The Mentalist, Hallelujah, Teresa/Grace
Title: Hallelujah
Fandom: The Mentalist
Pairing: Teresa Lisbon/Grace Van Pelt
Rating: Umm... PG-13.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Just borrowing for fun, so don't sue me. Kthnx.
A/N: I was inspired by Kate Voegele's rendition of the song Hallelujah. I used some lyrics from that song, kind of changed 'em up for the sake of my fic though.
Hallelujah
Grace breaks you.
Not in a bad way, like when you dripped your mother's fine China that one time when you were little, but in a good way that makes you feel alive and tingly inside.
Her body close to yours, her red hair cascading over her shoulders, framing her face like a halo of fire, those green eyes shimmering in the light of the candles. Those are the things that matter now.
Not the fact that you had a horrible week, a gruesome case. Not the fact that you're almost too tired to speak, let alone think. No, none of that matters now.
The fact that Grace's lips are now tracing a hot, wet trail over your collarbone, her fingers working gentle and sure inside you, bringing you slowly to the edge. That's what matters.
The fact that this woman, this beautiful woman who could win your heart all over again with a single smile, is touching you, holding you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as she brings you closer, is the only thing that means anything to you.
She breaks you in the most perfect way. It's so perfect that you're sure you've never wanted to be broken so badly in your life.
She breaks you like only she knows how.
From the inside, out.
And from your lips, she draws the hallelujah.
When you simply can't take the rightness of this anymore, you tip over the edge.
And every breath you draw after that is hallelujah.
Fandom: The Mentalist
Pairing: Teresa Lisbon/Grace Van Pelt
Rating: Umm... PG-13.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Just borrowing for fun, so don't sue me. Kthnx.
A/N: I was inspired by Kate Voegele's rendition of the song Hallelujah. I used some lyrics from that song, kind of changed 'em up for the sake of my fic though.
Hallelujah
Grace breaks you.
Not in a bad way, like when you dripped your mother's fine China that one time when you were little, but in a good way that makes you feel alive and tingly inside.
Her body close to yours, her red hair cascading over her shoulders, framing her face like a halo of fire, those green eyes shimmering in the light of the candles. Those are the things that matter now.
Not the fact that you had a horrible week, a gruesome case. Not the fact that you're almost too tired to speak, let alone think. No, none of that matters now.
The fact that Grace's lips are now tracing a hot, wet trail over your collarbone, her fingers working gentle and sure inside you, bringing you slowly to the edge. That's what matters.
The fact that this woman, this beautiful woman who could win your heart all over again with a single smile, is touching you, holding you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as she brings you closer, is the only thing that means anything to you.
She breaks you in the most perfect way. It's so perfect that you're sure you've never wanted to be broken so badly in your life.
She breaks you like only she knows how.
From the inside, out.
And from your lips, she draws the hallelujah.
When you simply can't take the rightness of this anymore, you tip over the edge.
And every breath you draw after that is hallelujah.