#oc: ember | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

underdark-dreams · 5 months

Text

A gift fic for @catsharky featuring their beautiful bard Tav, Ember! Fueled by catsharky's mind and by the amazing art of Ember & blushy Rolan trapped in a closet 😳

Pent Up

"How long has it been?" As the new Master of Ramazith's Tower, Rolan finds himself short on personal time. Then he finds himself trapped up against the bard.

Tags: Trapped in a Closet, Tails, Touch-Starved, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 4,383 [Read on AO3]

For all its wonders, Ramazith’s Tower offered a staggering lack of privacy.

Perhaps few wizards had families; Rolan couldn’t think of another good reason why such a palace would have only one decent bedroom within its walls.

It hadn’t seemed like a hindrance the first days Cal and Lia moved in. They’d managed to find their alone time on the road from Elturel where privacy was nonexistent, hadn’t they?

After four weeks of Cal’s snoring and Lia’s constant tossing and turning in their beds beside his, Rolan felt like a bowstring ready to snap. Between the shared quarters and all of the newly inherited duties of managing Sorcerous Sundries, let alone cataloging the Tower itself, Rolan found himself…well. Out of time for his own needs.

More bluntly, if Rolan didn’t get himself off in the next tenday, he feared he might actually burn down a wing of his brand new library from sheer sexual frustration. The thought didn’t even embarrass him at this point—that’s how absolutely desperate he’d grown.

And of course the dreams weren’t helping.

That made Rolan’s focus falter for a moment, and the books he was levitating to the floor above slammed into their shelf with far too much force. He cursed under his breath and concentrated fresh on the next stack of tomes beside him.

Of all the people for his subconscious to latch onto, why, why did it have to be Ember? He respected her and valued her friendship more than just about anyone’s. He looked forward to every moment he got to spend in her company, in fact.

Yet lately, Rolan’s sleeping mind conjured up scenarios where he took her in every position on every surface imaginable.

Pressed into silky sheets—bent in half over his desk—on her hands and knees on the carpet, the wood floor, his own bed, Ember’s fists gripping the bedding beneath her as he—

“Hope you’ve got a good spot to hide up here!”

Rolan heard the jingle of bells behind him before he’d even turned from his work. Her voice sent a pang of mortification through him, as if she too might have glimpsed those images flashing through his mind’s eye.

Ember was dashing toward him from the Tower portal, still dressed in one of her stage costumes. She was barefoot save for a ring of little bells around each ankle, and her tail swung wildly behind her for balance as she ran into the room.

“What in the hells—” Rolan began, this time failing the final gesture of his spell. The tomes that he was carefully guiding upward lurched and crashed against the polished wood, toppling back down several floors. Rolan ducked aside just in time as they landed with a sharp thump at his feet.

“Explain,” he demanded curtly, knowing whatever story the bard had would be outlandish.

“That Aradin, remember?” Ember pulled up in front of him, clutching a stitch in her side. “Stupid bounty hunter? His crew’s downstairs. They seem very put out that he’s dead,” she added, letting out a breathless laugh.

Rolan failed to see the humor. “You mean you led them here? From wherever you were doing your—”

He tried and failed to find the right word, instead waving a hand around her figure. Ember’s attire revealed a strip of bare skin from her neck to her navel, and that sight had scattered Rolan’s thoughts around his skull like marbles.

“The Elfsong,” Ember supplied, not acknowledging his sudden fluster. “They didn’t recognize my stage disguise, but I overheard them planning to come here and shake you down for what’s owed them. You’re welcome for the head start,” she added, propping a fist on her hip.

Rolan tried to ignore the attitude as he bent to pick up his damaged books in a huff. “They do know Lorroakan’s dead too, correct? Whatever contract they had with him was never any of my business.”

Ember spread her arms wide in impatience. “I know that, Rolan, but they’re fucking idiots!”

“Let’s just call Aylin to stomp them to death,” Rolan muttered savagely, not altogether joking.

Rolan had fended off Aradin’s rude threats for his entire apprenticeship, and now that he was Master of the Tower himself, he was in no mood for more of that lot barging in and demanding things. After watching the aasimar dispatch Lorroakan, Rolan suspected that Dame Aylin would share the feeling.

“Nice idea,” Ember allowed, “but unless you’d like blood on your new carpets, I suggest we make ourselves scarce. Like now. You know you’ve still got a portal down there practically labeled ‘Real Nightsong Hunters This Way’?”

This brought Rolan up short with a curse; Ember had a terribly good point there. He could kick himself for not having the sense to fix that glaring security risk before now.

Considering the slew of Gazette articles speculating wildly about how Ramazith’s Tower had fallen into his hands, perhaps it was wise not to add any other deaths to his first month as Master.

When he straightened, Ember was already casting around the cavernous interior for a suitable hiding spot. “There,” she pointed up suddenly.

Apparently done trying to urge him on with words, Ember’s fingers clasped over his, and the next thing Rolan knew she was dragging him bodily up the staircase. The books under his arm tumbled again to the floor.

Through his surprise, Rolan felt something wet between their palms. He glanced to find that her hand was spattered with blood.

“Did they hurt you?” Suddenly furious, Rolan nearly stumbled on a stair behind her. A handful of defensive spells sprang white-hot into his mind.

“Oh, no—” Ember dismissed the idea. “It’s not mine.”

That only raised more questions, but there was no chance to form them as she yanked him onto the open landing. When Ember made a beeline toward the narrow door between two ornate shelves, Rolan tried to object. “That’s only a—”

Ember threw the door open and practically shoved him inside.

“—closet,” Rolan finished deadpan, even as the bard jostled in behind him, swinging the door to its latch behind her. The space was comically small with two people.

Or it would have been comical with someone else.

Instead, Rolan found himself suddenly pressed up far closer to Ember than he ever had been outside his own mind. Standing chest-to-chest, he was painfully aware of every spot where their limbs brushed together—especially when her hand accidentally swung against the robes at his thigh.

It finally made her pick up on the tension radiating around him. Ember cleared her throat, although her eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

“No,” was all Rolan had time to say before the whirling sound of the portal below traveled up to their ears. The two of them froze still. Ember's eyes on his face went wide, as if it might help her hear behind her better.

Over Ember’s shoulder, Rolan could only see a thin vertical sliver of the lower dais through the crack in the closet door, but it was just enough.

Into the room shuffled two men, one dark and one fair. Rolan indeed thought he recognized them from Aradin’s crew back at the Grove. They moved warily across the central floor with hands near their weapons, as if expecting an ambush. When the blonde-haired man turned slightly, Rolan glimpsed two fresh streaks of blood running from his nostrils.

Almost as if someone with quick reflexes had jammed the heel of their hand against his nose in a defensive move, bloodying their palm in the process.

“I see,” Rolan whispered, partly to himself. “Any chance you instigated this whole thing?”

“He deserved it,” Ember whispered back with vehemence. “He called you a—”

Their eyes met for a second, and just as Rolan’s heart began to pound at how close her face was, she glanced away.

“Let’s just say he had Aradin’s vocabulary,” Ember finished.

So she had bloodied a man’s nose to defend his honor? He should find it absurd, but at this moment, all Rolan could think was how pretty Ember looked with her jaw set in righteous indignation like that.

“I’m flattered,” Rolan told her, only half-joking. He glanced back through the crack in the door, partly to distract himself from her again.

The two thugs had quickly given up any pretense of stealth in favor of searching the premises. Their unguarded footsteps were enough to track them, and after a short verbal exchange those heavy treads spread out to explore the floor below—far from Rolan and Ember’s hiding place.

“What if they steal something?” Ember whispered suddenly.

Of all Rolan’s concerns right now, that was by far the least pressing. “The stuff they’re looking for is all down in the vault. But I’d love to see them try, this place has enough defensive enchantments to flatten a troll, some my own magic. They’ll get knocked out if they so much as crack open a book. Though I doubt they can read,” Rolan added.

That made Ember laugh, a breathy and quiet sound—Rolan felt it against his cheek and hoped she wouldn’t notice the way he swallowed hard at the sensation.

With the two intruders blundering about so loudly, it suddenly seemed like an unnecessary risk to keep the door cracked open to watch them. In one move Rolan reached around Ember’s arm for the doorknob, pulled it shut, and muttered a quick incantation. The lock glowed blue-white with a series of clicks, now magically secured from the inside.

It was a slight change, but it somehow made the cramped space feel far more intimate. The light streaming under the door was just enough for him to make out Ember’s face a mere foot from his own.

Shelves packed with broken baubles of unidentified usefulness lined the walls around them, muffling the sound in the small space, everything but their breathing. Ember was close enough that Rolan felt her every exhale tickle his cheek.

“Now I guess we wait,” she said.

Rolan nodded, then remembered she might not be able to see. “I suppose. Hopefully those idiots lose interest fast.”

“What about Cal and Lia?”

“They’re both at Alfira’s,” Rolan answered. Worry ran through him for a moment, but they wouldn’t be back for at least an hour. By any luck Aradin’s old crew would be long gone by then. Good gods, please. Rolan didn’t think he’d survive an hour in a confined space with Ember’s body brushing up against him without doing something immensely embarrassing.

There was another muffled pause as they both shifted on their feet. One of Ember’s bells gave a tiny jingle.

“So…what’s new with you?” Ember’s quiet voice shook with mirth. This whole situation was apparently all good fun for her.

Rolan found himself enjoying it for his own reasons, but not any he remotely wanted to admit. The slashing neckline in Ember’s shirt offered a very generous view of her chest from this angle, and it took most of his concentration not to stare. He shifted again in an effort to put more space between them—with little success.

“Nothing but the usual,” he told her, grasping at the distraction. “Organizing Lorroakan’s hoard of magical artifacts, putting the library in proper order. Preparing the Tower’s defenses for the army marching down on the city any day now.”

“Sounds stressful.” Ember frowned at him a bit. “Don’t you take any time for yourself? Have a little fun?”

“When exactly would I have a chance to do that,” Rolan laughed mirthlessly.

And that was precisely the problem, wasn’t it?

As though Rolan’s subconscious hadn’t taken over after enough inaction on his part. As though exactly four nights ago he hadn’t experienced a dream shockingly similar to their current scenario, one where dream-Ember had instead dropped to her knees with lovely lips parted to take him.

As though Rolan hadn’t jolted awake at midnight, sweaty and tangled in his bedsheets, hard cock in his own grip—

That alarming line of thought was interrupted when one of Aradin’s men called to the other. This time, the voice came from just a few meters outside the door.

Both of them froze at the sound. Rolan’s mind was actually distracted by the threat of a confrontation, though only for a moment.

Whether from nerves or something else, Ember’s frame shifted in closer against his. He thought he could almost feel the heavy beat of her heart through the muffled and dim space.

The motion notched their bodies together in a new way. With his next smallest of movements, Rolan felt one of her thighs nudging in between his legs.

No—no no no, not now—

Yet blood was already rushing south of his waist in a primal reaction to the contact. Rolan clamped down with all his mental training, willing his body not to do anything so humiliating while she was trapped up against him like this with potential danger just outside. He conjured up thoughts of death, and pain, and anything that might distract his touch-starved body from the destination it was already barrelling towards headlong. His tail tip flicked eagerly behind him, and he coiled it around his calf to hide his tell.

But she was so firm and warm against his groin, and despite his best efforts, Rolan felt himself stiffening against her under his robes.

Ember’s eyebrows rose silently. Rolan felt the hottest blush blooming all over his face in response.

“Ignore that,” Rolan whispered curtly. Looking at any part of her only made his face burn even more, but it was hard to find anywhere else to look in their close quarters.

Ember bit and released her lower lip. “That’s going to be hard,” she whispered back.

Her choice of words made him wish the floorboards would open up and swallow him. Gods, this was humiliating.

“Do you always get this excited from the thrill of danger?” Ember continued in a teasing whisper.

“Now’s not the time,” Rolan hissed at her, trying to ignore the way she had angled herself slightly against his side.

“Or maybe it’s the close quarters—”

“Hush—” Rolan was genuinely trying to listen, unsure whether the intruder had moved away or was close enough to hear their whispered exchange. He was in no state to concentrate on spellcasting at the moment.

As he strained his ears, one of his arms nervously bumped against Ember and actually grazed the soft curve of her breast. Her breath hitched against his ear.

Fucking hells. Rolan thought every bit of him could melt on the spot—all but the length between his legs, which was now hard as a rock against the side of Ember’s hip. Rolan tried to shrink back further against the shelving behind him, but there was nowhere left to go.

Ember certainly made no move to give him space. “Didn’t know you had it in you,” she whispered coyly. “Honestly, I’m flattered.”

“This isn’t because—” Of you, Rolan wanted to tell her. But that seemed rather insulting, not to mention a bald-faced lie. He let out a shaky breath. “I’ve…not had much time to myself lately, that’s all.”

“Oh,” she replied. Rolan could practically feel Ember’s eyes on the side of his face. “Oh.”

A pause followed in which Rolan stared up at the dark closet ceiling and wished to disappear. Outside, there was a more distant crash and a yelp—one of the idiots triggering an arcane trap, no doubt. He felt a twinge of satisfaction. They were the whole reason he was stuck in this predicament.

“How long has it been?”

Rolan glanced down at Ember, whose face was tilted toward him sincerely.

“A few weeks,” he mumbled, then looked away again. “Almost four.”

“Damn,” Ember whispered.

“Yes,” Rolan said stiffly, continuing to avoid her gaze as prickling heat climbed up his neck. “So if we could just—wait here quietly.”

Ember let out a low, thoughtful hum. Something about the sound made Rolan’s palms sweat where they hung at his sides.

“How quiet can you be?” She asked him.

It took Rolan several moments to catch her meaning. He blinked at her in shock, certain she must be trying to tease him again. “What do you—”

“Because we’re alone right now,” she interrupted. She spread her palms to each side, as far as the cramped walls allowed. “And you've got nowhere else to be at the moment, right?”

She was so close Rolan’s eyes had to flick back and forth between hers. “That’s insane,” Rolan said hoarsely.

“Is it?” Ember sounded quite serious, though she kept her tone to a whisper. “Listen, Rolan, you’re not subtle. I’ve noticed, everyone who cares about you has. You’ve been impatient, and snippy, and Lia said you keep forgetting projects in the middle to start new ones.”

“When did you talk to—”

She didn’t slow for his question, and Rolan felt her hand actually curl up over his shoulder. His skin glowed with heat under her touch.

“For your own sanity, you need to get off,” Ember finished.

“I’m not going to—while you’re standing right here,” Rolan choked out. His mouth refused to repeat the phrase.

Ember was so close that he actually saw the color travel up her cheeks. “Rolan, seriously…you’ve been staring down my shirt every ten seconds. And you’re practically impaling me with that thing in your pants.”

All Rolan could do was squeeze his eyes shut with a small groan of humiliation. “I’m sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry,” she told him, and with his eyes closed, he heard a new note in her voice. “I’m telling you I can help.”

As she spoke, a soft hand closed across Rolan’s mouth.

His eyes flew open in shock to find hers. Ember’s luminous blue-gold gaze looked at him from under her lashes, sending a wave of heat rippling and licking across the skin under his robes.

With heart pounding in his chest, Rolan connected the dots. She could help. She could keep him quiet.

As his breath panted faster under her hand, Ember tilted her body slightly against his. Before he could think, she moved her free arm as if to reach between his legs.

Rolan shook his head frantically. If she touched him there, this would all be over. Not to mention…some small part of his mind admitted…he wanted to feel Ember’s hands there for the first time under different circumstances. Some night when he could take his time with her on even footing.

She had withdrawn her hand immediately at his indication, resting it gently around on his back instead. It was almost a sweet gesture—until she used the leverage of her pressed palm to roll her hips very slightly over his trapped thigh.

The small motion slid his hardness against her side through layers of clothing, and the simple friction made him throb. Rolan moaned at the back of his throat and felt the vibration stopped up by her hand. His tail had uncurled from his leg to shudder and flick in excitement again, nearly knocking something glass off the shelf behind him. Desperate to keep quiet, Rolan wound his tail up Ember’s leg with the tip brushing against her thigh.

She bit one side of her lip in response. At that sight, had her fingers not been clasped firmly over his mouth, Rolan would have closed the distance to kiss her.

While he panted and wished, Ember’s hand trailed down the back of his robes with no particular goal in mind. But when her fingers met with bare skin at the base of his tail, Rolan jerked involuntarily as a strangled groan rose from his chest.

The fingers of her other hand clenched tighter over his mouth. Ember stared at him, eyes wide with surprise and something like delight.

The last working bit of Rolan’s brain recalled her upbringing among non-Tieflings. Was it possible—could she not realize what a very sensitive area that was?

She appeared to be getting the picture either way. Without moving her hand from his lips, she curled four fingers ever so lightly to cup around the base of his tail.

“Wait,” Rolan managed to gasp out against Ember’s hand, and she slid it down to his chin. His length throbbed painfully against his trousers, pressing obscenely into her thigh, yet she made no move to adjust positions.

But Ember did hesitate as she watched him. “Does that hurt?”

“No, hells—” Rolan shook his head in a daze. “Far…far from it.”

Ember looked over his face with almost curiosity, and then her lovely fingers squeezed slightly around him.

“Wait!” Rolan repeated, and his tone shot up to a quiet whine. He was past trying to control his reactions, trembling and heated with weeks of pent-up desperation, but it felt vital to salvage what shreds of his dignity remained before she tipped him over the edge. And she had him very, very close.

“This isn't how I wanted—with you—but it’s been a gods damned month between everything, and Cal and Lia—and I’m master of the Tower now, and there’s the Absolute—”

Whether or not Rolan’s whispered and disjointed rambling made any sense, Ember had the grace to watch him from under her lashes until he sputtered out. In the next moment, she uttered the sultriest thing he’d ever heard.

“Honestly, Rolan, I just want to watch you come all over your robes.”

With that, her grip tugged firmly at the spot where his tail met his ass.

If not for her other hand clamping over his mouth again in the same motion, Rolan would have let out the most humiliating whimper of pure relief. Instead the noise was a muffled strangle of sound as his body gave her exactly what she wanted.

With a full-body shudder, Rolan twitched and spilled inside his trousers. His fingers clutched and dug at Ember’s hips with a mind of their own, pulling her forward shamelessly, allowing him to finally grind against her thigh in earnest as he came.

The wave of long-awaited release shot all the way up his spine with an intensity that made his knees buckle. Ember pressed his hips back against the shelves with her own just enough to catch him, sending the precarious tinkle of metal and glass around the small space—but her hand pumped a few more times over his tail to tease every last wave of pleasure from between his legs.

Rolan’s limbs trembled and shook from the force of the most satisfying climax he’d had in years. As white stars behind his eyelids popped and cleared, hot, sticky spend pooled in the fabric between his legs…then rapidly turned cold and mortifying. All Rolan could do was hang his head over Ember’s shoulder and pant against her hand.

At this moment, he’d give half his tower to know a good Banishment hex.

But if Ember was put off by his loss of control, she certainly didn't show it. Instead she let out a sound like a satisfied purr; she finally released his twitching, oversensitive tail to wrap both arms around his neck.

Rolan felt drunk in his afterglow, too spent to do anything but loop his arms around Ember’s waist and bury his flushed face into her shoulder. He realized through the haze that he'd heard the portal activate a while ago, though it hadn't registered then. They'd been alone in the tower for some time.

“Feel better?” Ember asked, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

It was difficult to answer. On the one hand, he could sob from the relief. On the other, Rolan had just done the most unimpressive thing against the leg of the very woman he wanted to impress most.

But Ember hadn't pushed him away in disgust. She was even closer than before, the length of her body pressed up comfortably against his as she hugged him. If not for the cold wet stain soaking from his clothes into hers, the position would be quite nice.

Rolan cast a simple spell as his energy returned, and the fabric between them was instantly warm and dry again.

“I've felt worse,” Rolan admitted as he reluctantly drew her away. Ember had begun to feel a little too nice pressed up against him; he wasn't taking any chances on a repeat.

“Good.” Ember looked down to brush herself off a little, and Rolan wondered whether he was imagining the darker color in her cheeks.

Without another word, Ember wheeled to open the door and accidentally thumped up against the unyielding wood. “Ouch—”

“Sorry,” Rolan said hastily, releasing the arcane lock with another quick spell and a flash of light. The door swung open.

They both stumbled slightly on the way out, blinded by the daylight streaming through the highly arched windows after so long in a dark enclosed space.

Ember walked ahead first with a hand shielding her eyes. “Well, looks all right out here…they didn’t try to trash the place, at least.”

Rolan glanced at her to respond, then stopped short.

He gaped open-mouthed at the back of her. From between the seams of her costume, Ember’s tail looped up in a perky and exaggerated S-curve. The sight was utterly adorable and incredibly tantalizing all at once. It also offered a very nice view of the curves of her hips, and Rolan could only blink and swallow hard as his mind whirred through several possibilities to land on the obvious one.

Had she enjoyed that?

Apparently unaware that her tail was curling and swaying at him in a come-hither motion, Ember turned back to him with a bright, unsuspecting smile. Rolan rushed to compose his face.

“You should come to my show this week,” she told him. “It’ll be fun. Bring Cal and Lia, relax a little. You’ve gotten all pent up in here,” Ember added, waving an arm around the cavernous tower.

He would say she had no idea, but in fact, Ember now knew intimately well.

Thanks to the electrifying realization that she had some feelings of her own about the matter, Rolan was able to manage a shaky laugh.

“I might just chance it.”

#nsft #spicy #rolan x tav #rolan x oc #tav: ember #oc: ember #fuck me tails #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #rolan #catsharky #thank you for letting me take Ember and Rolan out to play!#underdark-dreams #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction

582 notes · View notes

gina103 · 3 months

Text

Flu Season!

It's been quite a while since I posted something. Since it's basically flu season now, here you go!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a chilly morning in November when Ember woke up feeling like she’d been hit by a bus.

Her head felt hot, her body shivered uncontrollably, her muscles and bones ached in protest with every movement she made, it was simply impossible for her to get out of bed.

But she had to. Ember could not just stay in bed no matter how much she wanted to, she needed to get help or help herself. As a borrower who lived on her own, she did not have the luxury of helping hands.

As Ember attempted to roll out of her little bed, a reassuring thought struck her.

Jamie could help me.

That’s right, Jamie. She had almost forgotten about the human boy in the stress of her situation. She had almost forgotten about her new friends, Caleb and Jesus as well. Ember mentally struck herself in the head, how could she forget about the only people who made her feel cared for, who made her feel like she was a person, who made her feel loved? It was Jamie in particular whom she thought of the most, how could she not? He made her feel special in a way that she never felt before, not even with her late family.

With those warm thoughts in her feverish head, Ember rolled out of bed and began weakly making her way to the door of her home, trying her best not to stumble over in her dizziness. It was time to find Jamie.

Jamie had been having a boring day so far.

His morning classes went by uneventfully and he had already eaten a mediocre lunch in the dining hall before walking back to the dorm. He was excited for the evening, he never knew what he and his roommates would get into every night, it was exciting to think about what antics they would all get up to that night. Maybe they would have a movie night, or play video games, or board games, or go for a drive, the options were limitless. Of course, the number one person that was on his mind, more than his evening plans or boring classes, more than anything else, was Ember.

Jamie knew that he had feelings for her. He had known ever since Halloween night, when they were cloaked in complete darkness, when he held her delicate little body in his hands, when he felt her bury her face into his chest, and most of all, when she uttered those lovely words to him.

Please hold me like this more often…

Every time his mind got a moment to breathe, those words replayed in his head over and over again, and every time, it sent a small jolt of electricity through him. How could someone so small mess him up so badly? Jamie wondered that every day. It didn’t help that Ember was really starting to warm up to him. She was warming up to his roommates too, but with him, it was special. Ever since Halloween, she’d come up to Jamie while he was doing homework and actually ask him to hold her. Sometimes, she didn’t even have to ask, just one look and Jamie would scoop her up before she could even blink. Sometimes, she would even fall asleep in his hands, which Jamie thought was the cutest thing on planet Earth. A fond smile crept on his face at the memory of her peaceful expression as she snoozed in his hands, she reminded him of the little backyard squirrels that would live in his neighborhood, her hair was the same color as their fur. Another thing that put a smile on Jamie’s face was to realize that she trusted him enough to doze off around him. Knowing how wary she was about humans and how scared she was when they first met, made him feel proud to have earned that trust.

Jamie was sitting at his desk when he was shaken out of his daze by a peculiar noise. It sounded like tiny, shaky breathing. His heart dropped, he knew exactly who would be making such tiny sounds, but he knew that something was wrong. His mind was already racing with possibilities as he turned to look for the source of the noise.

Oh my God…

There was Ember, on the floor by the foot of his desk, attempting to climb to the top. Jamie’s stomach twisted as he took in her appearance. She was struggling hard. She was already pale, but now her face was a horrid mixture of gray and green, she was visibly sweaty, her body swayed dangerously as she looked up to meet his eyes.

“Oh, Jamie!” She said as if she had just now noticed him, her body exerting maximum effort to avoid keeling over and never getting up.

His hands lunged for her.

Before Ember even had time to think, Jamie was on his knees and the warmth of his hands surrounded her as she was scooped up and brought close to his concerned gaze. She watched him curiously, not saying anything as he touched a single finger to her forehead, his brows furrowing into a worried frown. Ember wasn’t exactly processing anything going on, all she wanted to do was look at him, to watch his facial muscles pull and contract to create that expression he wore, to watch his eyes pore over her, taking in every inch of her.

Ember knew that she wasn’t a good borrower anymore, she was a very poor one indeed. A good borrower would be scared to be in a human’s hands, under the intense weight of their gaze, in such a horrific state, so weak and vulnerable. That’s how Ember knew she truly trusted Jamie, she did not feel one ounce of fear or apprehension, and maybe it was her fever warping her vision, but were his eyes always that beautiful? They reminded her of freshly brewed coffee, gazing at her with such concern, such consideration, such kindness and sympathy.

Such love.

Borrower code be damned, who wouldn’t trust those eyes?

She watched his facial muscles around his mouth pull as he said something she didn’t really hear, she just felt so tired, and his hands were so warm.

“you’re so pale,” he said, sounding muffled by her own ears.

She felt him stand up, cupping her close to his chest. “Guys! Ember’s sick!” She heard him announce.

Her body had enough, the last thing Ember was able to process was Jamie’s hurried footsteps as he exited his room before her exhaustion took over and blanketed her world in black.

Ember knew she wasn’t in his hands anymore, the air around her was different. She could tell she was on a comfortable surface, there was something cool and damp sitting on her forehead too, what was going on?

“Shhh! Don’t wake her up!” A hushed voice whispered. It sounded like Jamie.

“I was just breathing!” another voice whispered fiercely, Caleb.

“Well breathe quieter!”

“I think she just moved,” Jesus chimed in, silencing them both.

Ember remained still, breathing in and out as if she was still in a deep slumber.

“I don’t think she moved,” Caleb uttered.

“Damn,” Jesus replied.

There was silence for a minute, Ember could feel all three pairs of eyes watching her. Keeping still, she heard movement, the surface she was under shifted a little, the sound of rustling fabric was heard. Then, she heard what sounded like multiple pairs of footsteps leaving the room. Once she heard a door close softly, and the sound of muffled voices beyond it, Ember finally opened her eyes.

As she took in her surroundings, she realized that she was laying on the top cushion of the sofa. Looking to her left, she could see Jamie’s bedroom door was closed, and heard voices saying unintelligible words. Every now and then, she caught words such as “flu” and “black plague” whatever that meant. She reached up to grasp whatever was on her forehead, studying it closely. It looked like a piece of a washcloth that had been soaked in cold water. Ember’s heart warmed when she realized it was a makeshift mini cold towel, they must have made it just for her. A fond smile crept onto her face at the thought, they really cared for her.

The door to her left opened with a loud commotion and all three boys rushed out.

“You’re seriously going to class right now?” Jamie asked incredulously.

“Um, yeah,” Caleb replied sassily, “I care about my education.”

“Don’t you care about your friends?”

“College is too expensive to be skipping class all the time!”

“But you skip class all the time!”

Caleb gave Jamie a long hard stare, as if to say touché, before walking briskly towards the door, and shutting it behind him. The two boys stared at each other in disbelief.

All the commotion made Ember’s head pound, reminding her that she still felt like a rotting corpse.

“Absolute flaker,” Jesus said, shaking his head disapprovingly, “not a good habit to be in.”

Jamie let out a disappointed sigh before turning towards Ember’s spot on the couch. His eyes lit up upon seeing her awake and sitting up, making Ember’s stomach feel weird. Was that the fever?

“Hey!” He said softly, making his way around the sofa to sit down, “how’re you feeling?”

“Horrible,” Ember replied, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do anything.”

Ember watched him sit down on the sofa where he could be more level with her, “Listen, you don’t have to worry about doing anything, all you worry about is getting better, ok?”

Ember nodded in resignation, she hated feeling like this, like she couldn’t do anything. Although she appreciated Jamie’s and the boys’ help massively, it killed her to be out of commission like this. It was bad enough when her ankle was hurt, now it was the second time in a year that she had to rely on a human for help. God, she was certainly not a good borrower.

“You ok?” Jamie asked, concerned at her faraway expression.

“Oh,” Ember said, snapping out of her daze, “Yes, I’m fine.”

Jamie gave her a look that said, “I don’t believe you at all”.

“Well, I sup - “Ember began.

“You guys want food?” Jesus suddenly asked.

Jamie turned around, annoyed at the interruption.

“I’m going to Panda Express, I have a coupon,” Jesus continued, “y’all want anything?”

“No thanks,” Jamie replied stiffly.

“Suit yourself,” Jesus gave the two of them a strange, knowing look, then opened the door and left.

Before Ember could process whatever that was about, the brown-eyed boy before her had already turned back to her and was waiting for her to continue. She felt the pressing weight of his attention and suddenly felt slightly hotter than before.

“Well, what I was going to say before…” She paused in hesitation, trying to gather her thoughts, “I’m just really annoyed that you have to take care of me again.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows slightly at her words and Ember immediately knew her mistake.

“N-not that I’m annoyed at you per say,” she said quickly, “It’s just that it m-must be annoying for you, because you had to take care of me when my ankle was hurt, and you know…”

She trailed off, he was just watching her, smiling. Why did he have to smile like that?

Suddenly, his hand moved closer to her. Ember watched in fascination as he took her hand in between his pointer finger and thumb, her hand utterly disappeared in between the massive digits. It was so strange, knowing that he could easily crush her hand like a grape right then, but he was using the utmost gentleness, almost caressing her hand. Ember knew that her face must have turned tomato red right at that moment. He stared straight into her eyes with conviction.

“I’m not annoyed at all,” Jamie said softly, his coffee-brown eyes emphasizing his sincerity, “I don’t think you could ever annoy me honestly.”

He leaned in closer, his eyes growing more serious.

“Don’t ever think of yourself as a burden to me, because it’s not true,” he continued firmly, “Me, Caleb, Jesus, we all want to take care of you, you’re our friend, we care about you.”

He paused in hesitation for a moment before quietly adding, “I care about you.”

Ember felt as though her heart had doubled in size. She remembered the times when she fell ill in her childhood. She remembered how her mother would cook warm potato soup for her, how her father would bring her a new handmade toy to cheer her up when she cried, how her brother wouldn’t stop making silly faces at her until she laughed. She had always missed the feeling of being cared for, the idea that someone would pick you up when you fell, take care of you when you’re sick, and love you even in your lowest moments. Never again did Ember believe she would have someone like that after the death of her family, until this very moment. Now she had Jamie, a boy who wanted to be that person for her, a human boy who cared for her. It wasn’t even just him, she had friends now, people who were willing to help her, care for her, love her. She stared up at him, tears filling her eyes and quickly spilling all over her cheeks, overwhelmed with gratitude for him.

“T-thank you so much, Jamie,” she said through her tears, “It m-means so much to me to hear you say that.”

He smiled at her, that damn smile, so warm and comforting. He really was amazing. Ember realized that Jamie had let go of her hand and was now using both of his massive hands to surround her in a cupping motion. It felt like she was being wrapped in a warm blanket, except better. He used his thumb to delicately wipe away her tears.

“You don’t have to worry anymore, Em, we got your back.” He said with the utmost sincerity.

And Ember finally found herself truly believing him.

#g/t #g/t community #g/t writing #sfw g/t #g/t fluff #the borrowers #oc: ember #oc: jamie #giant/tiny #oc: jesus #oc: caleb

24 notes · View notes