster) with 24 reads. protectivehero, chemistry...
The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (2024) | Alex Pettyfer as Geoffrey Appleyard | (2-?)
Imagine thisâŚ
You came back from your evening run, kicked off your shoes, and flicked on the hallway light only to jump a foot in the air.
The sudden glow revealed a man sitting in your living room, next to the open window, calmly smoking.
âJax,â you exhaled, half in shock, half in relief. âHow the hell did you get into my house?â
He didnât answer just tilted his head toward the open window. That smug little smile of his said it all.
You sighed. Of course.
âAnd whose kid is that?â
Your stomach tightened. Clearly, while you were gone, heâd gone exploring probably looking for you and found the sleeping child instead.
âJackie,â you said, walking over and snatching the cigarette from his fingers, snuffing it out without asking. âHeâs my friendâs son.â
âAnd whatâs he doing here?â Tellerâs eyes stayed locked on yours, sharp and searching, like he was trying to read between every line you werenât saying. (Gif)
âShe leaves him with me sometimes⌠Itâs a long story.â
âShe trying to get her life back together?â he asked, standing abruptly, a flicker of something darker in his voice.
âThat too,â you admitted with a sigh.
âAnd what about your life? Doesnât she care about what that looks like? Are you even sure sheâs your friend?â
âListen, babeâŚâ You placed your hands gently on his chest, instinctively trying to calm him. âI donât have all the answers, but Timmy loves me. And I love him. Itâs not that simple.â
âShe needs a good smack, that one,â Jax muttered, gripping your hands tightly in his.
âYou mad at me?â you asked, a little smile tugging at your lips.
âDamn right I am,â he said coolly. âWhy didnât you tell me about him?â
âWhat for?â
âBecause I deserve to know everything about the woman Iâm gonna marry. Especially about whoâs sleeping in her bed while Iâm gone.â
âOh, come on,â you laughed. âYour real competition is, what twenty years away from growing a beard?â
He grinned. âTomorrow morning, Iâm picking him up on the bike. Gonna take him for a ride.â
âHeâd love that,â you admitted, heart melting a little at the thought.
âThen thatâs settled.â Jax headed for the door, then turned back with a wicked glint in his eye. âBy the way, Iâll be sure to tell him it was you who kept us from meeting sooner. Pretty cold, keeping a boy from his dreams.â
âNooo!â you laughed, chasing after him. âYou wouldnât dare.â
âThen maybe you should think about what youâre willing to offer me⌠to keep my mouth shut,â he said, winking as he disappeared into the night.
*credit to gif owner
đImagine thisâŚ
Jackson came home late that night. But instead of his usual bedtime ritual a hot shower and lights out he walked straight into an erotic ambush. You were waiting for him in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but lace lingerie and a sheer, barely-there robe.
âHi, baby,â you purred.
âHi,â he replied with a grin, already sensing a show was about to begin. He dropped into a chair, eyes locked on you.
You swayed your hips slowly, teasingly, running your hands over your curves hips, breasts, everything he craved. The dance was suggestive, magnetic. Jackson didnât even blink.
âWanna get undressed?â you whispered, brushing your breasts across his face as you stepped closer.
âYou first,â he said, his voice low, his restraint doing dangerous things to you.
Smiling, you didnât argue. You slid the robe off your shoulders, inch by inch, letting it fall to the floor in a soft heap.
âYour turn,â you murmured, kissing him with just the faintest touch, your tongue tracing the shell of his ear.
He was clearly enjoying your little game. With slow, deliberate movements, he peeled off his cut and handed it to you.
âNice,â you smiled, taking it and placing it neatly on the table.
Turning your back to him, you bent forward ever so slightly, tugging your panties down inch by inch until they slipped to the floor. You stepped out of them and turned, climbing onto his lap, straddling him.
That wicked grin of his widened. Mischief danced in his eyes as he tugged off his shirt. You ran your fingers down his bare chest and abs, letting them settle on his belt buckle. But the moment your eyes met his, everything paused heat hanging in the air between you.
Then suddenly, he stood, gripping your ass with both hands and lifting you onto the table, dragging you closer.
His jeans dropped to his ankles. Then⌠slowly, deeply he was inside you, pulling a moan from your throat. A few slow, deliberate thrusts, a kiss that tasted like sin, and Jackson snapped.
You knew one thing for sure: by the time he was finished with you, walking to the bedroom on your own wouldnât be an option. But really, who needed to walk when your president was right there?
*credit to gif owner
Imagine thisâŚ
âExcuse me, sorryâŚâ
You weaved through sunbathers sprawled on the scorching sand, trying not to kick sand into anyoneâs face, while also very urgently getting away. Why? Well, maybe because you just stole a certain manâs clothes while he was swimming in the ocean.
A certain very large, very British, very shirtless man.
âWhat the hellâŚâ Henry squinted from the water. âWhat are you doing, you little, wait⌠THATâS MY CLOTHES!?â
(Photo)
âY/N!!!â
His voice boomed like thunder and you turned around just in time to see Henry Cavill himself charging out of the waves like Poseidon with an attitude.
âNot a chance!â
You grinned, flipping him the bird high above your head like a damn hero.
âŚOnly your badass moment didnât last. Because Henry started running.
âOh shit,â you muttered, before sprinting off the beach, your feet cursing the soft sand for slowing you down.
âSTOP!â He was getting closer. âI swear I donât even know what Iâm gonna do when I catch you!â
âAaah!â
Your foot caught, and you went flying face-first just as Henry tackled you from behind, his arms locking around you as you both hit the ground in a tangle of limbs.
âGotcha, thief,â he growled, pinning your wrists down.
âGet off me, you oversized bear! Let go!â
âOh, now you wanna talk?â
His face was just inches from yours, lips curved in a wicked smirk.
âYou think this is funny? Leaving me to walk home half-naked?â
âWell,â you huffed, trying to free your wrist,
âItâs not like you have anything to be shy about.â
That made him pause.
âOh? You like what you saw?â
âNO,â you snapped. âYou egotisticalâŚâ
But you didnât get to finish. Because his mouth crashed into yours, shutting you up the Cavill way.
When you finally caught your breath, he grinned.
âGuess someone wants a repeat of that night.â
âOh please,â you snorted.
âThat night was a mistake. I was drunk and out of my mind. You took advantage of me.â
Henry arched a brow.
âReally? Drunk? Taken advantage of? Thatâs funny, because you were very much in control when your naughty little hands were down my pants.â
âMaybe I was just trying to find something in there. Ever think of that?â
âOh really?â he grinned. âYou couldnât find anything, but you were moaning in my ear, âGod, itâs so bigâ? Donât flatter yourself, Y/N.â
âIf you donât get off me, Iâm calling for help.â
He chuckled darkly.
âAnd tell them what, exactly?â
âThat youâre trying to rape me,â you blurted.
He leaned in, eyes twinkling.
âWell now I am tempted. Youâve just talked yourself into it. But not here.â
Before you could protest, he stood and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
âPut me down, caveman!â you shrieked, pounding your fists against his broad back.
âTo my place, darling,â he said with a smirk.
âConsider it a very personal invitation.â

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Imagine thisâŚ
The room reeked of cheap whiskey, sweat, and fear. Jax sat in a leather chair, one leg stretched out, his boot rocking lazily on the toe. His face: calm, unreadable. But those eyes⌠those same eyes that had seen death too many times they were narrowed, sharp as a blade. He was watching the man across from him like a predator sizing up a dying animal.
The guy rubbed his palms together, nervous.
âWe⌠we didnât mean to. We were forced into it. It wasnât my idea,â he stammered, like that would somehow fix what heâd done.
Jax said nothing. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest. The silence was suffocating. Finally, he spoke: low and slow:
âYou still did it. You came after my brothers. You crossed a line.â
The man went pale.
âI-Iâm sorryâŚâ
Jax tilted his head, voice ice-cold.
âSay sorry to a tombstone if youâre lucky.â
His hand moved toward the gun on his belt, deliberate, steady⌠And then the door opened. You walked in like the world wasnât about to end. Heels clicking softly on the floor, carrying a tray with two glasses of bourbon. You set them down without a word, the soft clink of crystal cutting through the tension like a knife.
Hair. Lips. Hips in denim. And just like that, Jax forgot he was here to kill someone.
You nodded politely and turned to leaveâŚ
âWait,â Jaxâs voice stopped you.
For the first time all night, it was soft.
âWhatâs your name?â
You glanced over your shoulder, eyes meeting his.
âY/N,â you said simply.
He smirked that slow, cocky Teller smirk eyes never leaving you as he turned back to the man.
âYou know what?â Jax drawled. âLive. But donât think for a second you earned it.â
The man flinched.
âThank your pretty daughter. Sheâs the only reason youâre still breathing.â
Jax stood up, grabbed one of the glasses, took a long drink and looked back at you, hungry and unapologetic.
âAnd sheâll thank me for that later,â he rasped, lips curving into a wicked grin. âWonât you, sweetheart?â
*credit to gif owner
Hey guys!
Okay but real talk: how obsessed are we with The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare?
Should I drop some imagines with these fine-ass men or what?
Yesđ
Nođ
Theyâre givingâŚ
Imagine thisâŚ
The sunlight is just starting to slip through the curtains of his Soho apartment. Alex wakes up and immediately reaches out⌠but the bed beside him is empty. The sheet is cold. Youâre gone.
His eyes snap open. He sits up, elbows on knees, runs a hand down his face, and shakes his head.
âSeriously?..â he mutters, voice rough and low.
He grabs his phone, finds your name, hits call. A couple of rings. You pick up.
âWell hello, mister,â you chirp cheerfully.
âAre you serious right now? You ran off. Out of my bed, like⌠who even does that?â he grumbles, voice still raspy from sleep⌠and something unsaid.
âSorry, Captain Morning. Some of us actually have jobs,â you laugh.
âWhat, and Iâm retired?â
âNo, you just looked too damn good sleeping. I couldnât bring myself to wake you. It wouldâve been a crime against aesthetics.â
âDonât change the subject,â he growls, though thereâs a grin tugging at his lips.
âI wanted you to stay. I wanted to⌠wake you up my way.â
âOoooh,â you purr, teasing, ânow that sounds like something I already regret missing.â
âWell, who knows. Maybe youâll get another chance.â
âOr maybe youâll get another chance,â you shoot back.
Thereâs a pause. And then your voice softens just a little:
âBy the way⌠my legs are still shaking.â
He freezes. Closes his eyes. Breathes in slow and deep.
âJesus, Y/NâŚâ he says hoarsely.
âOkay, okay, Iâm done. Iâm being a responsible adult now. I have a Zoom in ten minutes. Time to be a Serious Woman.â
âAnd now Iâm supposed to pretend I can focus on anything when all I see is you. Last night. This morning. You.â
âTough luck. Men like you are supposed to suffer gracefully.â
âThen donât be surprised if I show up at lunchtime with coffee⌠and very serious plans to ruin your very serious plans.â
âJust donât forget the coffee. Everything else is negotiable.â
He smiles. Wide. Hopelessly. Like a complete idiot.
âAlright. Go live your life. Catch you later, Mr. Serious.â
âCatch you later, Miss Shaky Legs.â
*credit to gif owner
Imagine thisâŚ
Somewhere on an occupied coastline. Evening. The wind smells like gunpowder and freedom.
He appeared behind you without a sound as always. Not a ghost. No. Ghosts donât smell like tobacco, metal, and something you almost wanted to call home.
âYou trying to go out a hero again?â
His voice rasped at your back that half-mocking tone he always used when he didnât want you to hear the worry underneath.
You donât turn around. Just stand there, right at the edge of the cliff, watching waves lick at the sand below. One hand tight around the radio.
âIâm no hero,â you say quietly. âAnd Iâm not suicidal. I just⌠couldnât sleep.â
âI figured you were waiting for me,â he says, stepping up beside you. Close enough for your shoulders to nearly touch. Close enough to make your heart trip.
You finally look at him. That look scruffy, half-squinting, like the whole damn world bores him⌠except for you. Thereâs a crooked smile on his lips. That smile. The one that made captains surrender and codebreakers forget their own names.
âMaybe I was,â you admit.
And just like that, the air between you tightens. Like the moment before a shot is fired. Apple reaches out slowly, laying his hand on your wrist right where your pulse is thundering so loud, it feels like the whole damn country could hear it. His fingers are warm. Rough. He doesnât rush it. He never does, unless someoneâs dying or needs saving.
âJust tell me one thing,â he says, eyes locked on yours. âIf I kiss you right now are you gonna stop me?â
You swallow. Heâs too close. Talking too low. Looking at you too honestly. And you want it too damn much.
âTry it,â you whisper. âFind out.â
So he does. Slow. Like itâs something precious youâre not supposed to have. Like he wants to memorize the taste of your mouth before everything goes to hell again. You kiss him back with the same heat. The same ache. Your fingers tangle in his hair. His hand finds your waist. Bodies pressed flush. The kiss stretches out like a truce between battles. Like a chance. Like the kind of life you mightâve had if things were different.
Heâs the one who breaks away first. Breathing hard. Forehead resting against yours.
âWhen the warâs over,â he whispers. âYou and me.â
âYou think weâll make it that far?â
âNo,â he says. âBut hell if Iâm not planning to.â
*credit to gif owner

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đImagine thisâŚ
You stayed at that damn motel on the edge of Charming, alone. You just needed to get away. From the town, from the noise, the memories, from him.
But he found you. Jax bursts into the room at 3 a.m. No knock, no call. The door slams against the wall behind him. He stands in the doorway, chest rising and falling like he ran the whole goddamn way. Leather jacket soaked, hair a mess, his face unreadable except for the storm in his eyes: desperation, guilt, hunger. The kind that eats you alive when itâs been caged too long.
You sit up on the bed, heart hammering.
âJaxâŚ?â
He doesnât answer. Just slams the door shut and crosses the room in three strides. Grabs your waist. Pulls you into him like youâre the only thing keeping him upright.
âI canât do this anymore,â he breathes out, rough and low. âYou hear me? I canât live without you.â
He kisses you. Hard. Hungry. Like heâs trying to wipe away every second youâve been gone. His lips are hot, trembling, aching. You taste smoke. Mint. And pure, unbearable longing.
His hands yank your shirt over your head no questions, no hesitation. You reach for his jacket he throws it off himself, lets it hit the floor like it means nothing. Then he drops you both onto the bed.
âTell me you missed me,â he growls against your mouth. âTell me it was hell for you too.â
âIâŚâ
ââCause I havenât slept a damn night. Iâve been a fucking ghost without you. And if you say ânoâ right now Iâm still not leaving.â
âYes. Yes, Jax. I canât either.â
He groans like those words just brought him back to life. His mouth trails down your neck, your chest, your stomach. His hands are shaking. Heâs trembling with how much heâs needed you. Your legs wrap around his hips like instinct.
He thrusts into you fast, deep, and doesnât hold back. Doesnât want to. His groan is raw, low in his throat like heâs finally home.
âYou. Are. Everything. You got that?â
âYes, Jax. Always.â
He moves like heâs trying to erase reality, drive everything else out of existence. Every thrust like a heartbeat. Every word a mix of breath and growl:
âNot letting you go again.â
âDonât.â
âYouâre not walking out.â
âI wonât.â
âNo more nights without you. Not one.â
Time disappears. He takes you over the edge more than once. His hands grip yours. Your neck. Your thigh. Like heâs terrified youâll vanish if he lets go.
~~~
When itâs over, youâre lying beneath him trembling, ruined, and completely whole. His face buried in the crook of your neck. His breath shaky and deep.
âIâm not going anywhere again, you hear me?â he murmurs. âEven if the whole fucking worldâs against it Iâm staying.â
You run your fingers through his hair, voice barely a whisper.
âYouâre the devil, Teller⌠but I love you anyway.â
*credit to gif owner