#<-this counts as book stuff too right so I can tag it as such? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thedreamlessnights · 2 months

Note

Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so

Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!

For Your Eyes Only

Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW

Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.

Word Count: 5.8k

After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.

You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it.

The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing.

Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.

What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.

Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long.

The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.

A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.

Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”

Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path.

“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”

“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”

“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”

And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.

“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel.

You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face.

Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.

When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.

“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.

“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”

Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch.

“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “You’re hurting her! Put her down!”

“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”

But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.

Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now.

“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”

“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.

“Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.”

Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same.

Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.

“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.

“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”

By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel.

The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”

It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best.

Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.

The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too.

You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees.

Nothing. You find nothing.

“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”

“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?”

He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”

“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”

A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”

Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.”

“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”

“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”

“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”

The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.

“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.

“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”

“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That’s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”

You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud.

“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”

You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.

You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.

Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.

When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything.

Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”

But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound.

Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.

Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?

Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.

In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”

Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood.

“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”

Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”

“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?”

Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”

He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.

There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.

When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.

The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision.

You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?

Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.

“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”

You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.

“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.

He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue.

Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.

He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.

Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind.

You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.

He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething.

And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.

After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief.

You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.

“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”

He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps.

You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him.

After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck.

Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.

One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.

When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.

Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.

You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.

“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”

“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.

“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”

“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.

And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.

You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it.

Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.

He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.

He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.

And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-

And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.

“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”

Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.

“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”

He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”

You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”

He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”

He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-

Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand.

You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.

Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again.

He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot.

For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.

You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.

“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”

And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.

“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.

“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment.

You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements.

Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.

You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble.

If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire.

He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.

Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”

You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”

He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.

“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”

Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals.

His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.

You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, darling.”

And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.

You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.

You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.

“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”

And, gods, all you can do is laugh.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #mywriting

1K notes · View notes

hier--soir · 1 year

Text

bite the bullet

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two idiots finally bite the bullet and admit how they feel. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, age gap [20 years], angst, miscommunication, a meddling Tommy Miller, soft sleepy sex, oral [f], unprotected piv, masturbation [f], rimming, sixty-nine, both of them are assholes for a minute, resolved emotional tension. word count: 9.4k [i got carried away sorry!] series masterlist | masterlist this is part four of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: one, two, three.

Everything was wet.

Your feet squelched against the ground as you moved, little flicks of water splashing up against your shins with every step. Inside waterlogged shoes your socks clung uncomfortably to your skin.

Tommy was crouched underneath your sink, inspecting the u-bend of the pipe there, his lower half damp from the water that covered the floor of your kitchen.

“It’s definitely comin’ from in here,” his muffled voice came, and you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face in exasperation. “I can stop it, but it’s gonna take some time for the place to dry out. I’d say you’d better clear out for a few days, leave a few windows open.”

You’d had a nice day. A lovely day, even. And you’d been looking forward to curling up with a whiskey and a good book before bed. But upon returning home from the greenhouse, you’d been horrified to find the entrance of your home covered in a thin layer of water. Splashing down the hall, you’d discovered that the entire place was wet; a shiny film of liquid coating anything that touched the ground. The wooden floorboards were soaked to the bone with cold water. A fucking flood. Thankfully Tommy was right, and you trusted that the August humidity would naturally dry it out with enough time.

“I can’t just stay here? I didn’t think it was too bad,” you lied. “Could lay down some towels.”

Tommy laughed under the sink. “You know you’ll get sick if you’re sleeping around all this water – towels or no towels.”

“Okay,” you acquiesced, gazing at the floor glumly. “Okay, yeah, I suppose I’ll uh… I’ll get some stuff together.”

“Joel would take you,” his said, and you snapped back to reality, staring at his back while he worked. You could practically hear the grin in his voice. When you didn’t respond, his head reappeared, and he looked at you curiously, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. “You and Joel are pals, right? Pals help each other out.”

Pals, you thought cynically. That’s one word for it.

Two weeks had slowly passed since the Peterson incident, and you’d only seen Tommy’s older brother a handful of times. There was still a tense energy between the two of you, so you’d been keeping your distance a little, allowing things to cool off. Bumping into each other here and there, dinner on the same table at the hall… but no alone time. No real time that would leave you two open to actually talking about it. That didn’t mean it didn’t play on your mind, though. Oh boy did it. In fact, most days you’d catch yourself gazing into a pot plant, thinking about that night. The way he’d taken you, made you tell him the details about Peterson, the way he’d showed you he fucking owned you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the way it had made you feel, and so you avoided it, even though your chest ached with the Joel-sized hole his absence had left in it. At least you weren’t so stubborn that you couldn’t admit to yourself how much you missed him.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Tommy gave a polite shrug, smirking at you. Testing you. A huff escaped your lips, and you broke eye contact, stretching out your shoulder. “Yeah, alright, I’ll ask him,” you agreed begrudgingly, brain whirring trying to come up with excuses. “It’s late though, and he might not want me there.”

“It’s not that late, but sure,” he chuckled knowingly, going back to work on the pipe. “When hell freezes over and Joel says no to you, you let me know.”

An hour later, you were on your best friend’s porch, a bag slung over your arm, hesitating with your knuckle raised in the air. Taking a deep breath and running through what you were going to say, you finally willed yourself to rap your fist twice against the wood.

After a moment, the door swung open to reveal Joel, in a soft wrinkled t-shirt.

An easy, involuntary smile spread across your face upon seeing him. His beard was a little longer than he usually kept it, greys sparkling through the dark hair that framed his mouth so handsomely. He had clearly been settling down for the night, and he looked oh so cosy dressed in his sleep clothes.

“Hey man,” you offered up a sheepish smile.

He looked appropriately surprised to see you, considering you certainly hadn’t been knocking on his door at any point in the past fortnight. One of his eyebrows hitched upward, and he eyed the bag over your shoulder warily. “You skippin’ town or something? Who’d you piss off this time?”

You rolled your eyes and readjusted the duffel. “You gonna let me inside? This thing’s kind of heavy.”

He stepped back into the entryway with a grunt, allowing you to breeze past him and dump the bag onto the ground with a low thud. “Pipe under my sink is busted. Flooded the whole place today – Tommy said I should clear out for a day or two.”

He hummed, narrowed eyes raking over your face. “Oh yeah? So where you gonna go?” he teased, and relief rushed through your veins like warm water as you recognised the smirk threatening to take over his face.

You gave him a small laugh and sighed, holding your arms out in mock surrender. “Come on, Miller,” you said. “Let me crash here – I’ll owe you one.”

“Owe me one, huh?” his eyes shone with mischief. “Well I like the sound of that.” An odd, twisting sensation rippled through your stomach and you sucked your lips into your mouth, nodding slowly.

“Sure,” you retorted. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.” When the words left your lips you both stilled, staring at each other warily.

He hummed, eyes darkening a fraction. “You’re playin’ with fire,” is all he said, before bending down to pick the bag up off the ground and ushering you towards the stairs.

You wondered off ahead of him, and when you reached the landing you veered right, pushing open the door to the spare room. He didn’t follow you in immediately, instead pausing in the doorway with a frown plastered across his face. You hadn’t thought about where you’d be sleeping until the second you reached the top of the stairs, but you knew this was the right decision. Sharing a bed with Joel for a few days? Probably not a good idea. Unless of course, that was going to be how you repaid your debt…Thankfully, or unfortunately, he didn’t push it, dropping the bag gently in the corner of the room.

“Hope Ellie won’t be bothered I’m here for a few days,” you thought aloud. The tone noticeably shifted, and you almost at how Joel seemed to deflate.

He leant an arm against the doorframe and sighed. “She ain’t spendin’ much time in the house these days,” he admitted quietly. “Stays in the bungalow or goes out. I doubt you’ll even see her.”

You hesitated for a second before asking, “Have you two spoken much lately?”

He scratched his chin for a moment. “You know the kid,” he shrugged. “She’s stubborn. M’tryin’ not to push it.”

“It’ll be okay, Joel,” you offered softly. “She’ll come around.”

He assessed you silently, eyes flitting down your body before resting on your face once again, and then he stepped back into the hall. Coughing awkwardly, he raised a hand in a sort of farewell, and said, “Well, uh, you know where everything is. I’m gonna… I was gonna head to bed, I guess.”

“Okay,” you nodded, watching as he turned to head toward his room.

“Hey, Joel, wait,” you called, and he turned, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite place. I miss you, you wanted to say. I miss you, and I’m sorry things are off between us, and I wish we could forget it all and go back to normal, and I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. “Thank you,” you said instead, voice soft. “I really appreciate this.”

The look in his eyes dimmed a little but he offered up a smile. He nodded once, said, “Glad to have you here,” and then closed his bedroom door, and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

After showering and unpacking the few things you brought along, you curled up in the foreign bed. The mattress was soft enough though, and the sheets smelled like the soap Joel used. Your body ached from a long day of work, muscles tense and wired from hauling heavy pots around under the sun. Soon enough, you began to relax enough to drift off to sleep. Only a few hours into the night though, your dreams were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps padding across the landing. A beam of soft yellow light was shone into the room, painting the inside of your eyelids orange. Cracking an eye open, you saw that the door was ajar, and a tall figure was peering in.

“Joel?” you asked groggily, dragging a knuckle over your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s just me,” his deep voice came, but he made no move to enter the room. “Sorry to wake you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Can’t sleep,” he said softly, and your heart clenched.

Pulling the blankets open on the empty side of the bed, you didn’t even think before you said, “Get in.”

Your head fell heavily into the pillows, and sleep tried to pull you back under as you listened to Joel shuffle across the room and slide into the bed beside you. For a moment, he just laid there, a sizeable gap between you on the mattress. And then his warm, firm body was pressing up against your back, his large palm sliding over your hip to rest on your stomach and guide you back against his chest. His scent overwhelmed you, hints of mint and soap and pine tickling your nose, and fuck you had missed him. it was so familiar, and yet your body tingled as if it was the first time he’d ever laid a hand on you. Through the haze that settled over your sleep addled brain, you could feel him, stiff against your thigh.

“Jesus,” you teased drowsily, throwing caution to the wind by rubbing yourself back against him. “Were you having a dream about me or something?”

His nose traced a long down the back of your neck and you fought off a shiver. “Always dream about you.” If you weren’t so tired, that probably would’ve garnered a bigger reaction from you. But as it were, you just brought a hand down to rest over his on your stomach and gripped his fingers softly. “Was thinkin’ bout you being so close, yet still so far. Just down the hall, sleepin’ in my sheets…”

You hummed, warmth flooding your abdomen as he nudged his hips forward, rutting himself against you. His hand drifted out from under yours to slide up underneath your shirt, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below your breast.

“Joel,” you murmured, eyelids heavy.

He hummed eagerly, planting a soft kiss underneath your ear.

“I‘m so tired,” you said regretfully. “It’s been a long day – can hardly keep m’eyes open.”

“Let me help you fall asleep,” is all he said, hand now freely roaming over your chest. His thumb lightly brushed the firm peak of your nipple and your whole body shuddered. “Just relax.”

You were vaguely aware of him pulling the covers off you and moving down the bed, dragging soft kisses down your stomach, before dragging your underwear down your legs. Slumping into the soft bed, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed.

Gentle, reverent kisses were pressed over your hip bones as he settled between your legs, pulling one of your thighs up to rest over his shoulder. His long fingers rubbed over the muscles in your leg, pressing down gently when he found knots, pulling deep sighs of contentment out of you.

“That feels nice,” you whispered into the darkness, and you could’ve sworn you felt him grin against your hip.

When his nose dragged through the dark hair on your mound you twitched slightly, body waking up a little at the sensation. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and you relaxed again, humming lowly as his pressed a kiss against the inner most point of your thigh.

It felt like hours passed with him between your legs. At first you allowed yourself to slip in and out of near sleep, eyes closed as lax puffs of air escaped your mouth while his tongue dipped gently between your folds, giving you soft lazy strokes that warmed your insides. When the first bit of slick began to seep out of you, he groaned gratefully, licking and sucking at your entrance, exulting in your taste.

It felt like you were dreaming. Laying pliant on the bed, you were fully at his mercy, allowing him to move your legs anyway he wanted to give himself better access. You could vaguely hear him murmuring against your skin, but couldn’t make out the words over your own sighs, smiling sleepily as his tongue lapped against you. He worked slowly, and you realised that it was as much for his enjoyment as it was for your own. You knew by that point how much Joel enjoyed going down on you. He had told you as much on multiple occasions; how he’d love to spend hours with his face trapped between your thighs. But he’d never had the chance, or the patience, to really do it.

The sounds of his enjoyment vibrated against your core, echoing through the room around you. The way he fucking moaned into your cunt never failed to drive you crazy, but in that moment you just smiled at the sound, enjoying how peaceful it was, how sweet.

Every now and then you’d lazily blink your eyes open and look down, expecting that at any moment he’d pull away, be over it. But he never did. Every time you looked his eyes were closed, hands gripping your thighs softly, thumbs stroking rhythmically against your skin as content breaths rushed out of his nose, and you’d close your eyes again, the dark image of him scorched into the inside of your eyelids, never to be forgotten.

You started to feel more awake when he finally gave his undivided attention to the achingly sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your core. Moving painfully slow, he glided his firm tongue across your clit, switching it up between swiping back and forth across it and then circling it.

“Oh,” you murmured lowly, voice hoarse from lack of use, but you couldn’t help the soft exclamation as your hips shifted upwards, suddenly searching for more. He didn’t change a thing, pace never increasing or slowing down, and it was perfect.

Your orgasm washed over you in gentle waves. Joel’s tongue swirled slow, gentle circles around your clit and your thighs tensed around his head, fingers reaching down to softly rake through his curls. He hummed happily, tongue lathing against you, enjoying every second of your release. Only pausing once your body stopped twitching and the muscles in your thighs relaxed against him, before kissing way up your stomach, your neck, under he was holding himself over you.

Eyes still closed, your hands drifted to the back of his neck and you pulled him down, his weight crushing against you but you didn’t care. Yours lips met tentatively, and for a moment that was all it was. A soft, gentle kiss. And then you felt him, straining against his briefs, pressed between your thighs, and you pushed your tongue into his mouth. It was messy and slow, tongues tangling together, teeth knocking awkwardly, and you found yourself smiling into his mouth. It should have unnerved you. Should’ve been enough to make you stop, turn your head away and make him fuck you rough so you would forget how intensely intimate the moment felt. But you didn’t.

“You should sleep,” he murmured against your lips, pulling his hips back a little so his erection wasn’t so obvious.

“You should come inside me,” you whispered back, reaching down to grip the band of his underwear and tug them down over his hips. He groaned and kissed you again before reaching down to free himself from the confines of his underwear.

No other words were exchanged as he adjusted himself, and then he was pressing into you, his needy moans spilling out against your neck while your hand snuck underneath his shirt, fingernails gliding down his back as he filled you completely.

“God, I missed you,” he choked out, voice cracking. You whimpered softly. “You’re so wet.”

“Made me feel so good, Joel,” you preened, kissing the side of his head.

“Yeah?” he pulled his face out of your neck to look at you, and you nodded, staring at him through bleary eyes. Joel kissed you again. A long, yearning kiss that made your heart throb, and it didn’t take long until he was falling apart on top of you, shaking against your arms that wrapped around him, held him against your chest. You whispered praises in his ear as he came, hips grinding into yours, pushing himself so deep inside that it had you gasping into his mouth. It was so unlike any other time you’d ever slept with him, and alarm bells rang somewhere far in the deep recess of your brain, but you ignored them. You’d missed each other, and you’d both earned a little softness after the time apart. And so the two of you fell asleep like that; tangled in each other’s arms, with him still inside you.

You woke up to the sun streaming in through the window. The light was harsh, and you cursed yourself for going to sleep without drawing the curtains. You went to sit up in the bed but stopped suddenly, realising how hot you were. With a soft start, you glanced down and understanding jolted through you like a flash of lightning. Joel’s house, you remembered; you were at Joel’s house. But what you hadn’t expected to find was Joel still in the bed, arms coiled around you like wire while he snored quietly in your ear. For as many times the two of you had slept together, neither of you had ever slept over. It was an unspoken rule, and one that had never been difficult to follow. But he’d broken it… or you’d both broken it, maybe. Keeping your body as still as possible, you found yourself breathing deeply, trying to maintain the allusion of still being asleep to avoid rousing him from his slumber. Frustratingly, your heart pounded in your chest, brain zeroing in on every part of your body that touched his.

His soft lips brushed the back of your neck, heavy breaths puffing against your skin. A solid knee was wedged between your legs, one hand lazily gripping your breast. The insides of your thighs were sticky where his come had leaked out of you overnight, and your eyes widened at the sensation.

What surprised you the most wasn’t that you didn’t hate waking up with him beside you. No, what surprised you most was that you did like it. In fact, you found yourself longing to relax into his arms and go back to sleep. But common sense reared its head, and you slowly slipped out of his grasp, moving slowly so as not to wake him while you dragged yourself out of the bed. Staring down at Joel, a pang of fondness rush through your chest. Messy curls were strewn across his forehead, plump lips pushed out into a pout as he breathed deeply, hand resting on the empty bed where you had just laid. His breathing hitched momentarily, and you froze, realising how odd it would be for him to wake up and catch you standing there naked, staring. Trying not to give it another thought, you quietly collected some clothes from your bag, and slipped out of the room to start your day.

Hours passed in the greenhouse. You distracted yourself with cucumber seeds and tomato plants, pushing Joel out of your mind as you worked under the sweltering sun. Underneath the glass roof of the nursery, the heat multiplied, and by the time your shift was over you were covered in sweat, shirt ticking uncomfortably tight to your back. You stopped by at the community hall for dinner and ate alone, your brain a whirlwind of thoughts of Joel, Joel, Joel. You couldn’t shake the feeling that had lingered in your bones all day; the aching desire to have stayed in bed with him, to have relaxed into his arms and cuddled him for the rest of the morning. Your best friend, for fuck’s sake.

“Christ,” you mumbled aloud through a mouthful of food, rolling your eyes at yourself.

It felt like you were going crazy, but the worst part was understanding that this must’ve been how he’d been feeling for weeks already.

I’ve never asked you for anything. Not for anything more than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more.

That’s what he’d said, two weeks ago, the day he found out about Peterson. The words played in your head like a mantra. Words that you had firmly avoided bringing up, ones you’d never pushed for an explanation about. You’d chosen to sweep them under the rug, and yet, as hard as you tried, you couldn’t fucking forget them.

By the time you returned to his house you discovered him sitting on the couch downstairs, engrossed in a book. It was the picture of domesticity. The sweet scent of vanilla floated through the air towards you, and you noted the small candle burning on the table beside him.

Staying in Joel’s home, even for just one night, you’d noticed so much more about it than ever before. There was something interesting to look at everywhere you turned, and sweet-scented candles were just the tip of the iceberg. He left random objects littered across countertops, like little treasures for you to stop and inspect during your travels throughout the house. Wood that he’d whittled into interesting shapes, books that he’d read the first few pages of and then abandoned, countless mugs in odd places with dark brown coffee stains at the bottom of them. It was homey, and warm, and subconsciously you found yourself enjoying the insight into his most private space – into the things he did when he was truly alone.

Joel hadn’t noticed you come in, so you seized the opportunity to watch him from the doorway for a moment. He was wearing his comfortable clothes again, and a thin set of reading glasses were perched on the scarred bridge of his nose. A quick flash of heat tore through your stomach. You’d never seen him wear those before, and it had you stumped. The glasses, paired with the salt and pepper through his beard and hair, reminded you of his age. Twenty years older than you, and still the most handsome man you knew.

You finally broke the silence, announcing yourself by asking, “What’re you reading?”

Joel’s head snapped up, and he stared at you over the top of his glasses. Shutting the book quickly, he straightened up on the couch. “Uh, Brave New World,” he lied, flipping the book so you couldn’t see the cover.

You hummed, unconvinced, and bit down on your bottom lip to hide a smirk. Tommy had told you once before that Joel was a sucker for gothic romance novels, but you’d never truly believed him until that moment. From where you stood, you recognised the tattered copy of Wuthering Heights that had gone missing from your bedroom a few months prior.

A flush rose in his cheeks and he coughed awkwardly, picking up a mug that you hadn’t noticed on the floor by his feet. It was cute; a little beige ceramic thing, with an owl painted on it.

“You see the patrol roster for tomorrow?” he spoke into the mug, swiftly changing the subject.

“I did,” you murmured. What you didn’t acknowledge, was that you’d also seen Peterson and Davis’ names on the list for the morning patrol. “Should be nice. We haven’t gone to the ski lodge in a while.”

A vivid memory of you two fucking up there raced through your mind, and a low heat simmered across your face as you remembered Jesse and Dina almost catching you once. Shaking the thought from your mind, you looked at him again to find him gripping the mug tightly, lips pursed in thought.

“We haven’t,” he agreed lowly, and the corner of his mouth twitched a little. “You haven’t been gettin’ called outside the gates much at all these days.”

This is it, you thought hungrily. This is the moment he tells you how he can’t wait to fuck you there tomorrow while you’re supposed to be patrolling. This is the moment he tells you he can’t even wait until tomorrow, and he drags you upstairs to his bed. Warmth flooded through your thighs, and you held your breath, staring at him.

But Joel didn’t say that. Instead, you watched dejectedly from the doorway as he rose slowly from the couch and tucked the tattered book underneath his arm. “Well,” he coughed, turning towards the stairs. “I’m gonna get some shut eye. It’ll be a warm day, and I’d better get some rest before we head out.”

You watched him move towards the stairs, heart beating painfully fast against your ribs.

“I’m actually not tired,” you blurted out. Joel paused. His left hand gripped the banister, and you could’ve sworn it might break in half based on the way his knuckles went white.

“Well, I am,” he said over his shoulder, before padding up towards his room , not even turning to give you a second look.

You tossed and turned for an hour, staring at the ceiling wide awake. The linen sheets stuck to your sweaty skin, making you feel claustrophobic enough to kick them to the end of the bed. You waited for him. Every creak and groan the old house made had your ears twitching, eyes glancing eagerly toward the door, expecting it to creak open and reveal him sneaking in through the darkness.

And when it became clear that he wasn’t coming, you pushed away the uncomfortable feeling it brought, and snaked a hand past the band of your underwear. Your fingers raked over the coarse hair there, teasing yourself for a moment, before you slid a finger through your damp folds. Collecting your slick, you dragged it up to coat your throbbing nerves and sighed in relief.

Your middle finger dragged quick circles over your clit, and all you could picture was Joel above you, fucking you while wearing those stupid fucking glasses. Cursing him in your mind, you pressed a finger past your entrance, and huffed in frustration at how it paled in comparison to the thickness of his digits. You imagined the way the glasses would fall to the tip of his nose, almost falling off his face while he fucked you so hard you saw stars. In an attempt to stifle the soft moans trying to escape your mouth, you bit down on your bottom lip, fingers moving quicker against yourself. And you came like that; hand down your underwear, rubbing yourself frantically, thinking about nothing but him.

It was hot, and the skin of your thighs chafed painfully as you and Joel ambled silently through the stables, getting your horses from their stalls to saddle up. He hadn’t said much to you all morning and you were trying not to read into it, but the fraught silence had you on edge.

You winced upon spotting Davis and Peterson standing by the gate, chatting while they loaded their rifles. Lloyd caught your eye and smiled, offering a short nod in your direction. You returned the nod before looking back down and fiddling with Japan’s saddle, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed.

“Gimme a sec,” he muttered. “Gotta go pick Jesse’s brain.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and continued tugging on the straps of the saddle, until your skin prickled, a presence looming over your shoulder.

“Should we see if we can swap partners?” that voice sounded, and you turned to see Lloyd smirking suggestively at you. “Send Davis and Miller out East together, and you and me could head to the ski lodge?”

Your palms dampened a little and your eyes darted around the stables. There was no denying that Lloyd Peterson was a handsome guy. He was young, somewhere in his early-twenties. He had bright green eyes that shone in contrast against the dark brown hue of his skin. Straight, bright white teeth almost blinded you whenever he smiled, and you’d have to be a robot not to be effected by it. Past his shoulder, you spotted Joel hovering at the mouth of the stables, gaze trained on the pair of you. Caught, he turned quickly, muttering under his breath as he stalked off toward Jesse.

You looked back to Lloyd and shook your head once. “I don’t think so,” you said. “Gonna stick with Miller today.”

Not giving him much chance to respond, you gripped Japan’s reigns and led her out of the building. Joel and Jesse were talking in hushed tones by the gate, and you walked in their direction, pausing a few metres away when you noticed how tense the conversation seemed to be. Jesse was frowning at the older man, shaking his head slowly.

“Hey,” Lloyd’s voice came again, and you turned with a sigh, raising a hand to block out the sun as you stared up at him. “Can we talk?”

“Talk,” you rushed out, glancing to the side just as Joel appeared beside you, holding out a rifle. You shouldered it quickly, noticing the way Lloyd seemed to balk at the older man’s presence. “Peterson,” you urged, eager to get it over with. “Get on with it.”

He spared another awkward glance at Joel before speaking in a lowered voice. “Did I do something wrong?” You cringed, knowing Joel could hear every word, and yet he didn’t move a muscle. It seemed he wasn’t going anywhere, eyes trained on the man, uninterested in offering the pair of you any privacy to finish your conversation. “I thought we had a good time, y’know? But you’ve been avoiding me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you replied plainly, even as the thought of him telling Davis about fucking you flashed through your mind. Joel was deadly quiet, eyes flicking between the pair of you like he was watching a game of tennis. You sighed deeply, wishing this wasn’t happening in front of him. In a moment of almost… shame, you realised that you didn’t want Joel to get the wrong idea. Didn’t want him to think that anything else had happened, or would ever happen, between you and Peterson.

“Then why won’t yo-“

“Why don’t you back off kid,” Joel interrupted suddenly, and your shoulders tensed, skin prickling at his harsh tone. “She’s not interested.”

Lloyd flinched at the words, and he looked to you, waiting for you to say something, to refute Joel’s claim. But you were distracted by the sudden warmth in your abdomen, and when you didn’t react quick enough he scoffed quietly, spinning on his heel and walking back where Davis was waiting with their horses. When you looked at Joel, he had a pleased smirk on his face, and you felt your stomach fall somewhat, guilt spreading through you at the way Lloyd rode out of the settlement without looking back.

The ride to the ski lodge was long. For the most part of the three hour trek, you rode alongside each other in silence, until finally you couldn’t help yourself, thoughts tumbling from your mouth.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said quietly.

Joel looked at you out of the corner of his eye, and didn’t say a word.

“He was already embarrassed,” you added. His top lip curled up into a mean smirk.

“Peterson’s an ass. He should be embarrassed.”

A huff escaped your mouth and then he was turning, looking at you fully now with his eyebrows pinched together.

“What, your little boyfriend can’t handle some friendly teasin’?” he sneered, the change in mood so sudden you almost fell off your horse. And all the warmth you’d felt, every soft yearning part inside of you toward him, you pushed it to the side and focused on the confusion instead, allowing it to morph into pure anger. You were seeing red; furious with him for never being able to just see reason.

“Oh, fuck off Joel,” you scowled. “I’m not doing this with you today.” You kicked your heel against Japan’s hide and rode ahead, not listening for a reaction.

The higher the pair of you rode up the mountain, the hotter it got. By the time the horses were tied up by a trough of water and the pair of you were walking into the lodge, sweat was rolling down your skin in rivulets. A headache brewed in your temples, and frustration weighed heavily on your chest as Joel huffed and puffed around the room. Even being able to hear his breathing across the room while he scrawled in the logbook was enough to set your skin on edge. Eager to get some space from the tense atmosphere, you gruffly told him that you were taking first patrol, before shouldering your rifle and stalking back outside into the heat.

“You idiot,” you scowled to yourself, storming through the trees. Shame burned in your chest like a wildfire as you thought back to the night before. Touching yourself in his house, making yourself come thinking about him, wondering if he’d fuck you at the ski lodge. God, you felt like a teenager with a hopeless crush.

Your feet planted in the dirt, the word ringing in your head like an alarm. Eyes wide, you gazed into the trees.

“Nope,” you mumbled, starting to walk again slowly. “No, no, no.”

“Y’know they say talkin’ to yourself is the first sign of madness.”

Fuck.

“What are you doing?” you turned quickly, staring him down from through the thick trees. “I told you I’d take first patrol.”

“Yeah, I heard that. Saw you storm off too,” Joel rolled his eyes, propping his hands against his hips. ��What’s your problem?”

“Jesus,” you grinned sarcastically. “I should be the one asking that question.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he frowned, stepping forward. The tan skin of his neck glistened in the sunlight, and you hated yourself for wanting to know how it tasted. Thankfully, hatred and anger were easier emotions to tap into than whatever the fuck you had been feeling about him for the past few weeks.

“It means,” you ground out. “That you’re a nasty old bastard.” His face darkened, lips twisted into an angry snarl, but you continued. “Peterson’s not my fucking boyfriend, so you can give it a rest okay? I had it handled.”

“Sure,” he laughed bitterly. “Don’t act like you didn’t love it, havin’ him hit on you right in front of me. You get off on the attention, from him and from me. I bet you loved havin’ me step in, tell him to fuck off.”

Your face was on fire as you glared at him, acutely aware of how the tension had spiked between the pair of you. Entire body tensed, you squared your shoulders and stared him down. “Are you fucking serious, Joel?” you asked lowly, eyebrows raising.

“Deadly,” he grit his teeth. “Don’t forget that I know you, baby, better than anyone.”

“No, you fucking don’t,” you spat desperately, turning around and walking quickly in the opposite direction.

“Oh yeah,” he called, the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you making your stomach drop. “Walk away, sunshine. Let’s just not talk about it, right? I know that’s your favourite thing to do. Walk away, and act like nothing happened.”

“Oh my god!” you shouted. “Grow up, you fucking assho-“ But as you spoke, your foot landed awkwardly on a patch of moss. You heard a low popping sound before you shrieked as your legs flew out from underneath you. You hit the ground awkwardly, ass slamming into the ground, and dirt sprayed into the air around you.

“Shit,” you hissed, moving to get up but cringing as a sharp pain shot through your ankle. The flesh around your shin was already swelling, and you cursed audibly, reaching down to rest your hand against it only to wince at the dull pain spreading through your entire foot.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him say, and then his warm hands were on your shoulders, and he was crouching beside you. Breathing heavily, you stared as your ankle swelled to the size of a golf ball. “Come on, let’s get you back,” Joel said, gripping your elbow to lift you up.

“Get off,” you snapped, shoving him back. He stumbled a little and then stood, glaring down at you. “I can do it myself.”

“Clearly you fuckin’ can’t.”

Eager to prove a point, you dug your fingers into the dirt and pushed yourself up, and then began limping back towards the ski lodge.

You moved slowly with Joel trailing just a few steps behind, close enough that you could hear his breathing, and the way he muttered inaudibly whenever you stumbled. When you almost tripped trying to step over a tree branch, he snapped, appearing at your side in an instant and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Joel,” you warned lowly, but he interrupted.

“Would you stop bein’ such a brat,” he snarled. “You might’ve broken your fuckin’ ankle, just let me help you god damnit.”

You grumbled under your breath but didn’t fight him again, silently grateful to lean on him and get some weight off the injury. His chest rose and fell quickly as he led you back to the lodge, and you could practically feel the anxiety radiating from him.

“It’s not broken,” you muttered. “Probably just a sprain.”

“Good,” he grunted, helping you up the steps and into the building. “Idiot.”

“Jeez, thanks, Joel,” you said bitterly. “You’re a real pal.”

His hand gripped your waist tighter, before lowering you onto the couch. “Any time, bud.”

Joel stormed into the kitchen and returned moments later with a bottle of water, tossing it at you before slamming down onto the sofa beside you. “Jesse and Dina will be here in a few hours, just keep it elevated until then.”

“You got it doc,” you rolled your eyes, eagerly gulping down the water even though it had gotten uncomfortably warm in his pack.

The pair of you sat in silence for a while, your ankle throbbing where it rested atop the coffee table.

“I don’t fuckin’ get you,” Joel finally breathed, and you looked to him with a raised eyebrow and a snarky comment on your lips, only to find him with his head tilted back against the couch, eyes closed.

“What?” you asked dumbly.

“You heard me,” he said. “I don’t fuckin’ get you. You go two weeks avoidin’ me, I hardly see you, then you’re knocking on my door, askin’ to stay? And then today you’re cursin’ my goddamn name. Throw me a fuckin’ bone, darlin’, cause I got no idea where I stand with you.”

Your lips parted, all the breath in your lungs rushing out of you in one fell swoop. His eyebrows were furrowed, a deep frown settled across his face, and his arms crossed against his chest. He didn’t look angry, you realised. He looked confused; he looked hurt. Your stomach rolled.

“I could say the same,” you started pathetically, and then his eyes flashed open and he was staring back at you with those dark brown eyes that fucking killed you.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” he said blankly, eyes darting around your face.

Your lips felt numb as you slowly asked, “What?”

“You left,” he said quietly. “You fuckin’ left me, and I just don’t know if I can keep pretendin’ anymore. Pretend that this doesn’t… mean anything to me. Pretend that I’m fine with… this. Don’t know if I can keep doing it if you’re just gonna leave. My heart can’t take it.”

It felt like time stood still for a moment. Outside one of the open windows, you could hear the trees rustling in the hot summer wind. Your ankle ached. Joel kept staring at you.

“You know that’s the best I’ve slept in years?” he asked softly, licking his lips. “Slept so fuckin’ sound with you next to me. No nightmares – hell, I didn’t even dream. And then I woke up, and you were gone, and I almost wished it had never happened. So that I wouldn’t have to know how good it felt to have you, wouldn’t have to try and sleep without you every night after, knowing exactly what I was missing.”

“Joel,” you tried again but he shook his head, raising a hand in the air to stop you.

“Just let me,” he took a deep breath, his shoulders shaking. “Let me say this. Just once, and then I’ll let it be, okay? I won’t bring it up again, and we can go back to the way things were befo-“

“Stop,” you croaked out, tears swimming in your eyes. “Shut up for a second. I,” you paused, eyes darting over his face, searching for understanding. “I didn’t want to leave, okay? But I’m scared Joel. Jesus, I’m so scared of this.”

“Scared?”

“Of this feeling that won’t go away. Of wanting to stay. I’ve been trying to push it down, to ignore it, and it doesn’t fucking work, no matter what I do. I’m so scared that I’ve fucked up our friendship, that I’m going to lose yo-“

“Never,” he shook his head firmly, hand reaching out to squeeze your knee. “Listen, you’re not losin’ me, okay? That's never gonna happen.”

“But Joel,” you sighed shakily. “If we push things further, there’s no going back. Don’t you understand?”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he admitted quietly. “I think it’s been too late for me for a while now.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, and when you spoke again you could hear the fear in your voice. “I don’t know if I can be what you want.”

Joel chuckled humourlessly and sighed, squeezing your thigh again.

“It’s you,” he said. “That’s what I want. You don’t have to do anythin’, don’t have to change or be anythin’ else. I just want you.” His eyes shone in earnest, and you couldn’t help but surge forward, planting your lips against his. He returned the kiss with fervour, parting your lips with his tongue and gripping the sides of your face in a searing grip.

He tasted like salt and mint and your head was swimming, consumed by him. Your fingertips were numb as they raced over his body, desperate to touch him everywhere all at once. You fumbled with the buttons on his shirt until his hands joined yours, carefully undoing them all until you could pry it off him.

Pulling back from the kiss, you allowed your eyes to rake over his exposed chest, taking in the sight of his tanned, hairy chest, littered with scars and freckles and you felt the urge to kiss every single one of them. So you did. You pushed him back into the couch and straddled him, ignoring the way your ankle cried out at the movement, and attached your lips to his collarbone, licking and sucking your way across his torso. Showing reverence to every imperfection on his skin. Your tongue swiped past one of his nipples and he jolted beneath you, hands dragging under the fabric of your shirt to rest on your back. You could feel him growing hard beneath you and you smiled against his skin before rolling your hips down against his. He was murmuring your name in between sighs, scratching at your skin, revelling in the kisses you sponged across his chest.

Your eyes trailed upwards to meet his. “Want your cock in my mouth,” you whispered, and his face crumpled in on itself, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Fuck,” he sighed, gripping your hands tightly before pushing you off him. He stood up and in one quick movement he knocked the coffee table over, before he was undoing his belt and stripping his pants off. He helped you off the couch slowly, before lowering you down onto the carpet, crouching down to rest beside you. His large hands roamed across your chest, gripping the hem of your shirt and tugging it upward to expose your breasts, your aching nipples peaked and begging to be touched.

“Fuck,” he repeated, harsher this time, leaning over you to plant his mouth on your chest. His teeth scraped across your sensitive skin and you whined, gripping the nape of his neck as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked gently.

“Joel,” you mewled, tugging his face back up to yours for a brief kiss. “I mean it,” you breathed into his mouth. “Need you in my mouth so bad. M’gonna make you feel so good, I swear.” Within a second, he flipped the two of you over so his back was against the ground and you were straddling his hips. You grinned triumphantly, shifting your hips back as you kissed down his chest, moving your body down until you were straddling his shins, and pulling his briefs down with you.

His cock rested proudly against his stomach, thick and swollen and begging to be touched. The head was a deep shade of red, small beads of precum weeping out of his tip as he stared at you, patiently waiting for you to make a move. You didn’t waste a second before leaning down and gliding your tongue softly over the tip, swiping up his salt and humming at the taste. A sharp inhale whistled past his teeth, and you watched his eyes clamp shut at the sensation, hand forming a fist at his side. Gently, you took his hand and raised it to your head, encouraging him to touch you. He obliged, fisting your hair in his hand, grip tightening as you parted your lips around him and let him sink into your warm mouth. A long, drawn-out moan left his mouth and your cunt pulsed in response, the warmth between your thighs suddenly impossible to ignore.

“S-so good for me,” he groaned, pulling your hair tighter. “Love your mouth, I love it. That’s it, baby, open up a little more for me, show me how much you can take.”

The sharp sting on your scalp made you moan around him, and he cursed, undoubtedly feeling the vibration. The weight of him against your tongue was intoxicating, and you bobbed your head up and down slowly, his cock gliding in and out of your mouth easily, slick with your spit. You’d missed the taste of him, missed the sensation of him filling you up to the point where it was hard to breathe, and yet you still wanted more. You pressed forward, eager to feel him fill you up, but when his cock brushed the back of your throat he was gripping your hair and pulling you off him.

“Turn around,” he ordered, and you looked up in confusion. His bottom lip was bitten raw, and his eyes were a darker brown than normal as he gazed at you. When you didn’t move, he was pulling you up and turning your body so your back was to him, and only then did you realise what he meant. He pulled your shorts down your legs, dragging your underwear with them, and then he carefully tugged one of your knees up and over his shoulder, so you were straddling his chest. Slowly, you shuffled back on your knees until your wet heat was hovering over his face, and you leaned down to let your chest rest against his.

“Baby,” Joel sighed. “So fuckin’ perfect. Such a pretty pussy. Can never get enough of you.”

You clenched around nothing, and heard him groan, signalling that he’d seen it. Without warning, his tongue dipped between your folds and you gasped, pushing your hips back to give him a better angle, before taking him back into your mouth. And it was nothing like it had been two nights before. He wasn’t gentle, or slow, or relaxed. No, Joel was relentless.

His tongue moved rhythmically against you, and you tried desperately to focus, harsh breaths leaving your nose as you moved your mouth lazily along his length. You pulled back and lathed your tongue around the head of him, tasting the salt that dripped out of him. He grunted into you and you smiled, stroking him slowly as you sucked the tip, grinding your tongue into the sensitive skin just underneath his head. Joel’s hips bucked up off the ground, and your hand left his length, gripping his waist firmly to hold him down while you took him into your mouth again. You pushed yourself as far as you could, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed as he brushed the back of your throat. His beard scratched against your inner thighs deliciously, and you decided you loved it a little longer. And then suddenly, his tongue moved away from your clit and he was licking broad strokes along the entirety of your core, and then over your entrance, and then… his tongue flicked all the way back and into new territory.

You flinched forward, his cock surging deeper into your throat and you gagged around him as you explored the new feeling. You moaned, eyes screwing shut at the foreign sensation, and you felt your legs begin to shake against his sides. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you down harder against his face, ruthlessly dragging his tongue back and forth from your clit to your hole, until you were tearing your mouth away him and sitting up, grinding yourself down desperately against his face. Arching your back, you writhed on top of him, crying out hoarsely. Every strong flick of his tongue felt like an electric shock jolting through your body, and he continued until you were panting and twitching on top of him, and then you let go. The orgasm tore through you, a shout falling from your lips as you rode his face, gripping his thighs for leverage as your entire body shuddered with the intensity. He didn’t let up; licking and sucking and kissing, his moans vibrating through your core until you were whimpering and dragging yourself off him, clit aching from the pressure.

You were still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm when Joel pressed your back down onto the carpet, nudged your knees apart so he could fit between them, and pushed himself inside you. A sweet, low burn blazed in your abdomen with every inch he gave to you. The wet sound of you sucking him in might have embarrassed you, but the look of awe on his face as he stared down at where you were connected just made you feel powerful.

His thrusts were strong, the sweaty skin of your thighs smacking against each other noisily filling the air, mixing with your breathless moans of his name.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he was saying, but you weren’t listening, eyes rolling back in your head as he played with your nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cried out at a particularly hard thrust, stomach tensing as the head of his cock grinded against your g-spot.

“There?” he panted, and you nodded frantically, mouth hanging open as he pressed against it over and over again, groaning at the way you tensed around him.

Urgent sounds left your lips as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, and you watched with wide eyes as his hand trailed down your chest to rest over your mound, his thumb slipping between your folds to press gently against your throbbing clit. Your back arched up from the ground and you choked out a moan as he rubbed you in slow circles, a stark contrast to the way he drilled into you with his cock.

“Come,” Joel encouraged and you whimpered, eyes screwing shut as the overwhelming feeling soared through you. His free hand landed over your throat and your eyes flew open, looking up at him as he applied soft pressure to the sides of your neck. “C’mon baby, let me have it. I can feel you, you’re so fuckin’ close, give it to me, please, I want it.”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you gasped against his hold, bucking up into him as he fucked you roughly. You twitched and writhed on the ground, his thumb never stopping its movements against your clit as you cried out his name.

And somewhere amidst it all, his movements slowed. His hands turned soft on your body, head dropping down to drag gentle wet kisses along the skin of your neck.

“So good,” he praised lowly. “So beautiful.” Your heart soared in your chest, and you smiled drowsily, body tingling as he continued to give you gentle thrusts.

“Kiss me,” you said shyly, and Joel smiled, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You sighed into his mouth, gliding the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip as you draped your heavy arms around his neck, pinning his torso down against yours. “Fuck me like this,” you told him. “Want to feel you close to me.”

He nodded, starting up a slow rhythm, only ever pulling out halfway before pressing back into you. You were both slick with sweat, and you wiped his forehead gently before raking your fingers through his thick messy curls. His face was red from exertion, and you thumbed his cheekbones gently. A heavy sigh fell from your mouth. Still recovering from your previous orgasm, you knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to build you up for another one.

“Give me one more,” he begged, sponging feather light kisses over your eyelids, your cheeks, down your neck. “Want to feel you come with me, baby, please. Just one more, I know you can.”

You gripped his hair and kissed him deeply, your tongues tangling together as he moved his hips slowly, cock dragging in and out of you at a devastating pace. Joel pulled back to watch you, eyes gazing down with adoration as he moved above you. That familiar liquid heat began to burn in your stomach, curling through every fibre of your being, and you could see in his face that he was close. And there was something else there too. Something you couldn’t place; simmering in his eyes, lingering on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said. His hips began to stutter against yours, a choked gasp of your name falling from his lips as he quickened his pace until you were coming together, holding each other tightly on the ground of the ski lodge. He moaned heavily against your mouth, and you throbbed around him as his spend coated your walls, warm and slick, squeezing out around his cock as he moved.

As a low, warm silence filled the room, you worked to control your breathing, body shaking against his as he pulled out of you. You whimpered at the empty feeling, missing the weight of him already. But he didn’t go far.

Joel laid down on the carpet beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his chest. Your fingers trailed over the skin of his stomach, smiling at the goosebumps that developed in your wake. Mine.

His hand caught yours and he lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently. You leaned forward to rest your face in the rook of his neck, and he sighed in contentment, trailing his fingers down your back.

“Hey Joel?” you murmured against his skin.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I called you a nasty old bastard.”

Joel laughed and tightened his grip around your back, tugging you closer to his chest. “I forgive you.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #fwb joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #my writing #bite the bullet #cat's outta the bag #don't cry over spilt milk #whole new can of worms

2K notes · View notes

leighsartworks216 · 8 months

Note

Hello! I have ideas for Astarion and a druid Tav. Atv can shapeshift, and Astarion likes to sit in/enjoy the sun. Once they're close enough, Tav asks if they can use him as a basking perch. So sometimes Astarion will have a dog or cat in his lap, sometimes a snake around his shoulders, or even once a bird nesting in his hair (Tav was scouting and got too tired to shift back).

For some angst Tav could be injured while in animal form or stuck in one by magic and so Astarion takes them back to camp and keeps Tav close until they recover and can turn back.

It is almost 1:30am haha I need to go to bed

I also wrote this in 3rd person pov for no reason other than I felt it worked a little better

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 693

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Soft purrs fill the morning air. The sun is warm, and where Astarion sits on his rug is the first spot her rays touch every morning. And every morning, he cherishes the time he had left within it.

One hand runs idly along soft fur, while the other holds open a book. Every now and then, his pets slow down as the story becomes interesting, but he makes up for it with a gentle scratch behind the ears.

This was also part of his morning routine. Several weeks ago, the intrepid leader of their group began joining him on his rug in the morning. They asked first, of course, and they never bothered him. It was rather nice, actually. They’d read their own book or prepare herbs or even braid together a flower crown.

A week later, they had taken to shifting into an animal form and stretching out within the beams. They usually fell asleep like that. And once again, he didn’t mind. Their feline purrs were never grating or overwhelming, and even as a dog they had the decency not to drool on his stuff. The occasional snake or bird would warm themselves on a rock or perch nearby with their beak tucked under their wing. It was always a little fun to guess which animal they’d turn into each day.

And then they asked if they could lay in his lap. He’d scrunched his face up at the idea, asking why his lap was suddenly better than the rug. They’d just claimed it was hard to get comfortable lately, but they didn’t push to ask again. That day, they’d curled up in Karlach’s lap. They couldn’t sleep, because the tiefling was so busy gushing over how soft and adorable they were, and Astarion couldn’t focus on his embroidery because he’d become so used to their presence - Karlach’s noise level aside. So the next day he sighed and told them they could lay in his lap.

Now, it was so embedded into his mornings, he felt wrong without an animal on or near him. Cat or dog in his lap, snake or bird on his shoulders - he just needed something. He truly never realized just how nice petting an animal could be - even a druid disguised as one. They always thanked him afterward, though he found he wanted to thank them, too.

The sun’s rays slowly shifted. Warm, concentrated beams diffusing as it continued to rise into the mid-morning. The cat in his lap heaved a long sigh and rose to their paws. He watched as they stepped out from his crossed legs and along the rug, stretching with each step until they sat down nearby. The cat transformed back into a humanoid druid that yawned and stretched out their arms.

“Thanks,” they murmured.

Astarion chuckled. “Still tired? You’re even worse than Gale.”

They made a sound that almost sounded like a chuckle, if it was stretched and morphed by a sleepy sigh. “What can I say? Your lap is extremely comfortable.”

“I’ll add it to my list of remarkable qualities.” His head tilted as he studied them. Their shoulders drooped, their back was hunched, they rubbed their eyes, and stifled another yawn. “You look fit to collapse.”

They breathed out a long sigh. Their eyes were heavy with bags under them, staring blankly across the camp. So much to do, so little time, but Astarion was right. They wouldn’t be able to hold a half-decent conversation, let alone fight.

Astarion pat his lap, an open invitation. “I’m sure they would understand. Another day won’t kill us - hopefully.”

“How reassuring,” they muttered, but they were already shrinking back down once more into a cat. They lumbered over and curled back up, purring incessantly as they gave in to their exhaustion.

He stroked down their back again, lightly scratching along their spine. Their coat shone in the light. He wondered when the hell he’d let them get so damn close.

He sighed, allowing the mystery to fade to the back of his mind, and lifted his book once more, finding where he left off and reading on. Yeah, one day wouldn’t hurt.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars

449 notes · View notes

burntheedges · 17 days

Text

Maintenance Request Epilogue

Joel Miller x f!reader 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 986

a/n: well, y'all. We made it. 😭 I hope you enjoy this peek into our favorite couple's lives. Thank you all so much for reading.

I have loved seeing all of your reactions and answering your asks about the fic this week (please keep sending more for the celebration if you'd like!). There will be more asks going up today and I'm linking them on the masterlist for the fic as I post them.

I'm getting emotional again. Thank you all. You're the best and I mean that so sincerely. 🧡 and thank you, as always, to @katareyoudrilling 🧡 I think we'll be back to visit these two (I've already got plans for something about Joel finding the poem from Ch 23 thanks to an ask from @toomanytookas) but this is it for the main story. (Also, today is my birthday, so thank you for celebrating with me.)

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, cuddling, pet names (darlin', honey, baby), allusions to smut

Epilogue

Saturday, May 10 Summer Break

It was a beautiful late spring day, with a light breeze rustling through Joel’s back garden. You stood on the back porch and turned your face to the sun, smiling at the view.

You were tired – you’d lifted so many boxes already that day, you couldn’t bring yourself to even consider opening any of them right now. As you tried and failed to will yourself to at least make a plan, you felt Joel step up behind you. He slid his arms around your waist and tucked his face into your neck.

“I like the way you look on this porch, darlin’. The way your stuff looks in the house. Our house.” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “Looks right.”

You grinned and leaned into him. “Well, that’s good, considering it’s way too late to change your mind now. All my books are here.” He huffed a laugh into your neck. “Once we mix them in with yours there’s no turning back. Gave up my keys and everything.” He pressed his smile into your neck in response.

You’d agreed to move in after the semester ended. Tommy, Beth, and Maria had helped, though they’d just left a few minutes ago – Tommy and Maria to return the moving truck, and Beth to pick up dinner. Tess had threatened Joel that he better have a housewarming party for you or else since she couldn’t make it.

You’d just gotten tired of lugging boxes around and stepped outside to see what Sarah, Ellie and Riley were up to. A sudden shout from the far end of the backyard drew your attention and you lifted up on your toes to try to see over Joel’s many plants.

He did the same, arms still wrapped around you, and asked, “any idea what those three hooligans are doing back there?”

You laughed. “Well, judging by the stuff they dragged back there with them, I have a pretty good idea.”

“Oh?” He nuzzled into your neck again, clearly not too concerned with their antics.

You nodded. “Mentos. And Diet Coke.”

He laughed, loud this time. “You’re kidding. They just discovered that old trick?”

“Seems so.”

“Feels like a different student tries it every term, so I guess I’m not surprised.” He sighed. “At least if they do it back there we don’t really have to clean it up, much.”

You elbowed him a little. “My thoughts exactly.” You were both quiet for a moment and you felt Joel relax into position behind you, leaning against the wall of the house and drawing you backwards to lean on him.

“You think Elllie’s got a plan for her room, yet?” He sounded concerned, but you knew it was because he was anxious to help her however he could.

“Yeah, she wants to freehand it. Some kind of mural.”

“Sounds like it’ll probably be pretty impressive. We can get her some paints, maybe tomorrow.”

You smiled at his offer. “Poor Tommy, kicked out of his room.”

Joel laughed at your words, but you felt him shake his head. “He’s busy with Maria, he don’t mind. Got better things to worry about these days.” You hummed, agreeing. “You know, darlin’, we got about half an hour before any of them get back.” He punctuated his statement with a quick nip to your neck and a thrust of his hips.

You snorted. “Joel Miller, are you propositioning me? In front of the kids?” You waved your arm towards the back of the yard.

He huffed a laugh into your neck. “They can’t hear us and I’ve been dying to get you alone all day. Honey, you live here now. You aren’t going to leave later because you’re already home. It’s driving me crazy just thinkin’ about it.”

You let your head fall back on his shoulder and grinned. “Half an hour, huh? Not a lot of time.”

He started pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck and you squirmed against him. “Enough time to make you come on my mouth, baby.”

You started to turn in his arms, already giving in, when there was a sudden, whooshing eruption and shrieks coming from the back of the yard. You laughed. “Sounds like they figured it out.”

“Hmm, let’s worry about that later.” He grinned at you as he started to walk backwards into the house, taking your hands in his to lead you. “We got things to do and the clock is ticking.”

Both of you started giggling as you dashed up the stairs. You almost fell into his (your) room and caught yourself on the dresser. He grinned at you as he closed the door before grabbing you by the waist to guide you onto the bed. “Pants off, darlin’. Let me show you how happy I am to have you home.”

Home. You smiled and did as he asked.

He was right, after all. You were home.

…

...Then love comes, like a sudden flight of birds from earth to heaven after rain. Your kiss, recalled, unstrings, like pearls, this chain of words. Huge skies connect us, joining here to there. Desire and passion on the thinking air. -- From “Rapture” by Carol Ann Duffy

It was like getting a love letter from a tree Eyes closed forever to find you— There is a life which if I could have it I would have chosen for myself from the beginning -- “The Poem” by Franz Wright

...

a/n: thank you all. 🧡

prev |

tag list: @harriedandharassed @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin

@myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123

@joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites

@fluffygoffpanda @paleidiot @mithicakurogo @theclairvoyage @lizzie-cakes

@islacharlotte @syd-djarin @copperhalfcent @vabeachazn @spacedoutdaydreamer

@littlevenicebitch69 @secretelephanttattoo @pigeonmama @vickie5446

@glizzymcguirex @verymiraclemiracle @friskispunk

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #x reader #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM

173 notes · View notes

aquagirl1978 · 1 month

Note

💐 Harri fluff pretty 🙏 please with strawberry milk on top

(Have you considered that one can probably taste the strawberry milk after kissing harri? *sighs as I stare wistfully into the distance*)

Love <3 V

Thank you @vioisgoinginsane - I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you enjoy it!

To Catch a Thief

A/N: The first fic in my Naughty or Nice event and my second entry for An Invitation to Crown hosted by @judejazza Pairing: Harrison Gray x Reader Prompt: play fighting Word Count: 730 Tags: fluff

“I have a problem and I was hoping you could help me,” Harrison said, plopping into the seat next to you on the couch.

“Good morning to you, too,” you replied, not looking up from the book you were reading.

“Morning,” he muttered as he ran his hair through his hair. He leaned a bit closer to you, dropping his voice. “I’m trying to catch a thief and I could use your help.”

“Oh?” You put your book to the side and stared into his mint green eyes, suddenly intrigued.

“Yeah,” he continued, “I went to the kitchen just now, looking forward to drinking my strawberry milk. And could you believe it, but there was none left. Someone here drank the last glass, knowing that that was my milk.”

“The nerve of them!” You gasped dramatically at his predicament. “Whatever shall we do?”

“I have a list of suspects.” You raised a brow, curious to know who made the list. “Will loves strawberries, so he would be a prime suspect –”

“Except he’s not here now,” you chimed in.

“Exactly. You’re very observant. Alfons isn’t back yet either, so he’s off the list.”

“What about Jude?”

“While he’s rude enough to commit such a crime, he’s not a fan of milk. I think we can safely cross him off the list.”

“Victor?”

“Nah, he’s more of a tea and scones guy for breakfast. Elbert probably hasn’t left his room since last night, admiring all his stuff.” Harrison sighed, truly perplexed. “That leaves Roger, Liam and Ellis.”

“Ellis does like sweets.”

“Another excellent observation. He’s possibly our prime subject right now.”

“I’m glad we were able to sort that out.” You smiled smugly at Harrison, pleased you were able to help him.

“Yeah, well, there’s another problem. Ellis isn’t here either. Some kind of early morning emergency that Victor assigned to him.”

“So then it has to be Liam or Roger.”

“That would seem to be, but there is one other possibility we haven’t explored.” Your eyes widened when he said your name.

“Was it you?” he asked softly. “I won’t be mad if it was.”

“No,” you replied, perhaps a bit too quickly. “It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do such a thing to you. You’re my boyfriend. I love and adore you and know just how much you like your strawberry milk.” You flashed him the sweetest smile as you rested your hand on his knee.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t drink my milk,” he replied with an even sweeter smile.

“It wasn’t me,” you repeated.

“Of course, it wasn’t. I was silly to even question you.” He cupped your cheek and caressed your skin softly with his thumb. “I think you deserve a reward for helping me.”

He leaned closer, his lips barely brushing yours. “Is this a suitable reward?” he whispered. Your breath hitched as he covered your mouth with his in a kiss. Running his fingers through your hair, he held you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue probing your lips. With a soft sigh, your lips parted, inviting his tongue to sweep your mouth.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, his hand cradling your head. His eyes met yours and he smiled.

“I knew it was you the whole time,” he admitted quietly.

“What? How?”

“I had my suspicions, but you should know better than to lie to a fox.” Your face fell; he saw through your earlier lie. “That and…” He brought his mouth to yours and nipped your lip. “I could taste the strawberry milk.”

“That was evil.” You grabbed a nearby pillow and hit him on the shoulder with it. Gently.

“It's what you deserve for drinking my milk,” he said, laughing. Grabbing a pillow of his own, he swatted you back. Not so gently.

Peals of laughter filled the room as you took turns hitting each other with the pillows. That is, until Harrison grabbed your pillow and tossed it to the side, leaving you defenseless. He pressed his body against yours, his lips dangerously close to yours. Your eyes drifted shut as your lips moved closer to his, eager for his kiss.

His hand ran down your ribs, his fingers brushing against your most ticklish spot. Your eyes flew open.

“You wouldn’t,” you hissed.

“Well, I am a villain,” he said with a wicked laugh.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @themiscarnival @coral-relevium @cyberk1ee @kookie-my-little-sunshine @pathogenic @ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer @nightghoul381 @judejazza @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @ikesenwritings @starlitmanor-network

#naughty or nice #invitation2crowncc #ikemen series #ikemen villains #ikevil #harrison gray #ikevil harrison #ikemen fanfic #ikevil fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic #starlitmanor-network

168 notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 3 months

Text

Playing with Fire: The Photobooth

Fandom: Marvel (Dad's Best Friend AU)

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad's coworker and best friend, Bucky, decides to tag along with you on your errands after your boyfriend bailed on you last minute.

A/N: Bucky is in his late 40s, reader in her mid to late 20s. inspo came from these recent pics of seb.

The Book Store

Further into downtown, you stop at another store that sold different types of knick knacks and gifts.

Bucky follows you out of your car and towards the store, "Yelena's birthday is coming up so I figured I can check this place out for some stuff for her."

"I'm following you, sugar," Bucky says as he enters the store and is immediately met with a plethora of color and trinkets.

You zero in on a shelf that displays little crystal figurines. You smile at the ones shaped like animals, some shaped like Pokemon and Sanrio characters.

Yelena always had a thing for elephants so you immediately pick up an elephant carving made from amethyst.

"Those are cute," Bucky says as he looks over your shoulder.

You turn to him with a grin, "Right?! Lena, would love this," you hold up the elephant with a wide smile.

"She likes elephants?"

You nod, "She likes how smart and cute they are."

Bucky watches as you head to the pay counter and ask the cashier if you could place the crystal carving there for now. When the cashier nods, you thank them and head back to Bucky.

"I just wanted to make sure I don't accidentally drop it while I look around."

Bucky continues to follow you around the store until his eyes land on a photobooth in the corner. His eyes brighten, "Oh, hey! Check this out!" He takes your hand and leads you to the booth, "Haven't used one of these since high school."

You scrunch your face up as you think, "I don't think I've actually used one of these before."

Bucky looks at you in surprise, "Really?" You shrug and he opens the curtain to it, "Well let's do one then."

You snort, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, c'mon. Better late than never, right?" He takes your hand again and pulls you in. He sits on the bench and you do your best to squeeze in beside him.

"This isn't gonna work out, here," he has you stand and then he pulls you onto his leg, "Better?"

You gulp, "Y-Yeah."

You try not to pay attention to the hand that rests on your hip as he pays and picks out the amount of pictures and strips. He leans back and points at the screen, "Okay. It's gonna count down for us before every picture. There'll be four pictures all together so be ready."

"Right. Got it. What should we do first?"

"Uuuuhhh happy?"

You giggle and you both smile when the screen counts down to one. You two work quick, "Sad?"

The both of you do your best to look sad. You frown while Bucky straight up looks like he's wailing. When the camera snaps, you lose it. You find Bucky's face absolutely hilarious and he's watching you laugh at him. You're too caught up in the moment to realize that the countdown started and took your picture.

"Oh crap. Uuuuhhh, silly face?" he asks and you nod.

You blow out your cheeks and cross your eyes. He pulls out his ears and sticks his tongue out.

He pulls back the curtain again and has you step out first. You realize how warm you are now so you start to fan yourself. He walks out with a grin, "That was fun."

He leans against the booth while waiting for the pictures to print, "I can't believe you never used one of these before."

"Just never caught my interest, I guess. But I definitely see the appeal now. I'll have to come back with Yelena to use it."

Bucky cocks a brow, "Not your boyfriend?"

Your smile weakens at the mention of your boyfriend, "Oh, um, John doesn't like taking pictures together. He thinks they're dumb."

Bucky's brows raise, "Thinks they're dumb?"

You shrug, "He thinks taking pictures together and posting them is like showing off. So he said he doesn't need to show off our relationship because we both know we're in one. I don't really get it, but I got tired of arguing with him on wanting to have keepsakes for memories," you look down in shame. The only person who knows how John is like is Yelena. When around your dad, John puts up a front. Like he's the perfect guy to you. He's not bad, but sometimes he's not good either.

"And this is the same boyfriend who ditched you today?" Bucky asks with a look on his face you can't even decipher. Is he mad? Annoyed?

"He didn't necessarily ditch me, Bucky. He had a deadline to meet for his capstone project."

"Right and I'm sure he already knew of this deadline and proceeded to procrastinate anyway."

You cross your arms over your chest defensively, "What's your issue with him? You don't even know him, Bucky."

"You're right, I don't, but from just the little information you've given me today, I don't think he's the right guy for you."

"Don't think you have a say in the guys I get involved with, Bucky," you say with a scoff and turn around to walk away but he grabs you by the elbow, "Wait, wait."

You turn back to him and raise a brow, arms crossed over your chest. He sighs, "I'm sorry. I just know you deserve better."

"Thanks but I'll be the judge of that, Bucky. I'm an adult. I'm responsible for my own decisions."

"Yeah. I know, but still. You deserve to be with someone who isn't afraid to show you off, ya know? Makes time with you and does everything to make you happy."

You nod, "I know. Thanks, Bucky."

"Sure," he lets you go to continue to shop for Yelena.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dbf!bucky #dbf!bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader

183 notes · View notes

nataliesfirefly · 4 months

Text

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 4

a/n: hey everyone! i know it's been a while but the next part is finally here! not sure how many parts i want this to be bc i dont want to fill up the tag, still waiting to make an ao3 account haha- but anyways im getting a taglist started just of people who have shown interest in this series, if i put you on it and you don't want to be on it just let me know. and ofc if u want to be on it lmk! i also made a playlist if anyone wants to check that out :))

playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/60Kll9HCoQru14J18bT21C

series masterlist

word count: 3.9k

warnings: language, suggestive stuff?, alcohol, smoking, emetophobia

Things are extremely awkward with Felix. He’s too nice to kick you out of Saltburn, yet he’s too prideful to apologize, so you two are stuck dancing around each other with small talk and short interactions.

Things with Farleigh, on the other hand, are surprisingly good. You never would have expected how close you two became in the past few days. In fact, you can’t remember the last time he insulted you, at least not in a playful way. You must have bonded over your shared dislike for Felix at the moment.

But for some reason, you worry if you get too close, he might push you away.

Tonight was dinner with all of Sir James’s friends, and as the Cattons tend to call them, the Henry’s. The actual dinner was full of awkward conversations with people much older than you about the future of your life and what you were going to do after graduating college. You actually had no idea what your plan was or what you wanted to do with your life. You used to push all the questions away and blamed it on the fact that graduation was pretty far away. It only recently dawned on you that you would be graduating in about two years.

After dinner, you sit in the dimly lit living room with Farleigh on the couch as everyone else participates in karaoke. You and Farleigh snicker at some of the guests’ performances, whispering things to each other as if you are judges of some competition.

Eventually, Farleigh sighs and stands to his feet. “I’m going to go smoke,” He tells you, putting his hands in his pockets. He turns and looks at you expectantly. You take it as his way of asking you to come with him, so you stand up and snatch the bottle of wine you were drinking off the coffee table.

You follow him up the stairs, down the long, dark hall and eventually into his bedroom. He shuts the door behind you and draws out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one. “At least open the window,” You walk over to the window and open it to let the smoke out.

“Oh, right. Cause you hate the smell so much.” He rolls his eyes at you as he exhales some smoke. “Weren’t you the one that asked me for one of these the other day?” He points the cigarette at you and you glance down shamefully.

“Yeah. I wasn’t at my best, okay?” You shake your head and slump down to the floor, leaning against the wall and stretching your legs out.

“Okay, sure, miss goody two shoes.” He chuckles and sits down next to you. You take a swig from the wine bottle and sigh, leaning your head back.

“So, Felix…” Farleigh trails off and looks over to you. You continue staring up at the ceiling. “Can we not talk about Felix right now,” You reply, closing your eyes. “We need to,” He says, nudging you.

“What is there to talk about?” You ask, turning to meet Farleigh’s gaze. He presses the cigarette to his lips and inhales. “You said it yourself, that he only hangs out with me out of pity.”

As he breathes out, the smoke passes over your face but you don’t care. “And what’s your problem with him? It seems like you’ve been waiting for someone to turn on him so you could join in,” You continue, and his eyes tell you that you’ve just read him like a book.

He quickly recovers and remains expressionless. “You’re projecting,” Farleigh responds. “Then why have you been so nice to me?” You ask.

The room goes silent and you are stuck in a moment where time doesn’t pass, it’s just you and Farleigh. His usual cold and dark gaze is replaced by something softer, warmer. Something in the air shifts and you can feel some kind of tension rising.

But then he looks away, breaking eye contact. “Because Felix is just stupid sometimes,” He finally replies, nodding toward the bottle of wine you are holding. You hand it to him and your fingers brush against his.

He takes a drink. “I don’t think he ever had bad intentions. He’s just an idiot,” You consider this. Maybe he’s just extremely out of touch with reality like the rest of the Cattons.

There’s a pause as you think of something to change the subject to.

“So… How about that Sadie girl?” You ask, turning to him with a grin. He gives the wine back to you and you take a quick swig.

Elspeth is, for some reason, attempting to set Farleigh up with a daughter of one of James’s friends. Her name is Sadie, and she is very pretentious and fake, from what you can tell. You hadn’t spoken to her, but you watched from afar as she and Farleigh engaged in a conversation.

“She’s alright,” He shrugs and stands up to press the cigarette out on his ashtray. He sits back down next to you and sighs.

“She was like, hardcore flirting with you,” You chuckle and observe his exasperated expression. “Oh, I know.” He smirks smugly and you roll your eyes.

“That’s weird, usually you hook up with someone the moment they show interest in you,” You smile at the way he frowns slightly. “That’s not true,” He furrows his eyebrows and glances at you. “Okayyy,” You say sarcastically.

A while later, you are still upstairs with Farleigh, but you are now feeling the effects of all the alcohol you’ve consumed. You both had gone downstairs to steal more booze, and you ended up drinking almost all of it. Your whole body feels tingly and warm, and your brain is fuzzy.

You run a hand through your tousled hair and sigh, turning to check if Farleigh is as wasted as you. He seems slightly better off than you, but his dark eyes are half lidded and glossy.

“Do you ever miss Sasha?” He glances at you, seeming surprised at your random question. Sasha is Farleigh’s ex from Oxford, who he had endured a tumultuous and rollercoaster ride of a relationship with. You had met her once or twice, she seemed kind, but slightly possessive.

“Sasha?” Farleigh repeats her name and takes a moment to process it. It seems like memories are returning to him and replaying in his head.

“Sometimes. But not really. She was crazy,” He raised his eyebrows and stared straight ahead. “You guys broke up and got back together, like, ten times,” You giggle foolishly and he turns to look at you, slightly offended by your amusement.

“It was too hard to keep up with,” You sigh after your laughter subsides.

“I didn’t know you were keeping up,” You make eye contact once again with Farleigh, and this time his gaze is more intense. You can’t tell if it’s one of his usual sarcastic comments or if there was an underlying meaning behind his tone. Your face burns red with the realization that you had been studying his relationship so closely. But, really, everyone in your friend group knew about Sasha and Farleigh’s dumpsterfire of a romance. Break up, random hook ups, they said they love each other, then they argued again.

“It’s just.. what friends do,” You reply, your speech slurred. “Friends keep up with each other’s relationships.” You shrug and wave your hand as if to dismiss the seriousness of it.

“You consider me a friend?” Farleigh chuckles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, what if I do?” Your voice comes out softer than you intended.

There’s another long moment of silence and prolonged eye contact between you two. The tension is so thick, you can feel it in the air and your heart pounds. It’s almost like you are waiting for who will make the next move. Your brain is all muddled and you can’t seem to think clearly.

Your eyes flicker down to his plush lips and you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or not, but your instinct is to kiss him. You grab him by the face, a hand on either cheek, and pull him in, smashing your lips together sloppily. You pull away, shocked at yourself, dropping your hands into your lap as your lips hover over his.

You expect him to be disgusted and stand up and walk away, but there’s a slight pause before he is grabbing you and pulling you back in, kissing you almost aggressively. Like he’s been starved, like there’s not enough of you.

You squeak with surprise before you melt into him, softening as one of his hands travels down to your neck and the other settles on your waist. You both have to gasp for air in between sloppy kisses, but you don’t mind. Your heart races and your hands travel up into his hair, running your hands through his unruly dark curls. You find that you’ve been waiting so long to do that, to feel his hair in your hands.

He bites your lower lip and your eyebrows pinch together. “Sorry,” He mumbles, although his voice disappears into your mouth. You feel yourself losing balance and beginning to fall back onto the floor.

Before you know it, he’s on top of you, refusing to stop kissing you. It’s messy and you know you’re both drunk, but damn does it feel good. The tension feels like it’s being lifted off of you, and it’s relieving. You don’t know how long it will last but hell, you’re enjoying it. Both of his hands have moved to your hips and his fingers are pressing into you.

You feel his lips move from yours, moving down from your jaw to your neck. He’s kissing and sucking on your skin so passionately that you know you will have bruises tomorrow. You moan quietly and you hear him groan in response, his low voice vibrating against your neck.

You attempt to catch your breath as you suddenly feel something in your stomach, something unpleasant. Saliva begins to build in your mouth and it’s like you have an internal clock telling you how much time you have left before you absolutely hurl.

“Far-Farleigh,” You place your hands on his shoulders. You whimper and slightly push up on him. He glances up from your neck, staring up at you in confusion. You can’t deny that you enjoy viewing him from this angle, but you have other concerns at the moment.

“Gonna throw up,” You manage to get out before he’s rolling off of you, allowing you to get up. You clamber to your feet and scramble into the connecting bathroom, barely making it to your knees in front of the toilet before you throw up.

You grip both sides of the toilet for support as you practically spill your guts, coughing loudly. You would have liked some help or something from Farleigh, but it seems like he has just left you here to deal with it yourself.

You groan and wipe your mouth, sitting up and staring straight ahead in some sort of daze. You eventually come to your senses and stand up, flushing the toilet. You feel dizzy so you grab onto the counter of the sink to not lose balance, catching your reflection in the mirror.

Your hair is very messy, and your mascara is slightly smudged around your eyes. Your cheeks are warm and rosy, but in an unflattering way. You look like a wreck.

When you walk back into his room, he’s gone. You sigh in frustration and press a hand to your aching and pounding forehead. Somehow, you stumble back to your room and flop onto your bed. You managed to avoid the small number of guests left in the house, along with Venetia and Felix. You just want to get some sleep after the shitshow that just happened. And you know you’ll be paying for it in the morning.

2 YEARS EARLIER

You, Felix, and some of your other friends were gathered at the pub on a Friday night. There was chatter and the smell of cigarette smoke all around you. Felix returned from the bar and handed you a tall glass of beer.

You were focused on Farleigh and the girl who sat on his lap. Her hands were all over him, and he seemed totally enamored with her. She had a short skirt on and her wrists were covered in bracelets. She was pretty, you had to admit.

“Who’s that?” You asked, glancing up at Felix and pointing to the two. “Oh, that’s Sasha.” He replied. “She’s obsessed with Farleigh. And from what I can tell,” Felix sat down, pulling his chair closer to yours, “He’s liking it.”

You chuckled and took a sip of your beer. “Good for him,” You said, shrugging. “Bet they’ve already fucked,” Felix remarked and you snapped your head towards him. “Ew, Felix. That’s none of your business.” You made a disgusted expression.

“What? Everybody shags around here, it’s no surprise,” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Except you,” He added, grinning and nudging you. You rolled your eyes and looked back towards Sasha and Farleigh.

You didn’t want to imagine them… doing that. But for some reason, your mind kept trying to paint a picture of it. You shook your head to clear your thoughts.

You didn’t know why, but for some reason, you felt jealousy bubbling up inside of you. Why was it so easy for her to get what she wanted? You had liked a few men at Oxford, but you didn’t really even want a boyfriend or a commitment like that.

But as you watched Farleigh and Sasha’s hands intertwine, you felt envious.

“Hey, Felix, who was that guy you were going to introduce me to?” You asked, tapping your fingers against the table. “What? Oh, Joshua? I thought you said you didn’t want to meet him,” He replied. Felix was trying to set you up with one of his friends who seemed like a player. At this point, you didn’t care. It was like you were trying to prove that you could actually get a guy. Prove to who, though?

“I know. I changed my mind,” You said decidedly. “Well, he’s actually here tonight. Would you like me to go grab him?” Felix stood up and pointed towards the other side of the pub. You nodded. “Sure,”

You waited patiently and took a few swigs of beer for confidence. A minute later, Felix returned with a man who was a few inches shorter than him, with fluffy blonde hair and hazel eyes. Freckles were dusted across his nose and his skin was nicely tanned due to the warmer weather of spring. He looked sweet and innocent, but the rumors you had heard about him told you otherwise.

“Hello,” He greeted you, holding out his hand. You stood up to shake his hand, smiling as you introduced yourself. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joshua.” He grinned brightly and Felix seemed amused by the interaction.

“Hi, Joshua.” You tried to make a good first impression, although you weren’t good at this stuff. But it seemed like he was already interested, looking you up and down.

You both sat back down and began small talk about classes and life and friends. Felix left you two alone, but you’re not sure where he went. It was good, talking to someone new, but still a bit uncomfortable since you were so introverted. The conversation flowed nicely between the both of you.

You couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching you. You glanced up, seeing Farleigh’s cold gaze drilling into yours, flicking back and forth between you and Joshua. It was like he was waiting to see who would break eye contact first, and of course, it was you. Your gaze faltered down to the table and then back up to Joshua.

“You alright, love?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh. You nodded and your face turned a shade of pink with embarrassment. “Sorry. Just thinking,”

“Hey, what do you say when we go back to my dorm? To just chill, relax, you know.” He tilted his head and you could already tell what he was implying. “Uh- Sure, yeah. Let’s go,” You smiled and stood up, grabbing your bag and walking past him toward the doors. He placed a hand on your lower back as you stepped by him.

You woke up the next morning unsure of where you were before memories of the night before came back to you. You were in Joshua’s bed, tangled up in the sheets, with your clothes off and scattered on the floor.

Your eyes widened as you realized you had lost your virginity to Joshua Brown. You sat up and scratched your head, not sure what to do next.

“Oh my God…” You whispered, looking down at Joshua, who was sleeping on his stomach, his face pressed against the pillow. It didn’t look like he was waking up anytime soon.

You stood up and winced as you realized you were a bit sore. You tried to be as quiet as possible as you picked your clothes up off the floor, hurriedly putting them back on.

Joshua stirred in his sleep and groaned, rolling over. You grimaced as you took your bag off of his desk chair, tip toeing to the door and opening it slowly.

You sighed with relief once you had closed his door behind you and you were safely out in the hallway. You know you probably looked like a wreck, but your main goal at the moment was to get back to your own dorm going unnoticed.

You heard your name being called, fairly close to you. You froze before turning to identify where it came from, and you swear your heart dropped to your ass. Farleigh was standing in the doorway of his room, which was conveniently right next door to Joshua’s, smirking at your frazzled state.

“You should work on keeping it down. I couldn’t sleep last night because I kept hearing you and Joshua.” He chuckled and you could feel your face heating up.

“Sorry,” You muttered, casting your glance downwards to the floor.

“You finally got some after all,” He teased. “Can you shut up?” You groaned, facepalming and shaking your head. “Oh, I will if you can figure out how to,” He raised his eyebrows. “Was it really that good?” He questioned.

You considered the question. You didn’t really know if it was or not, you were just trying to be loud because you thought guys liked that. Were you satisfied by the end? No. But Joshua certainly was.

He seemed to notice your puzzled expression and he nodded. “Oh. So the rumors are true about him.” You tilted your head with curiosity. “What rumors?” You asked.

“Oh, you poor thing.” He cooed sarcastically. You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms. “Well, you’d better get back to your place so you can study,” Farleigh mocked. “Make up for that time you lost last night, huh?”

“Can you just not tell anyone? Please?” You knew it was useless asking him not to tell. He had the biggest mouth in the whole class. He just snickered at your pleading and stepped back into his room and shut his door.

That night you hung out with Joshua in his dorm once more, but you told him you didn’t want to have sex again. He respected your decision, so you were just drinking some alcohol with him and making out occasionally.

“Yeah, I don’t really know what I’m going to do with an English degree. I just had to pick something.” He shrugged. You were talking about your futures after Oxford and what you were both majoring in.

“Hm. Well, there’s a lot you could do,” You replied, trying to reassure him, although you weren’t too sure yourself. “You could be-” Your sentence is cut short by a loud moan coming from the room next to you.

“Ah, shit. It’s Farleigh and Sasha again,” Joshua shook his head like it was a regular occurence. “They’re usually at it for a while,” He informed you. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Some odd, depraved part of you wanted to stay and listen. “No, that’s alright.” You shrugged. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”

The walls seemed paper thin. You swear you could hear every little noise, like the bed springs squeaking and the wanton sounds that came from Sasha. But then you heard something different. It was Farleigh, whimpering and moaning in a way that you couldn’t even believe what you were hearing. You didn’t know men could make sounds other than grunting during sex, let alone sounds like that.

“Oh fuck,” You heard him breathe heavily and Sasha was practically screaming at this point.

“Damn. They’re really getting into it,” You whistled and raised your eyebrows. Joshua nodded. “I wish I was as good as people say he is,” Joshua looked down. “What?” You asked as you tried to ignore the continuous noises. He was really telling you to be quieter earlier today?

“Farleigh. People say he’s really good in bed,” Joshua explained. You were surprised that he was okay with discussing this with you. “Oh.” You chuckled nervously. You didn’t expect that, but for some reason it made sense. “Was I bad?” Joshua asked suddenly.

You froze at his question and wondered if you should tell him the truth. “I mean… I don’t really… know the difference, you know? It was my first time, remember?” You told him. He nodded but you could tell he seemed hurt and defeated.

“Right,” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and you leaned back in your chair. You could say this was one of the most embarrassing moments of your life, having to listen to Farleigh fuck some girl while having an awkward conversation with the man you had a one night stand with.

The next day around noon, you were walking to a café near campus when you saw Farleigh walking ahead of you on the sidewalk of the cobblestone streets.

An idea popped into your head and you smiled mischievously, jogging to catch up with him. When you appeared at his side, he glanced down and made a face.

“Are you following me?” He asked, glaring at you as you fell into step next to him. “No. I just had a complaint,” You tried to hide the smile threatening your face. “What’s that?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Me and Joshua were trying to have a nice conversation last night,” You started, and his playful expression immediately dropped. “Maybe try to keep it down next time, right?” You grinned and he stopped in his tracks.

“You were there last night?” He seemed annoyed and a little bit shocked. “Yeah.” You nodded and stopped next to him. “I mean, I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts,” You laughed to yourself and he narrowed his dark eyes at you.

“And it wasn’t even Sasha as much as it was you–” “Keep your mouth shut,” He ordered, and you knew you got a rise out of him. “Practice what you preach, that’s all I’m saying,” You waved and skipped along the sidewalk, leaving him standing there in shock.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld

#farleigh start #farleigh saltburn #farleigh x you #farleigh x reader #saltburn #farleigh start x reader

187 notes · View notes

jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (bonus track)

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre/warnings: established relationship, college au, need i remind you that most bonus tracks are flashbacks, fluff, smut; swearing, oral s*x (f. receiving, mentions of m. receiving), f*ngering, d*rty talk, public s*x, unprotected s*x (don't do it ffs), cre*mpie, i guess that's it, jesus christ why do i have to tag it like this god damn you tumblr

word count: 1.3k

series masterpost / main playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

“Do you have a kink for librarians?” you pant, giving his hair a sharp tug as he stuffs you full of his fingers, while his mouth alternates between kissing your clit and sucking it into his mouth. It’s like he’s trying to make out with you down there, for fuck’s sake.

“No,” you feel him smirk as he says this, his big doe eyes flitting up to your face to take in your blissfully fucked out expression, “just for you.” Then he closes his eyes again - as if that helps savor your taste better - and fully moans against your core like he’s the one on the receiving end of pleasure.

You arch against the bookshelf when Jungkook curls his fingers, bumping your g-spot with practiced precision as he tongues your clit. The sounds of him fingering you open, so goddamn wet, bounce off the walls and the books. You can’t believe you’re doing this in the fucking library! After hours, but still.

Oh, the both of you would be in so much trouble if anybody found out…

Then again, you’d be lying if you said the possibility of being caught didn’t make you just a tiny bit excited.

“Jungkook… nghhh, I’m gonna-”

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess?”

You nod fervently, bucking your hips against his face to chase your high. “Yes, yes, right ther–!”

You’re prepared for the wave to crash over you, to overwhelm your every sense, like lightning when it strikes.

But it never happens.

Jungkook pulls you back just as you’re about to tip over the edge, removing his fingers from you before he stands up with a cocky look on his face. The skirt you’re wearing falls down to cover your lower half again. Your mouth hangs open in shock, in frustration, and for a second there you burn with unfiltered hatred for him. You clench painfully around nothing, but before you can hiss at him, he’s crashing his lips against yours.

An involuntary moan slips from you when you taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook works on undoing his belt as he kisses you, pulling down his boxers and trousers just enough to set his hard cock free. He breaks from the kiss to sneak his hands under your skirt, grabbing the back of your thighs and urging you to jump.

“Up,” he commands, and you obey. Your legs wrap around his waist, holding him closer until you feel the swollen head of his cock between your sodden folds. You whimper at the bare contact and so does he. “Put me in, baby,” he says huskily, squeezing your thighs while he leans forward to nibble on your earlobe.

You reach for his cock, giving it a few slow pumps and smearing his precum all over the length, before you guide it to your entrance. You let his tip tease you for a minute even though you were about to bite his head off only minutes ago from not letting you come, and your breath stutters when it kisses your clit deliciously.

“Oh god,” you pant when his cock finally makes its way into you. “Oh fuck, Jungkook…” He buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit when he bottoms out, making the stretch feel infinitely better.

Your arms settle around his neck as he starts fucking you against the shelf, his hips rolling into you slowly at first, and then he’s picking up the pace, pounding you with purpose.

Forgive me, you think in apology to the books surrounding you, witnessing this unholy act unfold before them.

But it feels so good. It feels too good that you can’t help crying out his name with every thrust, his cock grazing your g-spot and pushing you toward the bliss that he previously denied you.

“Good girl,” he grunts, and the sound of his voice dropping low has you oozing with lust even more. The added slick allows him to fuck you better, his entire length pistoning into you, making the room echo with skin-slapping and your wet squelches. “Letting me do this to you in the fucking library. You like it, don’t you? You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“Shut up,” you manage to say while trying not to lose your goddamn mind over how wonderfully long and thick he feels inside of you. “S-stop running your mouth and make me come.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but chuckles anyway. “Bossy,” he says, pecking your cheek sweetly like he isn’t about to make you cream all over him.

His hips momentarily pause so that he could adjust the grip he has on your thighs. He holds your body, firm against the shelf, and what happens next is anything but sweet.

When he moves again, he manages to be even faster than before somehow. His cock hits every single spot inside of you that paints stars behind your eyes, and the moon, and Saturn, and every glimmering indicator of light that adorns the galaxy.

His thrusts, deliberately hard, rattle the shelf for a second and it makes your heart fucking leap into your throat. You yelp, and hold him tighter, but he never falters. Jungkook fucks you like he’s got something to prove, and it’s not until the giant wooden structure you’re propped against stops protesting that you can calm down.

“I’m gonna come… Jungk–” you cry, your desperate cunt clenching around him. You actually do cry, but you don’t realize it until the single tear has already rolled down to your jaw and detaches itself from your skin.

“Yeah?” he asks, hopeful. “Look at me.”

You force your eyes open despite how difficult it is. You always try, for him.

Warmth spreads over your chest when you find him gazing at you with a tenderness that would make your knees wobble if you were standing. This time, you burn with unfiltered devotion.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he says. “I love you.”

You grip his shoulders but let yourself fall over the edge. You come hard around him as his name slips from your lips in a drawn-out moan. You feel your release soaking his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging the bliss for you until he has to chase his own high too.

You pull him in for a kiss, mumbling against his mouth, “Love you. I love you. I love you.”

And then he’s coming, whining against your lips as his hips stutter. Hot ropes of his cum splatter across your walls endlessly, making you tingle all over.

He pulls out and sets you down on unsteady legs once he’s empty, and you immediately cringe from the feeling of your combined release dripping out of you. Jungkook goes to grab some tissues and your panties from the floor. With gentle hands, he helps clean up the both of you, and finishes you off with a soft kiss.

You look at each other when he pulls away, his hand lingering on your waist as you adjust your panties into place. Then you both burst out in a fit of giggles.

“I can’t believe we just did that!” you exclaim, pressing your body to his once again to hide your flushed face in the crook of his neck. “You seduced me,” you accuse with affection.

“You wore that skirt!” he says in defense, and you feel the rumble of laughter that reverberates from his chest. “Besides, don’t act like you weren’t getting all sloppy on me just a couple weeks ago, right by the philosophy shelves.”

You rear your head back to glare at him, punching him in the chest even as you say, “Fuck off.” But it’s light, and completely endeared. It’s uttered with a fondness that he knows how to translate.

Fuck off means I love you.

Shut up means I love you.

I hate you means I love you.

Jungkook shrugs, then squeezes you into his side. A bunny smile peaks through, giving way to shallow dimples that dig into his cheeks cutely. “Let’s go home,” he says. “I got you that tiramisu you like.”

519 notes · View notes

ioniansunsets · 7 months

Note

I love all your Heartsteel hcs they are making me melt <3

Can I request a scenario of Aphelios going to non musician!readers house after a long day and then just spoil them with cuddles and hugs until they go to sleep? Hes my fave and I’m just so normal about him and the rest of Heartsteel thank you <<3

✖ Heartsteel!Aphelios Chilling with Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.5k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: SORRY FOR TAKING A WHILE!!!! Wrote this with Worlds in mind! Also imagining their little collab with Knotted + The Rocklove apparel drop❤️ Our boys have been busy.

I...also got really carried away, I just like soft warm domestic established relationships..........

Also doing this with the headcanon that Aphelios can still very softly whisper (like how he talks to Alune). He can sign, he can type fast with just one hand but! His favorite thing is to let you, his precious partner, hear him when it really matters.

----

It was a long month for Aphelios. He wasn't, miserable, to speak but he was slowly reaching his (already low) mental limit. The stress of performing in front of millions truly catching up to him.

Heartsteel was finally going to perform on stage so it has been practice after practice. Photoshoots, interviews, Instagram lives, meetups for collabs at stores, showcases for new merch, feedback for social media content, approving this and that. It has been non stop work and Aphelios was far beyond burnt out.

He was exhausted and he hasn't seen you in days. As such, when Alune finally squeezed some time out of everyone's schedule to give them a day off (after a grueling final full dressed practice run right before the actual performance day) the first thing he did was grab a ride to your place. It was a quick goodbye wave to the other members, thanking the staff with a curt bow before he ran to grab his stuff, change and fucking book it. Dropping you a message on Discord to let you know he was finally done and coming over as he calls for a ride.

It was late already too, the sun had set and all Aphelios could really do what think about you. Actually, all he could think about when he wasn't working on band stuff was you.

His hands and legs jittery, itching to finally see you, feel you, hear you, hold you. Oh gods, to have you in his arms again. He sucks in a breath at the thought.

How he so craves you to salve his faltering, exhausted soul. He sighs, turning up the music in his headphones as he leans against the window of the passenger's side. Fingers tapping to the beat as he tries to calm down, a smile on his face already at the thought of seeing you again.

He wasn't used to this. Being away from you this long and being so busy as to not even be able to chat with you often. Before Heartsteel picked up traction the two of you were practically inseparable, he would spend time writing songs in your room as you worked. Or Aphelios would just invite you over to his place to chill as he made music. The simple joys of being able to work from home as an artist. But alas, fame comes with responsibilities, and as much as he loves finally making it in the scene, it was tough going through the withdrawal of not being by your side.

His heart races in anticipation as the car stops at an all too familiar road. Grabbing his things, he pays and leaves, slamming the door to the car shut.

Aphelios was practically flying up the steps to your apartment, out the cab he half walked, half ran to your door. Standing by the gate as he calls you to let you know he's here.

When you finally open the door, you're met with the most excited smile, his eyes almost close with how wide he is smiling.

Your usually calm and cool boyfriend dropping everything he was holding to throw himself into your arms the second the door opened. The softest of his whispers as he presses his cheek against yours.

" I've missed you, so much."

You could tell, the way his body sinks into yours. The way his arms grasp you tighter than he ever has. The way he lightly nuzzles you. So uncharacteristic but so understandable at the same time. You laugh a little, telling him how much you missed him too as you held him close.

" Let's stop standing by the door. Come in Phel."

His shoulders rise and fall in a silent chuckle as he picks up his things form the floor to step into your house.

It was the usual domestic slice of life happenings that he was so used to doing. The absolute heartwarming comfort of just going on autopilot. Putting his things in the same spot he always has in your room. Going to get a bath, grabbing a change of clothes from his own shelf by your bed. The way you already helped make him dinner while he was bathing because you just know he hasn't eaten all day. It was perfect, it was like how things always was. A reminder that even though so much was going on, he was still yours as much as you were his.

" I'm excited for you. But you sure you can stay the night? You'll have to wake up earlier than if you stayed with the band you know?"

[ Being by your side is the only way I'll be able to calm down before tomorrow. It's worth the hour of sleep I'll miss not being in the venue hotel.]

The two of you update each other on your lives as he ate. You telling him about the things that happened through the month, watching small videos he took behind the scenes of the shoots, making fun of the other members together as you sit by his side by the dining table. You telling him about your time with your friends, telling him how much you missed him, how happy you were to be with him again too. And oh, the way his leg would reach out to yours, his foot lightly hooking you by the ankle to feel you close as his hands were busy with eating and typing to you about his day. It was nice. It was right. It was the cute little things that you were so used to with Aphelios. Your own hand reaching back out to hold his side. Aphelios' eyes closing as he takes a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of you holding him close after day after day of the noisy meals with the band or the desperately lonely silence of eating in a changing room between sets. It was a nice change of pace to finally be here with you.

Time ticks by and soon enough it was getting really late. Aphelios insisting to help you with the dishes since you cooked, so you did him a service by just hugging him lovingly from behind, giving the back of his neck soft kisses as he smiles with his head tilted to the side so you can rest your head on his shoulder.

" Sleep?"

You ask him softly as he puts the dishes away and dries his hands. Aphelios nods, it was getting late and he had to wake up at 5am to go through even more preparations tomorrow, but that's tomorrow Aphelios' problems. He shoves the thoughts to the back of his mind as he focuses back on you and your beautiful face.

Slowly the two of you walk up to your room, just like everything else, a warm familiarity as he walks to lie down exhausted, on his designated spot on the bed, pulling over some of his plushies that he left at your place as you join him in bed. As you crawl onto the soft bed and lie down, almost instantly you were pulled in close, his arms wrapping around you tight as he sighs again with a smile, enjoying the skinship.

The two of you get comfortable, his face lightly pressed into your shoulder as he laid in your arms. One of your hands around him as the other lightly strokes his hair, comforting him from all the work he has put in to reach where he was. Aphelios just couldn't help but feel all his trouble melt away, that ache in his muscles magically leaving him. Trying his best to fight off sleep as he wants to spend every minute more with you. It was not enough, never enough. Hours, days, years, spent by your side but in the end, all he can do now is but enjoys the little seconds before his consciousness wanes.

Once again, the warm comfort of the usual that has now become but a precious rarity. As he flits in and out of consciousness, he does one final act of love. You smile as he pulls himself up closer to your ears.

" I love you. Goodnight..."

As you adjust yourself to face him, you're met with a warm smile, his dyed hair falling softly around him on you, an almost ethereal glow on his skin from the moonlight seeping in from your window as he blinks at you with half lidded eyes, barely open from exhaustion. Truly a beautiful sight, one that you can't help but to cherish.

" I love you too Phel. Rest well."

You reach out to give him a gentle goodnight kiss on his lips, and just like tonight, and all the nights you have spent, and will spend, with him, he reaches out and kisses you back. So matter of fact, so expected that it was almost comical. He loves you and you love him. And that was right. Slowly the two of you fall asleep in each others arms once again.

#I'll proof read this tmr #its 8am why am i writing at 8am #>< hes so...baby i love him and i want to take care of him #Aphelios #Heartsteel!Aphelios #Aphelios x Reader #Heartsteel!Aphelios x Reader #Aphelios League of Legends #Aphelios LoL #Aphelios League #Anon Answer #SCENARIO #League of Legends Scenario

198 notes · View notes

ravenclawhierra · 1 year

Text

Reading.

Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Summary: Ominis has had a rough day and he wants to spend some time with you. He asks of you a favor, wishing to spend as much as time with you as possible.

Tags: Insecure reader, fluff, Ominis being a sweetie, FLUFF

Word Count: 2,2k - 1,6k without the Deathly Hallows

It was just… tough. He wanted to rest. He was so tired. So exhausted. His thoughts were nothing but exhausting, honestly. Pushing him to the edge, it was too much. Everyday he'd deal with the same, today however, was worse on him than usual. As much as he was used to this, it'd still come for him - Killing him from the inside.

He had already lost a friend, and he was losing another one. He was grieving. Grieving over something that wasn't even lost. He felt as if it was bound to happen soon, but hoped it wouldn't. As much as he enjoyed the presence of his Angel, it wouldn't feel the same without his friend. Would he be asking for too much? He had hoped not.

Walking along the Hallway, he thought about how he wanted to see you now. Or at least feel you near him. You always helped him cheer up, forget about his horrible thoughts, or simply interrupted them when he's thinking about you. He was already finished with reading his book, he needed to get a new one from the library, he just hoped they would have more books in braille.

He skipped his way to the door and down the stairs of the library, and went ahead to find some more books. He walked along the section with books in braille before hearing two familiar voices. He listened to you and Sebastian speak.

"How long have you been together now? I mean, you still haven't given him a kiss, right?"

"We've been together for 2 weeks now and I know, I want to kiss him but I'm afraid…"

"Afraid of what exactly? He won't bite."

"I don't know, I'm afraid he won't like it, and what if he doesn't really like me either?"

He stepped in before the two of you could continue and you both looked up at Ominis.

"Hello Sebastian, (Y/n)," He greeted you, his voice a bit quiet. You hoped he hadn't heard the two of you talk. To your luck, he seemed as if he only entered the section and had nothing to hear. You sighed a small sigh of relief. You didn't want him to know just how you felt, not because you didn't trust him, but because you just couldn't get yourself to tell him. It was like something was pulling you back. Maybe fear? You just weren't sure.

"Hello Ominis, you can sit next to me if you'd like?" You wanted to state that, but you were just so unsure. Ominis smiled at you and sat next to you. How you hated your voice. You wish you didn't have to talk for him to understand you. But you had to.

You went to the next page of your book, hoping for something exciting. You loved reading fantasy books, they'd take you to an imaginary world where you could imagine yourself as a better person, and a different person entirely.

"What are you reading?" Ominis asked, his eyes gleaming with wonder. Oh those beautiful eyes of his.

"Oh I'm… I'm reading some fantasy book about dragons." Your voice was quiet, shy. He smiled at you. It was nice feeling you close to him, having you talk to him. He was already feeling somewhat better.

"Uh…" Sebastian sighed, "I just remembered I have detention."

"Well? Best of you to get going then." Ominis also sighed. It was his third time this week. What is he doing to get in this much trouble?

"Yes, I know. Have fun you two." Sebastian picked himself and his stuff up, murmuring and walking to wherever he had detention now.

Well, now it was awkward. For the both of you? You didn't know. You didn't know what to talk about, and Ominis was genuinely quiet usually. You did enjoy his presence though, so it was not too awkward for you. You hoped he felt the same way, because at least it wouldn't be awkward silence you're sitting in.

"Do you want to take this to the dormitory? My room at least. It would be quieter." Ominis suggested, to which you slightly blushed. You knew he wouldn't do anything funny to you, but it still made you kind of fuzzy on the inside.

"Sure," You agreed happily, "It would be nice to move from this spot for a bit."

You grabbed your books and picked yourself up, waiting for Ominis to do the same. He got up and used his wand to let him get around. Before taking any steps though, he reached for your hand and pulled you close to him.

"It would be easier for me this way," Your blush was covering your entire face now, thank Godrick he didn't see you now. You had hoped he didn't feel your heat all the way from your hand.

You slowly made your way to the dormitory with him. You both decided it would be nicer to walk. Floo Powder was there to help, always, but it was nicer just doing everything you two can, slowly. You had more time to talk, more time to laugh, smile. You always forgot about your worries when you were with him. You felt kind of free! Except when it came to telling him about your fear. Which is exactly what's stopping you from telling him.

When he smiles at you, when he laughs at your jokes, when he comforts you, soothes you, all of that. All of that made you feel like you were worthy of love. From none other than him. That was a big deal to you. The day you met him, you felt as if he had something against you, but as he opened up, you started liking him more and more. He did too, though.

However, neither of you could get yourselves to confess, and Sebastian was there to listen to the both of you. Constantly talking about each other. Lucky for the both of you, he couldn't stand it anymore, and made you two go on a date in Three Broomsticks. His plan was a success, as the two of you then started dating. Seriously, how could the two of you be so dense with each other's signals. The world will never know.

Finally, you had arrived to his room. It was your first time there. One side was clean, the other was a complete mess.

"I'm sorry, I share the room with Sebastian and he keeps not cleaning his room," He smiled at you awkwardly, "He claims he gets around easier with his mess."

You laughed. It was just like him to be like that. Messy room, messy hair. You wondered how the two of them got along so well.

Ominis sat on his bed, patting on the side next to him, calling out to you to sit next to him. And you complied. Oh no. The silence was there again. How do you go from quiet, to talkative, to quiet again?

"(Y/n)," Ominis called, "Would you mind doing me a favor?"

"Sure, do you need anything?" You asked, smiling at him. Your heart was pounding.

"I was in the library, looking for books. I couldn't find any." He smiled back at you, shy, "I was wondering if you could read something of yours to me, please?"

Oh my. What a request. You hated your voice. But you couldn't deny this to him. He asked so politely, so nicely. In that sweet voice of his, with those beautiful eyes.

"O-of course." Your blush was covering your entire body at this point. "Would the Deathly Hallows do?"

"I enjoy that story," Ominis laid down on his bed, checking if you'd lay down with him. "So, please do."

"I'll sit, but I will still read to you." He nodded, closing his eyes and preparing to listen to you.

"There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure."

You cleared your voice slightly, keeping an eye on Ominis, but he didn't budge.

"And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travellers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him."

Ominis slowly grabbed your free hand, wanting warmth.

"So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered the Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother."

Your hand squeezed his, giving him more warmth.

"Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead."

The room was getting colder and you wished you could have his warmth around you.

"And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility."

Ominis slowly massaged your palm with his hand, smiling at you, making you even warmer.

"Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death’s gifts. In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination."

All this time, you were imagining the three of you guys in the story. A perfect trio.

"The first brother travelled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible."

You wondered if Ominis was thinking the same. You took your hand away from him quickly to go to the other page.

"That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother’s throat. And so Death took the first brother for his own."

He Immediately went back for your hand.

"Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him."

You looked at Ominis, hoping he was enjoying your storytelling.

"Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her."

You focused on finishing the story now.

"And so Death took the second brother for his own.

But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life."

You closed the book and quietly mumbled a small "That's it."

You were hoping to get a reaction from him, but he was asleep now. You smiled at him and put the book on his table, right next to the bed.

You joined him now, laying right beside him. He looked so peaceful while asleep. Tell him.

"It doesn't help now," you whispered, "But I'm scared. I'm not sure of what. I just am."

"I know you can't hear me now, but I don't want to lose you because of myself. I want to be myself with you. I want you to accept me the way I am. Which is just… Insecure. I'm sorry."

You stared at him. He was so pretty. He was so nice. Understanding. Caring. Friendly. All of that, and he's yours. It was just a blessing to have him.

You got up for a second, grabbing the blankets which were folded by the foot of his bed, covering the both of you. You cuddled up to him. Simply adoring him. Without much thinking, you pecked his lips.

"I love you, good night."

He wasn't asleep though. And he heard you. He always has heard you. He will always listen to everything you say, he knows how important that is to you. He will return everything you have done for him, tomorrow. Just as the two of you wake up.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt fanfiction #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanfic

381 notes · View notes

bucknastysbabe · 1 year

Text

My puppy man is trained,,,

Rating: Explicit what’s new

Word Count: 1,544

Tags: 40’s au continued, BIG OLE SUB BUCKY, chubby!bucky, dom!afab!reader, lots of name calling and teasing, Degredation, ye olde butt stuff (m!receiving), begging, man tears, oral (m!receiving), he’s the whiniest of babies in this bad boy

A/N: I told y’all thoughts were incoming about those Bucky pics from CW I found also this gets kinda weird as in The Other Kink bleeds thru at times but hey I write smut for fun so LICK IT UP

Bucky was whining and whining for her attention, eyes shot red and glassy from tears. She turned a page in her book with a manicured hand. His wife was clad in only her undergarments, perfect body on display. The Sargeant eyed her legs, gasping in strung out pleasure.

Her red lips moved. Bucky had to really focus to understand, especially with his hips jerking into the pillow. “Horny puppy,” she laughed. He frowned in distress, a sad noise crawling up a raw throat. Bucky could barely think straight, even fucking his cock against the pillow was hard.

His frantic rocks against the silky thing were disjointed and sporadic— Bucky would stop to beg some more and fail. His balls hurt and the damn thing Buck’s pretty wife had shoved up his ass didn’t help. It grazed against his prostate on the right move, but the needy brunette really just wished it was something he could bounce on.

Bucky swallowed the drool in his mouth at the thought of having something heavy sitting on his sweet spot, crying out in a surprised manner. Her eyes flicked up at that, a questioning look on stern features. She asked, “Did something come up? Dumb puppy have a thought?”

He nodded desperately, lips unable to form anything besides another whine. Bucky’s mind was growing more scrambled by the second. She put down the book carefully, sitting up to peer at her mess of a husband. Oh fucking please, please, Buck thought.

Her victory red lips curled into a smirk as she crawled forward off the chaise lounge— slinking towards Bucky. His wife cooed, “What were you wanting sweet boy?” She watched him grab harder onto the pillow, shoving it firm between his trembling thighs.

The sargeant mewled, “Ah- hngh- I wan’!”

He couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence, too overcome and fuck dumb to talk. She giggled softly, pressing a thumb between his bite-swollen lips. Bucky sucked at the intruding digit eagerly, eyes peering wide up at his wife. She hummed, “Poor pup, can’t even talk, only good to hump and look pretty.” His eyes slid shut quickly, a frustrated moan echoing in the room.

“Let me guess, you want more up your greedy ass,” she said to Bucky’s excitement. He nodded and sucked harder on her thumb to show, yes, he really really really wanted that. She grabbed at the soft flesh on his side, teasing, “Always gotta have more huh sweetheart? Glutton.” Bucky blushed in hot shame, making his dick throb worse.

His wife had a point, he did over-do most things in life. His eyes flicked away as she continued in a low purr, “Never know when enough is enough. More work, more food, more sex.” He frowned deeper. Bucky’s currently very mean wife tutted and said, “C’mon then pup, turn around so I can fuck you.”

He peered up at her in confusion, her thumb sliding out from puffy lips, a thin string of drool connecting the two. “God, you’re clueless,” she patted a full cheek attentively, “On your back.” Bucky blushed in embarrassment. He truly was brain dead right now. The man’s wife always liked him to be exposed. He discarded the pillow slowly, rolling back to lay down.

Bucky was acutely aware of his flushed cock, soft belly, and stretched ass on display. He felt his whole body heat up at her predatory look, a hand planting on his hip with a rough squeeze. Bucky whined through his nose and shut his eyes tight. God- he was a mess but she made it feel so damn good.

“Spread em’ babydoll.”

He did so with a broken pant of her name, eyes still closed. The sargeant’s cheeks were flaming and probably matching her lipstick by now. Her other hand thumbed his nipple before sliding down to his belly. She mused, “Chubby pup.” Bucky trembled when she grabbed a handful of his softened tummy, nails digging in just so.

“F-fuck, god, please n-no,” he begged breathlessly.

She gave another possessive squeeze and let go. Bucky could breathe again, slightly. He’d get so overwhelmed when she’d tease about the extra weight, but he never made an attempt to work it off, because Bucky was apparently masochistic like that. Insanity really.

“You’re so pretty like this,” she commented, squeezing at a thigh, leaning forward to loom over him. Bucky couldn’t catch his breath, sounding like he’d run across the entirety of Brooklyn. She cooed, “Relax sweetheart, shh, I’ve got you, shh.” He laid his head back down and sucked in a breath to steady himself, focusing on her hand rubbing methodical circles on the softer inner thigh, dangerously close.

“You want me to open you now sweet pup? Such a good boy.”

Good boy. He was being good.

Bucky’s eyes pricked with tears, again. He whimpered uselessly, “P-pluh-ease.”

She pressed a kiss to Bucky’s knee, smiling real gentle and sweet at him. He stuttered on a breath, chest heaving when his wife eased the plug out of his ass. The tears ran down his full cheeks at the aching feeling of being empty, the sargeant blubbering about the horrid sensation. “I know, just a second baby,” she promised. Two of her fingers slid into the heat of his ass, moaning under her breath.

Bucky’s cock twitched at the sensation, mouth falling open on a weary cry. She scissored him for a bit before sliding in her ring finger with a soft coo, “So wet for me baby, lookit’ you.” He whined her name, spreading his legs wider and dragging fingertips into the wood floor. Bucky’s absent mind tittered about him making claw marks.

He definitely made scratches with his metal hand at the feeling of his wife’s hot mouth around his cock. Bucky arched into her touch, shouting when she found his swollen prostate. Her fingers rubbed slow circles into the sensitive gland while the woman’s tongue assaulted his tip. The brunette begged in a pitch that hurt his throat, “Ohh, baby, ohmygod, oh it feels s’good s’good please pl-please!”

He had no clue what he was begging for. Only that this felt like heaven and she was the angel. His wife bobbed her head along, fingers still making the maddening circles. Her free hand groped at Bucky’s thigh before cupping his sac and rolling. He arched painfully and shook, noises getting higher and higher, louder and louder. She pulled off his dick, Bucky choking on a breath.

She laughed, “Sound so damn cute. Put you behind a curtain and those SSR boys would think I was the one getting fucked.” Bucky brokenly whined again, sweet shame licking up his spine. Her hand lifted from his sac to jerk him off firmly, rambling in a raspy tone, “Yeah? You like that pup? Big strong Barnes is a whiny little slut when he gets something up his ass huh?”

His baby curled her fingers up harder with a grin. Bucky wailed, shaking his head to deny her words. Even if he was proving the point to be correct. She quickened her fist around his achy cock, purring, “Why are you lying baby? You can’t go more than two days without something in there.” Bucky sobbed softly, coming extremely close to that breaking point.

“Slut. That’s what you are,” she breathed over his sobbing lips, “You’re gonna cum from me telling you that.” Bucky rode her fingers in earnest, more of a jerky movement as he couldn’t figure out the hand and fingers thing. He moaned deep in his chest, “M’a slut, oh god, yes!” She pecked his wet lips and slid her thumb across his weeping slit.

“There we go. My greedy, soft, pretty slut. Wanna see you let go now sweetheart.”

The missus didn’t have to tell him twice, Bucky wailing again and painting his tummy and her hand with his spend. His thighs trembled and fingers scraped feverishly. The brunette couldn’t stop crying, his ass squeezing her fingers like a vice. She kept up the movement of her digits, hand sliding slick over his dick overwhelmingly.

“Fuck, Bucky, so precious,” she gasped in awe.

He finally sobbed from overstimulation, “S’too much s‘ much I’ve been good- hngh! N-no more!”

Her hands cleared from Bucky’s throughly used body, relocating to his belly and thigh. She whispered, “Such a good boy, came on my fingers like you were made for it.” Bucky could only respond with a breathless warble of nonsense, blue eyes lidded with exhaustion. He couldn’t even manage to bitch about his wife��s slim hand rubbing his pudgy belly. Bucky blinked away more tears, nuzzling her neck, panting.

“Do you want some water? Maybe I can draw a bath after huh baby?,” she asked slowly. Bucky held onto the words and finally nodded, his scrambled brain was still offline. His wife smiled and let him pull her flush on top of him, chiding him for getting her dirty. She said that with no heat, instead laying featherlight kisses and praises in Bucky’s ear.

She sighed, “I love you, my sweet Buck.”

Bucky clenched her closer and tapped back ‘I love you’ in Morse code, earning a delighted laugh from the woman. The Sargeant could truly say, he has it good, for once.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x female reader #sub!bucky #chubby!bucky

594 notes · View notes

shewrites7 · 2 years

Text

Spilled Secrets

johnny cade x fem!reader

summary: Everyone can't help but notice the signs--Johnny's been blushing more often than usual. He's more quiet around y/n than he usually is. Plus, the boys are clearly hiding something. All signs point to ... no, they couldn't. They can't, right?

type - one shot

word count [4.2k]

tags: Johnny Cade x female!reader, friends to lovers, achingly cute Johnny, shyness, poorly kept secrets and an accidental love confession. (no specific mention of appearance, race, etc.)

warnings: some swearing, outdated views on women, mentions of death, implied mention of sex

add. - i wrote this a couple months ago + it was originally posted on my ao3 and i haven’t proofread it since so just a heads up but enjoy my first one shot! :)

"If you could make one wish, what would it be?" The thought popped into my mind randomly, spurring up another height in the conversation between the whole gang. We're all lying around the Curtis living room like we usually do during those nights when we've got nowhere better to be. And for once, Dally isn't off somewhere with some girl or snatching stuff from some corner store with Two-Bit. It's all eight of us here, sitting spread around the room, laying on couches or leaning against walls, even lying on the floor, but we make it work.

"Easy," Two-Bit replied, chugging down some pop and crushing the can. "I'd wish for a lifetime's supply of hot babes and any food I want, anytime I want it." He let out a loud belch to match his obvious response, and Soda chuckles like a young kid.

"Really, Two?" I reply. "You'd ask for girls and food?"

"Why not?" He shrugs with a grin. My hand goes to my face, and I hear Johnny let out a snort.

"That's fuckin' stupid, Two," interrupts Dallas, to the gang's surprise. "Why not just ask for unlimited money and seal the deal? The broads'll be chasing after you with no problem, and you don't even gotta worry about the food."

Two-Bit's face lights up at his response. "Ah, shoot, Dally. You're spot on!"

I find myself looking over at Johnny from where I stand, leaning against the wall. He's on the floor next to Two-Bit, by Dally's feet from where he's spread on the couch. He looks at me amusedly and shrugs. It's impossible to control Dallas Winston, especially when Two-Bit's involved, cheering him on like he does. Johnny knows this all too well.

I roll my eyes. "What a thoughtful response, Dal."

He winks and clicks his tongue in that cocky, Dallas way. "Thanks, hun."

Two-Bit snorts out laughter. "Fine then, shortcake," he begins with a grin and raised, expectant eyebrows. "What would you ask for then, Mother Mary?"

I glare at him and his ridiculously thick sideburns. "I don't know, but it wouldn't be a bunch of hot guys and a shit-load of money," I smirk. He guffaws. "Maybe," I start, "I'd ask for peace on Earth or something like that. Something to knock some sense into this stupid world."

"Ha!" He laughs out. "'Course, angel face here would pick world peace. What else's on your mind, Mary Sue?"

I send him a glare to leave him running.

"Calm down," he relents, "only joking." Yea, right.

"Well," I say, moving on. "What about you, Steve?"

He's sitting in the recliner Darry usually sits in, the oldest Curtis off behind the kitchen counter doing who knows what.

"Same thing as Two," he says, shuffling a deck of cards to play with Soda. "Broads and money sounds pretty sick to me. What else could you want?"

Ponyboy lets out a snort from where he sits, too, in between Dally and Soda on the couch. His nose has been ten feet deep in a book for most of our conversation.

"Alright," I start. "So you, Two-Bit, and Dally, all choose girls and money?" They all nod. "Okay... and me, I choose peace on Earth, a sensible wish, mind you-"

The gang of restless teen boys scoff and boo at me.

"Anyways," I stop them. "Would anyone else here wish for something different? Ponyboy?"

He looks up from his book again thoughtfully and shrugs after a moment, looking down at the pages of his book quietly.

"I, uh," he stutters. "I'd probably just wish for my mom and dad to come back, you know?"

The muttering of the rest of the gang comes to a steady silence, us having all heard him, even if he spoke softly. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis's deaths are still a fresh wound, even to the rest of us.

"Yea, me too," mutters Soda quietly, stopping his game of cards.

Darry comes over from the kitchen island and leans against the back of the couch, his two hands on Ponyboy's shoulders in support. "I would, too, kid."

No one speaks for a moment, but we all know how sensitive the subject is. It was stupid of me to ask something like that, anyway.

"Shoot, Pony," I say quietly. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright, y/n," he waves a hand. "Don't worry 'bout it." He looks up at me and nods assuringly, though it really should be me trying to comfort him.

"If it makes it any better," starts Two-Bit, "I'd wish for them to come back too, now that I think of it."

Ponyboy smiles, slightly. "Even over your hot babes?"

Two-Bit scratches his red-haired head with a laugh. "'Course, Pony. Even over my hot babes."

Ponyboy laughs, and Soda grins, and with his brilliant, movie star smile, things brighten up instantly.

"Hey," Two-Bit begins with that hint of mischief underlying his tone. "We all know what Johnny here would wish for, ain't that right, Johnnyboy?" He nudges him with his elbow a little bit, smirking at him like he knows something real funny. Johnny stiffens, piquing my interest.

"Huh," I butt in. "And what'd that be?"

"Nothing!" interjects Johnny, quickly. He realizes his loud tone and flushes pink. "It's, it's uh, nothin'."

The rest of the gang starts snickering like they know something good, too. Even Ponyboy's hiding a smile in the pages of his book and looking on with interest.

"Really?" I ask, not believing Johnny's hasty reply. "You wouldn't wish for anything, Johnny?" Two-Bit looks at him expectantly entertained.

"Sure I would," he gulps. "I'd, uh, I'd wish for a ton of money, like, um, like Dally." Two-Bit claps loudly with booming laughter.

"Pfft! Come on! We all know what you really want." He chuckles at me. "Well, maybe not all of us."

"What are you on about, Two?" I question.

"I'm sayin'," he gestures, "what he really wants is for- hEy!"

Johnny hurriedly shoves his hand in front of Two-Bit's mouth, making his voice come out all muffled as Two-Bit struggles out of his surprisingly firm grip. They're wriggling all over the floor like seaweed in the ocean, acting ridiculous, per usual.

"Ay! Knock it off you two!" Orders Darry from behind the couch, snapping at them like the responsible guardian he is. Two-Bit's reaction to Johnny trampling him is more amused than anything. He pushes the rather thin boy off of him with an easy shove, and both of their hair is messed up by the time they're back in their spots. Johnny's glaring up a storm at him from under his raven bangs.

"Alright, alright, sorry kid," Two-Bit agrees, putting up his hands in surrender. His sly face really says how sorry he is. "It's you diggin' your our own grave then, Johnny."

Johnny's eyes widen to show the black pupils that remind me of puppy-dog eyes so much, and he looks down at his worn-in sneakers, before looking back up and catching my eye. I wanna kick myself for having been laughing, just a tad, at the whole thing. He's flushing like crazy.

"Sorry 'bout all of uh, all that, y/n," says Johnny. I bite back a giggle.

"It's alright, Johnny. Don't worry 'bout it."

It's silent for a second if you don't count Sodapop and Steve's snickering from behind their hands. Darry sighs.

"Alright guys, I think we've had enough for tonight. Let's head off to bed, yea?"

Dally rolls his eyes. "It's not even midnight yet, Curtis. Who are ya, an old lady?" The gang snickers, but Darry isn't having any of it.

"No, Dal, I'm a responsible older brother who wants all of your asses to wake up for school tomorrow without me having to drag you out of bed, that's who."

Dally scoffs and mumbles under his breath quietly while getting up from the couch, and we all relent and start to do the same. "Don't even go to school..." he mumbles.

"Me neither," replies Soda, annoyed. But whatever Dally says, it goes, at least in this house.

The rest of us gather up our stuff, mostly just crushed up cans of pop and candy rappers, cigs, and other stuff like that. I let out a hand to Johnny to where he sits on the ground still. He doesn't notice at first, but when he does, he gives me a small smile and grabs it, hoisting himself up.

"Thanks," he says quietly. I nod in response with a sweet smile.

"Hey," Steve says, breaking through the noise of rustling, tired feet. "How're we supposed to fit everyone? We only got two rooms."

Soda shrugs. "Don't know. We'll make it work, 'always do."

Darry walks around to the hall and opens the closet, pulling out a couple of thick blankets and pillows. "We share, that's how." He nods to the pile. "Take 'em.'

We make a move for the pile, and he continues.

"Soda and Pony can sleep on the couch here, right guys?" He looks over at them and they shoot him a thumbs up. "Good. I can sleep on the recliner here, Two and Steve can get the main bedroom and sort out who's goin' on the floor, Dally and Johnny can figure out some space in the smaller room, and..." he looks around at the rest of us, or, as it really is, just me.

"Well, I'm not really sure how you wanna go about this, y/n, so, uh, it's up to you."

Ah yes, the awkward times when being the only girl gets in the way of me doing normal stuff with the guys. The boys look at me like I'm some two-headed alien, and Two-Bit starts chuckling, perfectly in character.

'I'm sure Johnny wouldn't mind lettin' y/n over here crawl into bed with him, right?" He nudges Johnny's arm, and his ears go red.

"Well, I, uh..."

"Don't be silly," I cut in. "I can just sleep over here on the floor, it's no problem." Johnny shakes his head quickly.

"No, y/n. You don't gotta sleep on the floor, you're just a girl."

I raise my eyebrows at him, and he hesitates. "... What I... what I mean is, we can figure out another way, can't we?"

"Hm, like what?"

"Well," he begins, playing with his fingers. "I could always just sleep at my own place, if it really is-"

"No," most of us cut in. Dallas shoves his shoulder.

"Don't be dumb, Johnny." Dally's tone is softer than it usually is, and I'd be surprised if he was talking to anyone other than Johnny, who he's always had a soft spot for.

"Yea, Johnny," I respond. "Don't be ridiculous. You're sleeping here."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Well," he starts, "then you're not sleeping on the floor."

I don't miss the look Soda and Two-Bit pass to each other from behind Johnny. I huff.

"There's no other way, alright? It's fine-"

"No y/n, you-"

"Shut up, the both of you, will ya?" Asks Dally. He takes the last cigarette of the night out of his mouth, and I have the urge to cough. Smoking's never been my thing.

"I can sleep on the floor out here, and you two can sleep together alone in the room."

Johnny blinks at him, and I spot the hint of a smirk creeping upon Dally's features. "There, problem solved."

The blinking continues, along with a wolf whistle or two from Two-Bit and co.

'N-no, you don't gotta do that, really," urges Johnny. Dallas isn't listening to any of it. He pats him on the back.

"Don't worry, Johnnykins," he winks. "It's my pleasure."

Two-Bit snorts, and then the hollering starts, with more whistles and hoots and whoops, and other animal-like noises coming from everyone else. Darry sighs.

"Alright you guys, that's enough of torturing Johnny and y/n. Time for bed."

Dally clicks his tongue. "Y'know what? I'm gonna go get some more cigs." He grabs his brown leather jacket and heads out the door before Darry can say much more. With a tip of his head, Dally fades into the night. So much for Darry trying to control Dallas. He snaps his head to the side.

"Nope-" Darry says, looking over at Soda who's walking towards the door too. "Get to bed, Soda. All of you!" He starts clapping his hands together like a school teacher.

"Yea, yea," Two-Bit says tiredly. Then he turns towards me and Johnny grins. "Don't have too much fun in there, alright?"

"Did ya hear what I said, Matthews?!" Darry starts pushing him out of the room and motions us towards the hallway.

"'Night, you two," he says to just the two of us, with something glimmering in his eyes.

I nod. "Night Darry."

Even when we all start heading off to bed, Two-Bit manages to get one last remark in.

"And don't forget to use protection!"

Johnny starts coughing from behind me, at that, breaking out into a choking fit in the middle of the hall. I try and pat his back a bit, but he's still coughing a bit.

"You alright?" I ask shakily. He almost looks green, standing on wobbly legs.

"I," he starts slowly. "I think I just need to use the bathroom for a sec."

He looks at me quickly, stretching the collar of his shirt away from his neck. I shake my head in understanding and move to help him to the bathroom, but he practically jumps.

"I'm, uh, I'm alright. Th-thanks y/n."

He blindly searches for the doorknob leading to the bathroom before wobbling in and shutting the door quickly behind him. Sighing, I turn around, and the guys are all staring and holding back laughs. I give them dirty looks, but they just won't stop.

"You leave him alone, alright!" I tell them. "I don't know what's wrong with of you guys tonight, but if that's what's making Johnny act so sick and all, then you should cut it out. Seriously, I mean, I've never seen Johnny like this before!"

Ponyboy just shrugs. "Well to be fair, you don't notice a couple a' things about Johnny."

I frown. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Soda elbows him in the ribs. "Nothin'," he says through a gritted-toothed smile. Pony recoils and rubs at his side.

"Yeah well, I've been getting a lot of 'nothin's' lately from the lot of you." I tap my foot. "Just tell me what you're hiding."

When I look at them expecting something, Ponyboy's eyes widen, Sodapop and Darry clear their throats, Steve's jaw slacks, and Two-Bit just starts plain chuckling.

"What ... what do ya mean?" Asks Soda. He rubs at the back of his neck.

"I ain't an idiot," I say. "So what aren't you guys telling me? Am I missing something? Did somethin' happen?"

Steve starts laughing and scoffing like I've said something ridiculous. "'Course not. Hell, what could we possibly be hiding?"

"I swear, Steve if you're lying to me right now I-"

"Geez y/n," cuts in Two-Bit. "You're actin' like we're keeping something crazy from you! What could we be hiding? Nothing! Exactly! It ain't ... it ain't like Johnny's in love with ya or anything..." Two-Bit yells, exasperatedly laughing, wiping at his forehead. The rest of the guys turn to him with pure panic in their eyes. Suddenly, everything clicks. I swallow.

"Johnny's ... Johnny's in love with me?"

Their eyes snap to mine in an instant. It's like everything that's gone on between me and Johnny for the past few months playback in my mind. All the blushing, all the teasing from the rest of the guys. How could I have not realized it?

"How couldn't I have caught on?" I ask, almost yelling. Soda takes a step closer to me with his hands out like he's approaching something dangerous. When his eyes snap to something behind me, the same time as the other boys, I don't even notice, at the moment.

"How could nobody tell me?" I grab my hair, a hand on my forehead. "How could nobody tell me that Johnny's been in love with me?!"

A creaking sound makes its way to my ears, and I finally realize what everyone turned around at so fast.

Johnny's standing in the doorway to the bathroom, his jean jacket, which I assume he'd been holding in his hand, laying on the floor next to him. He's staring at me like I've just killed Pony or something, jaw slacked and eyes wider than I've ever seen 'em before. We make eye contact, and my heart drops low into my chest.

He licks his lips, thinking of something to say.

"Y/n..." he says softly. I don't even know how to respond.

"Johnny..."

Two-Bit sucks in a breath from behind me, and that's when Johnny turns from me to him, glaring at him like he wants to smack him over the head.

"I'm real, real, sorry Johnny, I swear it was an accident, I-"

Two-Bit stops talking when he realizes his rambling's no use. He looks at me for a second, tipping an invisible hat, and scrambling towards the door.

"Good luck!" He shouts. And he's gone, out the door just like that.

The rest of the gang looks over at us too, and then at the door that Two-Bit left from just a second ago. Then they're running outside the house, too, a tangle of limbs trying to escape whatever mess just started in the Curtis living room.

"See ya!" Soda yells over his shoulder, saluting the two of us and jogging away. Steve shrugs and follows, Ponyboy smiles meekly at me and does the same, and Darry, last of all, snaps his fingers at us and leaves too.

Now, it's just me and Johnny. Great.

No love confession I see in the movies ever looks like this. On the big screen, everyone starts trying to kiss each other and usually, the girl even sheds some tears. Right now, though, Johnny can't even lift his head to look at me, and we're both too scared to say anything. Real romantic, if you ask me.

I let out a puff of air from my lips. Nothing breaks the heavy silence. Not until Johnny clears his throat and looks up at me, starting to say something, but it's like the words die on his lips. I take a breath in.

"Johnny I-"

"Y/n-"

We both start speaking at the same time. I stop, and so does he, and then we're both chuckling under our breaths. The laughter makes this a little bit easier.

"Y/n..." he starts again, taking a sudden interest in his shoes. "I know how crappy this looks right now, alright? Sorry if I embarrassed you in front of the guys-

"Johnny stop-," I try to interrupt, but he puts up a hand determinedly.

"No, y/n. Let me just say this, okay? You don't gotta say anything, y/n. I already know what you're thinking and it's okay if you just think of me as some kid brother but I... I really need to just get all this off my chest 'cause it's been killing me, okay?"

He looks at me, waiting for an answer. I nod, and he takes a breath in.

"Okay well um..."

He pauses, shoves his hands in his pockets, and then sighs outwardly at himself.

"I can't think of a good way to say this, so here it goes. Y/n, I've ... I really like you. Yea ... I really, really, like you. I like everything about you. Your smile, your hair, you..., yea, just, you. And um, well, I've probably went and screwed up everything between us and our relationship and all, not that we're in a relationship, you know, but uh ... yeah, I uhm... yeah. I really like you and I just can't hold it in anymore.

"The guys only caught on a few weeks ago and it's been killing me that I couldn't tell you, but I just wasn't ready. Hell, I'm not even ready now. I don't know what the hell I've been talkin' about to you for the past minute and, shit, I really love you for not making fun of me- uh... not that I love you. I don't love you, wait, yea I do. Wait! Stop it, golly, I'm so-"

He stops. Well, he stopped cause I kissed him on the cheek, completely out of character for me. But I couldn't help it. He was rambling ... a lot. A blushing mess and everything with his fiddling fingers, I just couldn't help it. Johnny, yes, Johnny Cade, is damn adorable.

I have to stand up on my toes just to reach his cheek, but, I find, I really don't mind it. His puppy dog eyes go into shock when I pull away, and I have the urge to just wrap my arms around him right then and there.

He touches the spot where I laid a kiss on his cheek and looks down at his fingers as if something would be there. Then he looks down at me, the corner of his lips quirking upwards. I shrink into myself a little.

"Sorry, um, I don't know what got into me."

He laughs, calmer than I've seen him all night, but then he tenses up again and chews on his bottom lip.

"... Y/n?" he asks me.

"Yea Johnny?"

He shifts from foot to foot. On an impulse, I take his hand in mine. Surprisingly, he seems to calm down from it. He clears his throat and continues.

"You, uh, you wanted Two-Bit to tell you what my one wish would be, right?"

I laugh a little. That seems like it happened over an hour ago when it's really only been a handful of minutes.

"Yea, I guess, but it don't matter that much Johnny, trust me it's-"

"No-, just ... can I show you?"

I'm a little surprised by that.

"Show me?"

Johnny stammers a tad.

"Uh ... yea."

Looking up into his eyes, I notice that our hands are lightly clasping each other's. His eyes are like a pool of black, like the night sky. No wonder he likes looking at the stars with Pony so much. I grin softly.

"Sure Johnny. I'd like that."

He sighs a bit in relief and looks down at our hands, and then back at me. Leaning in ever so slowly, it seems like time slows for a few seconds, as he's nearing me, and then he stops. Our faces are so close, I can feel the soft, raven locks of hair on his forehead brushing the top of my head.

I give his hand a squeeze in reassurance and close the distance for him, pulling him in by his collar with more confidence than I've ever felt before. With parted lips, both of ours meet.

They move in a soft dance, back and forth. The kiss with him is gentle and sweet, the kind of kiss you'd expect from Johnny, without the awkwardness of it all. After a few seconds, he's the one pulling me in, lightly putting his hands on my waist.

My hands tangle in his hair, and it feels like I could get lost in this moment forever. I almost do. I almost do, that is, until I hear a dreadingly familiar whooping and hollering from outside.

Jonny and I pull apart quickly, snapping our heads towards the window where, of course, the gang is all spread out, clapping and yelling with their hands to their mouths. They notice us looking, and yell even louder.

"Get some, Johnny!" comes the muffled voice of Two-Bit from outside the window. Having forgotten the fact that Johnny's supposed to be mad at him for spilling his secret, he's shooting overexcited thumbs-up at him.

Sodapop winks my way. "Atta girl," he says with a smirk. Now, I'm the blushing mess, a pile of mush in Johnny's arms. He's blushing madly too, like always, but this time, I have the pleasure of knowing why. Boy, this is a weird feeling.

The rest of the gang keeps clapping and cheering, and even Pony's laughing at me during some of the fun. He's always had a soft spot for making me embarrassed at times like these. This time, though, as I'm staring up at Johnny and his adorably bashful face, I don't think I mind.

A slam comes from the backdoor, shocking me and Johnny out of our momentary trances. And, perfectly on time, here comes Dallas Winston.

"Got the cigs," he nods curtly. When he sees how close Jonny and I are standing, he stops in his tracks.

"Woah..." he says. Then he notices the screeching laughter of the gang out front and the embarrassingly noticeable reenactment of me and Johnny's kiss that Two-Bit seems to be doing on the lawn.

His head snaps to us, quicker than I've ever seen it. Concerned, Dally?

He rubs his slack-jaw with his hand.

"What the hell did I miss?"

#the outsiders #johnny cade #one shot #johnny cade x reader #johnny cade x y/n #ralph macchio #johnny cade imagine #johnny cade fanfic #johnny cade x you #johnny cade x female reader #elixroflove

1K notes · View notes