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endlessthxxghts · 19 days

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Best I Ever Had

Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k

Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!

A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)

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It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town.

Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason.

He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you.

You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction.

And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it.

You are worth it.

Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.”

And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you.

“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge.

He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?”

“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up.

“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you.

You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of.

“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.

Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you.

The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts.

And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements.

“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter.

“I said—”

He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm.

“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you.

Well, apparently not everyone.

You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.

You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back.

The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips.

Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him.

You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines.

You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him.

The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music back going unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life.

Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.”

He scrambles without looking back.

“Oh my God, baby.”

“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”

“Just one more second, baby.”

“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you.

“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”

“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take.

A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now.

“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom.

Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming.

You can do so much better than that.

“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless.

Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself.

Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking.

“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”

All questions must be answered.

Fuck.

“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you.

You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?”

Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics.

You quirk your eyebrow at him.

“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure.

You’re silent for a beat. Then—

“You’re lying.”

Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries.

Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here.

You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.

“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”

Joel audibly gulps.

Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it.

“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him.

“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to.

You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout.

“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him.

“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you.

Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”

You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming.

You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze.

“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”

“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again.

Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend.

“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”

His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces.

Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest.

“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.

“Did I go too far?”

He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.

“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”

A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”

“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss.

You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks.

Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?”

“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”

I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)

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homunculus-argument · 3 months

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The thing about perfect pitch is that it's a combination of having an inherent knack for it, and having that skill honed with a musical education. Someone who could recognise a specific note by the ear but was never taught notes cannot do it, and someone who simply wasn't born with the potential for it can't learn it no matter how thorough of a musical education they have.

I think the same thing applies to what I've come to refer to as "a few raisins is five raisins" type of instruction-giving. The ability to instinctively assess how much information and detail somebody wants or needs when they're asking for instructions. People who cannot do this are enraged by the idea that someone thinks they can, btw. How dare somebody arbitrarily decide to withdraw information and take away someone's agency concerning choices that they don't want to make and whose outcome doesn't matter much.

I'd consider that I have a pretty good knack for it, myself. It's been honed by working both with people who refuse to give exact instructions, my own difficulties in asking for sufficiently exact instructions when I've needed them, and working with people with varying preferences towards instruction-exactness.

People who refuse to give clarifications to their instructions and guidelines in things that they are familiar with leave you no other choice than to demonstrate just how wrong their vague answers can be interprated before they're willing to clarify. If you ask someone "how long does this usually roughly take?" and they just go "I cannot answer that, it varies so much from person to person, every single individual case is different" on and on, refusing to give the roughest of rough estimates, all you can do is say "okay so it can take anything between 20 minutes and 20 years." And only then will they say "oh no, it's more like 3-6 years on average", which was the exact answer you wanted in the first place.

It's not really a comprehension thing, but a moral code to them. I don't believe in having ethical principles that serve no other role than inconvenience absolutely everyone including myself, so I have no qualms about giving simplified instructions. If someone who needs exact instructions is trying to follow a recipe that tells them to add "a few raisins" freezes at the vagueness and asks "how much is 'a few' raisins?" they want an exact number.

Someone who isn't comfortable trusting their own assessment of how much is 'a few' won't be helped by being told to follow their heart and make their own choices. They specifically want somebody to just give some sort of a guideline about this. And being the type that's more comfortable just eyeballing things, I can assess that in this context "a few" means roughly half of a small handful of raisins, and quickly estimate that one half of a small handful is roughly 4-6 individual raisins.

And instead of getting needlessly difficult about refusing to say it, I can just say "oh, that's about five raisins", and everyone can carry on with their day.

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celestialwhoree · 1 month

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Just going to leave this here and then sneak away! K bye! 🎀🩰

John Price is a man who runs on instinct. After years in the forces, he has to be. He's learned that the feeling in his gut is almost never wrong, and learning how to trust it is a skill. Right now though? He's wishing that his stomach would stop roiling. He's so anxious he feels like he might actually be sick. Kyle sits earnestly at his side, hunched over in the plastic hospital chair nursing a long gone flat vending machine Coke.

They've been tuning out your screams for a good three hours now.

Something within John breaks with every guttural cry that sounds from under the doorway. He's heard so many countless screams of agony from faceless people. They've been and gone in his head like a passing storm. Yours, he thinks, will stick for a lifetime.

Realistically, he knows that you're safe. Receiving the best care you possibly can, safe within the walls of the modern private hospital his insurance more than covers. He also can't help but remind himself just how complicated giving birth can be - and you're so delicate to him.

He's not actually sure when Kyle got here, having been running on autopilot since your contractions started yesterday. All the boys love you just as much as you do them, and when he'd messaged their shared group with a simple: > On way to hospital now. they'd been so shit scared.

Each one of them had opted to take up shifts staying beside their captain in the hospital, waiting earnestly for if they were at all needed. Johnny had picked up groceries, claiming that he' d best know what to get for a new mum, seeing as he's the only one besides Price who actually has sisters, and a niece of his own. None of them would ever admit that they also wanted to be the first to see little baby Price, and to check in on his wife who'm they'd grown to love so much, but there'd definitely been attempts on all three sides to work out when the baby would approximately pop, so that they could time their stint accordingly.

"Think she's okay in there?" John croaks, lifting his head from his palms, squinting at the fluorescent hall lights with a tired grunt.

Kyle swallows the sip of Coke in his mouth before responding. "She's a trooper. I think if anyone can handle having a baby, it's your missus."

Hours later, your small hospital room falls silent, and John is immediately up on his feet, back ramrod straight, everything alert. And then, a baby cries. It's a little hiccuping whinge at first, but then his baby seems to find their voice, wailing up a storm.

"You should go. See them." Kyle prompts quietly, noticing his captain's reverie as he just stands there staring at the closed door.

Nurses file out one by one, whilst he makes his way in, a dazed sort of look on his face as he sees the swaddles blanket you hold close to your chest, gurgling softly as tiny fat fists reach out to your nose.

The stillness in the room is like time stops entirely, only finally broken by a soft "Hey." as your husband makes his way quietly to your side.

"Hi." You breathe, a soft smile blossoming on your tired face, scooting along in the hospital bed so he can sit beside you.

The reverence on his face as he looks down towards the face of such a small creature is a look only talked about in fairytales. A look that tells you that your baby is the luckiest child in the world to have a dad like John.

"She's a girl." You laugh softly, noticing the look on John's face, the one that says he's holding his tongue.

"Oh, my baby girl." Tears spring to his cerulean eyes as he brushes a gentle finger down the soft slope of her tiny nose.

For a moment, the two - three - of you sit in total stillness, entirely enraptured by the tiny human you currently keep held so closely to your chest. Until there's a quiet, tentative knock on the door.

"Mrs Price? Can we come in?" Kyle's voice comes softly from the other side, but before you can even finish your "Yes" not just Kyle, but also Simon and Johnny are practically barrelling into the room, barely able to contain their intrigue as they lock eyes with the little blanket wrapped parcel they've been waiting nine months to meet.

The minute you invite them to look at the sleeping face of your daughter, they're practically tripping over themselves to see the much anticipated baby Price.

"Looks jus' like her mam." Johnny observes, whilst Simon just stares, and Kyle busies himself with taking a picture of you, John and your baby girl.

"Bought 'er a present, mrs Price." Simon admits a little sheepishly as he pulls a haphazardly wrapped parcel from his coat pocket. A stuffed ghost teddy only just the size of your fist. "To remind 'er that uncle ghost is always looking out for her."

You're practically crying at the thought behind his gift, carefully side-hugging the lieutenant with the arm that's not holding your daughter.

"We're all here for her. And for you. Always. One for one and that."

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st4rtar0t · 1 month

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Helping your recognise your superpower

I'm currently doing donation based readings to pay for my tuition fees. DM to purchase a reading!

Thank you so much for your time and energy and I hope you have a great day ahead!

Picture 1

Your lust for knowledge is your superpower. And I know you may think that is a lame power to have but I do want to your realise that knowledge is everything. The more knowledgeable you are, the more mature you become. Maturity comes from a sense of understanding and experience. The way you're always ready to learn new things makes you unique. Some of could be an higher achiver, or your sense of self comes from your academic performance. I think it's good to be knowledge but don't bring yourself down when you don't perform well. Give yourself time to learn and revise.

Your another superpower is your ability to look at situations from different perspectives. You know sometimes our pain clouds our vision making it difficult to acknowledge the hurt of others. But not for you, no matter how bad your situation is, you wouldn't let your emotions cloud your judgement Which is an remarkable ability.

Your faith, whether in yourself, in others or in something greater than us all, gives you strength and resilience in times of difficulty. Your belief in humanity, your trust in kindness and your faith in the possibility of a better future awaiting us uplifts not only you but also the people around you.

Picture 2

Your planning is your superpower. It's like having a secret weapon in life. When you plan, you're like a master strategist, able to foresee obstacles and navigate around them. You can set goals and figure out the steps to reach them. Planning helps you stay organized, focused, and prepared for whatever comes your way. It's not just about making lists; it's about taking control of your future and making things happen. So, embrace your planning abilities, because they can truly make you unstoppable. Some of you could be INTJ/ENTJ.

Your another superpower is your protectiveness. It's your ability to shield and guard the ones you care about, keeping them safe from harm. Just like a superhero, you have an instinct to watch over others, anticipating dangers and swooping in to shield them from harm. Your protective nature is a strength that shines brightly, offering comfort and security to those around you. Embrace this superpower, for it is a reflection of your love and dedication to keeping your loved ones out of harm's way. you may think that this makes you more feminine but caring for the people that you makes you stronger. Your constant transformation is your superpower because it means you're always evolving, learning, and adapting. Instead of being stuck in one way of thinking or doing things, you embrace change and use it to your advantage. You're like a chameleon, able to adjust to any situation or challenge that comes your way. This flexibility allows you to grow stronger, wiser, and more resilient with each transformation. So, don't fear change, embrace it, because it's what makes you unstoppable.

Picture 3

Your love for others is your superpower because it has the ability to transform lives in ways beyond imagination. When you extend kindness, understanding, and support to those around you, you create an atmosphere of warmth and positivity. Your love has the power to heal wounds, mend broken hearts, and inspire greatness in others. It's a force that spreads joy, brings people together, and fosters deep connections. Through your love, you become a beacon of hope and strength, capable of uplifting the spirits of those who may be struggling.

Your powerful presence is like a superpower. It's all about how you carry yourself and how you make others feel when you're around. You don't need special abilities because you are your own strength. People notice you without you having to do anything flashy. Your confidence and the way you connect with others make you stand out. Your presence is like a magnet, attracting attention and admiration wherever you go. It's what makes you truly remarkable.

Your voice and the words you choose have immense power. When you speak, it's like magic weaving through the air, touching hearts and minds. The tone, pitch, and rhythm of your voice can convey emotions and messages in ways that no other form of communication can. And the words you select? They're like arrows hitting their target, shaping thoughts, inspiring actions, and building connections. Whether you're calming a storm with soothing words or igniting a fire with passionate speech.

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edenmemes · 7 months

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baldur's gate 3 starters (part 1)

part 1 / ? .

❝ a less trusting person might think this all sounds very suspicious. ❞ ❝ you say all the right words, but i’m not sure you mean the right things. ❞ ❝ i know somewhere quiet. somewhere intimate. somewhere we can…indulge in each other. ❞ ❝ eugh, don’t be nice to me. it makes me want to be nice back. ❞ ❝ we needn’t be enemies. there’s plenty of those to go around already. ❞ ❝ there’s a steeliness to you, an unwavering tenacity in the face of, to be frank, quite dire odds. ❞ ❝ even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will. ❞ ❝ i appreciate anyone that opens a conversation with threats of bodily harm. ❞ ❝ oh, you know me - ever the optimist. i’m trying to focus on the positives. ❞ ❝ i’m not easily impressed by people, but you’re stronger than i gave you credit for. ❞ ❝ there’s an air about you. something alien. ❞ ❝ loosen the grip on your pride for one blasted moment, won’t you? ❞ ❝ it’s been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that. ❞ ❝ there’s something odd about this village. people skulk around like they’ve something to hide. ❞ ❝ you know, if you want to spend time with me, you only have to say so. ❞ ❝ i want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. what you see. ❞ ❝ what’s better than a devil you don’t know? a devil you do. ❞ ❝ you must know that you’re…that you’re very special to me. ❞ ❝ the gods are nothing if not vindictive in their vengeance. ❞ ❝ stay with me a while, will you? day will come all too soon. ❞ ❝ here’s my little treat with their cheeks all flushed. ❞ ❝ i am terrified. i will not claim otherwise. ❞ ❝ my apologies. i’m not quite myself yet. i had the strangest dream last night. ❞ ❝ we didn’t die today. tomorrow, perhaps. but not today. ❞ ❝ leader’s need to make tough decisions. we do what we must. ❞ ❝ i think that unknowable powers come with unknowable consequences. ❞ ❝ i’ve had a lifetime’s fill of watching little men puff themselves up with grand titles. ❞ ❝ in these times, all we can trust are the blades in our hands. ❞ ❝ it’s not easy to turn away from one you once loved. ❞ ❝ much has been promised to you, hasn’t it? but what has been taken from you? ❞ ❝ damn it all. i can do nothing right - not a damn thing. ❞ ❝ every instinct i have tells me that nothing’s changed. that i’m still just a means to an end. ❞ ❝ do not speak of a story you only know the half of. ❞ ❝ i dreamt every night that you’d come back to me. that somehow it was all a nightmare dawn would undo. ❞ ❝ when the time comes to strike, you must take it. for there may be only one chance. ❞ ❝ your eyes. there is pain, endless and deep. but also devotion - blazing like the sun. ❞ ❝ you’re adorable even when you’re teasing me. ❞ ❝ i don’t need your help, and i don’t need your pity. ❞ ❝ i’m more than what i was. and i’m not afraid of anything any more. ❞ ❝ i said exactly what i meant: i love you. you should never, never doubt that. ❞ ❝ this is all like some sort of terrible dream. but it’s real, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ there is no redemption. can’t you see? it is too late. ❞ ❝ i don’t know that it was brave. i just know that it was right. ❞ ❝ you took those bastards down like it was nothing. it…was amazing. ❞ ❝ they underestimated me. so they paid the price. ❞ ❝ we fight, we die, and we just hope that when our time comes, there is someone else to take our place. ❞ ❝ unfortunately for me, you’re my friend. rescuing you from mortal peril is my right. ❞ ❝ what did you think i was going to say? 'oh, come here, i'll kiss you better'? ❞ ❝ flowers are so overrated. they're bright, gaudy, and almost never make good poisons. ❞ ❝ i’ve been lied to, my whole life. and i was gullible enough to just believe it. ❞ ❝ you know, i never pictured myself as a hero. never thought i'd be the one they toast for saving so many lives. and now that i'm here…i hate it. ❞ ❝ you know, i feel a connection between us. like we're two souls walking the same path. ❞ ❝ the forgiving sort, are you? you should be careful. plenty would take advantage of that. ❞

❝ it’s as if god made you just to ruin me. ❞ ❝ perish the thought. every word i said was nothing less than true. ❞ ❝ you have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. i like it. ❞ ❝ i got my eye on you. you got the look of a troublemaker. ❞ ❝ i’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel. ❞ ❝ it seems you know me better than i know myself. ❞ ❝ you…you have no idea what you’ve done. ❞ ❝ they say madness and genius are separated by but a hair’s breadth. perhaps the same is true of madness and stupidity. ❞ ❝ oh, it’s you. don’t you get tired of telling people how to live their lives? ❞ ❝ good morning! thank you for not killing me the other night. ❞ ❝ when the time comes to strike, you must take it. for there may be only one chance. ❞ ❝ it is good to savour the moment of victory - but pace bg3 syourself. our fight is just beginning. ❞ ❝ i was too hasty to judge you. i thought you were witless, gutless, unimpressivably bland… ❞ ❝ yours is the first happy face i’ve seen in a good while. ❞ ❝ when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair – that’s when you’ll come knocking on my door. ❞ ❝ thank you, my friend. maybe we’ll meet again, in another life. ❞ ❝ you’ll regret sticking your nose in my business. ❞

#roleplay meme #rp meme #rp starters #roleplay starters

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beenbaanbuun · 1 month

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hi bunny! <33 i wanted to ask if you could do a little fic of how the ateez boys (specifically jjong) would be like during aftercare ❤️ after a rougher session— i’m in need of comforty cute stuff rn lmao 😭 no pressure ofc! luv u bun bun 🫶

aftercare w/ateez

hongjoong

i feel like hongjoong is very prepared for aftercare, especially if he knows in advance that it’s going to be a rougher session

like he already has a glass of water and a snack bar on the nightstand ready to go

coos and praises you as he breaks the bar into tiny pierces and slides them between your lips with his fingers

will absolutely force you to pee and shower once he thinks you’ve got your energy up enough to walk to the bathroom

stays with you the whole time you pee, and slides into the shower beside you to wash your hair

unlike some of the others i don’t believe that the shower will to anything else because hongjoong has a modicum of self control and can see you naked without going feral…

seonghwa

seonghwa’s first instinct is to go and grab a washcloth from the bathroom so he can wipe down the mess between your legs

of course, while he’s in the bathroom, he kills two birds with one stone and begins to draw a bath for you

wipes down your sticky skin with the warm cloth, all while whispering praises

‘i know you’re sensitive but you’re being such a good girl by letting me clean you! just a little more and it’ll be over, my darling.’

once you’re somewhat clean he guides you to the bathroom and helps you into the bath before going to chance the sheets

comes back the second they’re changed and in the washer so he can sit on the side of the tub and watch you with a pretty smile

yunho

cuddly boy!!

will literally just hold you to his chest and stroke his hand up and down your spine while the two of you return your breathing to normal

isn’t so fussy about the ‘clean’ aspect of it all, but will definitely make you go pee because we do not want any UTI’s in this house!

and once you’re finished peeing, he just ticks you back into his nice strong arms and lets you fall to sleep in his grasp

he trusts you enough to know that you’ll tell him if you need anything else; water, a snack, all that jazz

he also knows you enough to know that is so incredibly rare that you’ll want anything other than him and his warm cuddles

because let’s be real, lying on top of yunho with your head tucked into his neck and his long arms holding you in place is actually the best feeling in the world

yeosang

you know my thoughts on yeosang’s sex style so i also have to assume that he takes his job of aftercare very seriously

it’s half a guilt thing because baby boy went so hard that now he has to take care of you; he needs to know that you’re okay and he didn’t do too much

he starts by wiping you down and you’re guaranteed to be oversensitive, but he just shushes you and tells you how well you’re doing

ideally he’d like you to shower, but you’re too boneless right now and he doesn’t want to leave you for long enough to run a bath

and when he’s all done cleaning you up, he’ll hold a straw to your mouth, watching you as gulp down the water he brought you

i can see him needing his own validation as well so he asks you plenty of questions

did he go to far? did you like it when he did that one thing? were you having as much fun as he was? he really is desperate to know that you were having a good time

san

san is so fucking clingy that from the moment he goes soft, he will not let you out if his sight

he won’t send you to the bathroom yourself with promises of cuddles when you get back; why would he when he can follow you in there to hold your hand while you pee?

and while you’re in the shower you better let this man wash your hair, your body, your face, anything he can, unless you want him to pout

sits you on the toilet seat while he brushes your teeth; it’s cute but you can’t help but feel shy as he holds your jaw and looks down at you

and then when he’s sure you’re squeaky clean and happy, he bundles you up in his arms and drags you back to bed with him

from which there will be no escape, by the way; if you even dream about getting out of bed, san will be pouting and complaining

mingi

i like to think that he puts his mind, body and soul into sex, so he’s probably just as tired as you when it’s over

ideally, he’d just like to stay in bed with you, but he knows you have to replenish yourself, so he sets you little tasks

“can you go get a wash cloth from the bathroom so i can wipe you down?”, “go piss, girl. i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

and you best believe that after every single task you complete, he’s praising you like you’ve just cured world hunger or something

lips pressed against yours, letting you know just how good you are for him and how proud he is of you for doing what he asks

it’s safe to say youre leave your submissive headspace any time soon, not when mingi has you in his grasp, whispering sweet praises in your ear

wooyoung

wooyoung likes to do everything for you and if he even catches you lifting a finger he will become the most annoying person to ever walk this earth

like he’ll be getting you a glass of water and he’ll come back to the bedroom to see you with a tissue between your legs and all he can thing is how dare you?

literally storms over and takes it away from you before continuing the job himself, muttering under his breath as he cleans you up

“you weren’t so independent when you were begging for my dick, hm?” he scowls, “you need me to fuck you properly, so what makes you think you don’t need to help you with this too?”

like honestly, he’s kind of mean with it but with his gentle touch and the tiny kisses that he’s pressing to your thighs, you know he isn’t actually mad

just being his regular wooyoung-ish self…

jongho

oh you think he’s a teddy bear? wrong; during aftercare you’re his teddy bear and there’s nothing you can do about it!

because he’s way too strong for you to escape from the grasp he has on you, no matter how much wriggling you do

it’s fine though, because jongho always keeps. a bottle of water by his bed and a few snacks in his drawer and a pack of baby wipes too

you literally don’t even have to move from his arms for him to take care of you; everything you need is right there!

of course when you tell him you need to use the bathroom he’s pouting, but then you tell him he can come with you and he’s happy again

he doesn’t consider the fact that he can’t squeeze you to death when you’re actually on the loo, so when he realises that he’s pouting again

literally clings to you the moment you stand up, wasting no time in dragging you back to bed for more cuddles

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fic #ateez headcanons #ateez blurbs

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

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König shaving the readers 🐱 while making eye contact....

👄 *bites bottom lip*

I go feral for your writing my dear ❤️‍🔥

"Stop squirming."

Your legs are slightly shaking from the wide spread they are forced into to accomodate a giant between them. The said giant places a large, warm palm on your inner thigh to punctuate his command – and open you up even more.

"Please be careful," you plead as if this wasn't your idea in the first place: to have König shave your pussy with one of his knives.

You were sure he would say no because it's dangerous, but it turns out your shy request was too delicious to refuse. Other men would've probably looked at you like you're a freak and told you to shave it yourself, but König merely tilted his head and told you he would need more than one knife to do it: a big one for larger areas and a few smaller blades to finish.

"Who do you think I am?" He grunts, slightly insulted. You know he's a master when it comes to knives, you would trust this man with your life, but now that he's there, wielding a blade so close to your delicate folds, you're not so sure... What if something slips?

But König is extremely careful, and extremely gentle. This man handles his duties with obsessive dedication, so why would this be any different? And besides, you're not work, you're the love of his life.

He has fallen into some sort of a flow state with what must be two of his favorite things: a sharp, deadly blade and a soft, inviting pussy. You can do nothing but bite your lip as he shaves you with a razor-sharp focus. The knife doesn't hurt you at all: actually, it feels like he's caressing your skin with a feather.

Every once in a while he gives you a glance, probably to see how you're doing. Being on display like this for him is more than enough to make your heart flutter, but it's those dark, heated looks that make you wet.

"There... Endlich fertig." He eventually rises from between your legs and leans back to examine his work with silent approval in his stare. Then he gets a warm, wet towel to wipe you clean, and admires you once more, like your freshly shaved pussy is a work of art.

His work of art.

"Pretty," he concludes, then looks at you with another trademark flash that usually precedes a good wrecking. You squirm again, merely from that horny, promising stare fixed on you from beneath the darkness of his mask. Even your thighs start to drift closed; it's simply a reaction to him being so obsessed with you. You don't even know whether it's born from the instinct to hide your vulnerable parts from a predator or because you know it will drive him crazy when you play a little hard to get.

"Keep them open," he orders, his voice dropping a note or two. You obey immediately; you wouldn't even dream of rejecting him. You only look at him with wide, love-filled eyes as he starts to lift the mask.

You should've known he wants a taste after looking at your throbbing, wet cunt – the one he just called pretty – from up close for solid 15 minutes. You can play hard to get as much as you want, but your pussy always gives you away. It's almost dripping by now, and answers him with another wink as the familiar pair of cruel lips and a brutally scarred jawline are revealed from behind the rising veil of darkness.

And god... He's smiling.

"Have to get my reward, eh?"

#answered #könig x you #könig x female reader

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ladyfogg · 3 months

Text

Perfect Fit

Fic Summary: Since the first time you let him bite you, Astarion knew seducing you would be easy. What he didn’t anticipate were the feelings that came with it.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Drow!Monk Reader

Word Count: 11.7k

Warnings: Biting, Blood Drinking (Vampire and all that), Male Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Oral (Female Receiving), Sex, Grinding, Cuddling

A/N: I’m really glad I took my time with this one because I absolutely love how it came out. Enjoy! I don’t know if I’ll write any other Astarion fics but we’ll see.

---

Just a taste, that is all he needs.

Boars and wildlife will not suffice, not if your little troop of weirdos keeps going at the same grueling pace. Since the moment he had been snatched up and that damn tadpole shoved into his eye it has been one battle after another.

The diet Cazador forced him onto had already weakened him. And Astarion knew that if he did not do something soon, if he couldn’t keep up with the others, you will turn your back on him.

After all, why keep him around if he isn’t useful?

No, he needs to stay in your good graces. More than that, he needs you to trust him, to care for him. It’s the only way he can ensure that when his former master comes knocking, because Astarion is not naïve enough to assume he is completely free, you will be there shielding him, to knock back.

Which you are obviously capable of doing. He’s seen you fight enough times to know you have a quick temper and an even quicker right hook.

You are the defacto leader, the one who always seems to do the talking even though you’re not the most charismatic of the bunch. Yet, when you open your mouth, the others listen, take your word as law even when they don’t agree.

Astarion finds himself falling in line along with them. Then again, he has two hundred years of conditioning to contend with. He wonders what excuse the others have.

Regardless, the plan remains the same. Seduce you, get you on his side, save his spectacular, frankly tight, ass. Simple. He’s played this part more times than he can count and can do it in his trance.

Of course, none of that matters if he starves to death. The gnawing hunger deep in his belly is distracting and has been for days. He’s used to ignoring it, even in the thick of combat. But he can’t, not tonight.

Tonight, it’s bad enough to get in the way of hunting. He can’t keep up with a lame doe he stumbles across. It bolts before he is even close enough to lunge. Not good. He returns to his tent frustrated and desperate.

Red eyes scan the still camp, predatory and sharp. He told you all he would keep watch because he needed time and space to think, which is partially true. However, that was when he hoped to catch dinner.

How in the Hells can he bloody think when he’s starving?

There’s a rustling near the fire, immediately drawing his attention. His gaze falls on you while you shift, your back to him as your body rolls towards the warmth of the campfire. A breeze glides through their encampment, bringing your tantalizing scent towards him, beckoning, teasing.

Astarion takes a deep inhale, eyes closed as he unwittingly gives into his instincts. Hunting pushes them away. But with no wildlife to sate him, his feet move on their own, dragging him closer to your prone body. When he opens his eyes, his vision blocks out everything that isn’t you.

The hunger is all that matters and right now, the hunter has finally found his prey.

His steps make no noise as practice and skill take over. He’s close enough to see the subtle rise and fall of your breath, the dim firelight framing you with its eerie glow, leading him like a beacon in the never-ending dark.

Astarion takes a knee, arms out for balance and eyes closed as he moves purely on instinct. He opens his mouth, fangs dripping with saliva at the promise of a meal, a real meal…

A second later he feels you move and his eyes snap open, only to find yours staring up at him. Cold realization slams into him like a heavy maul, making him blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Shit.”

Immediately, he backs away as you quickly rise to your feet, eyes narrowed in distrust. You don’t even have a chance to speak before he launches into an explanation, trying to keep his voice hushed to avoid waking the others.

“No, no, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” he insists. “I wasn’t going to hurt you I…” He pauses, taking a breath to ground himself. The bloodlust isn’t satiated, not by a long shot but it is tempered by a furious-looking monk. “I just needed…well…blood.”

It sounds lame even to his own ears. Not his best work but, then again, he isn’t at his best.

You swear, burying your face in your hands. “Fucking unbelievable!” you exclaim in a harsh whisper. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it! We even found the boar you snacked on. And you were so quick to brush it away.”

“It’s not what you think!”

Astarion’s voice goes up and you motion for him to be quiet. A quick glance confirms the others are still fast asleep.

The next thing he knows, you’re grabbing his sleeve and tugging him away from the fire, away from the others, which is not at all what he's anticipating. He doesn’t even have a chance to register you’re touching until your hand is already gone, leaving a phantom of its warmth.

“I’m not some monster,” he persuades. “I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds, whatever I can get. I’m…I’m just too slow right now. Too weak.” He pauses, the hunger taking hold once more. “If I just had a little blood, I could fight better. Please.”

There’s a sharp pain between his eyes, the familiar trigger of the tadpole lodged in his brain. He recognizes the sensation, knows it’s you reaching out, asking, and after a moment of hesitation, he lets you in.

Unlike your companions, you’ve embraced the new connection, used it to convince others to move out of your way or do as you say. Not within the group of course. He suspects you’re too noble for that.

Astarion hasn’t had much time to practice himself. No time like the present. He needs you to see, needs you to understand that what he says is true.

The trust he is trying to build is at stake, no pun intended. You need to see that this is an anomaly, an unfortunate side effect of the intense fighting you both had to endure the last few days.

So Astarion shows you, lets you see fleeting images of what he’s hunted in the woods. But this is all still new. He does not know how it works, does not anticipate the flood of other memories, personal ones he isn’t ready to share.

A dark street, a willing mark, a soft supple body for Cazador’s dark needs. They flicker one after another, a blur of faceless victims he’s lost count of. Yet, none of them with his fangs at their throat or their blood on his lips. It becomes too much too fast.

He gathers his strength and throws up those mental blocks, the ones he’s had for decades yet seem to be crumbling in an instant. With a mental shove, he pushes you out.

While Astarion's body reels from the onslaught, you remain stoic, arms crossed as you stare at him with that intense gaze of yours. The only indication anything is amiss is a head tilt.

How? How are you already so used to these damn tadpoles? You don’t even blink, and with the shadows of the night wrapped around the both of you, he can’t read your expression even with Darkvision. But he can assume and right now, he’s sure he’s fucked up. All he needed was you to trust him and because of this insistent hunger, he’s failed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

This is not the question he expects and he blinks, taken aback. You don’t sound angry, hells it would be easier if you were. Anger he’s used to, can handle with poise. But Astarion thinks he can work with this, whatever it is.

Because it’s not pity, it’s not empathy, it’s something he does not have a name for.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no, more likely you’ll run a stake through my ribs,” he explains. “No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

Of course you can’t. Anyone who ever put their trust in him came to bloody ends. Yet, he’s seen you drop a gnoll with nothing but your fists and an insane high kick, so he feels you may be sturdier than most.

You study him closely, and Astarion does everything to appear docile and properly chastised, hunching his body to make himself smaller. There’s a beat where neither of you blink or speak. However, he catches the subtle slump of your shoulders and a sigh escapes your lips.

“I believe you,” you say. “And I do trust you.”

Astarion slowly exhales his own sigh, this one of relief. “Thank you,” he says.

Then, because he can’t help himself, because his empty stomach twists, because you’re still close enough for him to inhale your scent, he pushes his luck.

“Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” he asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice as he bats his eyelashes at you. “I only need a taste, I swear.”

He fully expects your refusal and wouldn’t blame you in the slightest. As much as this hunger is driving him to madness, he is fully prepared to slink away with his tail tucked between his legs if it means he lives to seduce you another day.

Yet the next words out of your mouth throw him off his game.

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need.”

There’s no hiding the surprise on his face. He knows you see it yet you don’t gloat or react, only smile.

“Really? I—” He clears his throat and recovers, swagger in place as comfortable as a well-worn mask molded just for him. “Of course, not one drop more. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

He motions towards your bedroll with a bow. As you brush past and turn towards the fire, your smirk is wider, as if you can tell how much excitement is building within him. Then again, with the tadpole and your uncanny ability to read people, you probably do.

The others are still silent and sleeping as you lay back on your bedroll. Astarion’s chest heaves and he licks his lips as the prospect of blood, humanoid blood, becomes all he can focus on. He’s salivating again, red eyes drawn to the smooth expanse of your neck.

At first, all he can hear is the crackling of the fire. But when he leans in, the steady beating of your heart breaks through the noises of the night. Bloody Hells, he can hear the blood rushing through your veins. It hypnotizes him, draws him forward as you roll your head to the side.

White fangs pierce dark skin, sliding clean through to find a thick, pulsing vein. Underneath the rush, he almost misses the soft gasp push past your lips.

Almost.

But he doesn’t have time to process it because the first drops of blood touch his tongue and nothing else matters. Not mind flayers, not tadpoles, not Cazador, nothing but the sweet, red liquid that is sliding down his throat carrying your scent.

Everything else before pales in comparison.

There’s no fear. When he hunts he can taste the deep fear of his prey in their final moments. But this is different. You are different.

It’s such an onslaught of emotions he can’t process them right away. It’s secondhand, like trying to grab a rapidly fading echo in a dark cave.

Astarion doesn’t anticipate it and can’t recognize half of them at first. Sensation is what he does recognize. Pain is immediate, followed by warmth leading into heat in his cheeks and stomach. So much heat. He’s been cold for two hundred years, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have body heat, to be hot.

His body naturally curls around yours, one hand sliding under your head to cradle it close. The fingers of his other hand dig into the packed soil, gripping for something solid yet finding nothing.

Your body arches into his, breasts pressed to his chest and for the briefest moment, he imagines how better this would be if he could feel your bare skin to his.

Then another splatter of blood hits the back of his throat as your heart rate increases and the thought is lost.

Instinct wins out once more and Astarion groans, sucking at the wound with renewed fervor. This is better than he could have imagined. You’re better. All robust and tantalizingly smooth, finer than the finest wine he’s ever sampled. He licks at your skin, gathering as much of the precious liquid as he can. He knows it’s supposed to be a taste, but he needs more. Wants more…

A hand on his shoulder draws him out of his stupor and a firm shove has him breaking free with an orgasmic gasp. Life now drums through his veins, yours and his comingling into a surge of energy that has his dead heart thrumming harder than he ever remembers.

“Enough,” you say, your voice gruff and small, though still commanding. He thinks for a moment you might have actually cast Command on him, until his addled brain remembers you don’t use magic.

Astarion pulls himself together, comes back into his body in a way that’s far more pleasant than it has been in the past. He’s sure he’s made a mess but when he looks down, all he sees are two small puncture wounds with the barest hint of blood. Small specks of his spit glint in the firelight.

He resists the urge to kiss them away, instead stumbling back onto his haunches to give you space.

You slowly sit up and he catches you wincing. It’s the brief flash of pain that helps him reign himself further in. You said you trusted him, let him drink from you, he will not, could not, betray that trust, the gift you’ve given him.

“Of course,” he says, voice breathless as he tries to remember how to speak. “That was amazing.” He smiles wide, feels a droplet of blood slip away from the corner of his lips as he does. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong, I feel…” The faintest hint of emotions still lingers. “…happy.”

You both sit quietly for a moment, air thick with tension and a hint of copper. Your scent is even stronger now and Astarion thinks he could track you from miles away if need be.

“I look forward to seeing you fight.”

Right, the whole reason you did this. To help him be stronger, useful. It’s those thoughts that ground him once more, snap his head out of the clouds and onto the hard forest floor.

Astarion stands while you remain right where you are, watching every move he makes. He wonders if you are waiting for him to pounce, waiting for the monster he assured you does not exist. When he speaks again, it’s the light, easy tone he’s perfected, like sliding the mask back into place.

“Shouldn’t take long so many people need killing,” he says, flippantly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating but I need something more filling.”

Nothing will escape him now. He swears he can take down a bear should he be lucky enough to find one.

He turns to leave, yet something stops him from taking the next step. When he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, the mask slips and he allows you to see the genuine gratitude he feels.

“This is a gift, you know,” he tells you. “I won't forget it.”

Not staying for a response, he turns away and stalks toward the darkness of the waiting forest. When he’s sure you can’t see him, he swipes that drop off his chin with his thumb, sucking it into his mouth to enjoy the final taste of your essence.

He is content for this to be a one-time thing, a special circumstance he is lucky enough to experience. And though he already longs for more, he enjoys the heat while he can, letting it carry him through the night as he hunts his next prey.

So imagine his surprise when you approach his tent only two days later, wounds barely visible under your collar. Astarion is readying his weapons, preparing for yet another trek through the wilds.

You’re in your vestiges, your arms free say for the thin bracers protecting your wrists. Your stance is sure and confident, eyes alight with something he hasn’t seen in them yet.

“We’re ready to head out,” you say. “Got everything?”

“Prepared and ready for the inevitable descent into violence.”

“How are you feeling?”

For anyone else the question wouldn’t be so loaded. He gathers you’re probably wondering if he’s going to try to steal another bite at some point.

“Fit as a fiddle. Your donation was much appreciated and helpful,” he says, sliding his daggers into their scabbards. “The effects are mostly worn off but such is life. I’m not weak if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not. But, if you need to, you can feed on me tonight.”

Astarion can barely contain himself, thrilled at the prospect of another surge of power, and that his seduction skills are working, though not entirely as he expected. Still, it’s an opportunity he will not squander.

“My sweet, there’s nothing I’d like more,” he purrs, stepping in close. He catches the darkening of your cheeks and lets himself smile in triumph. “I’ll come to you tonight, when you’re snuggly wrapped in your bedroll and we can have a little privacy. And this time,” he drops his voice for added effect, “I’ll make sure I’m quiet. We don’t want to disturb your rest.”

It's not lost on him that the night after his first taste you took to sleeping in a tent rather than under the stars. The added privacy had him wondering about its purpose.

Now he knows.

Taking another step closer, he drops his voice even lower, keeping the moment between you two. “Later on, when we are at rest, I will eat you right up,” he promises. “Just enough to give me strength and just enough to leave you wishing for more.”

Your breath catches in your throat and he knows right then that he has you. Even as you smirk and roll your eyes, his pleased smile never falters.

“Great line,” you say, walking backward towards Karlach and Shadowheart, who are waiting for the two of you. “Has that ever worked for you?”

“Numerous times. And trust me, you haven’t heard half my lines.”

“Is that what you do in front of the mirror now that you can’t fawn over yourself?”

“Hurtful!” he gasps in mock outrage. “Also, need I remind you, you came to me just now.”

“And you came to me the other night.”

“Fair point,” he begrudgingly admits, slinging his bow onto his back. “Although, I did ask for just a taste. If you’re wanting another nibble, that says more about you than it does about me. I’m a vampire spawn. What’s your excuse?”

By you’ve turned your back on him and though he can’t see your face, the middle finger you aim his way lets him know he’s won the argument.

The anticipation of his next feeding carries him through the day.

It’s ever-present in the back of his mind, fueling his hunger and drive. He fights harder because he knows that come nightfall, he won’t have to hunt for his meal. You’ll be there in your bedroll, ready and willing.

Astarion can’t suppress the shudder of longing every time he thinks about it.

Waiting never felt so long.

You’re moving closer to the goblin camp with every step, picking off stragglers as you find them. Shadowheart asks the corpses for information and you’re able to narrow down the location of the druid right down to which building he's in.

When you make camp, you’re only half a day’s travel to your destination. Everyone is exhausted and moody, with little talk this time over the campfire. It doesn’t bother Astarion, who felt you all were becoming far too chummy for his liking.

He waits and watches from his tent, taking note as one by one, the others peel off to their respective spaces. You’re one of the last, your eyes straying across the camp in his direction, meeting the gaze that has been transfixed on you the entire time.

As if to tease, your scent finds your way to him on the wind, making his head spin. He gives you a wink and a smirk. You smile back and quirk an eyebrow before disappearing into your tent like the others.

Astarion bides his time, waits until everyone stops rustling and the collective silence of sleep washes over the camp.

Wyll is on watch tonight, though his back is to your tent. Astarion keeps to the shadows and easily dodges him, making no sound as he slips past.

You’re fast asleep, buried in your bedroll with a blanket loosely draped over you.

Astarion feels that familiar tug low in his belly, lets his feet guide him closer. He doesn’t need the fire to see you there, peaceful, almost angelic. You changed into a looser tunic which has slid down to reveal a shoulder.

And the faded markings he left on your throat the other night.

Astarion kneels and then crawls up behind you, slow and careful. He said he wouldn’t disturb your rest and he meant it. No need to wake you when you’ve given your consent.

Besides, as sneaky as he is, Astarion wonders if you’re that light of a sleeper, considering how easily you awoke the last time. He lays behind you, gently peeling the blanket away. Your tunic slips lower when he does and at this angle, he catches just the faintest glimpse of the top of a breast.

It makes him pause, give an appreciative glance, before your neck beckons him.

The hunger urges him forward, begging, pleading with him to drink. You’re so close and warm and vulnerable. He does his best to lean over without touching you, but you automatically tense in your sleep when you feel the coolness of his body draw near.

Leaning down, he lets his lips brush your ear as he whispers, “It’s just me, darling. Go back to sleep.”

You hum and relax once more, dropping your shoulder in the process. The angle is too good and he is too famished to wait any longer.

Astarion bites down, his fangs lining up exactly where they pierced before. His mouth fits against your throat like it was made for him.

A perfect fit.

There’s no need to rush and he is able to savor the experience. This time, a sense of calm washes over him, making his eyes droop closed as the now-familiar yet no less exquisite rush of your blood fills his mouth. Deep down there’s a sense of injustice for being denied this experience for so long.

However, he wonders if it would have been the same without the anticipation and thrill of the chase. Without you in the equation. After all, you’re a powerful person, unyielding in your convictions.

Yet, here you are, offering your blood to him. Giving him power.

He keeps his fangs buried for a moment longer, holds himself there until his mouth is brimming with the taste of you.

Only then does he retract them, sucking softly on the reopened wound to drink his fill. You’re fast asleep, which means that he has to stop himself this time. You’re not aware enough to do it for him.

When he wanted to earn your trust, he did not think you would give it to him so freely. What else will you give him? What else can he get away with? Questions for another night.

Thankfully, he can force himself to stop once that welcoming heat spreads through every part of him.

Every part.

Fucking Hells he is hard as a rock.

It catches Astarion by surprise and he immediately draws away. He finds himself panting, his lips still coated in red as he glances down at himself.

Is it the act of drinking blood or the blood itself? Feeding on animals certainly never drew this reaction.

His head is spinning from bloodlust and arousal, and he feels the need to leave your tent as soon as possible. You signed up to be his meal, not to get him off.

Not yet anyway. Shame, if you were awake he could make his move. He briefly considers rousing you with honeyed words and lustful promises but he decides against it in the end.

Maybe next time.

As he cleans up the mess he’s left on your throat, licking away the remaining drops of blood, he can’t help palming himself at the same time. He’s barely able to contain a hiss at the sensitivity.

Fuck, if this is just from feeding on you, what’s going to happen when he gets to have you another way?

Astarion reluctantly withdraws, readjusting your tunic before draping your blanket back in place. Your breathing never hitches and remains steady, even when he slips out into the night.

With fresh blood pumping through his veins, his body is strong and alive. He feels so fucking alive. He barely takes a few steps before the hardness in his trousers proves too distracting, forcing him to rest against a tree.

If he turns his head, he can still see your tent through the bushes and trees. It surprises him that he wants to go back. Then again, you are the most interesting prospect around and a part of you is within him now.

Soon, a part of him will be in you, he promises himself.

Astarion unties the laces of his trousers and pulls his cock out, finally allowing the hiss he held back earlier. It throbs persistently, begging for him to do something, anything for release. He gives himself an experimental squeeze, wondering if he has the mind for this right now. But it’s too good and he’s too worked up to deny himself.

His eyes never leave your tent as he strokes his cock. Slow at first, but that quickly proves not enough and he speeds up.

Astarion has had too many lovers to count but it has been some time since he’s had to take matters into his own hands. And yes, he plans on seducing you and may even find you attractive, but this is not in the plan.

It certainly didn’t happen the other night.

Moving purely on urges, Astarion lets his head fall back against the tree trunk, and his eyes close, picturing himself back in your tent.

If only you’d been awake, he could have pressed against you, let you feel the length of him as he drank his fill.

Would you grind back? Would you gasp? He’s more than sure that he can get you to do both. When he finally gets you where he wants you, when he finally has you writhing and moaning his name, he's not going to let you cum until you beg for it, beg for him to fill you as he drinks from that delicious throat.

With a strangled moan, he cums onto the forest floor, his knees buckling under the sudden onslaught of sensation.

Putting his full weight against the tree for support, he takes a moment to catch his breath mind, and senses hyper-aware of every rustle of leaves and gust of wind. With his lust now stated, there is an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt.

What the Hells is with all this wanting and desire? He is not allowed to want. Seducing you isn’t about desire. Neither of those emotions should be there and yet they are.

Let’s just push those way back where they belong, he thinks as he tucks himself back into his trousers.

His head is clearer now, his focus as sharp as it was the previous night. Brushing the incident off, Astarion switches into hunting mode, his grin wide enough to verge on the side of madness as he bolts into the forest, with nothing but the thought of his next kill.

Your offer of blood becomes a regular occurrence.

Not every day but often enough for Astarion to notice a significant change in himself, his power. He is faster and stronger than he has ever been. There is still the situation of becoming immensely horny when he does feed on you, but he looks on the bright side and accepts it as an unexpected bonus.

On days when your party runs into a fight, he finds himself drained but not enough to impede his hunting.

A fact he brags about one night when he stumbles back to camp, brimming with excitement and pride.

“Guess what I just did!” he exclaims, plopping beside you on the ground by the fire that seems to have your attention.

It’s your night to keep watch which means he is out of luck for his midnight snack, as he’s taken to calling you. Much to your chagrin.

You chuckle and motion towards his mouth. “Judging by the blood I’m assuming you caught a nice dinner,” you say.

Astarion impatiently wipes it away. “Not just dinner, a bear! A whole bear!”

“Gods, you drank a whole bear?”

He nods proudly, grin wide and sloppy. “Now, it wasn’t as good a vintage as Drow,” he concedes with a wink your way. “But that’s not the point. The point is, I was able to kill it all by my lonesome and nary a curl out of place.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Kind of,” he slurs.

In truth, he is euphoric, untouchable. Between proper feedings and the tadpole, Astarion feels he is the strongest vampire spawn there may have ever been. Tonight, like the first night he bit you, there is no Cazador, mind flayer, or other threat. There’s only him and the blood of the black bear that he’s taken for himself.

And you, of course.

You smile in amusement, turning your attention to the fire.

Astarion leans back on his elbows, his body wonderfully loose and relaxed for the first time in decades. He takes the time to study your profile, his delirious mind focusing for the moment. He is acutely aware that it is only the two of you, a rarity considering the size of the camp.

Between the adrenaline of the hunt and the opportunity that comes with privacy, Astarion shifts closer, not enough to touch but enough for you to know he’s done so.

“You know, darling,” he drawls. “I don’t think I’ve told you how devastatingly beautiful you look by firelight.”

You don’t respond and at first, he wonders if you heard him. When it becomes apparent you haven’t, he clears his throat and tries again.

“The way the flames reflect in your eyes is hypnotizing,” he continues. “I can get lost in them, have been lost in them ever since we met.”

Still nothing. Astarion feels you’re miles away, which his pride will not stand for, not when he feels as good as he does and is throwing you all the signals.

He sits up and waves a hand in front of your face. “Helllooo? Devilishly handsome roguish vampire here giving you compliments. The least you can do is acknowledge me.”

You blink and tear your eyes away from the flames, giving him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ignore you. I’m not very good company tonight, I’m afraid.”

Astarion shrugs and sits up, interest piqued. “That’s alright, darling. We don’t need to talk. There are plenty of other ways we can enjoy each other’s company.”

You roll your eyes as you look back at the fire with that amused smile you seem to reserve only for him. “Hey, if I could turn my brain off for the night, I’d take you up on that,” you admit.

Finally feeling like he’s getting somewhere, Astarion leans in closer. “You’re in luck because I happen to be a delectable distraction. All you have to do is say the word.” He pauses before adding. “I’m talking about sex of course. We should have sex.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what you meant.”

Astarion grins, reaching out to walk his fingers up your forearm, playfully tugging at the sleeve of your tunic. “So what are we waiting for?” he purrs. “A midnight snack is all well and good, but I wouldn’t mind sampling what else you have to offer.”

As full as he is, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in another nibble. There’s something special about your blood, enticing. When he’s this close to you it becomes all he can think about and he has to stop himself from nuzzling your throat. At least until he knows he has you.

“I want to,” you tell him, finally meeting his gaze. “I really really want to.”

“Then what’s the problem? I am ready, willing, and certainly able.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.”

Astarion frowns, confused. This has always worked before, there’s no reason for it not to work now. He doesn’t get it. You’re clearly attracted to him and he’s doing everything but presenting himself on a silver platter. By now you should be throwing yourself at his feet.

And there’s no way he’s lost his touch because that would be like saying the sky is no longer blue.

You take a deep breath and when you start to speak again, it comes out in a rush, like you’ve been holding the words in for far too long and can’t any longer.

“There is so much at stake and so many people are depending on us, on me. It’s all I think about. I can’t focus on anything else. For days it’s been one crisis after another. On top of that, everyone keeps saying that we need to get rid of the tadpoles and that we should have turned already. We rescued Halsin but he can’t do what we hoped he would and I’m just…”

You let out a noise of frustration and Astarion is back to grinning because this he can work with. This he understands.

“Aren’t monks taught to still their minds?” he teases.

“I didn’t become a monk to still my mind. I became a monk because I like punching things. It’s honestly my favorite thing to do.” You take a deep breath before falling onto your back to stare up at the stars. “But now everyone keeps looking to me for answers and I just don’t have them. Nor do I want to be the one to figure all this shit out.”

Perfect, a new angle.

Astarion leans over you, forcing you to look him in the eye. “It’s just as I feared. You need me more than I thought.” He bends his head, delighted when you instinctively present your neck. He places the gentlest of kisses to bite mark, nuzzling into your soft skin like he’s been wanting to do since he sat down. “If you need your mind on something else, let it be me. Let me touch you, taste you. Let me bring you to such unbearable peaks that you forget everything that isn’t my mouth, fingers, or cock.”

You moan softly, shuddering at the warmth of his breath. “I don’t know if you can.”

Astarion draws back, a wide smile showing off his sharp canines. “Trust me, darling, I can.” He slides a hand up to cradle your head just like he did the first night he bit you. But it’s kisses he lavishes your throat with, with the occasional scrape of his teeth.

A gentle hand on his shoulder has him pulling away.

“You seem pretty confident about that,” you say, eyes searching his.

“Because it’s true.”

He knows what you’re searching for and does everything he can to make sure his gaze speaks for him. Lust and desire, mixed with a touch of hopefulness. Disarming and endearing, exactly who he needs to be for you.

“Here is what we’re going to do,” he continues, putting all his weight on one hand so he can use the other to take yours. “Tomorrow night, once everyone is asleep, I’ll slip into your tent, and I will make it so that pretty little head of yours can focus on something else. Something much more pleasurable.”

He punctuates each word with a kiss, first to your fingers, then your bruised knuckles, and finally to your inner wrist where he can feel your pulse racing. The sound of your rushing blood makes his own body thrum with desire. His hunger returns, but not enough to distract him.

But enough to make him twitch with anticipation.

At this angle, he knows you can feel it when his cock hardens. Your eyes widen and you bite your lip to stifle another moan when he teasingly grinds down against you.

“I…” You try to speak but need to take a second to catch your breath. “I would like that very much.”

“Good.”

Astarion leans down and captures your lips in a harsh kiss. It’s meant to be quick, a tease, a way to continue the seduction and leave you wanting more but it immediately becomes something else. You match his energy perfectly, your tongue slipping past his to explore. He isn’t expecting such a hungry response after the way you seemed so controlled, fully expecting it to take time for him to get you to this level.

Apparently, you’re closer to the edge than he thought. But it’s more than that. Kissing you makes him feel…something. He just doesn’t know what in the Hells that is. It makes it difficult to pull away, to stop, and make you wait.

So he indulges, deepens the kiss by leisurely licking the inside of your mouth once you actually let him. It’s good, really good. Enough to lose himself for the moment, to cup your cheek and hold you close.

His head is spinning and in his excitement, one of his fangs nicks your bottom lip.

A drop of your blood is enough to snap him out of it. Because if he doesn’t, he’s going to ruin everything. He’ll either fuck or drain you and right now he’s not sure which.

Astarion abruptly breaks the kiss, not before his tongue at your lip to steal another drop. “Until tomorrow night,” he promises.

He leaves you there, dazed and staring after him as he casually strolls back to his tent. Leaving you wanting more, just like he planned.

And definitely not because of any other reason.

Needless to say, trancing doesn’t come easy that night. Every time he closes his eyes, all he envisions is you in the firelight, looking up at him like he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Granted, he knows he is, but that’s beside the point.

If he’s honest with himself, there may be a small, tiny part of him that feels bad for deceiving you this way. Granted, he is attracted to you and the idea of having sex sounds incredibly appealing.

So what if there is another motive? You both will come out on top in the end, metaphorically speaking. Although, the mental image of you riding him is quite good. Body rocking, breasts bouncing, wet heat enveloping his lap…

Astarion needs a distraction himself at this rate.

The next day he maintains his distance for both your sakes. For one thing, he knows being apart from your object of desire only makes the chase that more thrilling. And for another, he is dealing with a storm of emotions he is not prepared for nor interested in.

On occasion when he can’t help but slide his gaze your way, you seem thoroughly focused every time. He doesn’t catch you looking longingly his way, not even once, and finds it frankly insulting. How can you be so engrossed in what you’re doing even though you know he will be in your bed later?

Unacceptable.

When you both find yourselves set upon by cultists, Astarion is relieved. He needs a good bloodbath to pull his shit together.

His daggers get quite the workout, slicing enemies left and right.

Lost in the thrill of the kill, he forgets about the weird feelings and the way his seduction of you seems to be more complicated than he thought it would be. He forgets about his hesitations or questions.

Nothing is weird and nothing is wrong.

A familiar scent breaks through the gore that stops him in his tracks. Your scent. Your blood.

You’re bleeding.

Like a hound, his head whips in your direction. He sees you across the battlefield, knocking a man to the ground. But one hand is pressed to your side, bright red visible even at this distance.

Shit, you’re further from him than he realizes and he has to scramble over a few boulders to be able to close the distance. His sharp eyes catch movement in the trees, and before he even has a chance to grab his bow, the hidden archer takes aim.

Everything happens so fast.

The arrow fires, Astarion eyes land on you, knows you don’t see it and as he raises his hand towards you, has your name on his lips—

Your hand snaps up, catching the arrow an inch before it hits your temple. With a glare, you look up at the archer, swing around, and throw the arrow right back at him.

Astarion watches the archer fall from the branches, landing in a heap on the ground.

Dead.

You grin in Astarion’s direction, face smattered with blood and he wants nothing more than to fuck you on top of that corpse. But then you stumble and concern takes over. If you fall in battle then he’s shit out of luck and he can’t let that happen.

“Whoa now, none of that!” he scolds, rushing to your side to catch you. “Where the Hells is that cleric when we need her?”

“Did you see me catch that arrow?” you slur, grinning. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Yes, yes, it was very hot, now hold still, you’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Even better, gives you a free meal.”

It’s Astarion’s turn to roll his eyes as he helps you lean against a tree for support. “I prefer the more intimate approach we’ve established.”

Once he’s sure you’re not going to collapse, he digs through his pack for a healing potion.

“Shame to let all this blood go to waste but to each his own,” you say.

He uncorks the potion with his teeth and holds the bottle up for you to drink. It’s not until it’s empty that he allows himself to calm down. You slowly remove your hand and the two of you watch the wound start to close. Not all the way, you’ll need Shadowheart for that, but enough to stop the bleeding.

Astarion spits the cork aside and throws the empty bottle. “There, almost good as new. Maybe don’t get stabbed again.”

“There go the rest of my plans for the day.”

“Lunatic.”

Something comes over him, making him grab the back of your head and yank you into a kiss, too wrapped up in his bullshit to overthink or consider his actions. With one arm around his waist, you kiss him back and it’s sloppy and messy and everything he needs it to be.

Nothing happened. You didn’t die and you’re still able to be seduced. Good.

When you draw back, gasping for breath, he grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sucks your fingers into his mouth, one by one, swirling his tongue around the digits to gather every drop of blood he can. You’re right. It seems silly to let it go to waste.

Your pupils dilate, your breath coming through your lips in a rush as you watch, transfixed.

He doesn’t need the tadpole to know what you’re thinking, or imagining. It’s a precursor to what he plans to do to you later. But with your thighs squeezing his head as he brings you over the edge.

Astarion releases your finger with a pop and a smirk. You lean in to steal another kiss when you’re stopped by the heavy thud of Karlach’s footsteps. You just manage to pull back when she bursts through the foliage.

“You guys alright?” she asks, also splattered with blood. “We just got jumped by some assholes.”

Astarion gestures to the bodies littered at your feet. “Welcome to the fucking club.”

“Where’s Shadowheart?” you ask.

“Right here,” Shadowheart speaks up, approaching from a different direction. “One tried to run away but I took care of it. Shit, are you bleeding?”

“Not anymore, thanks to me,” Astarion says.

When you wince and stumble towards her, Shadowheart catches you. Her hand glows with radiant light as she casts a healing spell.

“Easy there, soldier!” Karlach says. “You stay put. We’ll deal with these.” She gestures to the bodies, where Astarion is already digging through the pockets.

He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to let good gold go to waste, and definitely not because you two were interrupted. Not because being close and alone with you makes his head spin. Not because he doesn’t know why he kissed you like that. And certainly not because the brief taste of blood is threatening to send him into a frenzy.

By the time the bodies are searched, Shadowheart is done with her healing and you’re able to stand up straight.

“Let’s get back and tell the others,” you say. “With these guys gone, we should be good to keep our camp for one more night. But tomorrow we have to move on.”

Astarion is starting to feel peckish and welcomes the chance to be alone. “I’ll do a little scouting to check for stragglers,” he offers, tossing you the heavy bag of coin he collected. “You know, make sure there isn’t anything lurking before dark.”

“You sure? You really shouldn’t go alone,” you say.

He’s already headed in the opposite direction and turns to face you as he walks backward. “If they hear me, they deserve to catch me. You don’t need to worry, darling. I won’t be late for our date.”

Your cheeks darken and he watches Karlach break into a wide grin while Shadowheart raises her eyebrows. He’s already gone by the time they bombard you with questions.

That moment you two just shared plays over and over in his head. With the taste of your blood still on his tongue, he gives into baser instincts.

Tonight, he will fuck you, and you’ll be so enthralled by his talents, he’ll have you eating out of his hand in no time.

Astarion’s mission turns up no more cultists. And after a brief tussle with a boar, he’s recharged and ready to seduce the pants off you.

Literally.

Night has already begun to fall when he returns to camp. At first, he doesn’t see you anywhere, but then you emerge from the brush, in a clean tunic and trousers with your freshly washed clothes under your arm.

He sneaks up behind you as you lay them out on a nearby patch of grass to dry.

“If you waited we could have had a little dip together,” he purrs, only half teasing because bathing naked with you sounds enticing right now.

“That wasn’t funny,” you glare over your shoulder, although he doesn’t sense or see any real malice on your face. “They gave me shit the whole way back.”

“I’m fairly certain they knew something has been going on. You haven’t exactly been hiding the mark.”

You tug on your collar in a vain attempt to do just that. “Still.” You turn to face him and cross your arms, a neutral stance that conveniently highlights the muscles in your arms. Not that he notices.

“Darling,” he gasps, “are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not. I just don’t like people knowing my shit.”

Astarion glances around and can see multiple pairs of eyes on you both. So rather than close the distance, he settles for eye-fucking you instead.

“Tonight, all you need to worry about is relaxing and letting me take care of you. Thoroughly. Properly. Until the only thought in that pretty little head of yours is my name.”

Even from this distance, he hears the rush of your blood and it makes him grin wider. You shake said pretty head at him, turning away under the pretense of fixing your clothes.

“So long as you bathe beforehand. Blood may be your thing, but it’s not mine.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

He’s got you flustered and can’t help laughing as you shoo him away. After a brief stop at his tent for fresh clothes and soap, he finds a secluded spot by the nearby lake and takes time to pamper himself.

This part of the seduction ritual he likes, finds comfort in. Washing away the grime and viscera from his skin and taking the time to wash his hair puts him in the proper mindset. While he can no longer see his reflection, you can and that’s all that matters. He knows his looks are unparalleled.

So he primps and preens, cleans himself thoroughly before stepping out to dry off. The full moon casts the world in an otherworldly glow and he stands for a spell, taking in the night. Less than a week ago he was scrambling for rats in the dark, trying to sate the ever gnawing hunger. Now he can stand in the sun, sample the delicious blood of a thinking creature.

What a difference a few days makes.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep inhale to steady himself, to focus. And by the time he exhales, his eyes are open and he’s ready.

Camp is still very much buzzing with activity when he returns, bare-chested with loose trousers. Your scent wafts his way, making him subconsciously turn in your direction. His eyes meet yours over the fire, and he throws you a wink. You smile and duck your head, something he never found endearing until that moment.

Just like all the other nights, he waits for the activity to die down, waits until almost everyone is asleep, before sneaking into your tent.

Except, this time you’re awake. Your back is to him as you sit, still and silent. At first, he wonders what you’re doing, until he recognizes the steady breathing that comes with your meditations.

Silently, he ties the tent closed before kneeling behind you. He sees your pointed ear twitch, knows you’re aware of his presence.

Astarion lays his hands on your shoulders and leans down to nuzzle your temple. Your body is tense. He can feel the knots even through your tunic. Carefully, he digs his thumbs into them, rubbing in circles which forces a soft moan out of you.

“You are far too tense, darling. I don’t think the meditations are working,” he says with a low chuckle, smirking at the way the skin of your neck raises with goosebumps.

You lean back against his chest, making it harder to keep massaging you. So he slides his hands down your arms to hold you instead.

Astarion isn’t one for hugging or cuddling, but this feels nice, having your weight on him like this. It only lasts a second. You lean forward once more, this time with your face in your hands. He lays a hand on your back, recognizing that you need a minute, and more than happy to give you such.

He feels slightly out of his element. Normally when he arrives for the seduction, it’s hasty and eager, with the mark throwing themselves at him. You aren’t doing that, you haven’t even turned around to face him.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you tell him, your voice muffled. “If you’re looking for something carefree and light, I’m sure you can find someone with less baggage.”

Astarion can’t help bursting into laughter. He pulls your arms down and leans around to look you in the eye. “Have we been traveling with the same companions?” he asks. “If you can find this mythical baggage-less person then I salute you because from where I’m sitting, we’re all a bunch of fucking weirdos.”

That breaks the tension in you. Laughing, you lean into him again and he savors the closeness, recognizing that it stirs that same unknown sensation within him. He kisses your neck not only to move things along but for another reason.

Yours is the first thinking-creature’s neck he’s ever sampled and the novelty is fairly potent. He’s left his mark on you, not once but several times. It’s enough to drive him to distraction. The scent of your skin causes his body to react, his mouth already salivating while his cock twitches with interest.

Astarion finds you relaxing while the time slips away, and it isn’t long before his hands are reaching for the laces of your tunic. He unties them with deliberate slowness, giving you every chance to stop him.

You don’t.

In fact, your hands join his to help, and when they are finally undone, you draw away to lift the tunic over your head.

Now you’re both shirtless and when your warm skin touches his it’s like a pleasant balm to his cold flesh. He continues lavishing your throat while his hands cup your breasts, thrilled at the way your nipples pebble under his thumbs. He kneads and tweaks, pinching until just on the edge of pain before backing off.

“Astarion?” you ask, voice already breathless and husky with desire.

“Mmm, yes?”

“If we do this, I only have one request.”

He’s not surprised at this, even anticipated as such. There’s always a request or demand of him and he will dutifully oblige. Anything to keep this going, to seal the deal.

“And what’s that, darling?”

“Stay with me after? At least, just for the night.”

That…is it?

Astarion draws away, prompting you to turn to face him. Your eyes are hooded, lips wet from being swiped by your tongue. But there is a vulnerability he has never seen before that has him answering immediately.

“I will stay,” he promises, and means it. “For tonight, I am yours and you are mine. Nothing else outside this tent exists. It’s just us.” He gently cradles your face. “Just this.”

You lean in and he captures your lips.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, meant to reassure you that your humble request will be fulfilled. But as it continues, it switches, changes into something else entirely. One of his hands drops to your trousers, yanking at the laces with the same fevered energy that’s taken over your mouths. He is suddenly filled with the urge to touch, to make you shudder and moan not for his sake, but for yours.

Astarion sees in his mind’s eye every choice, every decision you have had to make. Always for others and never for yourself. Hells, do you do anything for your own well-being?

He hasn’t seen it. And if this night with him is it, if being with him is how you want to indulge, he’s going to make damn sure he makes it worth it.

When his hand slips below your waistline, his fingers slide through the mound of curls to the petal-soft flesh waiting for him. Feeling the wetness on his fingertips makes his eyebrow raise as he breaks from your kisses.

“Already, darling? I’m flattered.”

You huff, flustered. “It’s my neck,” you mumble, prompting him to latch his mouth there once more. “It’s really sensitive.”

You gasp when his fingertips stroke through your folds, spreading your arousal with practiced ease.

Astarion has a realization. “All these nights, when you knew I was going to be paying you a visit,” he says. “Did you by any chance feel aroused?”

“Every fucking time.”

He slides a finger into you, relishing the low moan and how eagerly your body pulls him in. That explains the intense hard-ons and need to get off immediately after feeding on you. He was unknowingly drinking your arousal, which he plans to do in a very different context tonight.

You’re warm and wet, and the sound of your rushing blood is making it so difficult not to seek his—your marks. The ones he feeds from every time, the ones that never seem to fully fade even with healing magic.

Sliding his finger out, he presses firm circles around your neglected nub while his free hand reaches for your breasts again. Your chest heaves and your hips begin to rise and fall along with his ministrations. When he pushes two fingers into you, your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Astarion!” you gasp.

“That’s it, darling. Let go of everything else. Just think about me.”

In this intimate moment, he becomes acutely aware of two things: one, his name has never sounded sweeter, and two, this is going to be different for him.

Astarion doesn’t find himself slipping away like he’s done in the past. Prior, his body would go on following the script while his brain retreated elsewhere. It was a part he knew all too well and had perfected over the centuries. A moment of disgust at himself then powering through just to get it done.

Yet, it’s not happening. Tonight, he is very aware of where he is and who he is with. Somehow having you be the one to moan his name is keeping him grounded, in the moment.

And he doesn’t want to lose that.

His fingers speed up, alternating between rubbing your nub and burrowing deep into that addictive warmth he wants around his cock. You’re gasping and moaning, seemingly uncaring if anyone hears.

Let them hear, he thinks. Let them know I’m the one making our fearless leader cum.

Suddenly, this angle isn’t right. It won’t serve his needs.

Because now that he’s aware of them, aware that he needs your body, needs your little gasps and moans, he won’t stop until you’re both in a breathless, mindless heap of body and limbs.

Astarion tries to draw his hand out of your trousers but you scramble to keep it there, until he nips at your ear and says, “Shh, shh, it’s alright. We just need to get a little comfortable.” Only then do you let him pull away.

He maneuvers you onto your back and is able to fully take in the delicious image you make. Eyes glassy with desire, lips parted, breasts moving as you try to catch your breath. Without warning, he grabs your throat, not hard. Just enough to angle your head up so he can steal a few more kisses.

Then his attention falls to your trousers and he has them off your legs a second later. You’re not wearing underwear, never bothered to put them on after your bath. Hooking his hands under your knees, he spreads you wide, takes his first look at all of you, and promptly descends.

Astarion doesn’t try to put on a show or warm you up with a few practiced licks. You are more than ready for him and he finds himself starved in a completely different way.

A welcomed way.

His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks greedily, humming with satisfaction when your thighs clamp around his head. It keeps him exactly where you want him, not that he plans to leave any time soon.

This taste of you is so different from your blood yet equally addicting. Heady and sweet, invading his senses until nothing else exists but you. His tongue snakes long your seam, parts your swollen lips, and seeks the hole he teased earlier.

When he finds it, your hips shoot up and he tongue-fucks you, eyes drifting up to meet yours as he does.

You’re propped on your elbows, watching his every move. The vision you make is breathtaking and as he watches your head fall back and your arms buckle, he smirks because he is the one making you feel this way.

Astarion slides a finger into you, this time deeper than the other angle allowed. Your thighs are already quivering and the moment he crooks his finger in just the right way, your arms finally give out and you lay flat on your back.

Hands tentatively find their way into his curls but instead of pulling like he anticipates, they stroke and burrow, holding on for the sake of staying grounded, not for control.

A second finger joins the first and his mouth returns to your aching nub, sucking as greedily as he wants. You’re shaking and moaning, your hips starting to grind against his face the longer he goes on. With the tadpole, he can sense you’re still holding back, still not entirely lost yet. He tries to get you there, increases the pressure of his mouth, and rubs harder against the special place inside you he’s found.

With every twitch, he feels you let go a little more. And when you’re almost there, he switches tactics. For the second time, he reaches for your mind, tries to show you images. This time of yourself, of what he is seeing right then and there.

A beautiful, wanton, deity of a person whom he worships. At least for right now, in this moment. One whose legs fit perfectly over his shoulders and whose shining eyes have him transfixed.

But then what happens next fundamentally changes Astarion and turns his world upside down.

Because, now he isn’t seeing you. He is watching a pale elf with glowing red eyes whose mouth is devouring your slit. Whose cheeks are ruddy with fresh boar’s blood and whose white curls are wrapped around dark fingers.

Astarion is seeing himself for the first time in two hundred years.

And bloody hell he’s magnificent. Not just because he’s beautiful but because he can feel what you’re feeling when you look at him. He can sense the warmth, affection, lust, and fierce protection you’re experiencing here and now, with him.

He’s already achieved his goal. Now he can move on to more important things.

He draws an orgasm out of you only minutes later, not needing you to beg. Not when you’ve given him yet another precious gift.

What a breathtaking sight the two of you make. You, bowing your back into a beautiful arch, and him, sucking greedily at your clit while his fingers stroke deep inside you.

Astarion comes up for air only when your sweaty legs glide off his shoulders, leaving you spread and satisfied.

“How’s that mind of yours now?” he asks, licking your slick off his lips.

It takes a moment for you to answer. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding,” you gasp, a hand pressed to your forehead as you try to collect yourself.

Astarion smirks and pushes himself up onto his knees, carefully slipping his fingers out of you. He can feel your walls clench, automatically trying to keep him there. He’s tempted but has a better idea.

“I told you, I’m quite good.”

While you lay there, watching, waiting, he makes a show of unlacing his trousers. By now his cock is desperate for attention, straining against the fabric. Each move he makes is purposeful, each look calculated, letting you know exactly what he plans to do next.

He thinks of the previous nights when he crawled into your tent and slid up behind you. And once his trousers are gone and his cock is free, full and leaking at the tip, he nods his head.

“Turn on your side, darling.”

He strokes himself while you do, using your arousal to make the glide of his hand easier, better. He lets every lustful thought invade his senses, lets his eyes shamelessly rake over your body as he realizes this is a fantasy he will get to live out.

Astarion knows this night is about you, should be about you, but he can’t help but feel that it’s now also about him. About having something, even if it’s for a night, that gets to be his.

He spoons up behind you, tucking his cock snug under your backside. His hand comes around and slides between your legs once more, picking up right where he left off. You gasp at the sensitivity, your body tensing for only a second until you manage to relax again.

This time with the added bonus of you rocking against him.

Time loses all meaning. He can not be certain how long you both lay this way, grinding and moving together while his fingers make you cum for a second time. It takes longer but absolutely worth every moment. His mouth is permanently attached to your throat lavishing it in kisses and love bites, leaving even more marks. Not as deep as the mark. He'll only drink from you once he’s good and ready.

And when neither of you can take it anymore, when the friction of your skin isn’t enough and you’re positively soaked, he whispers into your ear.

“Lift your leg.”

You do and he takes hold of himself, coats himself in your slick again, then pushes into you with a smooth, quick, thrust.

A perfect fit.

Being inside you, having his cock enveloped by that fucking heat is better than he would have ever thought. After that, he can’t take his time, won’t until he’s emptied every last drop into you.

Your moans are constant, muffled as you bury your face into your thin pillow, your hand twisting the bedroll, reminding him of how he twisted the soil when he had his first taste of you.

Taste.

Gods does he want to taste you again, drink you as he continues pounding into your eager body. As if struck by the same thought, you reach back to slide your hand into his curls.

“Bite me,” you urge. “I need you too. I can’t…”

He hears the rest of the thought in his head.

I can’t cum again if you don’t.

Astarion bites down on the mark, having half a mind to press down on your swollen nub at the same time. You cry out this time. Loudly. Properly. Not his name yet even more beautiful, a cry of pure ecstasy.

Your blood seeps into his mouth just as a fresh wave of your slick coats his cock, and he is done for.

Thrusting wildly, still rubbing your sore clit, Astarion spills himself into you, lost in a frenzy of blood and lust. He’s aware enough to yank out his fangs but after that, it's a blur as he sucks at your throat while his cock spasms and fills you with his seed.

It's too much and coats his lap and your thighs while trickles of blood dribble down your neck. He’s aware of you pushing his hand away from the overstimulation. So he grabs your hip for leverage during his final, weak thrusts. Spent, you both cry out a final time and then grow still.

Eventually, you roll onto your stomach while Astarion collapses onto your back, crushing you against the bedroll.

You don’t seem to mind in the slightest, letting him lazily lick away any remnants of blood. Only then do you hum with satisfaction stretching underneath him as much as the position will allow.

“Fuck, Astarion.”

“That you did, love. That. You. Did.” Each word is punctuated by a kiss or a nibble.

“You were right,” you purr, sounding infinitely more relaxed than he’s ever heard. “I needed that.”

He places a final kiss to the mark before rolling onto his back. “Mmm, me too.” He tucks his hand under his head, staring up at the canvas of the tent with a lazy, satisfied grin. Like a cat who’s just found a sunbeam.

You roll to face him, draping yourself across his chest in a graceless heap. Your face is glowing with post-coital bliss, eyes still shining as they take him in. You reach up to wipe away a spot of blood from the corner of his lips, which he sucks off your thumb.

Astarion is aware you both should clean up but he can’t bring it in himself to care. Your scent hangs around him, not just your blood but your arousal and release. When mixed with his own, it stirs something primal inside, a sense of claim he’s not sure he has a right to feel.

But he’s far too satisfied to question it.

“That was amazing,” you slur. Already your eyes are drooping and your breathing evens out.

Astarion draws you close, feels around for a blanket he manages to drape over you both. “You’re amazing,” he responds, and is surprised he means it.

Even he is ready to trance, the normal rush of adrenaline after feeding is gone, channeled into the thrusting of his hips during those last precious seconds before utter bliss.

For once, no thoughts or machinations enter his mind. Unless it’s your soft body atop his, he has no interest, lazily stroking your back until you fall asleep.

And as he lets his trance carry him away, he has one final thought, an observation his waking mind will remember vividly the next morning when he finds you in the same position, curled around each other even in sleep.

Having you in his arms seems to be another perfect fit.

---

Taglist: @frankie-mercury @miniminx

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x you

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yuutx · 2 months

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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 . . (𝒩𝒜𝒩𝒜𝑀𝐼 𝒦𝐸𝒩𝒯𝒪)

nanami kento x f!reader . 18+ content. ⟆ nsfw + unprotected sex/raw sex. grinding against his thigh. tit/nipple play. clit play + clit slapping. size kink. breeding kink. ⟆ mdom + fsub ⟆ not proofread ! ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

just wanna let u all know that this probably isn't my best of works as im really sick right now . . i hope you enjoy nonetheless though ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

Your sopping cunt rutted against his thick thigh, his hands gripping your hips as he watched you ride him, trying to get off from his thigh alone. Nanami leaned back against the couch, letting you have your fun. He knew how desperate you'd been all night. His lips parted as he watched you move, the slickness of your arousal dripping down his leg. Your breasts bounced in his face and he caught one with his mouth, licking over the sensitive peak, sucking it into his hot mouth. His teeth gently pulled at your nipple, his fingers pinching the other between his calloused digits, rolling it around, feeling the stiffness between his fingers. His tongue flicked out, tracing the hardened bud, his eyes lifting to watch your face as he teased you, your hands tangled in his blonde hair, his name on your lips.

Nanami let go of your nipple with a wet pop, his hands trailing down your sides to your ass, squeezing your cheeks before pushing you against him. His fingers gripped the round globes as he watched you, your body shaking, your walls quivering, trying to tighten around something that wasn't there. His lips curled into a small smile as he felt you twitching above him, your hips moving in short, quick jerks. You were so close to coming undone.

He pushed his thigh harder against your clit, your body moving on instinct as you ground yourself against him, the slacks he wore providing the perfect amount of friction for your sensitive clit. The coil within you wound tighter, almost ready to snap, so close to falling over the edge. You whined when his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass, the pressure building higher and higher.

"Go ahead," his voice was smooth, dark and low. "I know you're close. Let go, love. Cum on my thigh."

His words were all you needed, and you fell apart, your walls fluttering around nothing, your hips spasming, his hands holding you in place. Your eyes closed, the pleasure crashing over you in waves, his name tumbling from your lips, breathy moans filling the air. Your hands left his hair, trailing down his shoulders to his biceps, holding onto him as you came down, the high slowly fading away.

You opened your eyes, meeting his hazel gaze, his blonde locks falling in front of his face. He gave you a crooked smile, his lips parting as he spoke. "Such a good girl, cumming for me." His thumbs caressed the flesh of your hips as he continued, "You looked so beautiful, rutting against me. So desperate, so needy." He paused, his grip on you tightening, his eyes burning with a desire he had yet to satiate. "Do you think you're ready for more?"

Your walls clenched around nothing, his words causing another wave of arousal to flood from your slit. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. His hands moved from your hips to your chest, pushing your tits together, his head ducking down to lick between the valley. His tongue dragged from the underside of your breast up the center, stopping to give each nipple a long, slow lick. He blew cool air on the wet trails, watching with lust-blown eyes as your nipples hardened once more. "So responsive," his voice was deep, full of want, the hunger he had been ignoring all night coming to the surface. "Do you think you can handle my cock now, little one? Can you take all of me?"

You whined, wanting him inside of you more than anything, wanting him to fill you, stretch you. Your head nodded, your hips lifting. Nanami chuckled, the sound causing a shiver to run down your spine, his hands leaving your breasts. He reached between your bodies, fingers undoing the zipper of his pants. His length sprang free, the tip weeping pearly precum, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

Nanami rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. He pressed the blunt tip against your hole, the swollen head pushing past the tight ring of muscle, sinking inch by inch into your tight cunt. His mouth fell open, a moan slipping out. Your walls clung to his cock, trying to keep him inside. You felt so full, so complete. The stretch bordered on painful, but you loved it, the delicious burn adding to your arousal. He bottomed out, his pelvis flush against yours. His head fell forward, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his eyes closed, taking a moment to savor the feeling of being sheathed inside you. Glossy lips parted, his tongue darting out to lick the salty skin, his breath hot against your body. "So fucking good, angel. You're so tight, so perfect for me..You feel like heaven." Nanami lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours, his mouth a mere centimeter from yours. "You ready, baby? I'm not going to be gentle, not tonight." He pulled his hips back, until only the tip was still inside, his hands grabbing your waist, his grip bruising. "I'm going to ruin you."

With those final whispers, his mouth crashed against yours, his tongue slipping past your parted lips. His hips slammed back against you, his cock bottoming out, the force of the thrust causing your body to jerk. You moaned into his mouth, your body shaking, the pain of the impact quickly dissipating, replaced with the overwhelming need for him to do it again. He pulled his hips back again, his length dragging along your fluttering walls, the feeling of being empty causing you to break the kiss, a whimper slipping out. You didn't have time to miss the way he filled you before he thrust back inside, his pace unforgiving. You could do nothing but hold onto him, his body the only thing keeping you grounded. He moved one of his hands from your waist to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape, pulling you back towards him, his lips claiming yours again. His other hand moved from your waist, his thumb finding your clit, his skilled digit rubbing tight circles around the bundle of nerves. Your mind was reeling, unable to keep up, the dual stimulation driving you wild.

You pulled away, a broken cry falling from your mouth as his hips snapped against you again, his cock pounding into your cunt. He kept the pace, his finger swirling around your clit, the pleasure growing within you, the coil winding tighter and tighter. "Ke-Kento.. s' good, love your cock..so big.." The words left your mouth in a rush, your brain too hazy to think of anything coherent. You could hear the wet noises of your bodies coming together, his length moving easily inside you. "Mhmm, please don't stop… i-i'm close..close to cumming on your b-big.. a-ah..!"

Your body shuddered, a yelp escaping as he slapped your clit, the sharp sting quickly melting into pleasure. You could feel your orgasm approaching, so close, the tidal wave of euphoria cresting. A few more well timed thrusts and his thumb pressing hard against your clit was all it took to push you over the edge. You fell, the world around you fading away, only Nanami's cock and the way he filled you mattering. You clenched around his cock, his hips faltering as he chased his own release, his length swelling. "Fu-fuck," his voice was deeper, more ragged. "Gonna fill this little pussy with my cum. Gonna breed you, make you mine." He stilled, his cock buried to the hilt, the first hot spurt of cum splashing against your walls, a guttural groan leaving his throat. His mouth fell open, his eyes shut as his body shook, the euphoria washing over him, his mind blissfully blank. His hips twitched, his member pulsing, squirt after hot squirt coating the inside of your cunt, his length twitching as his balls emptied, his seed seeping from the corners of your joined sex. His eyes fluttered open, meeting your gaze, a smile gracing his lips, his eyes soft.

"Mine..Finally mine."

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nickfowlerrr · 9 months

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i never thought you’d happen to me - 3

part one / part two

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst maybe? allusion to, but no actual, smut. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 2.6k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

As you pull up to their house, the soft glow from the few lights still on inside light up the windows along the front face. Bucky parks as you unbuckle and meets you as you open the passenger door, Wolfie in your hand as you stand.

You make your way up their porch quickly before Bucky knocks softly on the front door. It opens not too much later as Steve greets you both, holding Linc with one arm as he carries the still pouting boy, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder and chest as his arms hold onto his Uncle as comfortably as he can.

The second he registers its you guys, his bright blue eyes go wide, turning to Steve with a look of surprise, his mouth parting open like he can’t believe his own eyes, before he turns back to you both and stretches his arms out to Bucky, hitting Steve a bit as he does, but not seeming to register it in his excitement. Steve chuckles as he hands him over to Bucky, who takes him in his arms readily.

“Hi, Daddy,” Linc greets as he cuddles into Bucky’s chest, looking like he’s about to pass out any second now.

“Hey, buddy,” he smiles, “We brought you Wolfie.”

“Don’t need Wolfie,” he shakes his head, burying his face in Bucky’s shirt. “You, Daddy.”

You see the moment it clicks in Bucky’s mind that all Linc really wanted was him, and you can’t help but smile at the gleam in his eyes as he hugs his son tighter.

“Here, come in,” Steve tells you both, urging you inside. “I think Ellie’s sleeping, already,” he continues as he leads you to the kid’s room. Peeking inside, you can see her sleeping soundly, the spot near her, reserved for Licoln, obviously empty. You stare for a moment longer before Bucky steps beside you.

“We’re gonna try and go to sleep now, okay?” he tells Linc, who nods softly.

As Bucky enters the room, you find yourself alone with Steve in the hallway, who is staring at you quizzically.

“What?” you ask him.

“Nothin’,” he brushes off. “It’s just..” he stops himself, thinking through what he wants to say before he continues carefully. “Are you guys alright?”

You look at him like a deer in headlights.

“Yeah,” you breathe with a bit too fervent of a nod. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Just want to make sure. You guys have been acting odd all day. And look, if it’s a secret or something, that’s fine.. But, you know you can tell us anything. I just want to make sure everything’s alright,” he says sincerely, looking at you in the way only he can, a trust and understanding in his eyes that makes you want to come clean just like that. On instinct, you find yourself opening your mouth to confess your situation, but catch yourself before letting the absurdity slip.

“It is a secret,” you say, smiling through a grimace. “But, I promise, we’re good.”

He looks at you thoughtfully once more before conceding with a nod. “Okay,” he says before offering you a small smile.

The door creaks open a bit wider once again and you expect to find Bucky alone, coming out from getting Linc down.

So when he opens the door even wider and walks out with a twin in each arm, a sorry smile on his lips as he meets your eye, you can’t help but scoff in amusement.

Ellie is snoozing against him as Lincoln holds onto Wolfie like his life depends on it. His eyes are tired but he fights it still.

“I tried,” Bucky defends himself, “but Ellie woke up and they sweet talked me.”

“Can’t blame you,” Steve laughs, “Poppy suckered me into extra s’mores earlier with one puppy dog look alone, I can’t imagine what double toddler pouts would get outta me.”

Bucky laughs in turn, a look of pure happiness in his eyes as he watches his best friend in such simple joy talking about his kids. Steve is happy. Nat is happy. And you, he thinks, you’re happy too. He doesn’t know how or when you all luck out on this, but just knowing that this is the future that awaits him, he’s excited to go back to the present so he can live out every moment of this with you.

Ellie’s eyes flutter at the sound of your laugh at Steve’s story and she gingerly picks her head up, her eyes looking around. When she spots you, she lets her eyes close again as a smile graces her precious face, one arm blindly reaching out in your direction.

You see her and gently take her from Bucky’s hold, holding her tightly against you as she nuzzles into you. Her hand is petting you gently, like she’s ensuring you’re there and you feel her. You smile at the affectionate gesture until her small voice makes its way to your ears.

“Momma,” she sighs sleepily as she cuddles into your neck before her movements eventually stop and she’s sleeping once again.

And that was it. Her sweet, soft voice did it. You had to turn away from her as best you could as you tried not to choke on your cry - not wanting to wake her up and alarm her as your eyes welled and a tear slipped, your hand running up and down her back soothingly.

You could see the concern written all over Steve’s face as he looked at you, “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just been feeling really emotional lately,” you try to write off the sudden display of emotions taking over you.

“Oh. Oh,” he realizes. He nods, almost dumbly, “right, right.”

You know what he’s putting together in his mind, but you don’t have the energy to correct him. That can be a problem for future you to tamper down. You sniffle, trying to collect yourself as you hold Ellie securely in your arms. You look to Bucky with an unspoken question.

“I think we’re gonna take ‘em home, this little guy doesn’t wanna sleep tonight,” Bucky says, patting Linc’s back gently. “But thank you guys for watching them today.”

“Yeah, of course. And hey, we can pick them up on our way out tomorrow if you guys still wanted the day. Poppy and Al have been looking forward to it all week.”

“That’d be great,” you nod with a smile. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Anytime.”

You all walk to the front door and part with hugs before you and Bucky get the sleepy toddlers buckled in their seats. This time is much easier than it was this morning now that they’re thoroughly exhausted and not wiggling around like worms.

You shut the doors gently before getting in yourselves, Bucky driving you all back to the house in a peaceful quiet.

—

It’s easy getting them out of the car, each of you holding one as you enter back inside.

You and Bucky carry them to their room, thinking they’re finally settled, but as you try to put them down in their beds, neither of them will let go of you guys. Ellie is clearly still sleepy as she huffs annoyedly at you for trying to leave her when she’s so comfy, and Linc is awake again as he holds onto Bucky and Wolfie.

“Big bed, daddy,” he mumbles, looking at him with those pleading eyes.

Bucky looks at you, finding you holding Ellie close once again, not having put her down after her huffing. You shrug and watch as he nods, turning back to grab Lincoln.

“Alright,” he sighs, “come on, buddy. But we have to go to bed now, got it?”

“Mhm,” he nods happily, hugging Bucky’s neck.

You smile at the scene before making your way to the bedroom, thankful that all of you are already in pajamas as you sit on the bed with Ellie.

“I’m gonna lay down with you in a second, baby,” you reassure her quietly before setting her down, her head on a pillow near the center of the bed.

You take off your shoes as Bucky puts Lincoln down next to Ellie and does the same. You look at the twins, Lincoln finally letting his eyes close as his breaths slow and steady and sleep takes him at last. Bucky walks over to you and turns your face to him gently. You touch his wrist gingerly as you look in his eyes, stepping in closer. Being so close has never felt so right.

“What time did you fall asleep last night?” you ask him softly.

“Around midnight.”

“Me too,” you nod.

“Guess we still have a few hours to enjoy this,” he says, dropping his hand from your cheek in favor of pulling you closer by your waist, looking over with a bittersweet smile to the twins on the bed.

“Yeah,” you agree, “...and then what?”

“And then… we go back. Start living this all out in real time. Enjoy every second,” he says, leaning down to kiss you gently.

“Not the worst way to start forever,” you muse.

“Forever, huh?” he asks with a smirk.

“As long as we both shall live,” you nod with a smile of your own.

He titters before kissing you again, your lips moving softly against his. “Who woulda thought.”

“Mmm… everyone but us, apparently,” you laugh breathily before brushing his lips with yours once more. You move to pull away but Bucky keeps you where you are, kissing you a little more firmly as his hands lightly squeeze your chubby waist. Finally, you part for air, his forehead falling to yours as you take a second to catch your breath, licking your lips a touch.

A mumble followed by a huff sounds from the bed, catching both your attentions. You turn and see Ellie moving around before she speaks, more clearly this time.

“Mommy,” she eeks out, voice groggy with sleep as she rolls over.

“I guess this is goodnight,” you smile softly.

“Goodnight,” he says, giving you a soft smile of his own, tightening his hold on you for a second as he admires you still before him. “I’ll find you in the morning,” he promises.

You nod, the thought sending your tummy fluttering. “Okay.”

You slowly part and walk around to your sides of the bed, getting in carefully so as not to wake the twins. As you settle in, Ellie senses you near and crawls to you, hugging you as she settles into your warmth. You look over and see Linc already rolled into Bucky in turn. Your eyes meet Bucky’s then as you share a smile. You scooch closer to them, and he meets you near the middle - the four of you comfortable as can be under the comforter.

“Call me crazy,” he whispers, “but I’m looking forward to this already.”

You huff out a laugh at that before shaking your head lightly, “‘S’not that crazy,” you admit, sounding almost shy to yourself at the confession before glancing over at him again.

He looks so happy, his brilliant eyes shining even through the darkened room. “Goodnight, doll,” he offers again.

“Goodnight, Buck,” you whisper back.

With the twins cuddled up between you both, it isn’t long before all of you are sleeping soundly.

—-

It’s quiet when you wake up.

And cold.

You hate that.

You slowly blink your eyes open, finding yourself in your room back at the tower once again. You check the clock. 3:02am.

Your mind is racing and a weird feeling is growing in your stomach. You quickly recognize it as anxiety as you try to calm yourself down. The one thought that is at the forefront of your mind, over everything, is this: Was it real?

You sit up and take a second to orient yourself in the dark before getting up. You don’t bother with the lights, you go straight for the door to your room.

You pull it open as quietly as you can manage before walking into the hallway. It’s dark out here, too, but not pitch black. The glow from the soft lights down the hall offer you some sight before you follow them. No one is in the living room when you get there, though, the lights had just been left on apparently. You sigh, still struggling to comprehend if you’d just woken up from a very real seeming dream or if you really had just been in the future for 24 hours. You turn to start back down the hallway again. As you get to the entryway, you see a figure coming down, stopping you in your tracks as you try to see who it is. You step closer after a moment, too, curiosity eating at you - yelling at you to find out who it is.

Another step and then the figure becomes more clear. When you get to the point where you can both see each other, you both still and idle a moment - both of you seeming to be equally unsure.

Bucky takes a step to you, testing the waters. And you copy his movement. You stare at one another a second, your breathing getting heavier.

Suddenly, you lose your patience. You can’t take it any longer, you muster your courage and with a deep, albeit shaky breath, you walk to him again. He moves just as swiftly as you now, more confident in his path before meeting you in the middle of the hallway.

No words pass your lips, the moment you’re close enough to touch, Bucky has you flush against him as he crashes his lips into yours. You’re pulling him to you before he just lifts you off your feet, forcing you to hold onto him - not that you really minded all that much. Your arms are wound around his neck, your fingers in his hair as your thick thighs are around him, his hands holding you with no effort at all. The kiss is intent and fervent and long overdue here. He doesn’t let up and neither do you - every emotion you’d been holding back finally spilling as you lose yourself in him.

You have to break the kiss eventually, breathing heavier than you had been as you try to collect yourself as you press your forehead to his. Bucky holds you tightly, refusing to let you go as his eyes close - a shudder you almost didn’t notice passing over him.

“I love you,” he confesses quietly, almost pained. “‘M sorry if that’s too soon, but I need you to know. I do.”

“Bucky,” you utter, touching his cheek gently, urging him to look at you. You shake your head lightly, “don’t be sorry.”

You kiss him again, gentler now.

“I love you,” you breathe softly against his lips.

He smiles into your kiss, a sense of relief coming over you both as he hugs you tightly before he sets you down on your feet.

You look at him with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours before you slowly start down the hall again.

“My room or yours?” you ask without pretense, leading the way.

“My bed’s bigger,” he says, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you bridal style down the hall. “Hope you like it, because I don’t plan on letting you leave it for the next 24 hours. At least.

“We’ve got a lot of time to make up for. And a lot of future to catch up to,” he smiles as he carries you across the threshold before setting you gently down on his bed.

“Hm,” you simper, easily grabbing his hand and pulling him down on top of you, the sight of him above you sending that growing ever familiar thrill of anticipation through you, “we should really get started then.”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #dad!bucky #mom!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

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fallinallincurls · 2 months

Text

pancakes for two, i will always love you

this is my (late) entry for demi's lowkey lovefest 2k24! thank you so much for hosting this fun little challenge @wyattjohnston!

this fic is also a belated birthday gift to the amazing @desiredposion!! inspiration struck and i had to make the most of it so i hope you love this! this was also my first time writing for nico which was so much fun.

prompt used: "don't ever stop looking at me like that."

heavily inspired by the lyrics "maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two, hash brown, egg yolk, i will always love you" from keep driving by harry styles

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.3k+

~~~~~

Dating a professional hockey player means that slow mornings are a rarity. Usually, Nico is up and out the door for morning skate before your eyes even open. But today, you’re lucky enough to get the extra time in bed with the man you love for the first time in what feels like forever.

As sunlights bathes the room in a subtle, but beautiful golden glow, you snuggle in closer to Nico in an effort to absorb the heat radiating from his body. His strong arms tighten around you instinctively and even though his eyes remain closed, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“Morning, Neeks.”

“Mm,” He hums contently, making you giggle and you relish in the rough feeling of his scruff against your skin. You card a hand through his tousled hair, earning a soft moan in response.

“Come on, schatzi.” He murmurs, dragging out the syllables of each word as a slight smirk appears on his lips. “You know how much I like it when you play with my hair.”

“Oh trust me, I know.” You chuckle, moving your hand to his cheek just as Nico lifts his head and his gorgeous brown eyes meet yours. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, the playfulness that was evident just seconds ago fading even though the identical tender smiles on your faces continue to grow.

“We don’t get to do this enough.” Nico whispers, gaze never leaving yours as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. You rest a hand on his bare chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and try to commit every detail about this moment to memory. Nothing but pure adoration rushes through your veins as you admire the beautiful man next to you.

“That’s okay. It makes these rare mornings that much more special.”

“I’m going to tell the team we can’t ever have practice until after 10 at the earliest.” Nico grins, his dimples appearing as he laughs at his own little joke.

“You have that power as captain?” You tease, pressing a kiss to his nose, his cheek, and finally his lips. Nico smiles into the kiss before deepening it for a few seconds, bringing out that familiar need for him.

“I don’t really know, but I deserve some more time with my girl so I’ll make it a rule. I don’t care what anyone says.” He mumbles against your lips, voice low and still full of sleep.

Your heart swells as you drink in the sight of your boyfriend. Nico’s eyes are sparkling with love and his sweet smile is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. His hair is a mess but somehow still looks perfect and you absentmindedly trace shapes on his shoulder, feeling the well toned muscles there.

He is a dream. And despite all odds, you’re the lucky one who gets to love him every single day. That’s something you’ll never take for granted because you never thought you’d find someone as kind, caring and amazing as Nico.

Yet, here you are.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Nico presses another tender kiss to your cheek before pulling away like he’s going to get up.

“Hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?” You tease him, grabbing onto his forearm in an effort to keep him in bed.

“To make breakfast?” Nico replies, more as a question than a statement. His brows knit together in confusion and the cutest look crosses over his facial features.

“Right now? We can’t stay and cuddle for five more minutes?” Nico can’t help but chuckle at the adorable pout you’re putting on display, but doesn’t give into your antics. Instead, he leans down to give you one last kiss before heading towards the bedroom door.

“Yes, right now. By the time you’re done with your morning routine, everything will be ready. I promise. We have all day to be cozy and do absolutely nothing.” He reassures you, that cheeky smile of his blossoming across his lips and bringing out his dimples again.

“Not fair, Neeks!” You call after him, that giddy feeling of happiness rushing through you when you hear his laughter floating down the hallway. After soaking in the warmth for a few more seconds, you reluctantly drag yourself out of bed to shower and get your morning routine done.

And true to his word, when you enter the kitchen dressed in sweats and one of Nico’s shirts ready for a lazy day in with your boyfriend, you find the counter covered in a full breakfast spread. A mug of coffee made just the way you like it, pancakes for two, maple syrup, hash browns and eggs are all plated and ready to be enjoyed.

“Nico,” You breathe out, shock and awe evident in your voice. Nico is always doing something sweet for you, no matter how big or small, but you weren’t expecting this at all. “What is this for?”

“Just because.” Nico shrugs, a bashful look on his face. His cheeks are pink with blush and those gorgeous brown eyes are twinkling with excitement. “We don’t get many mornings together like this. I wanted to spoil you. Made all your favorites.” He admits before stealing a kiss from you and passing you a full plate he somehow put together without you noticing.

“I love you.” There’s nothing else you can say. After all the time together, these little gestures still warm your heart and are the kindest reminders of Nico’s love for you.

“I love you too, schatzi. Now come on, let’s eat. We’ve got a whole lot of nothing to do today.” Nico teases, sitting down next to you at the table.

As you enjoy breakfast together, the two of you talk about everything and anything. Nico tells you some funny stories from practice yesterday and catches you up on all the drama about how Jack likes a girl, but won’t make a move. You fill him in on your latest project at work and how you scheduled a girls day with your best friend for later that week.

“We’re going to check out that new bookstore in Hoboken! The one right by the restaurant we really like on the waterfront. I’m looking for the next book in the series I’m reading so hopefully they have it.”

Noticing Nico has been quiet the whole time you’ve been talking, your rambling trails off. But before you can ask what’s wrong, your breath is stolen away. Because when you take in the sight of your boyfriend, you see the fondest look on his face. One that you recognize of pure love and adoration. It’s the look of someone who has found exactly where they should be. The look of someone who has found happiness in the simplicity of spending their life with another person.

“Please don’t ever stop looking at me like that.” You murmur, the words slipping past your lips before you even realize what you’re saying. Nico’s gentle smile just grows, his hand reaching for yours.

“Like what?” He teases, that familiar playfulness evident through his question.

“Like nothing else in the world matters but the love that we have. Like you’re the happiest right here with me.”

“I am the happiest with you. Always will be.” Nico whispers before pulling you in for a deep kiss. He says everything with that kiss, words aren’t necessary and wouldn’t do justice to how he feels about you. You melt into his gentle touch, smiling against his lips as everything else falls away for just a moment.

“And you’re right,” He starts when the kiss breaks, his big brown eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing else even compares to the way I love you.”

And right then, over pancakes and coffee that Nico made you, you know he’s going to be the man you marry. The one you spend the rest of your days with. Because this kind of love is once-in-a-lifetime and you don’t want to go through life without him by your side.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fics #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier blurbs #nico hischier fluff #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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stevebabey · 1 year

Text

part one, part two, part three. this a part four. this is so accidentally long but hickies as promised, w a brief return out touch starved steve <3 mwah!

Eddie is sure his kiss tastes of uncertainty.

He can’t help the way his lips betray his nervousness in their obvious restraint. He knows he had been far more enthusiastic last night, eagerness behind every kiss. This kiss is… softer. Shyer.

He can’t help it. Because even though Steve said yes, had maybe flattened Eddie’s heart by adding a please, Eddie’s still… unsure. Still worried. Still waiting for a punch to come because that’s what happens to boys who kiss boys.

But… Steve’s hands are still holding onto Eddie’s wrists, keeping them in their place where they cup Steve’s face so gently. When Eddie had leaned in, lips grazing Steve’s, he had felt the other’s tightening grip like a silent prayer, saying come close, stay close. Even now, the grip around Eddie’s wrists holds firm.

Though it’s the last thing he wants, Eddie breaks the kiss. He draws back, savouring the moment — the sweetness of Steve’s lips for what might be the final time — with his eyes shut tight. Did I do it right this time? He thinks, he hopes. Can I kiss you and keep you?

“I’m…” Steve starts, his voice a whisper. Eddie’s eyes open. His fingers flex along Steve’s jaw instinctively. “Really confused.” Steve admits quietly.

His face is reserved. Only slight ripples of anxiety peek through. The crinkle between his brows speaks of his abundance of confusion. Eddie’s eyes drink in every expression and he can’t stop help how his eyes catch back on Steve’s lips. He stares when Steve speaks.

“I thought you— I thought you didn’t want…”

“Didn’t want this?” Eddie echoes, with a tone of incredulity, eyes darting back up to look Steve in the eye. He punctuates the last word with another touch, the pad of his thumb touching Steve’s bottom lip bravely.

Steve shivers. His eyes flutter for a moment, in a way Eddie has come to know means his strange aversion to touch is flaring up but — but Steve’s hands keep Eddie from moving away when he tries. Steve nods slowly.

Eddie swallows — tries to push down the ache to kiss him again. They’re still twisted; Steve still doesn’t get it.

Neither does Eddie though. He can’t even imagine what Steve came over to apologise for. What mental gymnastics he had put himself through to somehow be the one who needs to apologise in this situation.

“Where the fuck,” Eddie breathes softly, with an appalled chuckle, letting Steve know he wasn’t mad. Wasn’t in the slightest bit annoyed, only confused. “Did you get that idea?”

Beneath his hands, Eddie can feel Steve’s cheeks grow hotter. The colour soon follows, a glorious crimson that fills the apples of his cheeks. And sure, fine, okay, sue Eddie if he enjoys the sight a little too much. Steve all flushed in the face, ears definitely warmer than they were a second ago.

Steve starts to stammer. “You— You sounded annoyed when I was leaving.” His brows are nearly touching in the middle, drawn together in concern. “I thought you were regretting—“

Eddie interrupts to clarify, suddenly aware of where they’d gotten so muddled. “I sounded annoyed because you were leaving, Steve. Not…”

Not because you asked for a kiss. Eddie’s throat dries up. He can’t say it aloud, not just yet. The words dance on the tip of his tongue. Eddie doesn’t trust himself not to fumble them.

Even though, Steve’s sudden departure had been due to a genuine misunderstanding, Eddie can’t— he’s not… He’s got to be realistic with himself, just in case. Not say too much too soon.

Steve reads into the silent lull in Eddie’s words and in an instant, his eyes are widening in understanding. Somehow, his cheeks glow even warmer.

“Oh,” Steve says, the word doused in relief, in understanding. “Oh my god—“

The rest of his sentence is lost as a car drives by, tires groaning loudly along the tar road. It serves as a quick reminder of where they are. In public, in such close proximity. Eddie steps back instantly, hands ripping away from Steve as a lick of panic runs up his spine. His eyes track the pale blue car down the road.

They were covered by the van but, still.

“C’mon,” Steve says softly, calling to catch his attention.

The panic wavers wildly for a moment before eventually relenting, Eddie dropping his shoulders as he turns back to Steve. He’s delighted to find Steve is no less red in the face.

Steve clears his throat, “We can call a tow back at yours.”

He gestures to his car, an invitation, with a smile. Eddie’s not even sure he’s meant to say something so reassuring; a mixture of the use of we and the implication Steve would come back home with him. Would come inside.

Eddie can’t help how he ogles at Steve. He’s doing another once-over to make sure Steve isn’t a mirage about to fade. Maybe Eddie had actually crashed his van when the engine spluttered on him and all this was a weird and extremely vivid coma dream.

Except, Steve doesn’t look perfect — not like a dream would.

Eddie can tell from the flatness of his hair, he likely didn’t sleep well. He’s got a tired but kind smile on. It’s shyer than Eddie’s ever seen before.

He’s still wearing that bright green Family Video vest for Christ’s sake — if Eddie was in a coma, he had some serious self-reflection to do if his brain picked this as his dream-Steve fit.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, with a nod and a smile of his own. “Lemme, uh, lemme just grab my stuff.”

Eddie turns to hide his face before Steve can see it grow into a wild frenzied smile, too gleeful to contain. He pops the driver’s side door and scurries around, grabbing all the essentials; cigarettes, lighters, and tapes with actual good music on them.

Steve’s waiting for him, still in the same spot when he slides the door shut. Eddie works the rusted lock to lock it up. No, Eddie thinks gleefully, this is not a dream.

Steve is surprised it’s not more awkward.

Not that he wants that— honestly, this sweet in-between phase where Eddie keeps glancing over at him, brown eyes longing and like he was checking if Steve was still there, as he talked on the phone, suited Steve just fine. More than fine.

And yeah, okay, maybe Steve swooned a bit when Eddie started twirling the cord of the phone, so much like a lovey-dovey teenage girl that Steve nearly laughed aloud. He wasn’t sure if Eddie even realised he was doing it. Just leant up against the wall, stealing glances at Steve — his fingers fiddling with the cord til they began looping it over and over.

Steve wouldn’t though— laugh at Eddie, that is. It feels pretty much impossible to do anything except sit with all his giddiness, just knowing that… his feelings for Eddie are mutual.

That Eddie hadn’t regretted the kisses in the slightest. That Eddie had wanted Steve for just as long.

It’s achingly sweet to look back on that first hug Steve had asked for — knowing they had both been toeing the line, trying desperately to keep their pining to themselves. Idiots, Steve scoffs to himself affectionately, they were both idiots.

Rerunning the memory of his hasty exit last night is less of a breezy memory. Steve doesn’t want to think too hard about what malicious ideas Eddie’s brain might have spun up to taunt himself.

He must’ve thought that Steve had left for entirely worse reasons. That the reason Steve hadn’t been able to look at him because he thought Eddie was… that he regretted… Steve shakes his head. None of those thoughts are pretty.

And, more importantly, they were untrue. Steve very much liked those kisses. His only regret that night was leaving the way he did. Honest, Steve would have more kisses if he could.

Something scorches across his heart delightfully because he can have more kisses — he just has to ask.

“Okay, thank you so much,” Eddie says appreciatively into the receiver. He dashes another look over at Steve, an apology in the form of his sorry grimace. He focuses back on the phone. “Yeah, I’ll be in tomorrow to see the damage. Thanks, again.”

He sets the phone back in the cradle and for a moment, Steve can’t see his face. Can’t see any of the nervous contemplation. Eddie finally seems to grasp his courage and spins, fixing Steve with a smile.

“Um,” He says, a nervous chuckle leaking through. Eddie moves closer but he moves all skittish, one of his sneakers catching on nothing. He stumbles just a bit, taking a quick seat on the couch arm beside Steve.

“Wh—“ Eddie starts to say. He huffs another nervous chuckle, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “This might be a stupid question but what… now?”

Steve thinks for a moment. He’s considering how to go about this when Eddie blurts out in a hopeful tone— “More kissing?”

There’s an unspoken please. Steve revels in the blush that follows the words.

He smirks up at Eddie, eyes tracing the bloom of pink on his cheeks. “What? On the couch, like I’m some common whore?”

“You seemed to have no problem with it last time, my liege.” Eddie points out dramatically, all with a grin.

“And I have no intention of repeating last time.” Steve counters. Then frowns.

“Well, except for the good part.” He corrects himself. “The first part! Just- Christ, can we go to your room instead, please?”

Eddie’s on his feet in an instant. He brings his hand up to his forehead and gives a salute with enough force to rip his arm off. Then marches down the hall and disappears into his room without waiting for Steve.

Steve thinks the nerves might be getting to him.

He walks the steps he’s walked a hundred times before, crossing into Eddie’s room and pressing the door shut behind him.

Eddie’s sat on the bed, criss-cross apple sauce style. He’s kicked his sneakers off — one’s by Steve’s foot, the other on the other side of the room.

Steve swallows and toes off his own shoes. He approaches the bed, climbing on gingerly and folding his limbs to match Eddie. That familiar swoop of nerves sits oh-so present in the pit of his stomach. Steve tries to think of it as a good thing — it’s good to have something so good that he’s nervous in his excitement.

For a moment, they just sit. Staring at one another. One of Eddie’s fingers is digging into the rips of his jeans, toying with the loose strands. It gives away his restless energy.

Steve waits. He asked last time and he knows — he knows Eddie wants to kiss him. But a small part of him…

“Why is this so hard?” Eddie blurts out all of a sudden. Like before, the words seem like they’ve come out without Eddie realising, but he barrels on. “Shit, I’m so fucking nervous. You make me so nervous, Steve.”

Eddie’s eyes won’t settle. They dart around. Move from Steve’s eyes to his lips, down, to the bed sheet beneath them. Like he still isn’t sure if he’s truly allowed to look. His admission makes Steve sorta wanna roll over and scream into the pillow. In a good way.

“I’m— Me too," Steve admits, a smile curling at his lips. “The- fuck, the way I feel about you honestly scares me shitless.”

Eddie seems to be both chuffed and relieved at his words.

“But I… want to kiss you,” Steve says assuredly. The next sentence he poses as a question, words a little more hesitant. More nervous. “And… and you want to kiss me?”

Across the bed, Eddie grabs a piece of his hair, twisting it nervously as he pulls it to cover his face. His usual nervous tell. Steve can’t help how he breaks into a grin when Eddie nods fervently.

“Cool.” Steve breathes. Then mentally smacks himself for saying cool. He tries to recover but Eddie beats him to it, with a question of his own. “Can I kiss you now?”

Steve answers by shuffling closer, til their knees are touching and then — like beside the road earlier — mimics the touch Eddie had given him.

Hands on either side of Eddie’s face, gentle as they curl under his jaw. Steve can feel the curls of his hair tickling at his fingertips. Another inch forward and he’d be burying his hands in Eddie’s hair. Steve bookmarks that urge for later.

Eddie looks nervous. Steve is undoubtedly making it worse, taking his time like this. But he can’t help it.

He wants to look — wants to stare, wants to devour every detail of Eddie’s face. Commit it to memory so he can picture it with his eyelids closed. What Eddie Munson looks like while waiting for a kiss.

The amount of affection that swells in Steve’s chest hits like a sucker-punch, enough he sucks in a tiny breath. He can see the smallest quiver in Eddie’s lip.

“You gonna stare all day, Harrington?” Eddie teases, but it lacks conviction when the words wobble a bit.

“Just enjoying the view,” Steve remarks, and then, finally, he kisses Eddie.

It’s the floodgate. It’s a frenzy, kiss after kiss after kiss, the softness of them slipping away in lieu of making up for missed time. Steve kisses every apology onto Eddie’s lips and he receives forgiveness a dozen times back. It’s bliss.

Eddie’s a very enthusiastic partner, to say the least. He’s a little messier with his kisses, hands gripping the front of Steve’s shirt tightly, pressing forward in a way that pushes Steve back— but Steve certainly doesn’t mind. He removes his hands from Eddie’s face to lower himself back, elbows against the comforter as Eddie follows eagerly.

For a moment, a sprout of doubt pulls them apart. Eddie hovers, not getting too close. “This is… this is okay?”

Steve grabs him by the collar and tugs him down, meeting him in the middle for another kiss. It’s a fat unanimous yes. Something glows hot in his chest when Eddie smiles into the kiss. Grins even. In fact, he has to take a moment to cheese it out, his face tucked into hiding against the crook of Steve’s neck.

Steve doesn’t mind. His hand strokes idly over Eddie’s hair, twisting in with the curls. He lets him take his time, lets Eddie work back up the nerve to kiss him again, except— with a gasp, Steve squirms at the sudden kiss on his neck, hot and soft.

“I think you were the one overdue for a hickie,” Steve breathes, hands threading through Eddie’s hair gently. He doesn’t pull him away though; lets Eddie figure out the best way to scrape his teeth against Steve’s skin as best he likes.

“Uh huh,” Eddie murmurs, barely heard. He’s too distracted.

“Eddie,” Steve tries, but it comes out far too close to a sigh. He tries again, this time with a proper tug to pull Eddie back from him.

It’s a bit of leftover King Steve the way he manoeuvres the both of them, rolling deftly so it’s Eddie upon his back and Steve hovering above him. Eddie manages to look both impressed and disgruntled at once.

Steve doesn’t let him get a word out. The pale stretch of skin down Eddie’s neck has been calling his name for too long and Steve is hungry for it. He grants Eddie one, two, three more kisses on his lips before he’s moving down.

He’s just getting started, lips pressed to hot skin when it happens. Eddie’s hands move up, skirting barely up and under Steve’s shirt, fingers searching. The unpleasant aversion prickles under Steve’s skin.

He locks up. He’s unable to do anything but; it feels helpless even as he tries to shake it off but he knows, he knows Eddie can feel it as he grows rigid under the touch.

It’s worse when Eddie tries to reel his touch back in. Steve wants to cry with frustration because it’s not Eddie— it’s fucking him.

“Don’t,” Steve pleads, his hand diving down to catch Eddie’s wrist and holding it there. He knows Eddie’s watching him closely, even as Steve’s eyes scrunch shut and he fights to fend off the uncomfortable feeling attempting to make home under his skin.

“It’s…” Steve wills himself to look Eddie in the eye, hoping the sincerity bleeds through his words. “It’s not you, Eds. Just— fuck, just… give me a second, okay?”

He releases Eddie’s wrist. Eddie nods, a minuscule motion. His brown eyes are watching Steve closely, darting all over his face wildly and after a moment, they still on his lips. Eddie makes a decision and pushes forward, planting a tender kiss on the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“S’okay,” He assures. Then gives Steve another kiss, this time on the lips, slow and sweet. Steve drinks it in, tries to savour the feeling of being kissed by someone who wants him. Wants him in every way they can have him. It's maddening.

Eddie’s hand moves an inch cautiously, testing the waters as his fingertips trace the skin of Steve’s tummy. He doesn’t flinch when Steve stiffens up again.

Like he can sense the frustration building up in the other boy, he captures Steve’s lips with his gently. Whispers against them again as soothingly as he can. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

It’s like the words run across the raised hackles of Steve’s soul, soothing and seeping out the tension from every muscle. Steve can feel himself relax under the words. Feels something inside him wobble and then tip over, finally soothed, finally settled.

This time when Eddie’s hand grazes along his waist, Steve shivers in a good way— and leans in closer, kissing back. His hands clutch back at Eddie’s hair, raking through to grip it sweetly. He tugs, jerking Eddie’s chin up and exposing his throat.

“Can I…” Steve begins. It’s a tease.

“Shut up,” Eddie grinds out, hands fixed on Steve’s waist. Now he knows he can touch, that Steve isn’t tensing up or flinching away, his hands are rabid. Hungry. They crawl across the skin, leaving hot scorch marks behind that tingle delightfully. “This hickie is so overdue.”

Steve grins wolfishly.

Eddie’s neck is a thorough shade of violet by the time he’s done, chest heaving. He looks devilishly handsome when Steve pulls back to admire his work and he barely gets a moment before Eddie’s back on him, lips hot against Steve’s own.

“My go.”

This time when Steve’s getting ready to leave, he half-heartedly pulls on his shoes. It’s a pitiful attempt to slow down the inevitable. He can’t believe leaving is harder this time; maybe it’s more to do with the hickies adoring his own neck and collarbones.

“Hey, I-“ Steve starts, already feeling flush in the face. Eddie’s watching him pack his stuff up, still pink in the face, but so evidently content with himself. He’s laid back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head. He’s showing off the dark lovebites on his skin, neck craned proudly.

“Mm?” Eddie hums, a cheeky smile on his face.

“When I— Robin.” Steve says, flashing a hand to his neck. “She’s- she’s probably gonna ask.”

Steve swallows. He somehow gets the feeling Eddie already knows what he’s going to ask — that he’s waiting for him to say it. Eddie’s grin says as much.

“And when she does, I—“ Steve continues, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. The kisses on it tingle beneath his own touch. “Can I… call you my boyfriend?”

Eddie glows. It’s the only word for the excited laugh that punches out of him, like a gleeful goblin.

Steve thinks he might just be falling all over again when Eddie rolls over and buries his face in his pillow. He pretends for Eddie’s sake not to hear his muffled shout that’s almost a squeal. His cheeks are ruby red by the time he sticks his face back out, his grin so wide it makes his eyes crinkle in the corner.

“Yes,” Eddie says, voice giddy. “Yes, please.”

And Steve’s so fucking glad he asked for that stupid hug way back when, because got a gremlin-level of affectionate boyfriend now to show for it.

and that's likely a wrap on the can i series for now ! i had an inkling of an idea for future but tbh i wasn't supposed to write this i like have 7 other fics callin my name. but alas! thank u so very much for the love on this, whether sending kisses to my touch starved self or talking bout needing a hug too in the tags <3 hopefully this heals all the right places <3 mwah my loves

tags below:

@original-cypher @maya-custodios-dionach @uwujinniee @attic-cat-blog @immortal-iratze @anaibis @orangeandthefairroadkill @etaka @silversnaffles @invisibleflame812 @eddie-hero-munson @jesskier @princess-eddie @impeachy @estrellami-1 @bloomingconflagration @newtstabber @iwouldsail @sundead @darksmistress @sydstroons @leethegay @superchellerific @eddielives1986 @jinxjinn @breealtair @steddieassheg0es @loopholesinmydreams @savory-babby @alittlegreyfish @izzy2210 @em9515 @killjoy-patrixtump @mrspasser @spectrum-spectre

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countcvnt · 2 months

Text

Experiment

Chapter Four: Stamina

[Poly!TF 141 x Fem!Reader]

[Ch. Three] [Ch. Five]

Summary: After a couple days of rest, you realize just how much stamina you have. You train with boys to get some energy out. Warnings: Descriptions of broken bones, mentions of blood, slight suggestive language Word Count: 3.3k A/N: This chapter isn't as sad. Next chapter will have light smut! I got the idea of the chapter link thing from @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries so thanks Ikea!! Hope it's alright tag you just for that lmao. Also I just learned how to do the side by side gifs yay!!

It’s been a couple days since your nap… Since your realization. Simon has only been more distant. You’re sitting in the training area, alone, when Soap and Gaz walk in.

"We got ye this!” Soap extends his hand. “It’s a radio!” You look up at him with confusion. “I ken it isnae a phone…”

“Hey,” You grab it, “it’s better than nothing. Now I can bother all of you all the time!”

“Actin’ more and more like yerself!” Soap hits you on the back. It catches you off guard how hard he hit you. You are fine, you aren’t going to bruise, but you can’t help but wonder if he’d always nudged or hit you so hard. “How come yer here by yerself?”

You shrug. “Simon was supposed to meet me here. Do some training. Guess he skipped out on me.”

Soap lights up. “I can help ye!” He seems excited.

“We both can, actually.” Gaz interjects.

You nod, lighting up. “Okay! I’d like that. I’ll be sure to go easy on the both of you.” You smile at them as you stand up. You already stretched earlier, ten minutes before Simon was supposed to come in. So, instead of doing that, you walk to the middle of the room and stand there, eagerly awaiting Soap and Gaz.

“Now,” Soap puts a hand up, “don’ think ye have to go easy on us.”

Gaz makes a face, “You haven’t seen her strength yet, have you?”

You laugh. “I’ll hold back a little bit…” You reassure him. “But, I don’t want either of you to hold back. I promise, I can take it. Trust me.”

You take a fighting stance, ready for them to come at you. Gaz and Soap look at each other. Gaz gives a gentle nod to Soap, one you assume you were not supposed to catch, and Soap takes off towards you. You plant your feet and prepare yourself for Soap hitting you. His rough hands grab you, and the both of you grapple for a moment. Your arms get free and instinctively wrap around Soap’s ribcage, and get behind him at a speed he was unsure was possible.

You easily bring him up and over you, suplexing him into the mat below you. You stand up straight and look down at Soap. He groans, the air has been knocked out of him. You smile at him and he motions for Gaz to move.

“Yer suppose’ to ger ‘er now.”

Gaz looks at you funny. “I don’t think I want to be thrown like that.”

“It’s kinda hot, actually,” Soap smiles at you once he seems to be breathing properly again. Your face heats up. You look at Soap with wide eyes. He sits up and rubs the back of his neck. “What did they give ye?”

You, still hung up on the ‘hot’ thing, shrug. “I dunno.” Your mind is racing. You need to do something other than rest or eat. You want to throw Soap around some more, but you can’t stop thinking about his comment.

“Look,” Gaz motions towards you, looking at Soap. “She’s in shock. Ya told her that was hot, and now she’s in shock.”

“Same old bonnie,” Soap stands up and smiles at you.

“Uh, that was very cathartic…” You shift your weight, “can we continue this… 'training’?”

“Cathartic? Throwing him around eased your mind?” Gaz looks at you with wide eyes.

You nod at him. “Yeah, I think it’d also be fun if you both ran at me!” You smile wide.

“Yer outnumbered,” Soap places a hand on your shoulder, “that isn’ fair.”

You cross your arms. “Johnny,” You narrow your eyes at him. “They wanted to test my reflexes before you got me out of there. They improved a lot more than my strength, I just wanna test something out…”

The both of them look at each other. “If ya say so.” Gaz responds.

You excitedly nod back and get in your fighting stance once more. “Remember,” You point at them, “do not go easy on me! Please.” You smile at them. You want to know what you’re capable of.

Gaz and Soap don’t say a word. Instead, Gaz runs at you. It's your turn to grapple with him. While you’re fighting with Gaz, you can feel Soap running at you. You tense and throw Gaz to the floor and immediately direct your attention onto Soap. His arms wrap around your waist and you're sent sailing over him. He effortlessly suplexes you into the mat and you groan.

Soap and Gaz are both standing over you, looking down at you and smiling. “Was that payback?” You ask, catching your breath.

“We’re even now.” Soap puts his hand out towards you.

You don’t hesitate to grab it. Soap easily pulls you up and Gaz steadies you as you stand. As you’re thanking them, the doors of the training room opens. The three of you turn towards the door and you perk up.

“You’re finally here!” Your eyes hit Simon’s.

“What do you mean? ‘Finally’?” He looks at the clock on the wall. “I said 12:30… it’s now 12:29.”

“Oh, I thought you said 1200…” You feel embarrassed now.

“You’ve been here since then, waiting?”

“She’s been throwin’ us around.” Gaz rubs the back of his neck.

Simon approaches you and looks down at you, “Good, you’ve been warming up.”

Your stomach flips at how he says that. His tone… He has not come to just mess around, you already know that much. He walks past you and towards the end of the mat. Soap, Gaz, and you stare at him. He motions for Soap and Gaz to move, and they do. You blink at him. You quickly take your ass to the other end of the mat and wait for Simon’s next move.

Simon does not say a word. Instead, he rushes you. He easily grabs you, turns you around, and is holding you close to him, his arms keeping you from moving. You let you an awkward laugh, “What the fuck?” Simon doesn’t say a word. Instead he shoves you forward. You do not miss a step. You turn back to him and rush towards him.

“Suplex him!” Gaz shouts from the sidelines. Him and Soap seem just as curious as you about your strength.

You can’t help but wonder if you could… You want to try it. Simon is a big boy, and you want to test your new found strength. The both of you circle each other and your fingers are wiggling, you’re looking for an opening. You end up moving faster than Simon can register. You wind up behind him and grab his waist.

Simon does not let you get further than that. His elbow rears back, and you realize you are at just the right angle to get hit just a tad too late. Simon’s elbow slams into your face, harder than he had expected it to, and a loud pop echoes through the training room. You let go of him immediately. You fall to the floor, warmth covering your face. You let out a low, primal growl ready to fucking obliterate Simon. You want to maul him. Something in you is about to snap. Until suddenly his words replay in your head. ‘I trust you.’

Simon would never intentionally hurt you. And when you look up at Simon, his eyes tell you he truly did not mean to hit you so hard. Your eyes cut towards Soap and Gaz, who are watching you with anticipation.

You inhale sharply through your mouth and snap your nose back into place, stopping the bleeding pretty quickly. You sit up and Ghost puts his hand towards you. “Come on,” He sounds like he’s trying to keep himself calm. “You need to go to the med bay.”

Your bloody hand reaches for him and you grab it. You, in the spur of the moment, decide now would be a good time to take advantage of the situation and as you pull yourself up, kick your leg out. It slams into Simon’s shin and he’s doubling over. You slam your body into his and slide across the mat. You straddle Simon and you're holding him down. You’re breathing heavily and watching him.

The look in his eyes tells you he had not expected that. “Don’t let your guard down.” You heave out, a dull pain pulsating through your nose.

Simon sits there a moment. You move to get up and look at Soap and Gaz, who are watching with wide eyes. As you stand, a hand grabs you and you’re flipped. Your back slams into the floor and the wind is knocked out of you. You gasp. Your eyes shoot open and Simon is crouching above you, his large, rough hand wrapped around your throat. You watch him, unblinking. Not breathing.

Simon lowers himself to your level. His eyes stay on yours. You swallow hard and inhale shakily as his lips hover over your ear. “Don’t let your guard down.” He whispers in your ear. He stands up and walks off from you. “Get her to the med bay.”

You lie on the floor. The door opens and closes as Simon leaves. You, still laying down, look over at Soap and Gaz. You try to process everything that just happened. They rush over to you and Gaz crouches beside you. You look at him, eyes still wide, brain still processing. Neither of them seem to have expected that.

“Gaz,” Soap looks off towards the door, “I’m gonna check on Ghost…”

“Okay, I’ll get her checked out.” Gaz nods at Soap. He places a hand on your shoulder and you sit up. Gaz helps you stand and you look at all the blood on the ground and your hands. You know it’s covering your face. “Come on, love, let’s go.”

You're sitting in an exam room, mostly cleaned up. You look at the monitor across the room from you, your eyes stuck on it. The IV pole is beside it. “Are they gonna hook me up?” You ask Gaz, your eyes not leaving the monitor.

“No, love,” Gaz grips your shoulder. “You just broke your nose. They have no need to hook you up to that.”

The doctor walks in as he finishes his sentence. She's a woman. You feel yourself relaxing a little bit. Her lab coat isn't doing you any favors though. All medical coats must be the same, all you can think about is the facility. You exhale slowly and grab Gaz’s hand. He gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I'm Doctor Johnson, I'll be checking on you, okay?” You can't tell if she used to know you or not. You nod at her. “What happened?”

“Well, I assume it all started when I was taken–”

“No, not that far back,” Gaz smiles at you.

“Oh, my bad.” You look at the doctor. “I was training with Lt. Ghost and we got a little too rough. Thankfully, I don't get hurt like normal people.” You say, kicking your feet off of the side of the exam bed.

Her face contorts. “Okay–” She drags out the word. “Is that from your…” She pauses. She knows. You nod. “Okay, Price should have brought you to me sooner.” She looks at Gaz and back at you. “Is it okay if he's in here?”

“Of course! I actually prefer it… him staying.”

Dr. Johnson nods. “That's fine, just wanna make sure.” She smiles at you softly. “Can I check your nose?” When you say yes, she approaches you. Her gloved hands gently touch the bridge of your nose. You don't flinch at her touches. She gently pushes it and it pops. Again, you don't flinch. “You can't feel that?”

“I mean, I know you're touching me. But it doesn't hurt, no.” You shake your head.

She hums. She checks inside and then looks at you. “Your nose, you broke it before.” She states it as fact. She knows you have.

“Well, actually, yes. At the facility, they broke it. They hit me with the butt of an assault rifle.”

Gaz’s drop on your hand tightens. You can see his whole body tense, his Adam's apple bobs. You say it so nonchalantly. He doesn't like it.

The doctor swallows hard. She seems stunned. She quickly gathers her thoughts and inhales through her nose. “May I ask what tests they ran on you?”

“Yes you may,” you reply sweetly. “But I can't tell you what they were. They never told me. I just know I'm quite literally built to take those types of blows and then some.”

“We could help you figure it out.” She suggests it. She isn't pushing you.

“No.” It's the first thing that comes from your mouth. “I'm already stressed enough sitting right here in front of you. I will not be hooked up to monitors, or poked with needles.” You stand your ground.

“It's okay,” Gaz calms you down. “We don't have to do that. Not right now.”

The doctor purses her lips, looking at Gaz. “It'd be good to know those things. It could help you.” She sounds so calming, genuinely trying to keep you from freaking out.

You do want to know what's up with you. But you don't want to put yourself in distress just to figure it out. You sigh. “Not right now.” You shake your head. “I need time to think about it.”

She nods at you. “That's fine. Your nose is completely fine. You're free to leave, if you'd like.”

You have never gotten up so fast in your life. You drag Gaz out of the room with you. He doesn't stumble once, but he does wince, causing you to realize how tightly you're holding onto him. You mumble an apology and let him go once you're out of the exam room. You stop in the hall and take everything in. The lights are bright and everything smells so… sterile. It's almost haunting.

“We can get out of here.”

“That sounds good.” The both of you begin to leave. “Do you wanna train again?” You ask him, cocking your head.

Gaz makes a gutteral noise, laughing. “After all that, you still wanna train?”

“Yes, it was nice. It was… relieving my stress. I still have a bunch of pent up energy.”

“We'll find you something to take that out on.” He leads you out of the med bay.

“After sleeping the last couple of nights, I've never felt better I don't think. I must have stamina for days. I feel like I could go at it forever.”

“Oh?” Gaz looks over his shoulder at you. “Forever? And what are you going at exactly?” His brow cocks.

Your face heats up. “Not like– That's not– In a sense–” You stumble on your words. “Fuck.” You want to bury your head in your hands.

“Oh, fuck?” Gaz smirks at you. “Really? I didn't know you were like that.” He nudges you with his elbow.

“Kyle, I'm going to die. I think I'm literally going to pass away.” You look at him with a pout.

“Sorry, love, you aren't getting out that easy. I think I have an idea on how to get your energy out though. We could always try the gym, or the track? There's a new recruit who beat the best time and I think– I know you can beat him.” He turns and grabs your shoulders. “I think it'd be really funny if you beat him.”

You smirk at him. “I'm an enhanced individual now. And you want me to beat some poor rookie’s best time on the track? You want me to destroy him?”

“Yes. Gotta keep the new guys in check. Plus, we can check that stamina of yours.”

You smile, “Okay!” You put a finger up, “But, I'm not doing it to pumble some guy's record. I'm doing it because I'm testing myself.”

“Hey, that's fine with me.” Gaz grabs your hand again. “Come on!”

You let out a laugh as Gaz drags you outside and towards the track. When you get outside there are several people stretching, getting ready to run. Most of them are men.

“Hey,” you look at Gaz, “do you think they'll be emotionally distraught if I outrun them?”

You sure hope so.

“Only one to find out.”

Gaz walks over to the track with you. You approach the group and they all look at you. Your grip tightens on Gaz’s hand and you smile awkwardly at them. Most of the people are new recruits. You are positive they don't know about your… predicament. You introduce yourself as Ace.

“Just came to run a little bit, burn some energy!” You release Gaz’s hand.

They don't seem to think much about it. You walk towards the track and ready yourself. The sergeant at the sidelines readies the group and you examine them. You're trying to pick out the fastest one. The one you want to beat. Or one Gaz wants you to beat.

“Three–”

Everyone is getting ready to run. You look at Gaz.

“Two–”

He motions towards a tall, slender man. You lock on.

“One!”

You take off. All of you take off. You know you're supposed to pace yourself when running. You watch everyone doing that, except one person. The one Gaz pointed out to you. You can feel Gaz watching you. You have an urge to show off for him. The urge to impress him is suddenly very strong. You don't fight it.

You take off. Your legs push you forward and quickly run by the man. You give him a smile as you run by him. He doesn't falter. He picks up his speed. So you do the same.

Before you know it you are speeding around the track. The man left in the dust. You reach the end of the mile and smile at Gaz. He's the only one you see. You don't notice everyone stopped and staring. The sergeant clicks his timer.

“Ace,” the sergeant waves you over. “You just beat the fastest time by three minutes…”

“What. The. Fuck!?” A scream echoes from behind you. “How did you do that?”

“Peter, calm down.”

“What the fuck,” He repeats himself, quieter this time. “That’s not possible… I did track for years! And you come up here out of nowhere–” His hands are in his hair. His eye on the ground.

Oh, he’s mad. You watch him closely. Gaz steps in between you and Peter. You feel butterflies in your stomach as he does that. Peter looks distraught.

“How did you do that?”

You aren't sure how much you can tell him. So you shrug.

“You don't know?” His eyes widened. “Did you do track at all? Have you ever even run in your life? You aren't even out of breath!”

“I don't know–”

“What does that mean?! You don't know? How does someone not know that?”

He's so fragile. He storms off. You look at Gaz and he turns his head towards you.

“Did I do okay?” You can't help but ask.

“Okay?” He asks you. “Love, that was amazing! You set a new record!”

“I wasn't even doing the best I could–” Your face is hot.

Gaz pulls you into a hug. He's proud of you. You don't immediately hug back, causing Gaz to pull away. You pull him back to you, keeping from crushing him. The last time you hugged one of them —intentionally— was when you hugged Simon two days ago. You hadn't realized how much you needed physical contact since then.

Gaz hugs back, his hand rubbing your back. It seems to be just as therapeutic for him.

“Okay,” the sergeant speaks up, “how did you do that?”

Gaz pulls away from you, and you look at the sergeant. You shrug. “I'm just that good, I guess.”

The sergeant narrows his eyes. He doesn't get a chance to say anything about it before your new radio goes off.

“Ace,” Price comes over the radio. “meet me at the barracks immediately, over.”

You groan. “Copy, over.”

He knows something. You grab Gaz's hand and begin back towards base. Gaz doesn't argue with you taking him with you. He does seem confused. But he holds your hand with no complaints, following you to the barracks.

Taglist:

@moonyinthestars @dory-98 @otto-s-alskling @aeilani @klutzy-kay24 @sher-ni @infpt-zylith @eustassh @kaoyamamegami @zoexme @reap3erslov3 @fruitymoonbeams-blog @cosmic-rich @bvxygriimes @waiting-so-long @mill7531

(tags are being weird again, i'm sorry if it didn't let me tag you... also think that's everyone? If i forgot you, just let me know I'll be sure to add you next chapter! I'm sorry im very forgetful and my list fills.. like it's missing someone)

#gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john price x reader #john price #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #poly!tf 141 #cod mw2

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