#second person pov | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leighsartworks216 · 7 months

Text

You Hate Me

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Sooooo I wrote this one morning when even just laying down had my knees hurting and I was like,, well what if Tav had that too? Also inspired by the fact I get to campus an hour early and still try to rush to the (empty) classroom instead of, ya know, taking advantage of the huge time buffer I give myself

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of joint pain, insecurity, crying, possibly OOC, clown mention

Word Count: 1,545

Masterlist

AO3

Just a bit further. A little further and then you could rest. If you make it to that tree - make it to that tree and you can sit down. Just a bit left to go.

It started almost a week ago. Unable to cope with all the traveling, your right knee started bothering you. With every step you could feel your kneecap shifting back and forth with a dull click. Then, it started to hurt. Nothing serious. If you walked slow enough, you could avoid it. But now every step sent shocks of pain up your entire leg. Your left knee joined the party this morning, removing any sense of relief you had while walking. Even sitting down didn't remove the pain, but you couldn't afford a day off.

Your companions noticed the changes, despite your best effort not to show any outward discomfort. You moved slower, the occasional grimace slipped through, they weren't traveling quite as far. You consider asking Shadowheart for anything that could ease the pain, but you already knew there was little she could do to help. So you grit your teeth and kept going.

Your foot stepped on uneven ground and you nearly dropped from the agony that shot through your whole body. Karlach worried you might actually just collapse. But you kept going.

Astarion couldn't bear it. None of them could - they hated seeing their intrepid leader fight their own body just to go a few more feet - but your struggle settled like a boulder in his stomach. Every time your face scrunched up, every hiss of your sharp inhales, felt like someone had stabbed a knife in his chest and was twisting it ever deeper. He hated the feeling.

With only a few long strides, he slipped from the back of the group to the front, walking alongside you. He had to change his normal gait just so he didn't surpass you. "Darling," he hummed quietly, just loud enough to keep the conversation between you two, "you should rest."

You shook your head. You didn't even spare him a glance. Your eyes didn't shift from the tree. "We're almost there," you dismiss. It's slightly breathless. Despite needing to walk slow to avoid the pain, you were pushing to go faster.

He tsked. "And how far do we still have left to go?" He tilted his head as he looked at you, already knowing whatever distance you said would be too far.

You nodded to a tree dead ahead. "Once we reach that birch, we can rest."

"That birch?" He pointed. "The birch tree that's nearly half a mile away?"

He could feel you bristle with his incredulous tone, but you didn't say anything.

He scoffed. "My dear, I can be stubborn at the best of times, but this is ridiculous! You're barely staying upright as it is."

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not," he sharply cuts you off. He grabs your arm and pulls you to a stop, holding you there with enough force that you wouldn't slip out and keep going. You refuse to look at him even now. "You're wincing, your hands have been clenched for the last mile, and you keep stumbling. The tree will still be there if you just sit down for a minute."

The rest of the party watches from a distance. Far enough away they can just make out what Astarion's saying, especially as his voice rises in pitch the more frustrated he gets.

Standing still hurts. It's hard to say if it hurts more or less than walking; it just hurts. Your face is pinched as sharp jolts run up through your joints, like someone is poking you with a sewing needle. Walking, you decide, must be better than this.

"It's not that far," you insist, voice low. "And when we get there, we can-"

"Gods above, you're impossible! Fine. Fine! You want to get to that tree, fine." He lets go of your arm.

Before you can even take a step, he's sweeping you into his arms, supporting you with one arm under your back and the other hooked under your knees. The pressure hurts for a moment, but it quickly fades away. The lingering aches are from pushing yourself too hard. He begins marching once more toward your end goal.

You want to shout, to demand he put you down. But when you look up at his face, his eyes are sharper than usual, lips pulled into a tight frown and crease forming between his eyebrows. He's angry.

He's angry with you.

The words die in your throat. You hate being so dependent. You were the leader - you needed to be strong and fearless and without weakness. To receive help feels like someone plunging their hand between your ribs and stealing away a chunk of your worth. But seeing Astarion upset, upset with you, that stings far worse.

You avoid looking over his shoulder. You could just imagine their faces. How Lae'zel would scowl at you for being weak. How Gale's face would turn somber when he realizes you're not as capable as he thought. You couldn't bear it. So you press your forehead to Astarion's neck and stare at your lap.

There's an unwelcome burn at the back of your eyes. Shame floods your chest and crawls up your throat until it chokes you. Water pools along your lower lids and blurs your vision. You can't walk and now you're going to cry. Just how fucking pathetic can you be?

Astarion's head shifts and you can tell he's trying to look down at you. He's trying to see your face. Because he can feel you shaking in his arms. He can hear your lungs quivering as your breaths become uneven and choppy. You press your closed eyes against his throat and he can feel the hot tears against his skin.

His frown softens, though you can't see it. He slows down to a stop and tells the others to go on ahead, to the birch tree just there, and start working on setting up camp, but all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. Their faces become fraught with worry; Karlach is the last to go. She still looks back once or twice. Astarion finds a suitable rock and he sits.

"Shh, sweet thing," he cooes, voice no louder than a whisper. His arm around your back pulls you into his shoulder, hand tangling in your hair as he cradles you. His other hand rubs soothing circles along your thigh. You gasp around a sob, body curling further into itself, into him, as you release your emotions. "It's alright."

You strangle out an apology. It's wet and croaky and painful.

"Whatever for?" he asks.

"You're mad at me," you whimper.

He huffs. The frustration from before rises in him again just thinking about it. "Yes, I am."

He feels your breath catch in your throat, and the heaving breath you take after. "You hate me."

Astarion laughs, short and sharp. "Why would I hate you, dear? Because you're too stubborn for your own good?" You don't have a response for him. He kisses your head, wherever he can reach. "I'm mad because you put yourself out trying to solve all of our issues, but the moment you have one of your own, you refuse any help. You're going to tear yourself apart."

He sighs and rests his cheek atop your head. His fingers rub the nape of your neck, gently tugging at the hair there. You carry so much tension, it's a wonder your muscles haven't locked up from the stress.

Time passes slowly in his arms. It seems to take forever before you start to calm down, and even longer before your eyes have dried. He does nothing to speed the process aside from gently hush you when you try to choke out apologies.

You sniffle quietly. Your eyes are raw, and you're all too aware of the stain of water you've left on the vampire's neck. When you speak, it's a painful creak in your vocal chords. "You don't hate me?"

He presses another kiss to your head. "No, love, I don't hate you. Not unless you've done something truly horrific, like invite a clown to show up at camp in the middle of the night." You chuckle weakly. It's such sweet music. "Gods forbid you start donating to charity." You laugh this time, and Astarion's chuckle vibrates against your ear.

His fingers detangle themselves from your hair with one last gentle tug, and his arm wraps around your back once more. As though you weigh no more than one of his pillows, he stands once more with you in his safe grasp, and begins heading for camp. He can see Karlach up ahead light up when she sees you're finally on your way.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I just feel so... useless, like this."

"Please, stop apologizing," he begs, dramatically. "Just say 'thank you' and we can move on."

You peel your face from his skin, dried tears sticking you together. You wince at how disgusting this must be for him. You lean up and kiss his cheek. He smiles at the affection. "Thank you."

Softer, he says, "Of course, my love."

2K notes · View notes

astrangerthatlovesyou · 5 months

Text

“It’s okay to not be okay”

Unless it impacts your work performance…

Or your grades

Or how you act

Or if it causes you to say no

Or if you’re harder to be around

Or if you need time alone

Or if you talk about it

Or show symptoms

“It’s okay to not be okay”

Unless you have trauma

Unless you have one of those “scary” mental illnesses

Unless it inconveniences me

Unless you’re undiagnosed

Unless you cry or scream or make a scene

Unless you don’t keep that shit to yourself

Unless you make me uncomfortable

Unless I can’t infantilize or fetishize you

Unless you have hallucinations

Unless you have psychosis

Unless you get angry

Unless I think you’re cringe

Unless you can’t preform hygiene tasks

Unless you’re disabled, or trans, or gay, or not white, or fat, or AFAB, or intersex, or a man… so I guess anyone

“It’s okay to not be okay”

As long as nobody ever finds out.

Our society has a severe issue with performative activism, and mental health is a huge example of this. Every time someone considers reaching out, they run through this list mentally. This is why true activists and resources need to be loudly supportive of all the things on this list. Take the subtext out of your support.

#repitition #tw repition #second person pov #second person tw #tw cursing #cw cursing #cursing #avpd #avoidant personality disorder #personality disorder #actually avpd #pd #pdid #did #mental illness #mental health advocate #ptsd #cluster c personality disorder #mental illness advocacy

1K notes · View notes

darknights04 · 1 year

Text

Sensing You

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x reader

Summary: You and Ominis have been friends for as long as you've been at Hogwarts. He's felt more for you for almost just as long. He's never thought about telling you, but that was until the new fifth year put you in great danger.

Warnings: Spoils for Hogwarts Legacy (obviously), pain, cruciatus curse, unedited, not proof read. Reader is not mc

Masterlist

When it came to you, Ominis was no stranger to the idea of the long game. You, Ominis, Sebastian, and Anne had been friends for as long as you could all remember. Ominis has had a crush on you for almost just as long. It was worst this year. With Anne staying home all your attention was turned to the two boys. Usually you would turn to Anne some days and have girl time between the two of you. Now, Ominis had nothing but time to grow more and more infatuated with you.

Ever since the new fifth year beat him in a duel, Sebastian had been mostly with them, giving you and Ominis even more time alone together. It was driving him crazy. Every time you laughed in the way that he loved, rested your chin on his shoulder to look at what we was doing, leaned your arm against his to whisper something during class. He had to hold himself back so he didn’t just grab you and slam his lips onto yours. One of the only parts of you he has yet to be able to identify. As children you would play games, Ominis feeling all of his friends’ faces and guess who was who, so he knew the general idea of what your face looked like. But your lips was a mystery to him. A mystery he badly wanted solved.

Today, you were sitting with Ominis in a corridor near the slytherin common room. You had spent most of the day trying to cheer him up after Sebastian repeatedly would bother him about Salazar Slytherin’s Sciptorium. You knew that he wanted nothing to do with dark magic after the hold it has had no his family for generations. Sure, Ominis had been exaggerating his hurt feelings just a bit, but if all it took was a little pouting to get you this close to him, then you best believe he was about to win an oscar for this performance.

“He just doesn’t understand how dangerous it is!” he complained with a dramitic sigh, smiling internally due to the hand you had running soothing circles across his back.

“He’s just trying to do anything he can to help Anne,” you replied, wanting to defend him.

“I know. I don’t like seeing Anne suffer either, same as you. But I know where this path leads, and it’s never a good place.”

Ominis’s internal smile fell as he heard you greet the new student Sebastian had befriended.

“What are you doing here?” He asked them with a small scoff.

That scoff, of course, resulting in a small smack on the shoulder from you, muttering a small “Manners,” in his ear. Ominis rolled his eyes, but the smile he had inside, reserve just for you, came back once more.

“Do you have a moment?” the new student spoke up.

Ominis didn’t want to, but he heard them out. After lying about Sebastian showing them the undercroft, Ominis has been wary about this student. Even so, he was feeling at ease due to your presence, and in turn agreed to show them where Salazar’s Scriptorum was located.

“I hope we don’t regret this,” he said with a sigh as he revealed how to access the door.

“We’ve just been sitting outside of it?” you asked with a chuckle, noticing you didn’t have to even move to be at the door.

Ominis shrugged, his internal smile showing through just a bit on the outside. “It was the first place I thought of.”

“First place you thought of to go and complain about the scriptorium?”

“Precisely.”

Before any of you knew it, Sebastian and his new friend had opened the door, ushering each other inside.

“I just hope we’re ready for this,” Ominis continued to sigh.

“We’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure.

“We?” Ominis had repeated. “You’re not coming.”

“What? Ominis you can’t possibly expect me to stay behind.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“If you’re going, I’m going,” was all you said, standing your ground.

“Y/n…” he had tried to coax. You didn’t say anything, hands finding their way to your hips. Ominis sighed. He knew you were stubborn, so he also knew there was no talking you out of this. “Fine.”

Your stubborn glare quickly faded into a cheek to cheek grin as you almost skipped next to Ominis, linking your arms together before making your way into the door, following behind Sebastian and the fifth-year who had already found their way inside.

Not that you would ever admit it, but hearing Ominis speak Parsetounge did something to you. Yes, the language often ties a witch or wizard to dark magic, and for Ominis it serves only as a reminder to his family, but that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate how attractive it was when he spoke it.

“It worked!” the fifth year spoke as the door opened. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.”

“It’s nothing,” he brushed off, retreating back towards you and linking your arms once more.

“Truly,” you agreed. “It’s fascinating.”

If you weren’t near positive that Ominis would never think about you in a romantic way whatsoever, you would have sword you saw a small tinge of red grace his cheeks at your comment. But it was probably just the lighting.

Once the door was open, the other two were fast to start figuring out the puzzles and the maze in order to get through the scriptorium. You and Ominis had stayed behind. Ominis wanted nothing to do with this, his job was just to open the door. You were curious about the area, yes, but Ominis was more important. You wanted to make sure he was okay. Usually throughout the days he would have plenty of distraction from his family and their legacy. But now? In the heart of Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium? All that surrounded him were reminders.

As the doors opened one by one, you all moved further and further until you reached a black door.

“Looks troubling,” was all Sebastian had said.

Ominis scoffed. “This whole place is troubling.”

As the other two went into the strange room, you didn’t budge. As Ominis was stopped from the firm grasp you still had on him, he turned towards you confused.

“I don’t like the looks of this room,” you whispered. “I have a bad feeling about it.”

“So do I,” he responded,his hand finding the top of yours to comfort you. “But for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “We’ll be okay.”

As soon as you stepped into the new room, the door closed behind you.

“The gate!” Sebastian called out, “We’re locked in… again.”

“Then Salazar Slytherin is not yet finished with us,” Ominis sneered. At this point, you began to panic. There was no clear way out. You began to lose even more hope when you looked in the corner and noticed-

“A skeleton,” the new student pointed out. “And Noctora’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here. Trapped by… and unforgivable curse.”

Your eyes widened. The incantation “crucio” etched into the floor suddenly making sense.

“No,” you said in a slight panic. “No there has to be some other way out of here. Another puzzle? Another brazier to light?”

“What?” Ominis asked, confused. “What are you talking about? What is it?”

“They know what we need to do,” Sebastian said plainly. “One of us needs to cast crucio.”

Sebastian turned to his friend by the door, discussing the curse with them while Ominis began to pace.

“Ominis,” you called to him. “Ominis relax, we will figure something out.”

“No,” he said simply. “No this all could have been avoided. I could have refused, we could have just gone to dinner. I could have protested more to you joining.”

“Ominis none of this is your fault.”

“Yes it is! Don’t you see? I put you in danger.”

“I chose to be here.”

“But you had doubts, and I assured you that it would be alright.”

“And we are alright. We’ll find a way around this.”

Before anything else could be said, they heard the new fifth year shout out “Crucio!” in Sebastian’s direction. The two of you looked towards the pair with wide eyes, about to call out towards Sebastion until… nothing happened.

“Did you do the movement wrong?” Sebastian asked.

“No,” they responded, shaking their head. “No, I think that I just couldn’t mean it. I care for you, Sebastian.”

“You have to try,” he urged.

“I can’t.”

“Cast it on me,” you spoke up suddenly, taking a step towards the pair.

“No!” Ominis had interjected quickly.

“They can’t cast it on Sebastian,” you began to explain.

“You can’t-”

“We don’t have the same connection so they could-”

“Not you!”

“Ominis,” you sighed, quieting your voice as you pulled him aside. “I will be fine.”

“I’ve felt the cruciatus curse before so I-”

“Shouldn’t have to go through it again. Let me do this, please.”

Ominis didn’t say anything more. You took his silence as a sign of agreement, so you approached the door.

“You ready?” Sebastian had asked you.

You nodded. “Ready.”

Ominis braced for the moment that the spell left their wand. He knew what to expect, but he’d never heard the sound of excruciating pain from you. That was something he was not curious to find out.

Ominis listened as the screams left your throat, as you fell to your knees on the ground. He expected this. He expected the screams to last for several seconds. But this was too long. If they had just cast the curse and left it at that, the pain would have subsided by now. This was prolonged for too long.

“Stop!” he yelled over the screams. “That’s enough!”

He waited for what felt like eternity for the screams to stop. For any sign that you were no longer in pain. But when your screams had cut off abruptly, it did not give him the relief he was waiting for.

“Y/n?” he asked into the silence. “Y/n are you okay?” Never had there ever been a moment in his life that Ominis had wished more that he could see what was happening around him. When you didn’t respond, he began to walk towards the door, calling Sebastian’s name instead. “What’s happened? Are they okay?”

When Sebastian didn’t respond either, Ominous really began to panic. “Answer me, Sebastian!”

“They fainted,” the student told him flatly.

“What?” he hissed, rushing to where he last heard your voice, hands failing about to try and find any sign of you. When his hand landed on your shoulder, he let out a small breath of relief, almost as if he expected you to have disappeared entirely. “I’m taking them to the hospital wing,” he then announced, following down your arm to find the bend of your knees, intending to pick you up.

“No!” Sebastian protested. “You can’t.”

“And why not?”

“They’ll know we were using unforgivables,” the fifth-year stated.

“What if we need you to open another door?” Sebastian commented at the same time.

“Glad to see you both care so deeply about their safety,” Ominis scoffed.

“You can’t carry them and use your wand to lead you both,” Sebastian continued, looking for another excuse to keep the boy there. “Let’s find the end of this tunnel and then we’ll take them there together, deal?”

Ominis sighed, head faced towards the floor. He didn’t want to delay getting you the help you needed, but Sebastian was right. He could crash you both into a wall and injure you further. As much as he hated to admit it, your health was in their hands now.

“Just hurry up, will you?” he muttered quietly.

---

When you finally awoke from your unconscious state, Ominis was asleep next to you. Looking around you noticed you were no longer in the dungeons, but instead in the hospital wing under watchful eyes. Well, not that Ominis could very well be included in that.

As you turned to look at the boy next to you, you moved as quietly as possible. Lacking his sight, Ominis seemed to have much higher hearing abilities than anyone else you knew, so you knew that any sudden noise would be enough to wake him. Your theory was proved correct as he stirred awake at the small ruffle of the sheet.

You watched as he opened his mouth, but no sound came out as if he changed his mind on speaking up. Instead, you saw his hand slowly reach out towards you, as if to confirm you were there.

“I’m awake,” you told him with a smile.

Ominis let out a small breath of relief. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded. “I didn’t expect it to last that long.”

“It shouldn’t have,” he said, almost with a sneer. “That new student had to curse on you for longer than it needed to be. All we needed was for it to hit you, they made it linger. They’re lucky I don’t go straight to professor Black and have them expelled.”

Ominis’s thoughts stopped in their tracks when he felt you lay your hand on top of his.

“I’m alright,” you assured him again. “Lay with me.”

“I- What?”

“Please? I don’t want to think about any of this anymore.”

Ominis sat still in thought for a moment, stammering slightly to himself before standing from his chair, feeling around the bed to make sure you were out of the way before laying down beside you. You layed your head onto his chest and exhaled deeply with a contented sigh. Ominis smiled gently to himself, his nose falling into your hair as he inhaled your scent. He decided then and there that it didn’t matter that he could never see you. Every other sense he had t otake you in was just fine for him. Your voice was enough to bring a small smile to your face, your laugh even more so. Your smell felt like home to him. He could tell you were in a room just by the smell of your shampoo. He could pinpoint which brand it was in a shop just with a small whiff alone. The touch of you skin never failed to comfort him in times of distress. The soft, delicate touch of your hand on his would always bring a smile to his lips. Your taste.. He was yet to be abpe to experiance. The only one of his available senses that has yet to experience you. The rest thought you were perfect, he could only imagine that would be the same.

That is, assuming he ever decides to do anything about his feelings for you.

For now, however, this was enough for him.

Part Two

#ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #gaunt #slytherin #sebastian sallow #anne sallow #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #harry potter #crucio #second person pov #x reader #fanfiction #dark magic #mc #angst

5K notes · View notes

aethes-bookshelf · 2 months

Text

let me be your shelter || astarion/gn!tav

This is the result of an especially hectic exam season. I started writing this fic instead of having a meltdown lol Now that I have more time again, I decided to finish it :) I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: hurt/comfort (mostly comfort), gn!Tav (can be read as a self-insert), Tav/Reader is the one being comforted

Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Summary: You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. Even after everything you'd been through, you put on a brave face. All the way up until you couldn't.

Luckily, Astarion's always there to pick up the pieces.

ao3 link

The sun was setting outside when you finally closed the front door of your house behind you, cloaking the entrance corridor in darkness. The straps of your pack were digging quite painfully into your shoulder, no doubt leaving angry marks on your skin. You threw it to the floor with a huff and closed your eyes for a moment,

The day's exhaustion rolled off of you in waves; hours worth of dust and grime stuck to your clothes and skin. Rebuilding the city after the Battle of Baldur’s Gate was a noble cause. It being noble, however, didn’t make it any less exhausting.

You tried running your fingers through your hair, but your hand almost got stuck in it instead. The firm tug against your scalp made your eyes water. Your back was on fire, your legs were on fire, your face was tacky with drying sweat. It was all so much, too much.

Curling up in a corner and staying there until the sun fell out of the sky seemed worryingly appealing. I still have to go back out there tomorrow, though, you thought. The ugly, choking pressure in your throat got tighter and tighter. Your eyes, still clenched shut, brimmed with tears.

‘Darling?’ called a familiar voice from somewhere on the other side of the corridor. ‘Why are you just standing there? At least light a candle or something. It’s not like you can see like this,’ the voice continued, getting closer.

There was the hiss of a match being lit; one, two, three candles lit up the darkness.

‘Well, not that you can see much with your eyes closed, anyway,’ said Astarion. All snark left his voice when he saw the first tears roll down your cheeks. ‘Oh, I wasn’t that mean, was I? Why are you crying, love?’

‘I-I’m sorry.’ Your voice broke. ‘I don’t- don’t know why, I’m just- just so…’ you trailed off as the first sobs tore out of your chest.

Just a few months ago, Astarion would be looking like a deer in headlights right about now. He still remembered the very first time you broke down after the whole Absolute-tadpole nonsense was over. After everyone else went their separate ways and you chose to stay to help rebuild the city and he chose to stay with you. Naturally.

The breakdown happened soon after. The second night the two of you slept in your brand new bed in your brand new house, the dam inside you just broke, shattered into pieces; and you were swept up in the current of the build-up grief and fear.

Astarion, as much as he loathed to admit it, panicked. He had no idea how to comfort people; after all, it wasn’t a skill necessary for survival for most of his life, so he never really bothered to learn it. He still hadn’t even after whatever the two of you shared at first turned more serious. You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. The stable one. The stable one never gets to cry, so you didn’t.

As ashamed as Astarion was when he realized it, he hadn’t even thought you could cry. It just never really crossed his mind.

Luckily for the both of you, he loved you far too much not to learn from his mistakes after that very first night of the rest of your life. He’d like to think he got comforting you down to a science.

‘Would you like a hug, my sweet?’ Step one was almost always physical contact. And not just because holding you became one of his favorite pastimes; rather, it was grounding for you to have something to hold onto when you got like this. Astarion would gladly volunteer to be that something whenever he could.

You didn’t trust your voice enough to answer, so you just nodded instead. You were starting to tremble; rarely a good sign. Whatever stress-induced breakdown was happening would probably be a big one.

Astarion knew better than to try to wrestle you from the spot you were standing in. It would do nothing except agitate you further, so he simply walked up to you and gathered you into his arms.

The moment you were close enough to hide your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs that had been building up inside you this entire time wrecked your body. You were wailing loudly; so loudly you’d be embarrassed if you had enough energy left in you to care.

Astarion winced slightly at first — you were close enough to his ear for it to hurt. Still, he held you closer, firmer. Just enough pressure to help you calm down.

Eventually, your wailing died down to sobbing, and sobbing turned into soft sniffling. He tried to run a hand through your hair; his fingers nearly got stuck in it, just like yours before.

‘Would you say no to a bath, darling?’ he said, voice soft and quiet. ‘I got some new scented oils a few days ago. I even paid for them this time.’

That got a small chuckle out of you. Your throat was raw and your face was even more sticky now; a bath sounded wonderful.

‘I’d rather like a bath, I think.’ Your voice was all scratchy. You’d probably have one hell of a time trying to speak tomorrow.

‘Come on, then.’ Astarion kissed the top of your head and gently pried you away from his neck.

Usually you were the one leading him everywhere; he supposed in moments like these it was his turn to lead you instead. He walked you to the bathroom, holding your hand. And he didn’t even comment on the snot you left on his shirt, which was a great show of understanding on his part — as far as he was concerned — although he did take it off and throw it in the laundry basket as soon as the two of you entered the bathroom. All his love for you didn’t mean he’d be okay running about in a snotted-up shirt.

He sat you down on the floor near the bathtub and filled it with water. He smelled each of the new scented oils with great consideration. The last thing you probably wanted at the moment was having to pick which oil to put in your bath, so he wanted to make the choice for you — and to make the right one.

After the bath was all prepared, Astarion helped you out of your clothes and walked you to the corner of the bathroom, where he washed most of the dirt off your skin. Making sure you could properly relax also meant making sure you wouldn’t be soaking in dirty water, after all.

Soon enough, you were sitting in the bathtub with your eyes closed. Right after helping you inside the bath, Astarion ran off to grab your favorite hairbrush. And now, he busied himself with detangling the mess your hair had become over the course of your day. He talked and talked all the while — about his day, about this awful thief he managed to thwart the other night, about the shopping trip he went on the day before — about everything and nothing, just to keep talking. Just to fill the silence with noise that would drown out your screaming, tired mind. He didn’t expect you to answer; it was enough that you listened.

After your hair was brushed, washed and conditioned, Astarion dried you off and brought you a freshly washed set of pajamas.

‘You need to sleep, darling,’ he said, handing you the clothes. He knew you were far too tired to argue with him on that. As endearing as your usual desire to stay up with him for as long as possible was, you needed rest — badly.

‘Will you stay with me?’ you said. You felt much better now that all the grime was off of you, but the thought of laying in bed alone made you want to cry all over again.

‘As if I’d ever leave,’ scoffed Astarion as he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom.

The coldness of his bare chest was a much needed comfort. You nuzzled closer to him as he threw a thick blanket over the two of you. He reached over to his bedside table.

‘I could read for you, if you’d like.’

You mumbled out a ‘yes’. Your eyelids were so very heavy, but the idea of hearing Astarion’s voice rumble in his chest right against your cheek sounded lovely.

He chuckled to himself. ‘You’re adorable when you’re tired.’

He started reading. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was reading, rather to the sound of his voice itself. The individual words and sentences blurred into one, continuous rumble. Listening to him speak felt like falling deeper and deeper into a pile of the softest pillows.

You were out before Astarion could finish the first fifteen pages of the book. He noticed by the end of page twenty. When he did, he gently put away the book and held you tighter against him. And he may or may not have left a few kisses on your forehead, but that’s neither here nor there.

Astarion got comforting you down to a science. And he was damn proud that he was the one you trusted to comfort you in the first place.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #gn!reader #gn!tav #unnamed tav #fluff #domestic fluff #hurt/comfort #fluff and angst #bg3 #astarion #my writing #bg3 astarion #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #second person pov

556 notes · View notes

justaweasel · 2 months

Text

I always imagine MC getting summoned into the Devildom in different ways at the start of the game, but this one has STUCK so I'm screaming into the void to get it out of my personal void

You had just finished with your little project. For some reason, you had wanted to create a piñata. It was a fun little project and after you could destroy your creation in a plethora of ways. It'd be almost therapeutic.

As you got up to wash your hands of the weird flour (can be too glue btw) , water mixture. For the split second that you blinked, you had blipped into an entirely different room. You looked around, obviously confused. There were a few men there, in a weird court-like room. You wanted to rub your eyes to make sure what you were seeing was really true, but refrained from doing so due to.. the state of your hands.

Wait.

Your hands...

You looked down and then up again, down, up, down, up. You saw the look on their faces. Some confused, some flustered, some amused, and others completely indifferent. In a rush you had tried to explain yourself.

"This is papier-mâché, this is papier-mâché, this is papermache, thisispapermache, thisipapermache!" Your words sort of blended together as you frantically tried to justify the.. that on your hands. The man on the highest chair, the red-headed one, chuckled and raised his hand to silence you.

There's probably more that'll pop into my head, but that's all for now :3

(Just imagine Asmo ribbing you later when you make a pact.

"Was that reeeeaaallly papier-mâché?"

"Shut up.")

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me asmodeus #obey me mc #second person pov #obey me headcanons #drabble

571 notes · View notes

beesonhoneytoast · 6 months

Text

“I’m hopeless without you.”

♡ Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader ♡

synopsis: on his day off, mike hears that you were involved in some freak accident at work. he wastes no time in getting dressed and driving to your workplace. however, when he calls you, something bizarre happens. cws: hurt/comfort, established relationship, mike being a narcoleptic mess and a disaster pansexual (?), crying, confusing dreams for reality

~800 words | divider creds @firefly-graphics

Mike runs out into the living room, putting on his shirt as he rushed out of his bedroom.

Abby is lying on her stomach watching cartoons but turns her head at the sound of her big brother shuffling around and panting. “Mike?” She called for him.

“Y/n was involved in an accident. I don’t have time to call anyone to watch you, so get your shoes on. We’re going to find them.” He explained, hopping on one foot as he put his shoes on. He grabbed the keys as Abby slipped her little Mary Janes on.

The two Schmidts went outside and Abby rushed to the backseat on the passenger side of Mike’s car.

Mike got the front door of the house locked after a moment (as trying to do anything with trembling hands is understandably very difficult). Mike slammed on the gas after hurriedly backing out of the driveway, and he pulled out his flip-phone, selected your number on it, and put it to his ear. Every time, however, he was sent to voicemail. He left a message every time he was.

“Y/n, it's me, Mike.”

“If you're alive, Y/n, please reach out if you can.”

“Please Y/n, I- I'm hopeless without you.”

“Okay. The third time wasn't the charm, neither was the fourth. Maybe the fifth time will be the one? I dunno. I have no idea if or when you'll hear this, but... Ever since I've known you, I've felt... So at home. You're the only person I know who seems to care about me, and- I… I can't lose you. Please.” Mike said into the phone.

“Mike?” Your voice came from the receiver, laughing slightly.

Mike’s heart nearly leaped out of his ribcage. “Y/N?!” He shouted. He was so alarmed because your voice sounded perfectly okay. “This- isn't some sort of prank, right?” He whispered in denial.

Your airy chuckles came crackling over the phone. “Mike, I'm okay. I'm at work. I just went on break and saw you were sending me like, three or four voicemails. Is everything okay?” You asked him seriously now.

Mike pulled over on the side of the street and teared up in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair after putting the car in Park.

Abby was very confused by this entire situation. She was looking out the windows with her brows scrunched. “What's going on, Mike?” She asked.

“Ah, I hear a certain little girl is there with you?” You teased.

“Yeah, uh…” Mike mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen, I- I have no idea what happened. I just heard you were in danger and I panicked and didn't think things through and-”

“Oh, Mike. I'm coming over to you. Are you out of the house already?” You asked.

“I'm… right next to your work building, actually.” Mike chuckled breathily.

“Ah, I see. I'll be right out, okay?” You told him.

“M’kay.” He muttered, sniffling slightly, causing you to frown.

“I’ll see you outside.” You said before hanging up.

Mike pulled into a parking spot in front of your workplace and you walked right out the front door and trotted towards his car. He couldn't believe it.

There you were, perfectly fine and alive. You got in on the passenger side of the car. “Hi, Mike.” You greeted him softly.

And just like that, the man crumbled, and tears spilled. He hid his face in his hands and his shoulders shook with each sob.

“Oh, come here, buddy.” You cooed, unbuckling his seatbelt and hugging him over the console between the both of your seats. You pet his messy hair softly. Clearly, he had been in a rush to get here to you, for he didn't have the time to brush his hair and get himself tidy. “It's okay. I'm here, I'm okay, I'm alive.” You whispered reassuringly, holding him to your chest as best as you could in this awkward setting of the front seats in his car.

Eventually, you had all gotten home and you made dinner, as you felt obligated to, considering you unintentionally scared Mike that day.

Once Abby was sent to bed, Mike revealed that he had a dream that you had gotten into an accident at work, and to him, it felt so real that he believed it was reality.

“I’m so sorry that happened, baby. Dreams are so weird.” You told him, hugging him for the nth time that night.

Mike had a special little spot under your chin and on your collarbone where he could just bury his face into. He whimpered softly, holding your shirt in his balled fists.

You kissed his forehead softly as he relaxed in your arms, moving his head down so it was now in your lap, resting against your thighs and using them for pillows. You played with his hair and hummed softly, the quiet sound of your singing gently lulling him to sleep, and soon you found yourself joining Mike in the realm of dreams.

>> end.

#five nights at freddy’s movie #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys #fnaf mike #mike schmidt #hurt/comfort #tw nightmares #tw night terrors #poor little meow meow #poor baby #unemployed #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson simps get y’all’s juice #mike schmidt x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #second person pov

352 notes · View notes

cursedkeyboard · 3 months

Text

BIG BROTHER'S HERE ● Older brother!Suguru & Baby sibling!Reader

You've been having nightmares about monsters lurking in your closet for a couple of days now. Suguru, your older brother, knows something is wrong with you.

Pairings: Platonic Geto Suguru & Baby sibling!Reader

Warning: Not proofread. Expect mistakes and edits!

If there's one thing Suguru had always been sure of, is that he knew you

Your parents had you when he was nine, most ten, so innocent and excited to be a big brother

He got to see you when you were just a bundle of hospital cloth, loud whines, and large eyes

No, really, your eyes took half of your face

You were the cutest thing he'd ever seen

From that day on, Suguru had sworn to be the best big brother to ever exist

He'd teach you everything he knew, help you with anything you wanted, and always protect you

Family and friends even called him your "second dad" whenever they saw Suguru putting you to sleep or feeding you or playing with you or...

Yeah, the kid loved being glued to you

Sure, he still had friends and his own interests like any other kid his age

But Suguru would rather be caught dead than to give up chances to spend time with you

He even begged his parents to let him take you outside in your stroller for sunlight and fresh air

It took then a little bit, but they eventually allowed him

Their neighborhood was safe, there were rarely any kidnapping cases around, and they only let him once you were one and he was eleven

As you grew up, Suguru definitely honored his promise by being the closest person to you

Always near, always helping, always nurturing

He knew your favorite type of baby food, the exact warmth you liked it at, the blankets you favored and the toys you never allowed anyone to take

Suguru would take naps with you on his chest, sing you to sleep when you woke up screaming, and play with you until you exhausted yourself

He was always there for you, especially when your parents were busy

So much so, in fact, that your first words weren't mama or papa

It was gu–gu

Yeah, some could say you were just being a baby and babbling, but he knew better

Because you had looked up at him, grabbed his hand with your tiny ones, and said it with a big smile

Don't tell anyone, but he definitely cried while hugging you

You'd eventually be able to say Sugu, then Suguru when you learned to roll your tongue, but Suguru would always hold that memory dear to his heart

And so, years passed quickly

Perhaps too quickly for your big brother, who would always feel his heart ache a little when his baby sibling didn't need help to do basic things anymore

But he was happy, overjoyed, that you grew into a happy and healthy child, always so energetic and ready for any play or challenge

Of course, you two had your disagreements at times, because kids will be kids and Suguru reached puberty when you were four and learning how to be bratty and contrary

However, compared to so many other siblings in the world, Suguru was proud to say you were definitely the closest of siblings

There wasn't a single thing he didn't know about you

That's why, now that you were seven and learning taking a more introverted personality like his own, your big brother immediately knew something was wrong with you once you started getting sleepier throughout the day

Blinking slowly, barely eating, nodding off whenever the two of you watched cartoons

And, now seventeen and keenly aware of so much evil in this world, Suguru immediately sought to fix the problem

The moment Suguru picked you up from school he knew he was going to talk to you about what was happening. It didn't seem to be the kids or teachers in your school, since the moment you walked out and saw him you were smiling and happy like aways, that rush of energy still in you from playing with your friends.

"Suguru!" You called out for him, quickly saying your goodbyes to the kids around you and running towards your tall big brother who stood out in the middle of all the waiting moms. "You're early!"

Suguru picked you up the moment you got close enough, making you squeal and giggle as he settled him on his broad back, smiling softly at how your small hands settled on his shoulders.

"We got let out earlier," He explained and waved a quick polite greeting at your teacher before leaving, beginning the trek back home. "Satoru wanted to go to the arcade but I missed my baby today."

You giggled again, a sound that never failed to make Suguru relax and forget all his troubles, if only for a moment, and rested your head in the crook of his neck. "'Toru is a big baby, not me!"

"Hmm, maybe you're both babies?"

"No, not me, 'Toru," You shook your head and Suguru avoided people walking around easily, being so tall and nimble had its advantages. "I'm getting bigger and bigger, and Toru acts like a child when I do not."

Well, he couldn't argue with that.

Instead, Suguru started asking you about your day like he always did and, like he expected, you couldn't even make it through half of your rant about the teacher taking away the yellow sharpies from everyone before falling asleep on his back, completely out.

Which, that in itself wouldn't be bad, but you used to spend hours after school talking his ears off, drawing, and insisting to watch cartoons. He sighed and moved you to his front, hugging you to his chest protectively, so worried he could feel a headache stab the back of his head.

Suguru was a special grade sorcerer, top of the class, and the most reliable when it came to problem solving skills, but most of all Suguru was the best big brother there is and he was going to fix whatever was wrong with you.

Like he always did.

That day, after you napped for a couple of hours, Suguru sat you down on the couch once he made sure you ate and showered

While he detangled your hair from the mess it had became in School, he started slow

Asking you if there was anything going on these days

If you were having any troubles in school

Maybe a bully or a new interest that was keeping you up?

It took a bit of digging, because Unfortunately, you two were very much alike

Which meant you also hid your anxieties and problems, even if Suguru always ended up finding out anyway

With a couple of deep breaths, you explained why you hadn't been able to sleep these days

Every night for the past week, you were getting nightmares

Nightmares about monsters, hideous creatures that would suck people's happiness then eat them bit by bit

And every time you woke up gasping and afraid, the door to your closet was open the slighest bit

Hesitantly, like you were afraid of being called a liar or made fun of, you told you brother you swore you saw something inside

Watching you. Waiting for something. Hungry.

And Suguru?

Not once did Suguru stop gently brushing your hair, keeping his hands steady and movements soft, which had a calming effect on you

But god, he could feel his body shaking under his skin

Fury threatening to bubble and spill over

Because those vivid nightmares, your exhaustion, the way you always looked so drained each morning...

He knew exactly what that meant and he couldn't possibly be angrier

Instead of scaring you with the face he was doing, Suguru started drying your hair, and once you finished talking, he hugged you close, comforting you

"It's alright, little one, I got you, big brother's got you."

That night, Suguru easily convinced you to have a sleepover in his room, full of your favorite stuffed animals and blankets

And when you were all tuckered out after talking tons and watching your favorite movie, snoring softly under Suguru's heavy covers, the teen left his room quietly

Slowly, he made his way towards yours

Shadows followed his every step, licking at his feet and dancing with each breath he took

The air shifted as he made his way inside, closing your door behind you, like it knew he was there

He pulled the door to your closet open, his movements ghostly as rage made his purple eyes almost glow in the night

The curse inside, a weak, puny thing he hadn't been able to sense, trembled under the taste of his erratic cursed energy

So pathetic and small

Fucking inconsequential

That thing dared to mess with his baby sibling

Make his baby sibling lose sleep as it sucked happiness and energy

So he did it slowly

Ripped it in pieces, bit by bit, until it was but a splatter on the floor

That night, he went back to his room after washing his hands and face, heart beating fast from the hatred coursing through his veins

Suguru lifted the blankets and tucked himself by your side, pulling you gently until he was curled around you

Then, only then, as you slept fitfully in his arms, safe and peaceful, he was able to calm down and relax

He would do better, grow stronger, kill every curse that dared to step food in a 100 mile radious of you

But Suguru knew there needed to be change

Curses had to disappear completely, one way or another

And Suguru would find a way, if not for the safety of his friends, then for yours

He would never let anything hurt you

No matter the cost

271 notes · View notes

ac3ifix · 2 months

Text

Tsukishima headcanons!!

FTM AND BOTTOM MALE READER

(staring off strong with a haikyuu fic!!)

* He lovesss thighs. grabbing? sure! groping? sure! kissing/biting? absolutely! he adores them.

* (Ftm) He will always check in on you to make sure youve taken binder breaks, he likes to place his hand on your chest and make sure your breathing it normal

* He will def make fun of your height

* (Ftm) If you’re on the team he will definitely make sure youre wearing trans tape and not a binder during your games

* He loveess to edge you, he wont let you cum until youre crying, begging, and PLEADING with him to let you.

* Definitely has a safe word with you

* Sometimes he’ll just shove a vibrator into you and let you moan and cry during a car ride or something

* Loves when you sit on his lap

* Loves to let you grind against his thigh

THATS BASICALLY IT!! LMK IF YOU WANT ME TO ADD MORE <33

#male reader #x ftm reader #ftm reader #x male reader #smut #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishimaxmalereader #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #second person pov

164 notes · View notes

waterdeepweave · 4 months

Text

his velvet nightshirt (18+) - gale x reader

Turns out Gale just doesn't really like to get naked. He's very here for sex. Just... not naked. (prompt)

Tags: gale x gender neutral tav (no explicit genital description), second person pov, clothed sex, dry humping, hand jobs (male receiving), communicative sex, constant checking ins, fluff and smut

read here on ao3, or under the cut:

As much as the two of you vowed to find more time alone, the adventuring road left little room for more things than short, quiet moments. Even the nights crept up on the two of you in equal measure, desire washed away by the heaviness of sleep, spent in each other’s arms.

It wasn’t until the road led to Balder’s Gate that you found yourself in the presence of a reprieve – and, mercifully, a private room at the Elfsong Tavern.

You spend the first part of the night in polite company with each other, an unspoken agreement to let the anticipation build. Or perhaps to warm yourselves up, acclimate to the mood of indulgence – something neither of you had entertained since long before the nautiloid. Gale sits on a padded sofa by the fireplace, nose-deep in a book, and you curl up beside him, feet on his lap, reading from the same book once in a while. But for the most part, you admire him – his features lit in the glow of the fire, a flickering orange fleck in the endlessness of his brown eyes, deep pools of warm chocolate. The way his fingers glide over the page before he turns it – a flick so gentle you can almost feel it on your own skin.

His chuckle rumbles against your face, and you sit a little straighter, reading from over his shoulder. You frown, confused as to what could possibly be so amusing about the ethics of necromancy. The words swim before you, melting into the glow of the fire, and you find another warmth growing in the core of your belly. You crane your head and press a kiss into the crook of Gale’s neck.

“Hmm? Mmm.” Gale lets out something between a query and a sigh of contentment, his right arm leaving the book to wrap around your waist, nudging you closer to him. His left hand – and his attention – remain on the book.

Not for long, though. Not if you had your way.

You nuzzle his neck, your face rubbing between the soft velvet of his tunic and the warmth of his skin. Your cheek grazes against his beard and you nudge deeper, alternating between kisses and nuzzles. Your hand travels across the expanse of his shirt, plush fabric beneath your touch, his heartbeat pulsing strong underneath. Your hand rests on a pec and you give it a gentle squeeze.

That catches his attention – his heartbeat quickens underneath you, and shadows flutter in the periphery of your vision as he sets down the book, clearing his throat.

“Well. What do we have here?” His voice is sticky with growing lust as he shuffles you so that you are straddling his lap, kneeling on the seat. “There we go. Hello, my love.” Gale leans forward to greet you with a kiss, but you keep your face aloof, ever so slightly out of reach. You feel his grip on your waist tighten with frustration, and you grin, diving into his neck to lavish it with more kisses. You run your tongue along his jawline, fascinated by the texture of his beard. A soft moan escapes his lips, even as he turns his head instinctively, inviting you to taste him, to mark him all over. His hands begin to slide up and down your back, nails ghosting down your skin through the fabric, and your thighs bear down on his as you arch your back against his touch.

“Mm - ah, fuck,” Gale manages as you grab a fistful of his hair, greasy with the lack of wash and whatever product he slicks into it to keep it back. It feels luscious in your hands, as does the rest of him when you tug gently, sending him rising into you. “Please,” he groans, a hand rising to catch your cheek, bringing your face to his. His eyes were dark, oozing pools of desire, pleading, adoring, all at once. “Kiss me.”

He would make fun of you, after the fact, for how easily you folded at once, melted into his touch, letting him pull your lips to his, letting him capture you, taste you, have you. With a grunt, and a hand on each side of your ass, he pulls you toward him as your lips stay interlocked. You gasp a little in his mouth as you feel his growing bulge pressed right against you, so close to where you want it, and your hip jerks, desperate for the friction, desperate for his warmth. He chuckles at your wanton display and presses his hips upward into you, even as he holds you down with either hand.

It’s growing too much for you to bear.

Your hand slips under his shirt and you gather the hem in a fist, preparing to hoist the whole thing over him. Gale stops in his tracks, and a hand flies to catch yours. Your gaze flickers to his, and you unclasp his shirt. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how to say this,” he begins. From the way he trips over his words, you can tell he is nervous. You slip off his lap and sit next to him, a tentative hand resting on his thigh. He reaches for it immediately, interlacing it in his own.

“You do recall the last time we shared a night. It was… well, it transcended the body. So to speak.” You nod, remembering the feeling of sailing across stars, of being caught in his arms, and then another pair of arms, and then another. Weightless. Glowing, but not warm. A breath of cold air, so refreshing, but almost… clean.

“Such was the way I’d laid with another for many years in my life. Mystra, as you know. Then you. I realise now I had led you to it without asking for your preference, and for that I apologise. I was… eager to perform, and the familiarity gave me my best chance.

“My point is, it’s been quite a while since I’ve slept with someone on the… well, mortal plane, shall we say. Body to body. And that’s not saying I don’t want to – you, my love, are exquisite. However –” He clears his throat, somewhat in shame. “For the first time in a long time, of sorts, I’m suddenly finding myself rather… well, shy.”

“Gale, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You know I am equally satisfied to simply share space with you,” you say quickly, searching his gaze.

“Oh, no, it’s not quite that. I do want to have sex. Rather badly, if… well, if this is to be believed.” He gestures to his erection straining against his trousers, moisture weeping through the outline of his head. Your lips part at the sight, your breath catching in your throat, and it takes all of your concentration to focus on him, and what he has to say.

“What I’m saying is… for tonight, at least, I would prefer to leave my clothes on. If that’s alright with you. And before you take it personally, I would have you know I make Tara leave the room before I undress, back in Waterdeep.”

“Of course.” You reach up to kiss him on the cheek as you squeeze his hand.

“And for whatever it’s worth, you are more than welcome to take your clothes off. I think I would rather enjoy the sight, actually.”

“Is that so?” You flutter your eyelids at him, a look you know he cannot resist. “I may need some help with that.”

“Come here,” he growls, a dark glint of mischief in his eye as he pulls you onto his lap once more. His fingers tangle eagerly into your shirt and he slides it off hungrily, your undergarments joining it on the floor with due haste. His thumb flicks over your nipple, hard and sensitive, and as you arch into his touch you find his thumb quickly replaced with his tongue. You moan, your hands curling around his face as his hand moves to pinch your other nipple. The sensation shoots from your chest across your body like sparks of lightning, and your hands glide down his neck.

But then you find yourself faltering, pausing at his collarbones, half-obscured by his shirt. Gale notices you hesitate and resurfaces, his eyes meeting yours. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I’m… I’m not sure how to proceed,” you admit, a finger tracing the embroidery along the collar of his tunic. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I see.” Gale takes your hand.

“First of all, thank you. For this. For being so endlessly patient. I cannot overstate how much that means to me.” He presses a long kiss into your hand. “Shall I?” You nod.

“Guide me, Gale.”

With a soft moan, he guides your hand to his waist and slides it under his shirt, leading your palm up his torso, over the soft fold of his belly, and onto his chest. His shirt rides up as he does, exposing his skin to the air, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He drags your hand across his chest, gasping softly as your skin grazes against his pert nipples, and back again, the friction so delicious.

Understanding, you match his rhythm on your own, your fingers awakening to massage his pec, your thumb ghosting over his sensitive nipple. He rises against you, so responsive to your touch. Sandwiched between his tunic and his warm body, you press your forehead against his, letting your other hand slide under his shirt, toying with both his nipples at once. He groans at the sensation, throwing his head back.

“Fuck, I may come from this alone,” he rasps, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck. “You drive me insane, love.”

You dip your head with a smirk, deciding to nibble his chest through the fabric of his shirt. As your velvet-lined lips graze a particularly sensitive area he groans again, his hips thrusting up into you, his desire meeting yours. His heartbeat pulses through the fabric, and down where you are wet and wanting, swollen and sensitive, you feel it all the more.

“Fuck.” You grind down against him, holding onto his chest, the canvas of your trousers offering some form of friction – new to you, but somehow equally enjoyable, if not more. You rock your hips harder, chasing the feeling. “Fuck, Gale.”

“Fuck, say that again.” Gale slips a hand between your legs and begins to palm his bulge through his trousers. His body – and yours on his – sink even deeper into the sofa. “Say my name. Show me how much you want me.”

“Gale.” You gasp as you rock against his hand, feeling yourself grow closer with every motion.

“Gods above. Come here.” Gale grasps your hand and shakily brings you into his breeches, past his undergarments. “Please,” he whispers, and it is all you need to hear. Your fingers curl around his shaft, and as soon as it does he moans, his grip on you tightening. You stroke down his length and back up, your thumb swirling around his throbbing head, smearing precum all over. His hand reaches for your chest again, and you welcome his touch with a sigh.

“Gods, you are magnificent,” he groans as you continue to stroke his cock, slowing your pace and squeezing just a little tighter every time you reach the tip, and releasing it with a languid motion down his shaft once more. “And incredibly frustrating,” he adds with a half-mustered frown, even as the rest of him quivers at your touch.

You move your hand faster, and with a groan he thrusts up into your grip, shifting his trousers lower. He repeats the motion again, and again, until he finally nudges his cock free of his breeches, leaving it at the mercy of your touch alone. Encouraged, you quicken your pace, panting into the crook of his neck as your hand worked, feeling his chest rise and fall in quick succession as he thrust unevenly under you, too lost in ecstasy to keep time or tempo.

“I’m close,” he gasps, catching your hand over his cock. “Fuck, come here, grind against me.” He guides you over his bare cock, and you drag yourself against him, experimentally at first.

“Gods, your breeches… they feel wonderful. And damp.” He rubs two fingers down between your legs, and you flush at the knowing gaze he gives you, smug and heavy with lust. “Is that how I make you feel, my love?”

“Yes,” you breathe, rocking into his beckoning fingers. Gale removes his hand, relishing your whine, and replaces you over his cock. “Show me,” he growls into your neck as you wrap your arms around his’.

With a strangled moan, you bear down upon him, thrusting with abandon, chasing the friction of fabric sandwiched between throbbing, sensitive flesh. He groans at the sensation, drawing you closer, his hips twitching wildly underneath yours.

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck, I’m going to -”

Your own pleasure builds as you move even faster, clenching fistfuls of his shirt for leverage, your forehead pressed against his.

“Do it,” you gasp, a finger tracing down his jawline.

“Come for me, Gale.”

With a cry and a final thrust, he spills all over his shirt, crying your name as he does. Pearlescent streaks litter his purple shirt as he rides out the waves of his pleasure, his hips jerking wildly.

His desperate rocking against you is too much to bear, and you find yourself unravelling not long after, his name spilling from your lips as you come, wrapped firmly in his embrace, muffling your moans in his chest as you sink into him, gasping for breath, utterly spent.

“Oh, gods. Gods.” He chuckles softly, one hand holding onto you, the other tugging at his shirt, examining the sticky streaks on top of it. “I suppose I’ll have to give it a wash.” You laugh softly, nuzzling deeper into his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat. He nudges you off gently.

“One moment, love. Don’t want to get your face all sticky.” He pulls the shirt over his chest and lets it flutter to the floor before dragging you back on top of him. “There we go. Much better.” You hum in agreement – his chest made for an excellent pillow, and you weren’t one to complain for the warmth of his bare skin. Your hand curls into a fist in the centre of his orb tattoo, and he places a hand over yours.

“Did you enjoy yourself, love?” His free hand strokes your hair, and you nod, sleepy and sated, growing more so by the minute.

“I wanted to thank you again,” he murmurs. “For your understanding. And your patience. I felt utterly safe with you. Something I haven’t felt in a long time.”

“Funny you should say that,” you mumble against his skin. “I feel utterly safe, wrapped up in your arms right now.”

“An equal exchange, then.”

Gale wraps both arms around you, holding you closer to him. You have a feeling he would never let go.

He doesn’t, until the dawn comes.

#gale bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale smut #smut #pwp #nsft #balders gate 3 #bg3 #my fic #communicative sex MMHMM MMHMM #gale x tav #gale x reader #second person pov #fluff and smut #light angst #like a smidge of it #youngins avert thine eyes #minors dni

242 notes · View notes

an-eldritch-peredhel · 1 year

Text

You are the daughter of an angelic faerie and an elven king. You have grown up inside the only magical safe-haven of an increasingly apocalyptic land outside. You have wanted for nothing, essentially leading the perfect life, suffering and death playing little role beyond the abstract. Your father will never die, and your mother will never leave, but for tradition you are still crown princess and are educated as such. You love to dance and to sing.

You meet some kind of monster inside your mother's borders, a monster not of her or your making. It stumbled across you, dancing in the forest, bloody and travel-worn and weary and wide-eyed as it stares. You are stronger than it, but you run rather than lunge for the kill. You feel pity, more than fear. And something about him makes the part of you that you inherited from your mother sing.

He tries to follow you, for a year and a day. You are stronger, and faster, and stealthier, and you let him see you sometimes anyways. You are not convinced that he is not a monster, but nor are you convinced that he is.

Spring blooms again to the tune of your song, and you let him get closer than before until you run.

But you hear him speak for the first time. He is a speaker, and perhaps to him you are the monster. You do not run, and you do not kill.

He calls you "Tinuviel"

He calls you nightingale- a little songbird, plain and brown, with a lovely voice. They are your mother's creation, but he does not know this.

He calls you daughter of twilight- perhaps for your skin and eyes and hair, but perhaps because that is when he has seen you most.

He calls you singer- creator of the very fabric of the universe, skilled enough to deserve the title.

You are the most beautiful creature the world will ever see, the daughter of an angel and a king. He does not call you beautiful, or angelic, or princess. He calls you a singer, plain and brown, dark and distant as the approaching night.

He is bloody and travel-worn and weary and wide-eyed as you dare to step closer.

He called you nightingale.

You don't know what to call him, but you hope to find out.

#my writing #my headcanons #headcanon #silm fic #lay of leithian #beren and luthien #luthien #luthien tinuviel #beren #eldritch peredhil #second person pov #sorry but the vibes demanded it #big kudos to that one post that went #'luthien probably stopped for beren bc he called her nightingale acknowledging her skill instead of her beauty'#bc that was a big inspiration here #luthien gets a lot of my love but THE RELATIONSHIP IS TWO SIDED #BEREN MAKES HER FEEL LIKE HERSELF AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR SLANDER #also incredible vibes that luthien canonically worries beren is an orc at first afaik #like maybe problematic but. an eldritch demigoddess going 'you look like you're on my parents kill list of monsters. oh well' speaks to me #not pictured is beren trying to pull himself together w/ internal screaming bc 1) that *should not have worked*#he is as smooth as sandpaper. he is a vegan hobo bogman who talks to animals and is traumatized and hasn't showered in months #2) the Creature that is Looking At Him with its head tilted and eyes pinning and stalking closer with fangs and talons out #should be doing much more for his survival instincts and much less for his libido than it is #beren is certifiably Doing His Best and i love him #banged this out in 10 minutes in a daze of blorbo squeezing lets see if people like it lol

1K notes · View notes

thecaywild · 8 months

Text

Your morning POV

384 notes · View notes

leighsartworks216 · 8 months

Text

For A Cuddle?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Wrote this this morning bc the brainrot is real

Warnings: mentions of dried blood, referenced blood drinking and hunting

Word Count: 535

Masterlist

AO3

You're so tired. Your eyelids droop, almost fluttering shut, before you blink them open once more. It's late at night. You haven't slept at all. You certainly could, if you allowed yourself to give in to the warm embrace of dreams. But you didn't.

Astarion went out to hunt a while ago, and hasn't come back yet. This was completely normal. Sometimes he'd be out all night and only come back in the wee hours of the morning. Other times he was gone for just a few hours. You don't recall when exactly he left - so you can't really tell if it's been a couple hours or several. All you know is you feel wrong laying in your bedroll without him. There is an emptiness that could only be filled by him.

You were so tired - you didn't need him to be there to sleep. You could sleep now. And tomorrow you could ask him to lay with you until you fell asleep, before he goes hunting. But tomorrow was so far away. You wanted him beside you now.

"Still awake, darling?" Had you been more lucid, his voice would have startled you. He'd have laughed and remarked on your lackluster performance as a lookout. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."

You hummed noncommittally, rolling over toward the sound of his voice. He was kneeling by your bedroll. It was extremely reminiscent of the time he tried to sneak a bite. Now you freely allowed him a drink whenever he wanted it. "S'waiting for you," you murmur. He almost can't make out the words.

"Why is that?" he asks softly. His voice is so nice... His hand brushes through your hair. "Why did you stay up, my dear?"

"Lay with me?" It's almost a whimper. A plea.

He huffs a laugh. "You stayed up for a cuddle?"

You nod, leaning into his fingers as they gently detangle knots and massage your scalp. "Please?"

He doesn't say anything for a moment. He watches you force your eyes open repeatedly, trying to keep them trained on his face even as exhaustion blurred his features into a pale blob. Every time he runs his fingers from the crown of your head to the nape of your neck, they fall shut just a little longer. When he's quiet for too long, lost in studying your face, you make a sort of whining noise and reach clumsily for him. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

"Calm down, love, I'll stay."

You watch as best you can as he shuffles to lay down beside you. Before he can get fully comfortable, you're pressing your face into his neck and wrapping your arms around him. You don't complain when he continues to shift and get settled in. Once he does, however, he can feel your body fall slack in his arms. Your breath evens out against his neck; your heart slows to a steady thrum.

He presses a kiss to your head. Your hair is greasy, with flecks of dried blood scattered throughout, and you didn't smell too pleasant either. But you were soft and warm, and he couldn't find it in himself to care otherwise.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #second person pov #pov second person #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

1K notes · View notes

sleepy-gee · 2 months

Text

🍒 sweet as sugar - coryo/gn!reader

a domestic afternoon with your husband in your shared bakery.

➼ word count: 421

➼ trigger warnings: none! pure fluff.

a/n: little au where instead of becoming president of panem and a horrible person, coryo settles down with you and opens a bakery :] no hunger games nonsense, we're being cute today!

a sweet and comforting smell filled your cozy little bakery on this fine afternoon, only broken by the occasional ringing of the bell by the front door to signal that a customer had entered– for only being open for a few months, you were getting a lot of attention, which was a delight.

maybe around two years ago, coriolanus had won the plinth prize, and fulfilled his promise of helping you open a bakery with the prize money– he helped you secure the property, order ingredients, hire staff, and even became your personal taste tester for new recipes when he had the time. university kept him busy, but the idea of a quiet life with you became appealing, with coriolanus spending less and less time studying, and more time in your kitchen.

it wasn't a busy day, only a few orders in– which you were currently working on. with your sleeves rolled up to your elbows and apron secured tightly around your waist, you went to work on making the best damn cherry pie you could. clemmie's birthday was right around the corner, and you wanted to perfect the recipe for her special day. it was her favorite.

working carefully, you distributed the cherries evenly into the pan, sprinkling in the tiniest bit of cinnamon for some kick. a pair of warm arms found themselves around your waist, pulling you out from your state of concentration, and up against a sturdy chest.

"hard at work, i see.." coriolanus hummed against your ear, kissing your cheek.

"you ass! you scared me half to death." you laughed.

“my apologies, love. how can i make it up to you?” he asked in the same teasing tone.

you spun around to face him, cupping his cheeks with floury hands. he was dressed in one of the aprons as well, stained with a bit of flour. “hm.. let me think.. i might have to put you to work..”

“oh, how awful, to have to spend the day in your kitchen.” coriolanus chuckled before leaning in and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. you reciprocated happily, tasting something faintly sweet as you did.

“did you sneak another few of the brownies?” you asked when you pulled away.

coriolanus glanced off to the side. “so you caught me. it’s not my fault they're so good.”

you shook your head with a dramatic sigh. "what am i going to do with you, mr. snow?"

".. you could always kiss me some more."

"oh-" you laughed. "get back to work.."

133 notes · View notes

virescent-v · 8 months

Text

School Yard Bully

hi hello! a cheeky bingo req incoming!

could i request Emily x Reader with the prompt „I want to hear you beg”? Maybe a bit of enemies to lovers? <3

Filling the prompt for the lovely @prentiss-theorem bingo :)

Summary: Emily's had it out for you since you joined the BAU. What is her deal?!

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: Some light cursing. Surprisingly, no smut yall, sorry to disappoint ;)

You’ve busted your ass every single day since joining the BAU. You got the job on a whim, a chance connection between your previous boss and someone within the office. You didn’t ask too many questions; you were just excited for a once in a lifetime opportunity to show off your knowledge and skills.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that everyone found your presence…helpful. Most of the team had no issues with you, accepting you with open arms, showing you the ropes and learning as much as they could about you.

Actually, there was only one person who seemed to have an issue with your arrival.

Emily.

You weren’t really sure what the problem was. From the get go, she’s seemed to have it out for you in some way or another. At first, you thought it was just normal newbie hazing. But, it’s been months and she’s never warmed up to you.

She constantly berates you in front of others, never taking your suggestions seriously, always doubting the information you shared, finding second opinions from other team members when she could. She always found excuses to never be alone in the same room with you, always got out of doing interrogations, stakeouts, or assignments with you. She didn’t ask you any personal questions; hell, she barely tried to talk to you. If she did, it was usually snarky, sassy, and to be honest, a little rude.

At this point, you’d learned to try your best to stay away from her.

Hotch had noticed almost immediately that something was off. He tried talking to the two of you together about it, but both of you said nothing. He kept Emily in his office after you left, their voices raised from inside the office. She left not five minutes after you, slamming his door shut on her way out before leaving the office for the day.

No one else on the team seemed to know what was up with Emily either.

Penelope, JJ, Derek, and Spencer had all had separate conversations with you regarding her behavior, trying to get to the bottom of it. None of them had a clue.

Regardless of her behavior, you knew that she wouldn’t let anything happen to you in the field. She was no nonsense, and somehow that made you feel a little bit better.

Still, it pissed you off that you knew you hadn’t done anything to her, and yet, she was still a bitch to you.

At the six month mark, you could tell the team was getting frustrated by the lack of connection between the two of you. You oftentimes didn’t do after-work social gatherings because you didn’t want to make Emily hate you even more. She was here first after all.

“Oh, come on! You never hang out with us!” Penelope exclaimed, tugging on the sleeve of your blazer. “Just this once, please!”

You could feel yourself giving in to the temptation of a night with the group. After a hellish week at work, you could use the drink and some unwinding at David’s.

But, you knew that Emily was going, as her and JJ had been talking about what food from Rossi they were most looking forward to at lunch.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. “I don’t know, Pen. I’m not really feeling up to…all that,” you sighed, taking a sidelong glance at where Emily was in conversation with Reid.

Penelope sighed right back at you. “I know, sugarplum. But you two need to work out your issues. For the betterment of the team. And both of your sanities.”

You rolled your eyes, Penelope’s truthful words putting you on edge. You knew that you couldn’t let Emily bully you forever, but you really just didn’t have it in you to deal with her sarcastic comments tonight.

You crossed your arms before looking Penelope in the eyes. “Fine, I will go,” you said, Penelope whooping in excitement. “On one condition.”

Penelope’s face went straight, one of the most serious looks on her face you’ve ever seen. “Name it.”

You smirked. “You run interference and don’t leave me alone in a room with her.”

Penelope’s smile grew. “You got it, sweet cheeks.”

You and Penelope arrived at David's at the same time, heading immediately inside to his stocked bar, quickly making yourself a drink.

You had barely taken a sip before Emily was in your face, making some snarky comment about how you handled yourself during the case this past week. You could feel your irritation growing, even though Penelope was trying her hardest to distract and move the conversation along. JJ shuffled her feet, trying to pull Emily away towards the dart board Rossi had for a game.

For whatever reason, Emily wasn’t taking the hint or bait. She stayed focused on you, her dark eyes burning holes into you. You could feel the heat flushing up your chest, finding a home on your round cheeks.

You felt like the odd kid out, just like you did in elementary school. You didn’t deserve her hatred, her comments growing more and more fierce. You hated how well Emily could read you, even for someone who didn’t know you that well. She was finding every insecurity you had and digging her claws into them, overwhelming you.

Instead of embarrassment or shame heating up your insides, all you felt was fury. It had been months of rude ass comments and you were getting absolutely sick of it.

“Fuck off, Emily,” you all but growled. You watched as she paused for a second, almost as if she was in shock of you finally sticking up for yourself.

She quickly refocused, a slight smirk on her lips. “And if I don’t?” Her eyebrow lifted.

You scanned your eyes up and down her body, noticing how Emily’s body was almost leaning closer to yours, ready for a fight. Your expression mirrored her own. “You don’t know me, Prentiss, of your own doing,” you paused, watching as Emily seemed to be hanging on to your every word. “I’ll kick your ass if I need to. Now, leave me alone and let me enjoy my drink in peace,” you turned back to the bar, trying to find the rum to make yourself another drink.

Before you could, you felt two warm hands on your hips, forcibly turning you around.

You came face to face with Emily, her body so close with every breath you could feel her breasts graze yours, her arms on either side of you on the counter, closing you in. “I’d like to see you try, princess,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over yours, the smell of liquor present, but not overly strong.

At this point, you were absolutely fed up with Emily. You shoved her off of you, causing her to stumble a little over her own feet. Before you could rush forward, Derek was pulling you in the opposite direction, Hotch pulling Emily in the other.

“Enough!” Hotch yelled, causing the irritated banter between the two of you to stop completely. “I have had enough of this, whatever this is, between the two of you. It ends tonight.” He motioned to Derek, both of them dragging you off further into the house, shoving both of you into one of Rossi’s guest bedrooms.

Before either of you could make towards the door, you heard a lock click into place. “No fucking way,” Emily hissed. She tried the handle, finding it impossible to move. “Let us out! Come on guys, this isn’t funny!”

“No, what isn’t funny is your behavior towards each other for the past six months. It ends tonight. I’m serious,” Hotch spoke. “You two will stay in that room until you work whatever this is out.”

“You’re treating us like teenagers, Hotch! Now let me out!” Emily said, banging her fist on the door.

“I wouldn’t have to treat you like teenagers if you acted like grown adults. Have a good night, guys!”

You and Emily could hear multiple sets of footsteps leading down the long, secluded hallway away from the room.

“Those sons of bitches,” Emily muttered. “I will make them pay when I get out of here.”

You scoffed, drawing Emily’s attention once more. “Oh, come off it, Em. This is one-hundred percent your fault.”

Now it was Emily’s turn to scoff. “My fault? Mine?! How the hell is this my fault!?”

You rolled your eyes, the anger simmering just under the surface. “You’ve been a raging cunt since I got here, Prentiss. I tried for months to befriend you. To get on your good side. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t. So, I gave up. I stayed away from you.” You could feel the fight slowly leaving you, entirely spent on this ongoing argument.

You stared down at your hands, fiddling with the wristband of your watch, a nervous habit you’ve never been able to break. “I begged Hotch for a transfer, but he denied it. You’ve made my life hell since joining the BAU, Emily, so much so that I wanted to leave.” You sighed. “I don’t know what I did that pissed you off so much, but I’m done fighting with you. You win.”

You weren’t sure how you were going to face the team whenever they decided to let you out, but you could feel the blush staining your cheeks already from embarrassment. You wondered if this was going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back and force you to quit, a thought that’s been rattling around for a few weeks.

“The first day you walked into the BAU, you took my breath away,” Emily whispered.

Your head snapped up, trying to catch her eyes, but finding her facing away from you, her arms curled around herself protectively.

Emily chuckled humorlessly. “God, you were so gorgeous and bright eyed and excited and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to kiss you.” She paused, looking up, finding a dumbstruck expression on your face, your mouth hanging open in shock.

“Probably wasn’t the best way to go about things, ya know, but I settled into the middle school-bully your crush-ideal and it just stuck,” she sighed. “I think it was a way to protect myself.” Her eyes caught yours. “Because I knew that you were capable of tearing my heart to pieces.”

You felt about ten different emotions run through you at once. “Are you fucking kidding me, Emily?”

You watched as Emily instinctively took a step back, wincing at the tone of your voice. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, Emily. It’s my turn to talk now,” you said, making your way towards her. “You bullied me for months just because you had a crush on me?” You asked incredulously.

Emily went to talk, but you smacked your hand over her mouth. “You bullied me, Prentiss, when we could’ve been kissing this whole time?”

You found it almost comical how wide Emily’s eyes got, your sentence sinking in. You started to giggle at her attempting to speak with your hand still over her mouth. “Wanna try that again?”

She took a deep breath, settling her eyes on yours. “Can I take you out to dinner to make up for it?”

You closed the distance between the two of you entirely, your chest flush with hers. You could feel the quickened rise and fall of her chest, feel her stuttered breaths against your face. You trailed your hand down the side of her face slowly, watching her pupils dilate as you moved down her jaw, across her collarbone, before settling it on the middle of her chest, feeling the rapid pace of her heart beneath your fingers. “I want to hear you beg, Emily,” you smirked. “You owe me that much.”

Emily licked her lips, her smile growing large and sinister. She leaned forward, her lips brushing your ear. “Please, princess,” she emphasized the pet name, almost mockingly. “Let me eat you out. Sorry,” she cleared her throat. “Take you out. Let me take you out.”

You threw your head back and laughed, full bellied and loud. Your hand lightly smacked at her chest.

“Next Friday, seven p.m. sharp. Take me out and make it up to me, Emily.” “Yes, princess,” Emily winked.

------

A/N: thanks for reading yall :) I might turn this into a part 2 with smut but idk lololol

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x you #virescent v fanfic #prentiss-theorem bingo #prompt fill #no use of y/n #second person pov

377 notes · View notes

treysimp · 2 years

Text

“I don’t know how else to say this… do you want to make out on my couch?”

Part 1

GN!Reader x Savannahclaw (Leona, Ruggie, Jack)

Implied spiciness, but nothing beyond kissing and pawing at each other described.

Reader’s looks not described.

Other parts:

Want more TWST? Here's my Masterlist!

“Thought you’d never ask” Leona says cooly, in spite of the rosy flush slowly creeping up on his cheekbones.

His kisses are slow, savoring, unhurried. It feels like he is trying to memorize every square inch he can touch, his bright eyes squinting at you every time you desperate for breath, like he’s afraid if he blinks that he will miss something.

His hands are calloused from Spelldrive practice, warm and rough despite the way he trails his fingers over your skin like you might break.

Every sarcastic and sassy remark he would say in any other circumstance melting in his mouth, desperately pushing himself against you for that small bit of more warmth, that second more of touch, that single breaths length of how you smell, the softness of your hair and the way that you feel better than he had even imagined.

“Hey…” he quietly whispers, barely able to be heard. “I want you… can I…” he can’t even finish his sentence. He’s terrified, he got this far but… but what if you…

“…yes.” You are barely able to finish that single syllable before he’s on you again, face burning, hands shaking.

He looks so focused on being cool, on being suave and taking you the way he has in his dreams where you pulled him closer by his tie and whispered how much you want to feel him.

Pulling your jacket from your shoulders, slipping the buttons from the holes in your vest and pausing when he finally sees your skin. You’re burning hot, just like he was, your eyes, half lidded, burned into him and he had to remind himself that this was really happening yet again.

He kissed and stroked every inch he could reach, you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight.

—

“…it’s not funny to joke like that, you know? A guy could get the wrong idea.” Ruggie’s shoulders shook with his signature laugh, his hand desperately trying to cover the burning of his face at your suggestion.

You paused, eyes burning into his as you bit your lip in thought.

“…what if I want you to get the wrong idea?

Reggie’s eyes widened at the statement. You couldn’t be… not with him… right?

“Are you sure?” He felt so vulnerable, like he had pulled his heart straight out of his chest and held it out to you on a silver platter. He would be lying to himself that he would do anything for you to like him… to love him… but…

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He gaze snapped to yours and in what felt like a millisecond he was on you. His breathing heavy, his kisses like a man starved as he balled up his hands in the fabric of your shirt.

He felt so warm and so, so desperate. Ruggie’s self-restraint was like a rubber band ready to snap, muscles tense and feeling like he would devour you before you could even imagine to stop him.

Leading you backwards and pushing you down on you ragged couch, he climbed on top of you and immediately set to start ridding himself of all of his layers while his smiling eyes never left yours for a second.

“…I don’t want to scare you Prefect, but you do need to know that I’m a ride-or-die kind of guy.”

—

“…say that again?” Jack’s eyes were wide as they bore into yours, unblinkingly staring at your lips as if he could read different words on them and properly convince himself this was a dream.

With a sudden burst of confidence, you spoke each word with clear diction and emphasis.

“Can I kiss you?”

Jack swallowed loudly and nodded, though the shock on his face did not leave. He leaned his face closer to yours slowly, as if he was expecting you to take back your request at any time.

You trailed your fingertips to the back of his nape and slowly coaxed his lips closer until they met yours in a soft lock.

Jack’s eyes closed with a sigh as he melted into you, his stiff body language loosening as he draped himself on your body. When you finally separated, his eyes were glassy and unfocused, never leaving your lips as he spoke.

“…more.” He whispered, terrified that this whole situation was a fluke and that you would reneg on your request to kiss him at any moment.

You grabbed his hand and slowly sat him on your couch, slowly crawling onto his lap as he stared at you on awe.

“I’ll give you anything you want, Jack.”

*~*~*~*~*

Thanks for reading! Lmk if you have any requests I guess, I’ve never really tried to write fic before. I’m fixated on twst rn though so feel free to talk to me if you are too!

Love you, random reader!

2K notes · View notes