#Slow Heat | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

snoozepotato · 1 year

Text

We’ll Be Fine -14- (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader)

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the original source material or any of its characters.

she/her pronouns + female anatomy

Category: slice of life, slow burn, mutual pining

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, swearing, eye contact, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, over-stimulation, multi-orgasm, creampie, soft Ghost, anxiety, scars, tattoos, fluff

Masterlist

Summary: Ghost shows up at your room late at night, he just got back and has been gone longer than expected. You missed him a lot and things get out of hand (≖ᴗ≖)

Part 14

~UNDONE~

You’ve been trying your best to keep the negative thoughts at bay, it's not abnormal for missions to take longer than expected. But Ghost's vague estimate of a few weeks left you unsettled, even more so as time started to pass. A few weeks had turned into a few months, as life slogged by on base around you. Keeping yourself weighed down with busy work while your mind drifts.

Things take time, hell, you know that from experience. Even so, you’ve been worried about him, it's started affecting your already inconsistent sleep schedule. And dammit, you missed having tea with him in the morning!

You'd been brooding in your room since completing your work for the day, curled up in bed wearing Ghost’s hoodie. You're thankful he never asked for it back, in moments like these it was one of the only things that kept you grounded. Snuggling into the garment and taking a deep breath. It's been a while but somehow his scent still lingers in the fabric, or maybe it’s just some wishful thinking on your part.

Fuck, you're a wreck…

A sudden knocking on your door startles you from your position on the bed. Staring perplexed, why would someone be here this late? There's a sudden spark of fear that shoots through you, with the odd hour, what if it's bad news? You're frozen there for a moment, feet dangling off the edge of the mattress. Anxiety sitting cold in your gut as you just stare blankly through the darkness.

Until another knock erupts from the other side of the barrier, louder this time. You spring from the bed, the fear overtaken by curiosity. Whoever it is better have a good reason for waking you… Well, you technically weren't asleep, but you should be. You hastily unlock the door to peek your head out, only to be greeted by a broad chest.

There in your doorway, looking a little worse for wear is Ghost.

You're struck by the view of him standing there clad in that worn mask with the skull face plate. You've seen him wearing it on more than a few occasions, usually when he's on his way off base for work. It's rather intimidating, you're sure it serves its purpose out in the field. But if you're being completely honest, it's always left you feeling a little heated.

“You’re home,” dazed words escape you, feeling foolish at your choice of phrasing.

“Did I wake you?” He's grasping the door frame with a gloved hand, peering down at you with mild concern. Did he strip his gear off and immediately come looking for you? When did he even get back?

“No, I couldn't sleep… You can sit down,” you mutter, turning on the light and motioning him in. Taking one last glance out into the vacant hallway before closing the entry after him. Leaving you alone in the quiet of your room with Ghost, who's stripped off his jacket and taken a seat at your desk chair. Your frazzled mind is racing while you try to keep your rapidly slipping composure. The space grows quieter by the moment as he sits there staring at the ground between you.

“Everything ok?” You ask, but his mind is somewhere else, “Simon?” Stepping forward you stand in front of his seated form. The sound of his name coaxes his gaze up to meet yours, and fire erupts in his dark eyes.

“I’m fine,” he mutters.

“I was worried about you,” the words fumble from your lips as you take another step forward to stand between his widened legs.

“That why you're moping about your room… In my clothes?” He's smirking beneath the fabric of the mask, very obviously taking in your form before him. You can’t help but feel naked under his heavy gaze despite the oversized garment.

Observing wordlessly as he removes his gloves, and rests a now bare appendage at the hem of the sweatshirt. Your eyes are locked, as he searches for any sign of hesitation. Caressing the delicate skin of your thigh before trailing up to halt at the waistband of your shorts. Heartbeat hammering away in your chest as he dips a finger beneath the thin fabric. Dragging it down till the garment slips, pooling at your feet. A shaky breath escapes you as his lingering touch skims back up your leg to rest on your bare hip.

“Nothin' under those, you waiting up for me?” He murmurs darkly, eyes burning into yours.

“I missed you,” the words slip out as he lazily pulls you down to settle into his lap without resistance.

You reach out to caress the side of his face, thumb brushing over the rigid material of the weathered mask. He's watching you, curiously eyes meeting yours. Embarrassment creeps in as he catches your dreamy stare. Looking away with blushed cheeks and shifting restlessly.

“You seem to like this one,” he coaxes, tugging you further against him, putting an end to your weak attempt at retreat.

“I never said that,” you mutter defensively, caught off guard by his accusation, not that it wasn’t true…

“Don’t have to, I've caught you staring at me,” he pauses, “guess I never thought that was why.”

The dry words only further your embarrassment, as your head slumps against his shoulder to hide your feverish complexion.

Suddenly you’re hoisted upwards, choking down a shaky breath as the stiffness of him presses against you. Your legs braced around him as he makes his way over to your bed, lowering you onto the cot and caging you beneath him. As your body sinks into the thin mattress pad your mind is suddenly plagued with doubt, insecurity sparking in your chest.

“You're sure?… You were gone a while” you murmur awkwardly, propping yourself onto your elbows as you peer up at his looming figure.

“I’ve been waiting so patiently, love,” his words drip with desperate sincerity, that fire smoldering in his eyes as he descends upon you.

His hands work their way up your sides to snake beneath the material of the sweatshirt. Pulling the garment over your head and tossing it onto your desk chair. Your bare state would have felt unjust if his own shirt hadn't followed suit immediately after.

Leaving you laying there trying not to gawk, while nimble hands make quick work of his belt. Freeing the beast that's clearly trapped within the confines of his pants. To say the scale was daunting would be an understatement, but lying there beneath his toned figure, you were more than willing to accommodate.

“You ready for me?” He drawls, stroking his hard cock as he gazes down at your exposed form, like he's about to devour you.

“I’m all yours,” you coo as he brushes your entrance. Slowly teasing his head in and out of your already dripping slit, taking care to drag across your needy flesh till your thighs are twitching with building anticipation. A tightly coiled spring ready to burst, trembling and desperate for more.

The impatience quickly takes hold, hooking your knee over his hip to pull him deeper into you as he hisses out a curse. Consumed by the satisfying pleasure of being filled to the brim, his name uttered as a breathy sigh escaping your lips. Glazed eyes half-lidded as he admires your blissed expression, all for him.

“Fuck, you're tight” he rasps, the pressure building as your release begins to spill over. Gripping your knee, he pushes your leg up to split you open for his greedy length.

Gasping out in desperation, you arch to meet the friction of his rhythmic thrusts. Chasing that perfect angle, body tensing as you pulse with crackling pleasure. Riding out your orgasm all the while swimming in his murky gaze. The feeling of unraveling in his hands, fallen apart and at his mercy.

It's overwhelming.

Catching notice of your unrest, his pace slows as you try to catch your breath. But your eyes are downcast, suddenly afraid to meet his stare.

Icy doubt licking at your chest.

“Keep your eyes on me love,” hushed words murmured against your ear. You suck in a sharp breath, swallowing down a whimper as his heat leaves you. He grasps your chin with a firm hand, forcing you to meet his sharp gaze. Expecting to face the reaper, only to catch sight of his bare stumbled jaw. Your eyes lock for a long moment, the mask is gone. You're left gaping at him, eyes wide and startled.

“You alright?” His words are short, concern sparking in his stare.

You're so used to anonymity, it's easy to never see someone's face when you're sitting behind a computer all day. There was always that sliver of secrecy with Ghost until this moment, and it had always felt normal. Even so, it's still his eyes that draw you in, his trust in you is so blatant now. Every ounce of anonymity was stripped away, Simon caging you beneath him.

“I’m good,” you mutter through a sigh, leaning into his touch as his hold relaxes to caress your flushed face. His tense features unwinding at the view of you smiling up at him.

“Bend over for me love, I want to look at you, all of you,” he murmurs, your eyes held in his tender gaze.

Pulling you from your lying position, to bend you over the bed before him. Anxiety creeping in again as he admires your form from behind, feeling utterly vulnerable under his heavy gaze. But this heat washes over you, like he’s engulfed you in the fire smoldering in his eyes.

“Pretty little thing,” he breathes, running a hand down the length of your back, thumb tracing along the curve of your spine. He can feel the scars that lie beneath the white of your tattoo, a reminder of where you've been, how you got to him.

“Look how easy you’ve come undone for me,” he teases, an evident smirk in his tone.

Your back arches as he drags the head of his cock over your already sensitive flesh. Entering you again from your position bent over the bed. Your leg lowers to the floor to retain your balance as he presses deeply into your soaked folds. Simon letting out a low grumble of a moan as he thrusts to bury himself completely within you.

“Fuck, you're so wet,” he groans.

A strained wine escapes your lips at the friction, vision losing its focus momentarily. Craning your head to the side, catching his dark stare out of the corner of your sight.

“Your eyes… Do something to me,” you gasp breathlessly, your heated words gripping him as he continues relentlessly thrusting into you.

“Sensitive,” you sputter, bucking against him as the walls of your heat twitch with building pressure. Rough hands pulling you by the waist to meet his pounding length.

“Good,” he pants, “let go for me.”

Snaking a hand around you to rest the pad of his finger on your swollen clit. The action alone causes your hips to spasm involuntarily from overstimulation. Trembling wrists nearly give way as he circles the tender flesh.

Biting back a gasp as you're pushed over the edge again, your walls clenching around him as another orgasm rolls through you. His large hand cradles your breast, arching your back further as his thrusts grow frantic, cock pulsing as your heat spasm.

“Fuck,” he rasps, groaning as he jerks stiffly within you. Release spilling over, your body pressed against him, his breath hot in your ear. You shudder as his cock throbs, filling you with warmth, and you're unable to suppress the soft moan that escapes your lips.

His fingers curl into your side as he buries his face into your shoulder, thrusting sharply into you once more, completely drained.

You knew he'd eventually have to leave, but you couldn't help but drift off to sleep nestled against him. Simon's back to the door as he gazes down at you, keeping watch over your resting form.

The mask has returned when you wake sometime later, to a hand brushing the stray hair from your face. He murmurs something but you don't quite catch it through the haze of your slumber. In your foggy state, you completely miss him nabbing the mug off your desk before heading out the door.

The sound fully rips you from your stupor as you sit up in your cold bed, realizing you're once again alone in your room. You contemplate letting sleep take hold, but instead get up to re-clothe yourself in the sweatshirt he'd discarded on the chair. You feel kinda pathetic laying there sulking again in his absence, missing the furnace of a man in your bed...

But your thoughts are halted by a firm knocking on the door. Before you can second-guess yourself, you're already yanking the entry open. And there he is standing outside your door again, but now holding two cups of tea. Changed out of his dirty clothes from earlier, but still wearing that mask…

What a fucking tease.

“Told you I'd right be back,” he states plainly, making his way back into the small space and taking a seat at your desk.

Watching amused as you settle back onto your bed. It's quiet as you sip your tea, mask left discarded on your pillow. His short-cropped hair lay disheveled, pressed against his head from the long hours of wear. Calling your name softly, he looks so tired but there's this levity in his eyes.

You might have made a lot of mistakes in life, but meeting Simon Riley wasn't one of them. Looking at you with that tender gaze, it felt like home. Somewhere to return after the horrors of the world take their toll, hands to guide each other through the darkness.

WELL then, I hope you enjoyed (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

Thank you so very much for reading, this is all I have planned for this section of their story. I've got a few related fics/oneshots mulling in my brain so be on the lookout for those and more art!

@tallrock35 @violet-19999 @hypernovaxx @k4marina @sebsbee @d4z01 @ramadiiiisme @embers-of-alluring @enfppixie

1K notes · View notes

keldae · 2 months

Text

Cold Hands

The shadow-cursed lands were cold. Being a creature who always valued heat, Devi decided she hated this region for many reasons – the ambient cold that sunk into her bones and refused to leave was just one of those reasons. She had never been a person to complain about being too hot, even in the heat of summer in Baldur's Gate; here, she could barely get warm.

She swore as her lockpick broke in the lock of a building in the ruined village, her fingers too numb for the deft manipulations she needed to pick the lock. “Here, I'll do it,” Astarion said, grabbing her hands to shift them out of his way; a second later, he hissed. “Hells, darling, I'm a vampire and I think I'm still warmer than you!”

“Probably,” Devi grumbled, letting Astarion move her away. She breathed on her cold fingers, trying to get some heat in them before putting her gloves back on. “Fucking shadow curse… fucking cold…”

“You can't be that cold,” she heard Wyll say as he appeared at her side; his hands settled over hers and he swore out loud from the shock. “Oh, apparently you can be that cold!” he exclaimed, letting go of her hands. “And I thought Shadowheart was bad for cold hands!” He pointedly ignored Shadowheart's frown in his direction.

Devi wrinkled her nose. She knew the Sharran cleric also suffered from a persistent case of being chilly. “I'm not that bad,” she started to say.

“Yes, you are,” Astarion said, not looking up from the lock. “I dare you to go put your hands on Lae’zel when we return to the inn.”

“... No thanks. I like living.” Devi tucked her hands into her armpits, trying to warm them up. “Where's Gale when I need him? I need him to cast that hand-warming spell he has on me.”

“I think that spell only works on the hands of the person casting it,” Wyll said, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Sorry.”

Devi groaned, then shivered as a cold breeze (like there was any other type of breeze here) blew through the alley they were in, making her shiver. She cowered against the wall of the ramshackle building, trying to avoid the wind as much as she could. “Please hurry up, Astarion. Just because you don't feel the cold as badly doesn't mean the rest of us are that lucky!”

“Yes, please do hurry up,” Shadowheart agreed, moving to huddle against the wall with Devi. “Wyll, come stand here so you can shield us from the wind.”

“Oh, like I don't get cold too,” Wyll retorted, even as he obediently came over to try and provide a bit of a windblock for the two women. “Better?”

“Not really,” Devi mumbled, shivering. “How much am I going to get stabbed if I try to use you for body heat?”

“You won't get stabbed, but Gale will probably set me on fire,” Wyll muttered. “If you're going to use someone for body heat, use him.”

Devi frowned, wondering why Gale would set Wyll on fire. It wasn't like the wizard had really made any moves indicating a romantic or sexual interest in Devi. Sure, they'd flirted with each other, and they were sharing a bedroll (mostly to keep each other’s nightmares at bay), but if Gale hadn't tried to kiss her or touch her during the long nights they spent snuggling away the bad dreams, although Devi would have loved to feel him trying something with her… Gale wouldn't be jealous of Wyll being a walking heater for Devi.

Would he?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the click of the stubborn lock finally giving way. Astarion straightened up, a triumphant look in his red eyes. “Victory is mine! We'll look for those documents, and then get the hell back to the inn so you two ladies can warm back up.”

“There's any warmth to be found in these gods-forsaken lands?” Devi asked, feeling another shiver wrack her frame.

Astarion snorted. “Give Gale those pathetic kicked-puppy eyes of yours, and I'm sure he'll invent a spell to warm you up sufficiently, if he doesn't already know of one.”

—

The wind had just picked up as the day had dragged on, bringing with it a cold drizzle that soaked through to the bone – even Astarion and Wyll were shivering by the time the group made it back to the shelter of the Last Light Inn and their camp on its lawn. At the roaring campfire, Gale looked up from the cookpot as the group approached, a smile appearing on his face. “Welcome back! A fortunate thing that you returned before–”

Devi didn't let the wizard finish his sentence. She just hurried to his side and wrapped her frozen fingers around his robe-clad bicep. Gale yelped at the cold shock to his system and dropped the ladle back into the soup pot, indulging in a couple of choice profanities. Honestly, Devi hadn't even known the wizard could swear like that. “Hells, you're freezing, Devi! Did you jump in the river on the way?”

The rogue shook her head, teeth chattering as she tightened her hold on Gale's arm. “You're warm,” she mumbled, sidling up to him, trying to leech his body heat away through his robes.

“And you are not!” Gale spoke the Burning Hands incantation, then squirmed his arm free of Devi's grip before taking her cold hands in his own, heat radiating from his skin. She groaned in relief, feeling her hands start to thaw out in Gale's grip. “How are you so cold?” he asked, tsking as he gently ran his thumbs over the back of her hands. “Were you hit by an ice spell while out there?”

“Just unlucky?” Devi asked, shivering despite the heat on her hands.

“You may have some of the worst luck in Faerûn, if your hands are naturally so–” Gale yelped again as Shadowheart appeared on his other side, mimicking Devi's initial grip on his other bicep. “For the love of all the gods, what is it with you half-Elves having freezing hands?!”

“Genetic anomalies?” Shadowheart asked, still shivering. “Oh, you’re warm. Does being a mage make you run hot? You’re warmer than the two of us are…”

“Not warm enough to thaw out both of you!” Gale retorted. His eyes narrowed as Wyll and Astarion started to approach him. “Don't even think about it. There's hot soup if you want to warm up without torturing me.”

“How come they're allowed to use you to warm up?” Astarion complained.

“It isn't that they're allowed to use me,” Gale said. “I was ambushed!” He looked around, then shouted, “Karlach! Save me!”

There was a crash from the tents, then the sound of running footsteps as Karlach booked it over to the fire, eyes wide and fists balled up. “What? Where? What's going on?” Lae’zel was a step behind her, a knife in hand; she sighed and shook her head when she realised there were no enemies around for her to kill.

“I'm being turned to ice, thanks to our two half-Elves here!” Gale quickly explained. “They're heat vampires!” He was promptly swatted by Shadowheart; it did nothing to erase his smirk.

“Hey!” Devi protested. “I am not a vampire of any sort!”

“You're colder than our traditional vampire!” Gale retorted, squeezing her hands pointedly. Astarion snorted, but didn’t deny Gale’s statement.

“Heat vampires? I can help with that.” Karlach relaxed with a grin, then came up and wrapped her arms around Shadowheart, picking the cleric up and earning a squeal as the brunette lost her hold on Gale’s arm. The tiefling hissed in surprise. “Oh, you weren't kidding – she's even cooling down my engine!”

“... Warmth,” Shadowheart mumbled, snuggling into Karlach's embrace and sighing happily. “Oh, merciful Dark Lady, I'm finally feeling a little warm!”

“That's what I'm here for,” Karlach said with a laugh. “Between you and me, we can make an ideal body temperature.” She looked back at Gale and winked. “I saved you from one heat vampire, but you're on your own for the other.”

Gale chuckled. “I can deal with just one vampire.” He looked down as Devi flexed her fingers in his hold. “Can you feel your hands now, my dear?”

Devi nodded. Her hands indeed did finally feel warm, but the rest of her body was still cold. She stepped up into Gale's space and wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to absorb as much of his body heat as she could. “Does that Burning Hands spell work for the entire body?”

“I'm very good, but I'm not that good,” Gale muttered. He slid his own arms around her shoulders and tugged her face into his neck, shivering at her cold nose touching his skin. “And I had thought you were cold in the Underdark!”

“I never thought I'd say this, but I miss the Underdark,” Devi wistfully said. “It wasn't quite this cold!” She shivered again. “Can you just… I don't know, set me on fire?”

“I'm not setting you on fire, no matter how cold you are,” Gale firmly said. He started rubbing his hot hands up and down Devi’s arms, making her softly groan into his shoulder as the limbs started warming up. A moment later, the wizard raised his hands to his eye level, frowning. “... You’ve achieved a minor miracle, Devi. I think your cold body managed to extinguish the Burning Hands spell prematurely.” He pried himself out of Devi’s arms, then pushed her at Karlach and Shadowheart. “Go snuggle with Karlach while I find where those bowls for the soup went. Getting something hot in your bellies should help you warm up faster.”

Much though Devi would have preferred to stay in Gale’s arms, she couldn’t deny the appeal of Karlach’s radiating body heat – and the promise of Gale’s cooking was worth any sacrifice. She darted the two steps over to the tiefling and attached herself to Karlach’s midsection, making the taller woman yelp as she set Shadowheart back on her own feet. “Fucking hells, woman! I didn’t need Dammon to cool my engine down – I just apparently needed to snuggle you two!” she said as she wrapped an arm around each half-Elf.

“You’re my favourite person right now,” Shadowheart mumbled, finally looking relaxed for the first time since that morning.

“You’re my second favourite,” Devi said. “Gale still wins as my first favourite since he feeds me good food.” She heard Gale chuckle from the campfire as he started dishing up bowls of hot soup.

Karlach snorted. “Consider me unsurprised that he’s your first favourite, Dev,” she said with a grin. “When he– OI!” She jumped, startled. “For fuck’s sake, how are all you Elvish people so damned cold, Astarion?” she demanded, looking at the vampire who had just wrapped his arms around her from behind to get in on the sharing of body heat.

“Don’t look at me, I’m a vampire. Before I was turned, I had a perfectly average body temperature,” Astarion answered. “Besides, I’m reasonably sure Halsin has plenty of body heat to go around, and he’s also an Elf.”

“Halsin is also an anomaly as far as Elves go,” Wyll pointed out, looking like he was contemplating joining the snuggle-pile. His thoughts were diverted by Gale placing a steaming bowl of soup in his hands. “How many Elves do you see around his size?” he asked, wrapping his hands around the bowl and sighing in happiness as he started to warm up from the dish and its contents.

Astarion thought for a moment. “Fair point. Perhaps it’s an exclusive half-Elf thing. If we get Jaheira into this snuggle-pile…”

“She doesn’t seem to be the snuggly type,” Shadowheart pointed out. “And I don’t think she’ll appreciate being asked about her body temperature by the likes of us.”

Astarion shrugged. “Then we go back to the theory of human and Elf blood combining makes for half-Elves who can’t retain body heat worth a damn. We’re two for three for known half-Elves being – what did Gale call them? ‘Heat vampires’?”

“And the aforementioned heat vampires would not fare well in a Waterdeep winter,” Gale said with a chuckle, approaching the snuggling group with two full bowls in his hands, a third balanced over his shoulder with a Mage Hand spell. “One for each of you walking icicles, and one for Karlach, who I suspect will need to warm back up, herself. I’ll get another bowl for you in a moment, Astarion.”

“Oh, I could kiss you, Gale,” Devi mumbled, accepting the hot bowl from Gale, her fingers brushing against his. She flushed, hoping nobody else had heard her soft words – not even the wizard to whom they had been directed.

To judge by how Gale’s ears went red, he had heard her. But he didn’t appear displeased – he winked at her, then tilted his cheek invitingly. Recognising what he offered, Devi grinned and stretched up on tip-toe to kiss Gale’s bearded cheek, little more than a light peck. It was still enough to make him shiver, even as he smiled. “Do eat up – it will help you warm up faster. The last thing we need is anyone coming down with pneumonia here.”

Devi nodded and smiled at Gale, then snuggled into Karlach’s side and took a bite of the potato soup. Somehow, Gale made the simple dish taste better than almost anything she’d eaten in the Lower City before her abduction. She sighed happily, content to be among her friends and finally warming up, even in this hellish environment. She was still a little surprised to realise that she was growing to love her motley crew of friends, instead of just liking them. But she wouldn’t have traded any of them for the world.

#bg3 #bg3 fic #gale dekarios #shadowheart #astarion #karlach #wyll ravengard #deviali #friendship #act 2 #slow burn gale x tav #kel writes #shadowheart strikes me as the type of person to always have cold hands #body heat snuggles

37 notes · View notes