#spiking heartbeats

[pearlsephoni]

Spiking Heartbeats: Team-Building

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: T

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Relationships: Platonic Karasuno First Years, platonic Hinayachi (Hinata & Yachi), pre-relationship Tsukkiyama (Tsukishima/Yamaguchi), pre-relationship Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Hitoka Yachi, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Kei Tsukishima, Tobio Kageyama

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary:

“Ditch?” Yachi repeats, looking extremely unsure of herself. “Ditch,” Shoyo confirms.

In April 2010, Hinata Shoyo and his childhood friend Yachi Hitoka leave Miyagi Prefecture to attend university in Tokyo. Shortly thereafter, an attempt to avoid compulsory hazing during their medical school orientation leads to an unlikely new friendship with three fellow first years

A/N: Written by @r0mantic-era as part of our collaborative series of Haikyuu Hospital Playlist AU fics, featuring the Karasuno first years as the 99s! Originally published on AO3 on March 25th. Further author's notes can be found there.

***

Hinata Shoyo sits with his back pressed against the wall of a crowded room, clutching his abdomen and gritting his teeth.

While an off-key rendition of Katy Perry’s Hot and Cold warbles through the cramped space, his stomach churns the overabundance of food he’d eaten during dinner. Eager to please his new seniors as they piled meat on his plate, Shoyo had shoved down piece after piece, constantly replaced in a never-ending stream, and ignored his body’s growing protests.

Now, he’s paying the price.

Beside him, Yachi gnaws on her fingernails, free hand twisted into the fabric of his tee shirt. “Hinata,” she mumbles. “I can’t do this.”

“Hurghh,” Shoyo groans in response, battling a wave of nausea as it rolls over his body. Although he prides himself on his stomach, he’s never been able to eat like Yachi. Bile rises in his throat.

Noticing the telltale signs, Yachi hurriedly presses her water bottle into his hand. “Drink,” she urges, glancing nervously over to their left. When Shoyo follows her gaze, he sees cases upon cases of alcohol stacked against the wall. The thought of getting hazed with alcohol in this state…Shoyo chokes down a gag and immediately looks away, back towards the front of the room.

“Wonderful performance! Everyone give a big hand to Hakuba-kun!!” announces Yamamoto Akane, one of the older med students running the retreat. “Who’s next?” The upperclassman’s eyes gleam while she scans the crowd, like a lion surveying a herd of antelope, as Hakuba Gao—one of their fellow first years—hurries off the stage, cheeks flaming.

“Hinata, I will pass away if I have to sing in front of the whole class,” Yachi hisses in his ear, pure dread plastered across her face. “Please!”

Shoyo chugs the water and finishes in several gulps before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth with a sigh. Sweet relief hits his system when he swallows, easing the pressure in his stomach just enough to respond properly. “I’m in no shape to perform, either,” he whispers back. “Let’s ditch.”

“Ditch?” Yachi repeats, looking extremely unsure of herself.

“Ditch,” Shoyo confirms, holding out his hand to his oldest and dearest childhood friend with a grin. Clearly conflicted, Yachi stares at him, torn between her fear of getting in trouble and her obvious desire to leave. 

After a minute, Shoyo makes the decision for her. “We won’t get caught,” he asserts confidently. Momentarily grabbing her hand, he climbs to his feet and leads her out the back door. Yachi follows without protest, stage fright more anxiety-inducing than any punishment their seniors can deal out.

The fresh night air kisses his lungs when they slip outside, clearing away his food-induced queasiness until it is nothing more than a faint, dull ache. Creeping across the porch of the inn, Shoyo makes to turn the corner when Yachi grips the edge of his tee shirt.

“Hinata, wait! Look!” Yachi warns under her breath, gesturing ahead.

Sure enough, he spots two other seniors leaning against the exit of the venue. Shoyo can’t remember their names, but the scowls on their faces are more than enough of a deterrent. “Damn it!” he curses quietly. 

Their department orientation retreat is located high in the mountains at a walled inn with only one entrance: in short, there is no escape.

“The toilet?” Yachi suggests, pointing at a very sad port-a-potty a little ways away.

Shoyo wrinkles his nose. “We’d reek something awful if we went there.”

Yachi pales at the reminder. “And then we wouldn’t be able to make any friends for the rest of medical school!” she concludes, whisper rising in pitch. 

Shoyo flicks her on the forehead. “You’re doing it again.”

“My bad.” Yachi rubs the spot with a small blush, embarrassed by the call-out. “Um, well, what about that shed?” She raises one finger to point toward the back of the courtyard. Sure enough, there’s a small shed there, with blue paint peeling off the door and a rusted tin roof.

“Great thinking!” Shoyo praises, dashing towards the back. Yachi follows after, inching along the side of the inn pressed to the wall like some sort of secret agent. Once she joins him by the front of the shed, Shoyo grabs the door handle and wrenches it open with a loud creak.

“Eep!” Yachi lets out a tiny shriek, which Shoyo barely manages to muffle with his hand.

Two pairs of eyes stare back from the far end of the tiny supply shed, which is actually the size of a small closet. Shoyo vaguely recognizes the pair from the day’s earlier activities—they’re fellow first year students. 

An outdated SONY portable CD player sits on the ground, bracketed by their shoes. The cord of a pair of wired headphones travels up the space between them only to diverge at their shoulders, an earbud traveling to each ear.

“Oh, great,” says the first guy—he’s clearly huge, even though his frame is hunched and folded into itself in an attempt to make himself small. “This is what I was afraid of.”

His friend, similarly big but not quite as colossal, sits squished beside him with his arms wrapped around his knees. He’s a little mousy despite his big size, with a smattering of freckles across his face and jittery knees. “Tsukki… They can hear you.” His voice is soft and a little sweet.

“That’s the whole point, Yamaguchi,” replies ‘Tsukki’, who rolls his eyes behind square-rimmed glasses. “This shed is occupied. Go make out somewhere else.”

“Make out?!” Yachi squeaks, horrified.

“We’re running away from compulsory Karaoke,” Shoyo corrects, face flaming. “Yachi is my childhood friend!”

‘Yamaguchi’ perks up at that. “Tsukki and I are childhood friends, too!” he offers excitedly. “And we also came here to avoid performing!”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” Tsukki mutters.

Shoyo frowns at that. What’s this Tsukki guy’s problem?

“Sorry, Tsukki!” chirps Yamaguchi, flashing a toothy smile, completely unfazed by the fact that his friend just told him to shut up.

Shoyo exchanges a glance with Yachi that says, These guys are weird. She meets his eyes in agreement, lifting a hand to chew on her fingernails.

“Well, Tsukki—,” Shoyo begins.

“That’s Tsukishima to you.”

“Well, Tsukishima,” he amends. “You don’t own this shed, so you can’t complain if we join you.” Without waiting for an answer, he steps inside, extending a hand to pull Yachi in after him. She closes the door hastily and leans against it awkwardly.

“It was already cramped in here,” Tsukishima huffs.

Shoyo appraises him, squinting to see under the dim light bulb. “You’re really whiny, aren’t you?”

“Don’t say that about Tsukki!” Yamaguchi retorts immediately, uncurling his spine abruptly. His lanky limbs practically vibrate with defensive intensity. Tsukishima sighs through his nose.

“Whining is all he’s been doing since we met!” Shoyo points out, squeezing into the spot beside Tsukishima and bumping the boy over to the side with an aggressive scoot of the hips. “Yacchan, come sit here,” he instructs, patting the newly vacated space.

Tsukishima plucks the earbud from Yamaguchi’s ears and rolls up the headphones before tucking them and the Walkman into his jacket pocket. “We’re only letting you stay here because you’re both tiny,” he mutters, now pressed up against Yamaguchi due to the narrow dimensions of the shed. Yamaguchi looks rather uncomfortable, contorted awkwardly against the wall to make more space. Tsukishima’s hands are tightly clasped in his lap, his face oddly redder than it was just a minute prior.

“Tiny?!” Shoyo jabs Tsukishima in the ribs with his elbow, sensitive about his height. “I’m a very respectable height, you know. You’re just…freaky!”

Yamaguchi snickers into his hand. Shoyo is starting to think that he’s not quite as nice as initial appearances had suggested.

“Shhhh,” Yachi interjects worriedly. “You two are going to get us caught! Can’t we all just be quiet?!”

Shoyo can’t really handle awkward silence, though, when he’s not preoccupied by a task. “My name’s Hinata Shoyo. She’s Yachi Hitoka,” he tells Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. “Yacchan and I are from Miyagi Prefecture.”

“I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi from Tokyo,” Yamaguchi tells Shoyo, twisting his torso in an attempt to find a better sitting position. “And this is my best friend Tsukishima Kei! Tsukki scored in the top percentile on the entrance exam for this program,” he announces proudly, puffing out his chest like he’s sharing his own scores and not somebody else’s.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima groans, burying his head in his hands. Shoyo thinks he catches a glimpse of pink cheeks peeking through Tsukishima’s fingers.

“Sorry, Tsukki!”

“Shhhh!!” Yachi begs, hushing them all again. “What if—”

The door to the shed swings open.

“Ahhh!! We’re sorry!!” Yachi yelps, immediately getting to her knees to beg for forgiveness.

The person standing there stares down at her, eyes wide. “Huh.” And then he looks up.

Flat black hair cut like a bowl sits above piercing eyes, cobalt like the blue of a Mikasa volleyball. Shoyo traces the stranger’s small nose down to his deeply set frown, lips curved like Cupid’s bow. The boy is tall, hands shoved into the pockets of a black Adidas tracksuit.

The first coherent thought that Shoyo manages to formulate is: Cool.

“Oh, it’s this asshole again,” Tsukishima states, matter-of-fact. “The one who was trying to boss us around during the games earlier today. Kageyama, right?”

Kageyama’s face clouds like the sky before a storm. “You were the reason our team ate lunch last,” he mutters. “All the yogurt was gone by then. Jerk.”

“So you’re not an upperclassman?” Yachi asks, relief blossoming across her face. She scrambles to her feet and grabs Kageyama’s sleeve, pulling him inside before quickly shutting the door. “Phew… Now everybody be quiet!” she orders. “I don’t even want to think about what they’ll do to us if they find us.”

At her command, the shed falls silent for a while. Kageyama shuffles his feet awkwardly before crouching on the ground in a flat-footed squat. Shoyo watches him with intrigue; he can’t help it. Kageyama is…he’s eye-catching.

“What are you staring at?” Kageyama grunts after a little while, breaking the quiet.

“Nothing,” Shoyo says immediately, a flush crawling up his neck. Caught red-handed. “Iwasntlookingatanything!”

“What?” Kageyama prods, leaning closer. “Are you even speaking Japanese?”

“O meu nome é Shoyo Hinata,” Shoyo jokes, feeling his skin grow sweaty under his clothes.

Kageyama stares at him blankly and tilts his head, clearly confused. Shoyo stifles a laugh. This Kageyama guy has some pretty cute behaviors, he has to admit.

Yachi swats Shoyo’s arm gently. “His name is Hinata Shoyo. I’m Yachi Hitoka. We’re from Yukigaoka in Miyagi Prefecture,” she says timidly.

Kageyama nods, looking rather solemn. “I’m Kageyama Tobio. I’m from Sendai, so I’m from Miyagi, too.”

“No way!” Shoyo whispers, fighting to keep his voice down. “I’m a huge fan of the Sendai Frogs!”

“The volleyball team?” Tsukishima perks up for the first time since Kageyama entered the shed. “I guess you have some taste, after all, Shrimpy. The Frogs have some of the best blockers in the V-League.”

Before Shoyo can contest the ‘shrimpy’ comment, Kageyama speaks up: “The Frogs have weak offensive power; they only just made the jump from division two to division one. The best team in the V-League is hands-down the Schweiden Adlers.”

“You take that back!” Shoyo protests, seething, right as Tsukishima exclaims, “The Adlers?! The fucking Adlers?!”

“Be quiet!!” Yachi begs.

“I’m just stating facts,” Kageyama retorts, crossing his arms. “The Frogs are shitty.”

“The Frogs are not shitty!” Shoyo declares, heated in a way he only is when it comes to his favorite sport. He played wing spiker for his school team all through high school until it was time to study for university entrance exams—so sue him for being a little overly passionate. “They’re about to thrash the Adlers in their next match!”

“You’re a dumbass if you think—” Kageyama begins, meeting Shoyo’s glare head-on, when the door swings open for a third time.

“Having fun?” asks Yamamoto Akane, standing in the entryway, incisors sharp in her sparkly white smile.

Shoyo fails to suppress his audible gulp.

***

“Our next performers will be a group of five! They specially volunteered to perform this next song and they’ll be cleaning up the whole place once we call it a night!” announces Yamamoto, hitting play on the iPod Nano attached to the stereo speakers.

As the familiar Woaaaah of Justin Bieber’s Baby starts to reverberate through the room, Yamaguchi clutches his microphone like a lifeline, horror-stricken. Yachi’s knees knock together like a baby giraffe. Tsukishima stares blankly ahead.

“I don’t know this song,” Kageyama announces into his microphone, prompting giggles from the audience.

“Just do ad-libs!” Yachi squeaks, lowering her microphone so that she’s only audible to the five of them. “Who knows what the upperclassmen will do if we don’t try!”

“I know you love me, I know you care,” Tsukishima says, completely deadpan, into his microphone in accented English. He sounds like he’s reciting a passage for class.

What follows is the flattest, worst musical performance that Shoyo has ever witnessed, much less participated in. Despite the fact that English was never his favorite strongest subject, Shoyo’s firm grasp on pop culture and five years of playing guitar as a hobby mean that he and Yamaguchi manage to halfway carry the tune, stumbling over the lyrics. Yachi, who Shoyo knows to be an incredibly gifted pianist and lovely singer, spends the verses breathing loudly into the microphone and warbles out the refrain pitchily, halfway hiding behind Tsukishima, who is still doing a monotone robot impression (but somehow seems to know every word, including the rap).

As for Kageyama…he just yells, “Hey!” into his microphone every few seconds, so gruff it’s almost aggressive.

Their rendition is awful, objectively, and their classmates clutch their stomachs the whole time, peals of laughter ringing through the room. Shoyo knows they mean it in good fun; when the song comes to a painful end, the other first years drunkenly hoot and holler with good-natured enthusiasm. Nonetheless, Yamaguchi and Yachi still seem to be moments away from death by mortification.

Thankfully, the event ends shortly afterward, with their fellow students stumbling into the sleeping quarters; everyone is freshly of age and unused to drinking.

Kageyama, Yachi, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, and Shoyo remain behind, where Yamamoto hands them all trash bags and a few brooms. “Hopefully this serves as a good lesson about being good team players instead of sneaking off to avoid participating,” she tells them. “It was so sweet of you five to offer to clean all this up in place of your very tired seniors!” Yamamoto stretches her arms above her head and yawns, exaggerated. “See you in the morning~”

Once they’re alone, Yamaguchi slumps back against a wall. “I can’t believe we got caught,” he groans.

“We wouldn’t have gotten caught if these two menaces could keep their voices down,” Tsukishima snarks, bending over and getting to work, plucking up paper plates and red solo cups by their rims with two fingers, wrinkling his nose. “God damn it, everything is sticky.”

“You were being loud, too!” Shoyo objects, hands on his hips.

“Let’s just hurry and get this over with,” Yamaguchi interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose. Abashed, Shoyo joins Tsukishima in cleaning up, along with everyone else.

They finish the job in just thirty minutes, partially because Shoyo and Kageyama somehow end up competing as to who can collect the most trash: it all starts innocently enough, with Kageyama side-eyeing Shoyo’s less-full trash bag with a smirk. Shoyo can’t really even explain how it devolves into the two of them furiously stuffing garbage into their bags as fast as they can.

Shoyo thinks he hears Tsukishima whisper, “single-celled organisms” to Yamaguchi, who snickers in response, but he graciously elects to ignore them.

Once clean-up is finished, the five of them haul the bags out to the dumpster.

“We did it!” Yachi cheers, releasing a huge sigh of relief. Shoyo grins as he watches the tension flow out from her body, fully, for the first time that evening. Without warning, however, she stiffens again.

“What’s wrong, Yacchan?” he asks, genuinely concerned. “Did we forget something?”

“No, no! It’s all okay!” Yachi digs the toe of her converse into the dirt, fiddling with her small purse. “It’s just, um… Um, well, my parents got me a digital camera. To record memories of my time at university. And…I…Will you all take the first picture with me?” she squeaks out, completely pink in the face.

“In front of the dumpster?” Tsukishima raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Ah, no, um…maybe in front of the inn?” 

“Of course, we can!” Shoyo interrupts, marching over to the front of the main building and shucking off his shoes. “Everyone, stack your shoes here. We can put the camera on top of the pile and use the timer setting!”

Surprisingly, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima and Kageyama all surrender their shoes to the pile without a fight. Yachi’s red converse sit at the very top, flipped upside down so that the little camera can rest on a flat surface. Idly, Shoyo wonders if tonight is the start of something interesting.

“I’m clicking the button!” Yachi announces, pressing down before hurrying to the front steps of the inn, where the others are already waiting. She sits in the very center, sandwiched between Kageyama and Shoyo. Yamaguchi and Tsukishima perch on the step behind them.

Shoyo watches the little green light flash, counting down from ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…two…

He raises two fingers in a peace sign and stretches his mouth into his widest smile.

Click.

#spiking heartbeats #r0mantic-era #karasuno first years #fics #fanfics #haikyuu!! #shoyo hinata #hitoka yachi #kei tsukishima #tadashi yamaguchi #tobio kageyama #kagehina #tsukkiyama #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #yachi hitoka #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukishima kei #haikyu!! #hq!! #haikyuu #haikyu #fic #fanfic #haikyuu fanfics #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fics #haikyuu fic #haikyu fanfics #haikyu fanfic

[sskk-manifesto]

This is a kind of heartbeat. to me

#The bsd fandom's heartbeat #(For clarification it's this blog's activity chart. There's spikes for every Wednesday) #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd s5 #bsd season 5

[takkamek]

watching the drivers getting close to the walls

#f1 #saudi arabian gp 2024 #lmao oscar's deadpan 'i clipped the wall' #but pELASE it spikes up my heartbeat every time they show how its just millimiters

[somekindofadeviant]

I want so so so bad to see the Fanged Four reunite to raise baby Connor. It takes a village to raise a kid. Yeah well maybe it takes a toxic vampire polycule to raise a miracle born-to-vampires baby?!?! I just, I want to see Darla and Angel co-parenting. Spike and Dru roped in as the older siblings to share the workload. Just think of the shenanigans. The drama. The weird domestic sweetness.

#fanged four #spike #angel #darla #drusilla #btvs #i will sell both angel and spike's souls for more modern day fanged four content #in a heartbeat #even tho i love them both souled

[lostlovepunk]

.

#it is. kinda scary how much worse my condition is rn than it was a year ago #i didn't even do very much today but barely got home #and now i can feel my heartbeat in my lip #which is a sensation i didn't know was possible #i hope i can get up to close my curtains and perhaps brush teeth #but i need to give my legs a moment so they are to be trusted again #ao much going on in this brain rn and i cant focus in anything so not even the breakdown is happening bc too much is swirling around #spike spoke

[clockwards]

willow and spike constantly getting into weird emotional situations and comforting each other is so funny. they're idiots in arms long before he's any type of 'good'

#i would bite you in a heartbeat #really #🥹 #willow rosenberg #spike #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer

[seokmashu]

QUICK THINK OF AN ICONIC TAERAE LINE

in celebration for taerae's bday <333

his whole interview with ollie was iconic so imma have to go with these:

"if you were a candy on white day?"

#taerae is so funny no matter what he does #adorable lil guy #nina answers #anonnie #also the quick part made my heartbeat spike cuz i don't do well under pressure 😭 #what's this for anonnie 👀

[marcsullivan620]

Spike...

#extreme dinosaurs #extreme dinosaurs spike #male heartbeat

[pearlsephoni]

Spiking Heartbeats: Free Coffee and Tea

Can also be read on AO3!

Rating: G

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Relationships: Platonic Karasuno First Years, pre-relationship Tsukkiyama (Tsukishima/Yamaguchi), pre-relationship Kagehina (Kageyama/Hinata), pre-relationship Kanoyachi (Kanoka/Yachi), established Kiyotana (Kiyoko/Tanaka)

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Hitoka Yachi, Kanoka Amanai, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Osamu Miya, Atsumu Miya, Kiyoko Shimizu, Ryuunosuke Tanaka

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary:

Amanai had always come off as shy, even though she’d been at the hospital for more than three years. At first glance, it would be easy for Shoyo to brush off any stiffness in her body language as awkwardness or discomfort. Yet a rosy pink flush was creeping up Amanai’s neck and rising in her cheeks. Shoyo regarded it with interest. Once Yachi disappeared out the door, he gave Amanai an experimental wink. The blush transitioned from pink to bright red. Tanaka and Shimizu exchanged knowing glances. Bingo.

It's an ordinary day at Ohyama Hospital, until Dr. Hinata stumbles across some interesting new information.

A/N: Written by @r0mantic-era as part of a collaborative series of Haikyuu Hospital Playlist AU fics, featuring the Karasuno first years as the 99s! Originally published on AO3 on April 15th. Further author's notes can be found there.

***

On a bright and early Sunday morning, Shoyo entered the café on the first floor of the hospital in high spirits. Humming to himself, he scanned the long line of customers with the eager, hungry eyes of a scavenger. 

It didn’t take long to spot a stubborn tuft of hair sticking out from the head of a familiar, tall figure in pale blue scrubs. Letting a grin crawl over his face, Shoyo made a beeline for his target—snatching up a salmon onigiri from the fridge on his way to cut the line.

“I want a hazelnut latte with soy milk,” he announced, looping his arm around Yamaguchi’s wide shoulders. “And this onigiri.”

Yamaguchi didn’t so much as flinch at the intrusion. “Guess what I have, Hinata?” he sang, waving a hand in front of Shoyo’s face. Pinched between his fingers was a familiar credit card.

“Tsukishima’s card?!” Shoyo pumped his fist. He’d arrived at just the right time.

Yamaguchi’s smile, impossibly, grew even more smug. “I’m buying coffee for my resident and Sawamura. Want in?”

In terms of residents, General Surgery only had Iwaizumi, but Shoyo made a split-second decision to snag drinks for the fellow surgeons in his department. “I’ll take an iced americano for Iwaizumi, a caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso for Bokuto-san, a jujube tea for Omi-Omi…” he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time, “...and a black coffee for Yacchan.” 

Shoyo was clocking in ahead of schedule this morning, so making a pit stop by Neurosurgery to drop off a drink for Yachi would be no problem.

“That’ll be 3,900 yen,” Miya Osamu announced from behind the cash register.

“And this.” Kageyama dropped a probiotic yogurt on the countertop.

“Ack!” Shoyo jumped. “Where did you come from? You’re like a ghost! Don’t be so quiet when you walk, Creepy-yama,” he sputtered.

Kageyama shrugged, plucking up the yogurt as Osamu punched the new purchase into the machine. “Have better hearing, then, Dumbass.”

Shoyo playfully stuck out his tongue. “My hearing is—”

“Ah-ah, no fighting in my café. You goons are going to hold up the line,” tutted Osamu, rolling his eyes sky-high. “That’ll be 4,200 yen. Tsumu will have the drinks out for you all shortly. Now get.” After more than a decade, the owner of Café Miya was well acquainted with Shoyo and his friends—they’d made more than a few ruckuses inside his establishment over the years, after all. 

Shoyo flashed him an apologetic grin before ducking out of the way and leaving Yamaguchi (or, well, Tsukishima) to cover the bill.

“See you at dinner?” Kageyama asked, uncapping his yogurt. It was a rare day when the friends’ shift schedules left them all simultaneously free for the evening, so the five had plans to meet up at a barbecue restaurant near the hospital.

“See you then, Yama-yama,” Shoyo told him, waving as Kageyama strolled out of the café and towards the lobby elevators.

Shoyo spent the next few minutes scrolling through Youtube to watch volleyball highlights. Yamaguchi, who had wandered over after placing their order, peered over his shoulder as Shoyo skimmed through clips of the most recent game between the Green Rockets and the Black Jackals. He hadn’t had time to watch yesterday with so many procedures scheduled, which was a shame—from the game reel, it seemed like it had been a great match.

“Sho-kun!” interrupted Miya Atsumu, setting several cardboard coffee cup carriers down in the pick-up area. “Your drinks are ready. But do you have any news for me?”

Atsumu, Osamu’s brother and co-manager of Café Miya, nurtured a notorious proclivity for gossip. His penchant for fueling rumors consistently bothered Tsukishima and Kageyama, both of whom complained that Atsumu was the hospital’s resident auntie, but Shoyo was always happy to indulge him.

“There’s a rumor going around that two interns are dating, but nobody knows who,” he provided, lowering his voice conspiratorily. “Let me know if you notice anything, alright?”

“I got you, doc,” Atsumu replied with a wink, handing Shoyo two carriers holding five drinks.

Yamaguchi clicked his tongue against his teeth and grabbed his own coffee carriers with a fond sigh. “Do we really need to be snooping around the lives of our juniors?” he asked, ever-responsible. Then, he grinned. “Well, let me know if you find out who it is. My money’s on Sugawara being involved in some way.”

***

After exiting Café Miya, Shoyo headed up to the third floor and into the Neurosurgery wing. Upon arriving at the department’s staff room, he bumped the door open with his hip and poked his head inside.

“Yacchan!” he called. “I brought you coffee!”

Yachi, who had been midway through explaining something to the two interns rotating through her department, startled slightly.

“Hinata!” Yachi yelped, knocking a stack of papers off the table. The sheets fluttered haphazardly through the air: Dr. Shimizu managed to snag half the pile mid-fall, aided by quick reflexes, while her fellow intern Dr. Tanaka scrambled for the remaining documents just a beat too late and ended up crouching on the floor to gather the rest.

“Sorry, Yacchan,” Shoyo apologized, placing the black coffee on the table beside her. “No milk, no sugar. Just how you like it.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” she told him, taking a massive gulp of the drink. “And the timing was perfect. I actually have to run to a consultation, now, but Kanoka can take over briefing this case for me. If that’s okay?”

Yachi’s third-year resident, Dr. Amanai, closed out a patient chart on the break room desktop and hurried to join the others at the table.

“I’ve got it, Professor!” she agreed immediately, tucking a lock of short, dark hair behind her ear. “And, um, hello Dr. Hinata.”

“Hey, Amanai-chan,” Shoyo greeted easily. Amanai was tall, so he had to look up slightly to make eye contact. “I heard you’re going to be the lead surgeon on an upcoming case!”

Amanai nodded. “It’ll be my first time leading,” she said timidly. “I’ll do my best.”

“I have no doubt it’ll go great,” Yachi interjected confidently, placing a hand on Amanai’s shoulder. “Just like I have no doubts leaving these two in your very capable hands!” The gesture was innocent—the reassurance of a mentor to a mentee—but Shoyo couldn’t help but notice Amanai tense just slightly under Yachi’s touch.

Amanai had always come off as shy, even though she’d been at the hospital for more than three years. At first glance, it would be easy for Shoyo to brush off any stiffness in her body language as awkwardness or discomfort. Yet a rosy pink flush was creeping up Amanai’s neck and rising in her cheeks. 

Shoyo regarded it with interest. Once Yachi disappeared out the door, he gave Amanai an experimental wink.

The blush transitioned from pink to bright red. Tanaka and Shimizu exchanged knowing glances. 

Bingo. 

Shoyo wished he could say that he was a mature man who refrained from meddling in the personal affairs of others, but there was a reason he was Atsumu’s Number One Gossip Buddy. 

Sure, the timing wasn’t ideal. Yachi was still dating Maruki Takuto from Dermatology—they’d only gotten together about two months ago, but it truly felt like it had been ages. Ages of Kageyama and Tsukishima agreeing for once and mutually bitching about the guy, that is. 

To be fair, Shoyo wasn’t exactly Maruki’s biggest fan, either. Maruki was nice enough to his colleagues and the hospital staff. But Shoyo had a strong feeling that the other doctor had an inferiority complex which manifested as jealousy over Yachi’s accomplishments, and he’d told her so in similar words. 

“I’m just seeing how things go. It’s not that serious,” Yachi had assured him. Still, none of their friends could really understand why she was wasting her time in the first place.

Although he would never interfere directly in Yachi’s relationships, Shoyo couldn’t help but be excited by the appearance of a better candidate for his childhood friend. Amanai had a reputation as a kind, fair, and caring member of the staff. She clearly had a tremendous amount of respect for Yachi. Once this Maruki business ended, maybe he’d have to do some meddling.

Shoyo left the neurosurgery wing in high spirits, whistling merrily. Having acquired free coffee and tea, the morning was shaping up to be a pretty good one.

***

Shoyo didn’t give his discovery much thought for the next few hours, swept up in the bustle of his morning cases. He met with patients one right after the other, dissecting CT scans and MRIs in layman’s terms before negotiating treatment paths and scheduling procedures. 

At a major hospital in a capital city, consultations often breezed by, but Shoyo liked to think that the person-to-person aspect of medicine was a personal specialty of his. Had he been the best student in their medical school class? Not by a long shot. Did he make mistakes when charting because he could not wrap his mind around the hospital software system? Occassionally. But Shoyo was a good surgeon and, perhaps most importantly, he did his best to make his patients feel safe and understood, before and after their operations.

Even for a gregarious person like himself, the latter was hard work. So, when his break finally rolled around, he opted to chill in the outdoor courtyard rather than return to his shared office with Yamaguchi.

Outside, the sun shone golden through the green leaves of the well-trimmed trees. The soft hum of public conversation filtered past as he shut his eyelids, enjoying the warm weather. And then he heard footsteps approach, stuttering against the pavement.

Shoyo cracked open one eye.

“Um, Dr. Hinata.” Amanai Kanoka took a seat on the bench beside him, a banana milk between her hands.

“Amanai-chan!” Shoyo replied immediately, straightening his spine. “What’s up?”

Amanai picked at the edge of the foil lid of the banana milk with the fingernail of her index finger, smoothing it back into place each time she came close to actually opening the container.

“I…I heard you liked banana milk,” she said after a minute of awkward silence, thrusting the milk into his hands.

Shoyo grinned gleefully, accepting the treat eagerly. “For me?” he asked, peeling off the lid and taking a swig. “Who told you?”

“Dr. Yachi mentioned it once,” Amanai replied, bravely lifting her gaze to make eye contact. “I know, um, you two have been friends for ages…right?”

“We have,” Shoyo confirmed, biting back a knowing smile. He had a feeling about where this was going, but he wasn’t going to put the words in Amanai’s mouth. “So what is it that you needed? Assuming you didn’t just come here to give me my favorite drink for no reason,” he joked. “Not that I’m not honored that our nation’s number one judoka personally delivered my snack.”

Amanai flushed pink. “Ah, how did you know?” she squeaked.

“Yacchan told me,” Shoyo explained matter-of-factly, offering her a cheerful thumbs up.

“She talks about me?!” Amanai blurted, eyes widening in genuine surprise. Once the outburst escaped her lips, she immediately clapped her hands over her mouth in mortification. “Um, I mean…”

Shoyo let his laugh flow free. “Well, it’s a pretty big deal when a three-time Olympic gold medalist finishes her career and then decides to enroll in medical school of all things…but to answer your question, she does!”

Amanai dropped her hands and leaned forward. The undisguised eagerness written across her face greatly amused Shoyo for a split second, who had deliberately refrained from elaborating. Witnessing the way Amanai was so clearly torn between pressing for more information and holding herself back, however, prompted a subsequent twinge of guilt. Amanai was not Kageyama—it wasn’t kind nor appropriate to tease her. Although she wasn’t much younger, she was still his junior.

Ever graciously, he made an executive call to put an end to her misery rather than force her to come clean. “So what do you need? Intel about Yachi’s hobbies? Her favorite restaurants?”

Amanai’s blush, impossibly, grew even more pronounced. “I, I—!” she spluttered, coughing into her elbow. “Um, I…”

“Yachi only ever has good things to say about you and your research,” he added, once she finished wheezing.

Amanai thumped her chest with one fist before sighing deeply. “Am I really that transparent?” she asked forlornly. “I hope Dr. Yachi doesn’t realize.”

“There’s no way she knows,” Shoyo assured her. “Yachi can be oblivious when it comes to this kind of thing. Though I can’t say if that the same thing is true for the interns.”

Amanai pressed her palm to her forehead. “Ugh. Tanaka keeps trying to wingman me in the worst ways, and it’s extremely embarrassing every time,” she complained. “He has no subtlety whatsoever.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for!” Shoyo cheered. “You can totally trust me to give you the best insider information about Yacchan. Like, she really loves camping, if you need any date ideas. And she finds height attractive.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Amanai covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. “I know. Or, well, I knew she liked camping. She’s the president of the Outdoor Hobbies Special Interest Group.”

“Huh.” Shoyo scratched his chin. Who knew their hospital had an organization like that? Well, it was no surprise that Yachi had found a way to be heavily involved: she was, at her core, an overachiever.

“Dr. Hinata, I…I’ve been interested in Dr. Yachi for a while now, and I’ve been too scared to act. So nothing has changed.” Amanai took a deep breath. “But I really want to give this a proper go instead of giving up without even trying. And I thought you could help me approach Dr. Yachi in the…a way that’s most respectful of what she would want. Since you know her so well.”

Shoyo bit his lip and rubbed his palms along the tops of his scrub pants, unsure of how to proceed. Amanai was so sincere, and he hated to be the bearer of bad news. “Well, it’s kind of on the down low, but Yachi is…sort of seeing someone?” Amanai’s expression plummeted, and Shoyo hastily rushed to amend the statement. “He’s actually a…big jerk! And it’s really not serious. In fact, we’re all rooting for it to be over sooner rather than later!”

Amanai frowned. “Still. I guess I shouldn’t do anything at all if she already has someone.”

“Hey. Just know it’s not going to last forever. Seriously. I think Tsukishima might actually commit a homicide if Yachi actually got serious about this guy,” Shoyo insisted. “As soon as she ends things, I’ll let you know right away. So don’t give up!”

Amanai’s frown only deepened. “Dr. Tsukishima?” she repeated. “Does Dr. Tsukishima have feelings for Dr. Yachi?”

Shoyo spat out a mouthful of banana milk. The drink splattered across his pants. “Shit. Sorry!” 

“I’m sorry!” Amanai exclaimed, horrified. “Oh no! I don’t have any napkins, though!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Shoyo waved her concerns away with one hand. “My fault. It’s not like they don’t get dirtier than this on the regular.” He dabbed at the stains with his hands. “You just caught me off guard. But trust me, Tsukishima does not have a thing for Yachi.”

When Shoyo lifted his gaze back up from his pants to Amanai, he spotted Atsumu over her shoulder. The café co-owner stood inside the building with his nose pressed up against the glass, looking directly at Shoyo.

Perking up at the sight of his friend, Shoyo lifted a hand to wave hello. Strangely enough, however, Atsumu darted away from the window as soon as they made eye contact. Weird. Well, weird wasn’t out of the realm of the ordinary when it came to Atsumu, he supposed. Shrugging, Shouyou turned back to Amanai.

“So, what else did you want to know about Yachi?”

***

1:30 PM

  [Miya Atsumu]

Yo, Dr. Bokkun!

Σ (O_O)

[Bokuto Koutarou]

Tsum-tsum!!

What’s up (• ิ _• ิ )?

[Miya Atsumu]

You would not believe what I just saw in the hospital courtyard

Shoyo was with Amanai from neurosurgery

They looked pretty cozy (¬ ‿ ¬ )

Sho-kun even got flustered! He spat out his milk!

[Bokuto Koutarou]

No way!

(o_O) !

[Miya Atsumu]

Yes way

[Bokuto Koutarou]

Let me ask Iwaizumi if he knows anything

|ʘ ‿ ʘ) ╯

  ***

7:00 PM

[Hinata Shoyo]

Yacchan where r u? Ready for dinner?

[Yachi Hitoka]

finishing up now! I’ll go get my car and pick you up at the front

[Hinata Shoyo]

Sounds good!

btw

do u happen to know why kageyama is in such a bad mood

he’s extra grumpy this evening even though he was fine in the morning

[Yachi Hitoka]

:o

i had no clue

… hope he doesn’t have a stomach ache. bbq is serious business

[Hinata Shoyo]

too right

well

i’ll head to the lobby

c u soon!

    To Be Continued...

#haikyuu!! #spiking heartbeats #spiking heartbeats part 4 #karasuno first years #kagehina #kanoyachi #fics #fanfics #shoyo hinata #hitoka yachi #kanoka amanai #atsumu miya #osamu miya #tadashi yamaguchi #kiyotana #kiyoko shimizu #ryuunosuke tanaka #haikyu!! #hq!! #haikyuu #haikyu #hinata shouyou #yachi hitoka #yamaguchi tadashi #amanai kanoka #miya atsumu #miya osamu #shimizu kiyoko #tanaka ryuunosuke

[dilfsfordinner]

He’s a virgin you know, so be gentle with him. Besides the calloused seal of his own fist, nobody, absolutely no one has touched him on that part of his body before. Although he was inexperienced, he wasn’t entirely stupid, for he knew what occurred between lovers, what could be possible for him one day; that day now coming to fruition by your hand. Because he had succumbed to your wiles, nothing would ever satisfy his hunger ever again. The curl of your tongue around his leaking tip was just the first thing to break him, your teeth grazing the throbbing veins of his shaft ripping apart his self control piece by piece. The soft lining of your cheeks was one thing, but your cunt was entirely another.

Straddling his shaking form, the sinking of your most intimate part clamping down on his cock had his lungs fighting for air, goosebumps erupting up the length of his spine. Never would he have expected it to feel this good, and it was all because of you. You were so snug and tight around his length, his previously innocent body now corrupted by your perfect cunt. Your soaked walls squelched as his twitching tip nudged at your cervix, and you would never forget the sight caused by it. Hair disheveled, chest rising and falling with erratic breaths, lips swollen and coated with your saliva, cheeks flushed a pretty red. You couldn’t even begin to list the sinful sight he bore, his eyes squeezed shut from the sensitivity, eyebrows drawn up and hands shaking to find the right place on your body. He was so clueless, it was adorable.

The problem with him being a virgin was how long he had stored himself up. His balls were so swollen, the lewd sound of his skin slapping yours pulling a reaction out of his body he couldn’t control. Clutching onto you, years worth of his abstinence spilled into you, his heartbeat spiking and eyes rolling back. Don’t ever forget this moment because the vulnerability seeping from him would probably be the last bit you would ever see.

Losing his virginity to you may have been one of the best moments of his life, but be sure to expect an insatiable hunger now, one that you would be subject to for weeks to come.

—————————————————————————

LEVI ACKERMAN, Jean Kirstein, (literally all the AoT characters), Yuta Okkotsu, Toge Inumaki, Choso Kamo, Vinsmoke Sanji, Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy, Rin Itoshi, Hyoma Chigiri, Isagi Yoichi, Doppo Kunikida, Reigen Arataka

#aot smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirstein x reader #reigen x reader #yuta x reader #jjk smut #jjk imagines #inumaki smut #inumaki x reader #choso x reader #choso smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut #blue lock smut #chigiri x reader #chigiri smut #isagi smut #isagi x reader #bsd smut #kunikida smut #kunikida x reader #sanji x reader #sanji smut #straw hats x reader #luffy smut #portgas ace smut #portgas ace x reader #rin itoshi x reader

[hier--soir]

fake it

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: does joel know you well enough to know when you're faking it? warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] smut, smut, smut, it's pretty much entirely smut, dirty talk, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, faked orgasm, panty sniffing, cunnilingus. word count: 5.7k masterlist a/n: i've had this idea worming around in my head for days and i just had to get it out so heRE WE GO

“We’ll stop here for the night.”

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of Joel’s voice, and the truck rolled to a stop as he parked it in the middle of a field, directly on the edge of a thick forest. The three of you had been on the road for hours since leaving Bill and Frank’s place, and you’d drifted in and out of a fitful sleep for the past few hours, painfully aware that it was your turn to take first watch once you stopped somewhere for the night.

“Fucking finally,” Ellie grumbled from the backseat, and Joel shot her an annoyed glance through the rear-view mirror.

It was already dark outside, and you shone a torch ahead into the inky black mass as the three of you spread your sleeping bags out on the ground. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, adrenaline spiking in the darkness. You’d always been afraid of it; the dark, and what lurked within it. And being in the middle of a field, late at night, unable to make a fire, was surely one of the worst case scenarios you could think of.

“You guys sure we’re safe out here?” Ellie asked warily. You noticed her eyes staring out across the forest, trying to spot anything through the thick mass of tall trees.

When Joel didn’t answer her immediately, his own eyes drifting outward to gaze into the darkness, your stomach dropped. After a second of too much silence you discreetly elbowed him in the side. His head snapped around to look at you, frowning as he rested a hand on his rib. 

“We’re fine,” you assured Ellie quickly, raising your eyebrows at Joel, as if to say, right?

“Yeah,” he said, eyes sliding from you to her. “No one’s gonna find us out here. You should get some sleep, we’re movin’ early in the morning.”

She nodded, still looking somewhat unconvinced, before slipping into her sleeping bag and rolling over so that her back was to the pair of you. You stared at your partner for a moment, chest aching with anxiety, hating the way his tone of voice hadn’t calmed your nerves.

Too anxious to sit down and rest for a moment, you shouldered a hunting rifle instead, positioning yourself close to the truck, where you could see both of them clearly. Every few minutes you rotated your body, watching the trees from every angle, making sure you would notice if there was even the slightest sound or movement. You hands grew clammy where they held the gun, and you had to readjust your grip on it every once in a while.

“What’re you doin’?” Joel’s voice drifted over to you after a little while. You turned, huffing out a laugh when you saw him lazing on his sleeping bag, sipping from his flask of whiskey.

“What am I doing?” you chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“Getting’ drunk on the job,” he smirked, tipping his head back as he drank. You swallowed thickly, smile fading as you stared at his long, thick neck, and the way it was exposed when he tilted his chin up. It had been weeks since the two of you had done anything more than kiss, too preoccupied with Ellie, and getting to Wyoming.

It was as if Joel could sense where your thoughts had travelled, because his expression darkened, eyes squinting greedily at you from across the open space.

“Why don’t you come over here, darlin’,” he said, resting a hand on his thigh.

“Joel,” you warned quietly, but he just patted his thigh in encouragement, taking a long sip from his flask.

“Just c’mere.”

You spared a glance around you, will power hanging by a thread, but ultimately shook your head, refusing. Joel let out a huff and stood up. He moved slowly, eyes never straying from your face as he stalked towards you, like a predator hunting his prey. And you watched him, tongue darting out to wet your lips as he came to rest beside you, leaning against the truck. Doing your best not to look at him, you tightened your grip on the gun and allowed yourself to lean back against the vehicle as well.

Joel held out the flask to you. “What’s got you so worked up, sugar?”

Casting an irritated glance in his direction, you snatched the flask from his hand and took a long swig, welcoming the stinging distraction as the liquid burnt down your throat.

“You know I hate the dark,” is all you said.

He hummed from low in his throat, nodding once. He stretched out a hand and snagged one of your belt loops with his finger, tugging you quickly into his side. You stumbled into his chest with a sharp gasp of surprise.

“It’s not so bad,” his deep voice drawled, plush lips grazing your ear. You shivered, tucking the flask away before placing a hand on his chest, your fingertips digging into the soft muscle there. “Nothin’ scary about it.”

Joel let his nose trace along the shell of your ear, and then across your cheek, and then his fingers were gripping your chin, turning your face to his..

His lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss, sucking and biting, lathing his tongue along your bottom lip until you welcomed him into your mouth with a pitiful sigh. His tongue pressed against yours, stroking slowly, coaxing your jaw open. You were vaguely aware of his other hand gripping the zip on your jacket and tugging it down. Heat flared in your abdomen, and you gripped the collar of his jacket, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and pulling back, enjoying the way he groaned as you stretched it out before releasing it with a wet pop.

You watched, glossy-eyed and already a little dazed, as Joel pried the gun out of your hands. He placed it gently onto the bed of the truck. His hand traced over your stomach, fisting the material intermittently, and then he was gripping your hips, spinning you so your chest was to the car, and he was pressed firmly against your back.

“Joel,” you muttered nervously, but he ignored you, sponging kisses behind your ear, suckling on the sensitive spot where your neck met your jaw. You could feel him, hot and hard against the curve of your ass. One of his hands drifted along the softness of your lower stomach, toying with the hemline of your shirt, and a stuttered gasp escaped your lips.

Sharp teeth grazed your neck, nipping at the skin and then he was lapping over it with his tongue, soothing the piercing ache he’d caused. You sighed at the feeling, rutting backward against him. You allowed your eyes to drift shut. And then they slammed back open again, as you realised neither of you would be keeping watch if you shut them. Joel’s face was hidden against your neck, there was no way he would see if anyone snuck up on the camp. Your heart thundered in your chest at the thought, and you kept your eyes open from then on.

“You smell so fuckin’ good,” he whispered against your skin, voice rough and wanton with need. “I’ve been missin’ you.”

“What abou-“

“She’s asleep,” he reassured, grip on your waist tightening. You could feel the way he was straining against his jeans, cock desperate and begging to be touched, as if he’d been thinking about this moment for hours, days, weeks. The ache between your thighs grew painful, and you rubbed against him harder.

“We have to be quiet,” you murmured quickly.

His only response was the distinct sound of his belt clinking, and then a shuffling noise as he dragged his pants low enough to free himself from the tight confines of his underwear. Not wasting a second, he gripped the waistband of your jeans and tugged them down as well, only satisfied when they rested around your knees, giving him full access to you.

One of his fingers glided messily between your folds and he sighed into your ear, marvelling at how wet you were for him already.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Wish I could put my mouth on you right now. Know you’d taste so good for me, baby, always do.”

You groaned. A soft, pathetic sound.

“It’s been so long,” he groused, and you murmured your agreement. It felt like you were suspended in the air, anticipation holding you firmly in its grasp as you waited for him to do something, anything. “Can’t stand it; s’all I could think about today.”

He tapped the rough pad of a finger against your clit and your entire body flinched forward against the car. As if he could sense the way your knees were buckling, his free arm wrapped around you, holding you up. You murmured his name desperately, hips pushing down against his hand.

“Should I fuck you with my fingers first?” he asked quietly, middle finger circling your entrance. “Or should I let my cock stretch you out?”

When you didn’t answer, mind too fuzzy to string a sentence together, he said, “Hmm?”

“Please,” you keened roughly, turning to glance at him over your shoulder. “Just want you, need you inside me.”

You saw the way the muscle in his jaw worked, lips pursed together as tension rolled through his shoulders. And then his cock was gliding through your folds, smearing your slick over his length, before the blunt tip of him nestled at your entrance. A harsh shout left your lips as he pushed himself, bottoming out in one thrust. Instantly, one of his hands slapped over your mouth, fingertips pressing into your cheek. Your eyes widened, darting around the clearing that surrounded you both on all angles.

“This ain’t gonna work if you do that,” Joel said gruffly, adjusting his hips so he pulled out halfway, before pressing himself back into you. The burn was delicious, and you fluttered around him, gripping him tightly after so much time missing him inside you. A garbled version of your name escaped him, and you whimpered in response, bucking your hips backwards, silently begging him to continue.

He set a gruelling pace, pressing into you relentlessly. One hand covered your mouth while the other gripped the front of your shirt tightly, holding your body still as he fucked into you. When your body jolted against the car from a particularly rough thrust, he muttered a gruff apology into your ear, but didn’t let up. Back arching, you contracted around him, revelling in the sound of the muted groans being let out against the back of your neck.

You bit down into his palm, a muffled cry escaping you. The thought of Ellie waking up and discovering the pair of you flitted through your mind and you cringed. But it disappeared from your mind just as quickly, Joel’s movements driving it away.

The air filled with sounds of heavy breaths and an odd squelching sound, as your slick squeezed around his cock and dripped out of you. Low curses spilled into the atmosphere, and Joel was saying something, speaking to you, but you couldn’t hear him over the roar of blood in your ears. Everything was heightening. The muscles in your abdomen tightened and twitched with every movement of him inside you, and your hips strained backwards, meeting him thrust for thrust. It was all so fast, so desperate, and your body was begging for release after being left untouched for weeks.

But right as you felt yourself reach a precipice, as Joel pushed himself to hit the deepest part of you, everything was ruined.

Because a violent image ripped through your mind of someone storming into the camp in that moment and dragging Ellie out of her sleeping bag. Of someone pointing a gun at you and Joel, while you were defenceless. The darkness of the night seemed to crush in around you, reminding you of its presence and suffocating you. Anybody, or anything, could be out there right now, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike.

Goosebumps rose across your skin. You gasped at the thought, icy dread spiralling through your veins, your orgasm drawing further and further from reach. Except Joel took your gasp as a good sign, and groaned in response, hand dropping your stomach to toy with your clit as his thrusts grew jerkier. You jerked against him, mewling into his hand. It felt good. It felt so fucking good, and yet you couldn’t focus, too distracted to lure back the orgasm that had been dancing in the edges of your periphery.  

Your head was a violent jumble of pleasure and panic. A devastated moan tumbled from your lips, mouth hanging open as the head of Joel’s cock angled against your g-spot.

“There?” he asked breathlessly, and you nodded, reaching to grip the back of his neck. He moved faster, pushing and pulling and hitting that spot over and over. And you could feel the coil inside of you burn again, liquid heat spreading through your limbs as your body tried to reach that high again, but it just wasn’t fast enough. The car was cold against the front of your body, and your brain was on such high alert, that you knew you wouldn’t be able to get there.

“Come with me,” Joel encouraged gruffly, fingertips holding your jaw in a bruising grip. “Come on now, let me have it.”

He was so close. You could feel it in the way his rapid heartbeat crashed against your back; in the ragged breaths that were exhaled across your neck. His hips were stuttering against you, thighs tense. And you wanted him to feel good. Wanted him to let go after so long – god, he deserved it. So you did something you’d never done with Joel before.

You faked it.

Your chin tilted upward to the sky, and you let deep, elongated breaths rattle through your chest, singing his name into the palm of his hand. Joel made a deep guttural sound. His fingers rubbed messy circles against your clit, and you bucked against him, heart thrashing in your chest. He said you’resotight, and you said I’m comingohgodJoelohfuck, and through it all, you could feel it growing inside of you. Your lungs burned inside your chest. He was stretching you so perfectly, so deliciously, and you let out a genuine moan at the feeling of his rough thrusts. You could feel him in the bones of your skull, in the tips of your toes, and in every inch of your body in between, and yet you needed more.

Joel trembled, his entire body shaking against yours. You felt his cock jump inside you in quick, jerky movements and clenched around him, and then he exhaled a deep groan, and went still.  

After a few moments, he pulled out, and you gasped at the cold sensation. Rapid breaths left his mouth, he peppered soft kisses down the side of your neck, removing his hand from your face only to wrap both arms around your torso and hold you against him. Your core ached, clenching around nothing as his spend seeped out of you, spilling onto your inner thighs.

Turning in his arms, you offered him a dazed look. Your body was hot, coiled like a string pulled taught, waiting to snap. He kissed you, with less rush this time, and you returned it lazily, reaching down to tug your pants up over your hips again. Your tried not to cringe as your underwear pressed against you. You were uncomfortably wet, and the cold material stuck to your tacky skin. Joel did the same.

Pulling back from the kiss, you rubbed the side of your jaw, flexing your mouth open in an attempt to soothe the ache that had settled there. Joel watched you all the while. His dark eyes flickered over your face, trying to see you through the darkness.

“You good?” he asked quietly, at the same time as you heard a twig snap somewhere in the trees, off to your left. Your head snapped to the side, eyes glaring out through the thick inky black, ears straining. “Baby?”

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head slowly. “Thought I heard something.”

Strong fingers gripped your chin, turning you to face him once more. A frown had settled across his face, eyebrows drawn tight across his forehead. His lips were a thin line, and his chest still shook as he regulated his breathing, but you could see it there; the understanding. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as nervousness zipped through your body. He knew. There was no way, you told yourself. No way he could have known. And yet the longer you stared at each other, the deeper his frown got.

Wordlessly, his hand dropped between your bodies, and he pressed his palm against your mound through your pants. A soft sound of surprise escaped your mouth as his fingers curled against you, pressing against where your clit ached. You whimpered softly, numb fingers gripping his hand and holding it against you. Recognition flashed in his eyes, and you stilled, hand going lax on top of his.

“Fuck,” Joel said gruffly. “Fuck.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to deny it, to tell him it was fine, to say anything, but a rustling sound caught both of your attention. It was coming from the same spot as before, only this time it seemed louder, more pronounced. Your breathing paused.

“Get in the truck,” he said.

“Joel,” you tried, panic laced through your voice.

“Get in the truck now,” he said, grabbing the hunting rifle from the truck bed. “I’ll get the kid.”

Blood rushed in your ears as you walked swiftly to the passenger side of the truck, swinging yourself up into the seat and shutting the door behind you as softly as possible. Anxious goosebumps rippled across your skin as you stared out the window into the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of Ellie or Joel. Minutes passed, and then the doors opened, and Ellie slumped inside, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, as Joel slammed into the driver’s seat, starting the car and tearing out of the field.

“Did you see anything?” Ellie asked from the backseat.

“No,” he said, not looking at either of you.

“Then why are w-“

“Go back to sleep,” Joel ordered her firmly, and you cringed at his tone, turning in your chair to offer her a sympathetic smile. She didn’t return it, laying down across the backseats and turning her back on the pair of you.

The car was entirely silent as Joel drove the three of you back onto a road, and continued heading towards Kansas City. And as much as your body yearned for sleep, you found yourself wide awake, eyes focused out the windscreen, watching the tarnished landscape pass you by, exposed up by the car’s headlights.

After an hour of driving, Joel finally spoke.

“Ellie?” he said, tone even.

No response came from the back seat. You watched him out of the corner of your eye. He repeated her name.

Satisfied when there was no response, he spared a glance in your direction, before turning back to look at the road.

As if against your own will, you whispered his name quietly, pleadingly.

“Don’t,” he practically growled.

“I’m s-“

“You thought I wouldn’t know?” his lip curled upward, a grimace painting his face. “Think that I don’t know you well enough to know when you’re faking it?”

Your entire body stilled. Heat prickled across your skin, and you prayed to a god you didn’t believe in that Ellie was truly asleep in the backseat. Your hands were clammy, and you wiped them fruitlessly against the material of your jeans, unsure of what to say. He waited for you to speak, and when you didn’t, a loose sigh rattled from his chest.

“You do this thing,” he said quietly. “When you come.”

“What?”

“This huge smile,” he frowned. “Like you can’t help yourself. Like it felt so good, that you can’t control your face, and you smile so big I can see every one of the fuckin’ teeth in your skull.”

“Joel—"

“Every time,” he interrupted firmly.

“I-“

“And I didn’t realise,” he whispered harshly. “How much I look for it – that I wait for it, I god damn expect it.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured feebly, heat flashing through you. You gazed at the side of his tense face, stomach twisting at his words. You’d never known you did that. Never known he would notice if one day you didn’t.

“You’re sorry?” Joel scoffed. His hands gripped the wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. “You should be angry.”

You watched him with bated breath.

“First time I touched you in weeks, and I didn’t even make sure…,” he trailed off, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. “Like you’re some fuckin’ toy.”

“It was good, Joel,” you spoke in a hushed tone, glancing over your shoulder at Ellie’s back. “I swear, I was just distracted, and it was dark, an-“

“It’s not good with me,” he said curtly, and you stopped, wetting your lips anxiously.

Before you could say anything else, a soft murmuring came from the backseat, as Ellie started to wake up once more. You cringed, straightening in your seat and returning your gaze to the road ahead.

“This isn’t over,” Joel said, voice rough. And when he turned his head to look at you, just for a second, you nodded in acknowledgement. A dark glint of determination shone in his eyes, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

A long, tense day passed by before Joel could get you alone again. You felt the frustration rolling off of him in waves. Those dark eyes watched you, uncaring of whether you noticed or not, his hands twitching towards you whenever you were close, aching to touch you, to repent. Without a chance to shower, you spent the entire day with a sticky reminder of the night before. You were uncomfortably wet, your own slick mixed with Joel’s come making a mess of your underwear, streaking down your thighs inside your trousers.

It was late afternoon by the time he spotted a house in the distance, and when he pulled up outside of it, he ordered you and Ellie to stay in the car while he checked it out.

“I’m fucking exhausted,” she said from the backseat, as soon as Joel was out of earshot.

“Me too, kid,” you muttered, eyes on the front door until he reappeared, giving the all clear for you both to get out of the truck and go inside.

“There’s a few rooms,” he told you as you looked around the house, eyes drifting over the dusty furniture, bookshelves, dining table. “Two down here, one upstairs.”

“Shotgun upstairs,” Ellie said quickly, heading towards the staircase at the end of the hall.

“Are you hungry?” Joel called out to her back.

Ellie paused at the bottom of the stairs and gave him a look that said what do we even have to eat? But all she said was that she was gonna crash, and grumbled something about him never letting her get any sleep as she marched up the creaking steps.

“I think I’m gonna get some sleep as well,” you yawned, stretching your arm out against your chest. Joel’s eyes flashed to yours, and he huffed quietly.

“Is that right?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. You faltered, pulse quickening at the insinuation laced in his words.

“I—”

“First door on the right,” he motioned his head towards the hallway, and you followed him wordlessly towards the room.

It was small, cosy. Late afternoon light gleamed in through a north facing window, and the sun’s rays shone across a double bed in the middle of the room, and a bare side table. Silently, Joel stripped the sheets off the bed, leaving them in a pile on the floor before unzipping his sleeping bag and draping it across the mattress.

“You tired?”

You watched his hands as they spread the sleep bag out, flattening out any lumps in it. Thick, long fingers pressed against the material, and heat spread through your lower stomach.

“Yes,” you said honestly, and he nodded, tilting his head to look at you. You unzipped your jeans and discarded them on the floor before crawling onto the bed.

“How tired?” Joel queried, kicking his shoes off and joining you on the mattress. He rested back on his heels, hands splaying across your kneecaps as he gazed down at you.

You mmm’d from the back of your throat, wetting your lower lip. “Not too tired.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped as his eyes drifting across your body, down your bare thighs, to rest on the dark spot on the front of your panties. His fingers traced down your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, until he gripped the hem of your underwear.

He pulled them down your legs, tantalisingly slow, and you watched with wide eyes as he lifted the ruined material up to his face. Maintaining eye contact, he held them over his mouth and nose, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away as he inhaled deeply. Heat soared across your cheeks, and you would have been ashamed, if it weren’t for the way you could see him beginning to bulge against the zipper of his jeans, hot and hard for you.

“I want you,” you whispered brokenly. Joel dropped your underwear onto the bed beside your body.

“I know,” he gritted his teeth, sliding his palms down your inner thighs and prying them apart so he could settle in between them.

One hand raised to cup your face and you smiled, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. His thumb grazed your bottom lip in a silent request, and you parted them for him instantly, welcoming the digit into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it, wetting it, and watched intensely as he lowered his hand down your body, and pressed the finger between your folds.

“Christ,” he cursed, mouth falling ajar as he felt you. “You been like this all day?”

“Yes, yes,” you whimpered.   

“Then I’m a fuckin’ monster,” he chuckled mirthlessly, staring between your legs with hooded eyes. “Left my best girl all worked up. God, darlin’, look at you; dripping wet for me, desperate for something to come on.”

“Please,” you exhaled sharply. “I need you, want your cock inside me so bad.”

He tutted quietly, shaking his head a little. “You think I deserve it?” his eyes flashed to yours, mouth downturned. “Think I deserve to be inside this pretty pussy, when I’ve been so mean to it?”

Your thighs tensed painfully as his finger started rubbing lightly against your bundle of nerves.

“Because I don’t,” he said ruefully. “Think I need to make it up to you first, what do you think, baby?”

“Okay,” you exhaled.

“And we aren’t finished unless you come,” he said darkly. “Do you understand?”

Your lips felt numb, tongue heavy in your mouth as you stared up at him through hooded eyes. Joel glared down at you, nostrils flared. “Say you understand.”

“I understand,” you finally mewled in frustration, twitching into the mattress as his thumb swiped over your pulsing clit. “F-fuck, Joel, please.”

His finger dragged between the swollen lips of your pussy, spreading you open so he could see your glistening core. He swore under his breath, the tip of his thumb gliding over your entrance where he could see remnants of his seed still easing out of you. His knees thudded against the old mattress as he dragged himself down the bed, and then his mouth was on you.

“Ohhh,” an exaggerated moan left your mouth, leaving your lips parted in an O shape as your head dropped back into the pillow. His tongue flattened to lick a stripe up your core, all the way from your entrance to above your clit and you shuddered into his mouth, crying out at the contact. His hands gripped your thighs and dragged them over his shoulders, pushing his face deeper into you.

Joel’s nose dragged across your clit as his tongue circled your entrance, and slurping noises filled the air as he cleaned the remnants of himself from your hole. You gasped, fire racing through your veins at the idea of him drinking down his own come, and your hips bucked off the bed. The tips of his fingers dug into your thighs in a silent warning to stay still. You clawed your nails into his scalp, raking through his messy hair, doing your best not to absolutely writhe against his face.

He groaned against you, pulling back momentarily to smirk up at you, your slick shining on his lips and beard. It was shameful, the way the noises he made went to your head. The deep, growling moans, the way his hums vibrated against you. You absorbed them and filed them away into your memory, somewhere only for you to ever see. Your hips framed his face, thighs bracketed over his shoulders as he gripped them, no doubt leaving bruises where his fingertips dug into your flesh.

Joel worked painstakingly slowly at first. His hot, long tongue glided along the entirety of you, and then he dipped it inside your weeping hole. Your eyes rolled back as he pumped his hot muscle in and out of you, until you were begging him to just please fuck me Joel please I’m sorry, but then he just sped up, moving upward to flick the tip of his tongue across your clit. You gasped, back arching off the bed as he swiped back and forth sharply, his lips suctioning around it as he abused your swollen clit.

And then one of his hands disappeared, and he eased a long, thick finger inside of you. He stroked along your walls, hooking his finger against your g-spot as you cried out his name, clenching around the digit. Encouraged by the response, he swiftly pushed a second finger inside, scissoring them and stretching you out as he sponged messy kisses against your clit.

Your mind was a blur. “Shit, Joel.”

Every single nerve, every point of feeling in your entire body, was directed to the apex of your thighs, and you trembled with the intensity of it. Every kiss, every lick, every suck was a reverent apology, a vow to never let it happen again. Joel was on his knees at the altar of his god, begging for forgiveness, and you were more than happy to grant it.

It felt like your chest was being ripped open as heavy breaths worked their way out of your burning lungs, heavy panting mixing in the air with the sounds of his tongue gliding through your wetness. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, and you moaned roughly as he let his teeth skate ever so slightly over your clit.

His fingers pumped inside you, curling against the roof of your channel in a continuous motion as his tongue rolled against your nerves. It sent a familiar fire spreading through your abdomen, warming your entire chest, until you were gasping for air, jaw aching as it hung open, in awe of every point of contact he had with your body.

You clenched painfully tight, pussy squeezing around his fingers as his tongue swiped back and forth across your clit. Joel hummed in encouragement, mouth buzzing against you in a way that sent you careening towards the edge even faster. It seemed like every muscle in your body was tightening. Arms tensed awkwardly, one hand buried in his hair, the other twisted in the sheets beside you. Thighs pressed against the side of his head, stomach burning as he built you up and up and up and—

“Oh, oh my—fucking god,” you sobbed as your orgasm hit, and Joel braced you against the bed, working you through it. Pleasure rushed through you like an avalanche. Stars burst behind your eyelids, and you let go of everything that had ever existed in your world except for Joel. You lost yourself in him; in the glide of his tongue against your core, in the way your fingers twisted in his hair, in the rough scrape of his beard against your inner thighs. He was everywhere, everything.

In time, you were vaguely aware of him pulling back, of only the drag of his fingers inside you remaining, and you knew he must have been watching you, raking in the sight of you so exposed.

“There you go,” you could hear him saying, somewhere past the ringing in your ears. “Give it t’me. That’s it, look so pretty like this, all fucked out just for me.”

And when he dragged his fingers out of you, it was only to make room for his head to drop down once more to suck and lick at where your orgasm dripped out of you, moaning as he went, desperate not to miss a single drop.

Finally, after the final waves of your climax had settled, and your limbs dropped heavily against the bed, he kissed his way up your body, wet mouth leaving a shimmering trail along your skin until he reached your face and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He pulled back after a moment, and you breathed deeply, lost in the way the sunlight danced across the back of your eyelids. You weren’t aware of the corners of your mouth tilting upward, of your lips peeling back to reveal your teeth as you grinned brazenly, cool relief coursing through you.

“Look at that,” Joel’s voice brought you back down to earth, and you blinked heavily, trying to focus your bleary eyes on his face. His hair was messy, a dark rough halo around his head as the sunlight shone around him. One side of his mouth was pointed upward, a small smirk decorating his features. “There’s that smile.”

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #my writing #fake it

[oh-my-damn]

Reverie

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav/reader

Summary: You wake up to your lover having a nightmare. You do your best to soothe him afterwards, but Astarion knows the perfect way to distract himself from it, and it includes having your naked body under his – among other things.

Wordcount: 5500

Warnings: Angst (regarding nightmares/Cazador), fluff (including cute nicknames for Astarion 🥹), smut (fingering, piv, unprotected sex, dirtytalk, explicit sexual descriptions, breeding kink, blood/blood drinking).

Masterlist

You jolt awake at the sudden movement against you, your mind alert and ready to face danger even if you were just hauled out of sleep.

Your wide eyes search the dark room for any threats, rapidly moving over the space until you realize no one is there.

But then there is another movement next to you, this time followed by yelling.

"No.. No! NO! Don't-please!"

You look to your right to find your lover tussled up in the sheets, his eyes firmly closed while he thrashes, his yelling intensifying.

"Please! NO!" Astarion yells again, making your heartbeat spike, your hands quickly finding his bare shoulders to offer him comfort.

He's asleep, clearly embedded in a nightmare that's causing him horrors you could only dare imagine, given his history. You keep your voice low and soothing to your best ability, your hands gentle when you stroke them up and down his arms.

"Stari, baby, wake up. You're safe. Wake up."

He doesn't react, instead tossing his head from side to side as he screams again. Your heart breaks at the terrified look on his sleeping face, your touches turning more determined to try and wake him.

"Astarion, hey. Wake up baby, you're having a nightmare, wake-"

He suddenly jolts awake, his wide, crimson eyes finding you in a panic, his breathing ragged. His cold fingers wrap around your wrist, and it takes a moment before he realizes who is touching him.

"Shh, it's just me, you're okay baby. You were having a nightmare."

His panicked eyes bounce between yours, a beat passing before he breathes in heavily, almost like he was suffocating under the pressure. His fingers stay wrapped around your wrist, but the touch turns more desperate than panicked, like he needs to touch you to ensure you're real.

"Shh," you coo, letting your hand run through his hair to soothe him, "It's okay, you're okay. You were having a bad dream, but you're okay."

He lets out a small sob, and then he suddenly wraps his arms around you. You let out an oopmf when he pulls you down to him, hiding his face in your neck, one of your hands continuing to caress his hair while the other strokes his arm.

You gently shush him, doing your best to help him calm down, and he gradually does, although he elects to stay quiet.

After a while, he calms more, allowing you to gently shift him around. You move to lie down on your back, pulling him with you, his face still buried in your neck while his arms wrap around your waist in an iron-tight grip.

He moves slightly to allow himself to lie on top of you, holding you close, and you wrap your legs around his waist to make the new position more comfortable for both of you. Your fingers gently move down his back, careful as they move over the scarring there, occasionally running up over his shoulders and the back of his neck.

You let him take his time, deeply breathing in your scent as your warmth envelopes him, his cold lips brushing over the skin on your neck occasionally.

You let your fingers travel up into his hair, carefully playing with his curls, and when you feel he's mostly calm you quietly whisper, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I'd just like to hold you a little longer, please."

His response is immediate, making you nod and wrap yourself tighter around him. He hums at the feeling, nuzzling his face into your neck while your fingers scratch his scalp.

"Okay, my love. Take your time. Do you want me to talk or stay quiet in the meantime?"

"Talk," he murmurs against your skin, "Your voice always helps."

You hum, smiling softly while you continue caressing him as if he was the most precious, delicate thing in the world – which to you, he truly is.

"In that case, do you want to hear about the time Gale almost consumed my favorite pair of boots?"

Astarion pauses, then huffs out against your neck, "That oaf would eat anything even remotely magical."

You chuckle, shaking your head, "That's the thing, they weren't even magical, he just figured they were."

Astarion snorts against your neck, and then he finally leans back to look down at you with an amused smile, "Are you telling me Gale almost consumed a pair of your normal boots for no reason at all?"

You smile up at him, reaching up to cup his cheek in your hand while you nod, "Mhm, and they were an old, dirty pair, too. I almost let him do it but I didn't want to be mean."

"How'd he get them if they weren't magical? Why would you give them to him?"

"He tried to steal them," you muse, and that makes Astarion chuckle, that beautiful smile of his finally returning to his face.

"You should have let him eat them, my love."

You grin up at your lover, and he mirrors it, his crimson eyes taking in the features of your face.

"I knew you'd say that."

He chuckles again, and then he leans down, his soft lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. He pulls back for a moment, but then he leans back down, kissing you more intensely this time. His lips move over yours languidly, like he's relishing in it, his lips careful and sweet against your own.

You let him control the pace, kissing him back with the same fervor, and then your stomach does a flip when he whispers against your lips, "I love you. Thank you for being mine."

You smile into the kiss, your thumb caressing his cheek, "Always."

Astarion hums at your reply, his lips moving over yours with more determination, his tongue swiping at the seam of your lips. You part them for him, granting his tongue access to your own, and he lets out a rumbling groan in response.

Your fingers slide back to curl in his hair, letting the soft locks envelop your digits before you lightly pull on it, earning another groan from him.

When his lips travel down your jaw to your neck, however, you let out a small chuckle, "Star."

He only hums, his lips lightly sucking on your neck while his tongue darts out occasionally to soothe your skin. You can feel a noticeable hardness growing between the two of you, pulling a breathy gasp from your parted lips when his hips grind down into yours.

"Astarion.. Are you trying to distract me so I won't ask about your nightmare?"

Astarion pauses, a moment passes before his lips latch on to your skin again. Then you feel something sharp and pointy pressing against your neck, scraping over it teasingly.

"Mmh, why on earth would you think that?"

"Because I know you," you snort, but it's becoming more and more difficult to remember why you're protesting when he presses himself against you again, his cock rubbing against your covered core. Your legs tighten around his waist in response, eliciting an amused chuckle from him.

"How about I make you a deal," he murmurs, his tongue swiping over your pulsepoint while his hips start to slowly move, rubbing his covered length against you, "You indulge me now, and I'll tell you all of my innermost secrets after. How's that sound?"

He starts grinding more determinedly, his clothed cock rubbing on your core in a way that makes your toes curl. You only manage to breathe out your words, halfway to a moan before you finish speaking, "Deal."

"Good girl," he hums, making your stomach flutter, and when you feel his fangs nip at your skin again you muse, "Are you hungry or horny, hm?"

"How about both?" He replies, his words followed by another groan when you tilt your hips up to rub against him, his breath catching before he whispers against your skin, "Will you let me have a nibble, my treasure? Just a little one, if you'll allow it – you just taste so sweet, you feel so warm and soft.. I can't resist."

You smile at his words, your fingers tugging on his hair again while your head tilts to the side, presenting the curve of your neck to him, "I'm all yours, you know that."

Your words earn you a few gentle kisses, his voice soft when he whispers, "I do. Just like you know that all of me belongs to you."

You gasp when he sinks his teeth into your neck, your skin stinging when it splits from the pressure. Astarion moans, latching on while his hips start moving more eagerly against you, his clothed cock pressing firmly into your core.

You moan in turn, feeling delirious at the combination of him drinking from you while the feel of his cock turns you into a needy mess, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Astarion drinks from you for a few seconds longer before he gently licks over the spot, his bite turning into delicate kisses instead. He licks his lips, kissing his way up your neck to your jaw, and then his lips brush over your ear when he whispers, "Would you like to know what I want, my darling?"

"Yes," you breathe out, a shiver running down your spine from the desire laced in his voice, "Tell me, please."

"Mmh," he hums in approval, one cool hand sliding down your side, his fingers brushing the side of your breast. Then it wanders back up, and you keen when his palm cups your breast through your nightdress, your back arching in response.

"I want to be inside you," he whispers in your ear, his deft fingers finding your hardened nipple through the fabric, "Gods, how I miss being inside you. It's been far too long, don't you think, my sweet?"

You moan out your words, your mind turning hazy, "You.. Oh gods, you were inside me this morning."

"I know," he purrs in your ear, his fingers squeezing the hard peak, "It's been far too long."

He buries his face in your neck as his hands travel down your sides, finding the hem of your nightdress. His slender fingers curl in the fabric before he starts lifting your dress up, sliding it up over your ass and hips. Then he leans back on his haunches, his crimson eyes watching as his hands reveal more of your skin to him, a smug smile painting his lips when he sees the panties covering you. You're wearing a new pair you found at Facemaker's; thin lacy material, more skimpy than your usual findings at the boutique, and you bought them specifically hoping that he would enjoy how they barely cover anything.

"Cute," he muses, fingers inching under the waistband, "All for me?"

You nod, letting out a breathless giggle when his touch tickles your sensitive skin, your eyes meeting his when they lift to watch your face. Then his expression turns more serious, one perfect brow arching.

"You know what I need," he says quietly, his lust-haze temporarily forgotten, "May I make love to you, my darling? I won't do anything further if you don't want to, but please take into account that I am dying to get inside you right now."

For Astarion, the most sacred part of your relationship was the constant reassurance and consent you both cherished from one another. It was the most important element, and something he took extremely seriously. Even after being together for years, he still wanted to hear you say, out loud, that you wanted to be with him before he took it too far.

You nod, smiling softly as your hand travels up his arm reassuringly, "Yes Astarion, I'd like you to make love to me. Please."

His lips lift in a smirk, and then his fingers curl in the waistband of your panties, "As you wish, my love."

His gaze drops to your lace covered core, his deft fingers inching their way underneath, but when his eyes flick back up to look at you, he frowns slightly, as if he is offended at suddenly noticing that your upper half is still covered by the nightdress you went to bed in.

Then he tuts, his fingers changing direction. Instead of moving south, they slide up your stomach, pushing the fabric up as they go.

His touch is cool on your skin, as it always is, raising goosebumps in its wake. You've learned to enjoy and crave the chill that comes with his touch, it feels like being electrified – like you're not truly alive until you feel the coolness of his fingers on you.

Astarion pushes the dress up to your stomach, pausing once he has the fabric bunched up right below your breasts. Then his eyes flick to meet yours momentarily before they move back to watch as he slowly unveils your breasts, a rumbling sound at the back of his throat when they bounce once he pushes the fabric over the plush mounds.

He releases a breath, his face dropping to your stomach before he nuzzles his way upwards, his lips moving over your skin. Then his tongue darts out when he reaches your breasts, licking over one until he finds a hardened nipple. He flicks it teasingly, then wraps his lips around it with purpose, sucking and nippling on the peak with another groan.

You keen, arching your back while your hands fly to his hair, shivering when you feel his cold fingers finding your other nipple to play with it in tandem. You squirm a little on the bed, grinding your hips upwards, your voice breathless, "Oh gods, your tongue is like the sweetest sin."

Astarion chuckles softly against your skin, he loves spending time worshipping your breasts – in fact, he loves worshipping every single inch of you – and you know that too.

He cups the plush mounds in his hands, pushing them together to better smother his face in them, moaning at how warm and firm yet soft they feel against his face.

You help him out by removing your nightdress completely, pulling it over your head to let him have free roam over your body.

His lips and teeth pull on one nipple while his fingers do the same to the other one, his large palms massaging the flesh greedily.

Your hips start squirming more insistently, your fingers back to pull on his hair as you let out a whimper, "Stari, please.."

"Please what, love?" He muses, experimentally biting down a little harder on your nipple before he switches to the other one, his fingers taking over the work on your now spit-covered peak, "Please continue or please more, hm?"

"More," you gasp, lifting your hips needily against him, crying out when he sucks and bites on your other nipple, "More, more, please, more."

Astarion hums, his lips staying firmly latched on your nipple while his hands travel down your waist again, finding the lacy fabric covering you.

His fingers hook in the waistband, and then he starts dragging them down over your hips and ass, groaning in annoyance when he needs to pull away from you to get them fully off. He sits back up, yanking them the rest of the way off you before he finally has you fully naked, his scarlet gaze dragging over your naked form.

"Finally, just as the gods intended for me to have you," he murmurs, his palms wrapping around your inner thighs. He spreads your legs wide, his piercing gaze on your soaked core, "Naked and writhing desperately, so needy to give yourself to me, isn't that right, my treasure?"

His gaze flits up to meet yours, making you nod, "Yes, I need you, please."

He grunts softly at your needy tone, his hands leaving your thighs to pull at his own underwear, now desperate to feel your skin against his without any barrier between you.

He quickly drags them down, his erection springing free and slapping against his stomach when his large cock is revealed to you. It never seizes to amaze you, the sheer size of him, and even after years of being together, you're still not used to how deeply he manages to fill you each and every time. His cock is thick, veins adorning the girth of him while the pink mushroom tip always steals the breath from your lungs.

It surprised you, at first, that his cock still had some coloring to it considering every other part of him is pale because of the vampirism. Astarion explained that it has to do with the very healthy bloodflow steadily streaming through it, and that had made you giggle at the time, because he made a point of telling you that it happened very frequently, especially whenever he is around you, and assured you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about in that department. Showoff.

It wasn't long after that you became obsessed with worshipping his cock, feeling how hard and heavy he would be on your tongue, his taste became an aphrodisiac to you. You've spent many hours tasting him, worshipping every part of him, not just his cock but his sack too, so heavy and somehow warm despite the usual coldness of his body.

Something else that fascinated you was how hard he could manage to get. Depending on what you'd do, it seemed like he would get harder, thicker, especially if he had been drinking from you. He loves drinking from you while being intimate, and you love it too, it feels like connecting on an entirely different level.

You're pulled out of your reverie when his fingers find your core, pressing against your wet folds and dragging down the slit of you. Astarions gaze is lustful when his eyes connect with yours, taking in how your breath hitches when his fingers brush over your sensitive button, and swipes down to experimentally press against your entrance.

He watches, taking in how your jaw goes slack and your back arches when he slowly pushes one thick digit inside you, a groan bubbling up inside him at how wet and warm you feel. And tight, so fucking tight, always squeezing him so snuggly it makes him want to bury himself in you and stay there forever.

You let out a moan when a second finger joins the first, the stretch delicious and welcome. He loves how you always spread your thighs a little wider on instinct, it's your body's invitation for him to ravish you however he pleases, and he adores that you succumb to him so easily, giving your entire being to him without restraint.

It's part of the reason he fell in love with you so quickly. After being used to holding back for centuries because he had to give himself to people he didn't truly want, it was fascinating to be with someone who so freely gave themselves to him, and only him. It made him feel things, the way you'd become so compliant and submissive even, how trusting you were from the very first moment he first touched your naked form.

His fingers set a slow pace, dragging out and then in again, while he leans over your body, his free arm caging you in. Your eyes meet his when his face leans over yours, his lips brushing over your own as you both moan in unison at the way your walls squeeze his fingers. He increases the pace, pumping them inside you quicker, his body covering yours while he fucks you with his fingers.

Your hands slide up his chest, curling around his neck, dragging him down to connect your lips in a wanton kiss when you can no longer hold back from feeling him against you.

Astarion moans into the kiss, his fingers moving quicker now, and then he catches you by surprise when he adds another finger, stretching you more to prepare you for him.

You whimper at the stretch at first, but his tongue swipes into your mouth to soothe you, and soon you're both moaning heavily while your tongues dance around each other.

"Need to be inside you," he suddenly whispers, his words tinged with desperation, "I need it. Now."

You barely have time to process his words before his fingers leave you, but it only takes a moment until you feel his cock prod at your entrance, pushing inside you slowly. Your hands grip his shoulders at the intrusion, his thick tip stretching you out, your breaths mixing as he pants into your mouth when he slowly enters you.

"Oh gods," you moan, tilting your hips slightly to grant him better access to slide home, "You're so big, you feel so good.."

"I know, sweet pet, but you can take it," Astarion whispers, leaning down to brush his lips over your ear, "I know you love how well I stretch you out, you're so tight, my love. You're gripping me so perfectly, I wish I could spend the rest of my life buried inside this sweet cunt."

His crude words make you moan, he always becomes more daring once he feels your walls around his cock, it's like a trigger going off in his brain, and you adore it. It turns you on beyond belief.

He pushes further inside, your hole stretching to welcome him, and then he lets out a deep, satisfied growl once he's finally fully sheathed inside you, buried to the hilt.

"There we go," he murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to your neck and up your jaw, "I'm finally where I belong, hm? Can't believe I have to spend all day doing other things when I could be right here."

He punctuates his words by grinding his hips into yours, reaching depths beyond even your wildest imagination. Your hands grip his shoulders harder, another moan ripped from your lips.

"I'm going to take my time, stretching you out," he murmurs, nipping on your earlobe with his teeth, "And then, I'm going to fill you up so deeply, you'll be dripping and soaked when I'm done. Would you like that, my darling? Would you like to be so full of me you can think of nothing but how every single part of you belongs to me?"

You whine in response, his tone taunting yet somehow still adoring, and the contrast makes your head swim. Your walls clamp down on his cock, forcing a deep growl out of him, his scarlet eyes narrowing, watching your face intently. You hold eye contact, your lips parting in a breathy moan when he pulls out ever so slightly only to thrust back inside, still waiting for your reply.

"I asked you a question, sweet pet. I said, would you like that?"

He pulls out and thrusts back inside just as you're about to reply, making you keen and stammer out, "Y-yes, I would-I would like that Astarion, please!"

"There she is," he whispers, pulling his hips back until only the tip is resting inside you before he snaps forward, filling you to the brink. "There's my good girl."

He sets off an intense pace, his strokes deep and hard, but the look on his face is loving. His eyes stay locked on you, watching the way your brows furrow in pleasure, your body flushing warm.

When your fingers pull on his hair he leans his chest to yours and tucks his face in your neck with a moan, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. His fingers dig into the flesh as he lifts your ass off the bed, giving him momentum to rut into you harder and faster.

You wail at the new angle, his thick tip rubbing over that spongey spot inside you, throwing your head back and baring your neck for him as you cry out.

Astarion growls in response, he can tell he found the spot that makes you unravel, his lips brushing over your skin as he husks out, "That's it, sing for me, sweetheart. Your moans are my favorite melody."

Then he sinks his fangs into your neck again, and the pain mixed with the way he's fucking you brings you to the edge and forces you to topple over it eagerly.

Your orgasm rips through you, causing you to tighten around his length while you cry out loudly, your fingers tugging on his hair roughly.

He grunts against your neck, licking over your sore spot, his voice restrained, "Fuck - your pussy is begging to be filled, the way you're milking me right now. Your body is just begging for me, begging to be stuffed, begging for me to fucking breed you."

You gasp, shivering when you hear the feral edge to his voice. The two of you have played this game before, it's one of Astarion's favorites. For some reason the idea of knocking you up makes him incredibly hard, and it does inexplicable things to you as well, even though you both know the odds of it ever happening are basically zero.

You whimper at his words, shuddering under him while you ride out your orgasm, his thrusts turning deeper, rougher, the tone of his voice possessive when he hisses in your ear, "Gods, just the thought of you, round with my baby, the thought of you being mine so thoroughly. I dream of it, you know. Dream of starting a family, watching you carry our child."

You gasp, your back arching while your hands slide down his back to embrace him, his thrusts turning sloppier. You can feel his panting breath against your ear, his voice turning ragged.

"I wish - oh gods, I want that more than anything," he moans, his lips dragging up your neck and over your jaw before they meet your own. You moan, kissing him deeply while he ruts into you, his own release nearing.

His fingers dig into your skin, his hips rolling against yours to reach as deep as possible, and then he presses his forehead to yours while his eyes hold your own captive, "I'm going to come inside you, my love. There's nowhere else for me, is there? I belong here, just like this – we belong like this. Joined together, in every sense of the word, forever. Isn't that right, baby?"

You whine and nod, tears starting to form in your eyes at the pleasure. Astarion chuckles breathlessly, reaching up to cup your cheek but his fingers quickly travel into your hair to tangle in it, "Fuck, oh gods, I'm-I'm close, you feel so good sweetheart, I can't-"

He lets out a deep, rumbling groan when he pushes his hips flush against yours, his warmth flooding your insides. You moan in turn at the feeling, your entire body overstimulated from pleasure.

Astarion doesn't stop, though; he keeps fucking you, slowly, sloppily, breathing out heavily against your lips while he fucks his spend deeper inside you, "Gotta fill you properly, don't I, my sweet? Can't let any of it go to waste, hm?"

You shake your head in response, whimpering softly at the sensitivity when he pumps into you a few more times, his moans deep and breathless.

He slows down, his hips eventually coming to a halt, releasing a deep breath before he tucks his face into your neck. He doesn't pull out, though – he remains buried inside you, another thing you know he thoroughly enjoys. You wrap yourself around him, holding onto him tightly while you both catch your breath and relish in the feel of each other.

Astarion breathes in deeply, inhaling your scent like he so often does, but when he speaks his voice is quiet, more solemn, "It was about you."

Your brows furrow slightly, your hazy mind trying to make sense of his words while he's still filling you. Your fingers dance up his back and into his hair, burying them in his soft curls, "What was about me, my love?"

"The nightmare," he whispers, "It was about you."

That makes you pause. Your frown turns more worried, concern lacing your voice, "What happened?"

"It.." Astarion hesitates, pulling his face out of your neck to look down at you. Then he gently cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your bottom lip, "We were back at the palace, with Cazador. And he.. He took you."

You blink, your eyes searching his scarlet ones, the emotion flooding his face and making your heart ache. You let your fingers move through his hair soothingly, tilting your cheek into his touch.

"What do you mean he took me, Star?"

"For himself. I was.. I was back, being his.. His puppet, his slave. I couldn't resist his hold. And I brought you there, and then he.. He took you, turned you into one of them. It felt like every piece of me was breaking apart, it was so real, so vivid; all I could do was scream and weep as he drained your life and turned you into yet another of his spawn."

You hesitate, unsure what to reply. Astarion has had nightmares before, they usually get worse this time of year – around the anniversary of the day you defeated Cazador. But he rarely wants to talk about them in depth, usually he just needs you close.

Knowing his screaming was because of what was happening to you and not himself breaks your heart even more.

You reach up to cup his face in your hands, letting your thumbs gently stroke his cheeks. His eyes glisten, the sadness you've unforunately seen before covering his features.

You keep your voice a gentle whisper, your eyes not straying from his, "It wasn't real, Stari. I'm right here - we're right here, together. Just as we will be, forever. I'm okay, we're both okay. He can't hurt you anymore."

"I know," Astarion sighs softly, breaking eye contact to study your face, "I know he can't, even with the nightmares, somehow I'm always sure that it's not real. But this time it wasn't me he was hurting, it was you, because he knew.. He knew that would be the greatest way to harm me, the only way to keep me under his command. He knew I would never be able to leave you, or risk him hurting you. He knew you'd become my biggest weakness, and he took advantage of that."

"It wasn't real, baby," you whisper, tilting your head a little until his eyes meet yours again, "I'm so sorry these nightmares still haunt you, but he can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt us."

"Part of it was real, though," he whispers hesitantly, searching your eyes, "The part about me not being able to ever leave. That part is real. If he.. If he was still a threat, if he was still alive, that's exactly what would happen. I could never leave you, I don't know if I could survive knowing he was hurting you. I would want to stay under his control for eternity if it meant I at least would get to be near you, with you."

You tear up, your mind conflicted - this is not atypical for Astarion. That a beautiful confession of love comes as a result of pain, but it's part of why you love him. You know every single declaration from him has been true, because he always makes them when he's at his most vulnerable.

You smile softly, caressing his cheeks, "I would endure any form of torture he could throw at me if it meant I'd get to spend my life with you in it, however that may be."

Astarion cracks a small smile, leaning his forehead on yours, "I never thought I would have this. I never thought I would fall in love, be happy like this. I never thought I would find someone I knew I would sacrifice anything for at a moments notice."

"Me neither," you murmur, letting your hands slide into his hair to the back of his neck, "I would do anything for you, Astarion. There is not a thing in this world I wouldn't do to make you happy."

"I would burn the entire world for you, my love," he whispers, his voice gravelly and serious, "I would walk through the nine hells, I would face any devil or deity to ensure your safety. To ensure you'd stay with me, forever. No one will ever take you from me."

Your smile widens, your cheeks flushing at his serious tone. You lean up to plant a quick kiss on his lips, and then you whisper, "The feelings mutual, you know. You're not going anywhere."

Astarion lets out a surprised chuckle, kissing you gently. When he leans down to tuck his face into your neck again, you let out a content sigh, "Although the nine hells sound like a big adventure, I think I'd rather stay here, wrapped around you for a while longer. Do you think burning the world down can wait?"

Astarion hums teasingly, kissing your neck, "Hmm, fine, you've convinced me. Burning the world can wait. At least for a little while."

#bg3 fanfic #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 smut #bg3 smut #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion angst #astarion romance #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion

[girlgenius1111]

with a high comes a crash.

barcelona femeni x reader

Alexia heard the sirens. Rationally, she tried to convince herself that it wasn't you. You had only left a few minutes ago, and the sirens were still pretty far. It couldn't be you.

Then the sirens got closer. And closer. And Alexia thought she was going to throw up. She couldn't decide whether to call you or not, afraid to distract you while you were riding if you were fine. She told herself that she was just driving to the dealership after you to give you a ride home. That was all.

She probably shouldn't have been driving, hands shaking as she turned the car on and pulled out of her driveway. The sirens were still loud, and she followed them; not because she was trying to, but because that was the direction she knew you'd been going.

When she turned the corner, and saw the accident scene a block down, she pulled the car over, and got out. She ran the distance towards the wreckage, slowing to a stop when she got close enough to see what was going on. Alexia surveyed the scene. First she saw a car that didn't look very damaged. There was debris on the road, though, and she followed it to find a bike on the ground. Your bike.

It looked mangled, crushed, and Alexia had to take some deep breaths, feeling like she might pass out. Once her vision cleared of black spots, she look back up, and she found you.

Well, what she assumed to be you. An obscured form on the ground, halfway across the intersection from the bike, surrounded by paramedics. The blonde was frozen for a minute, and then she wasn't, running forward at full speed, shoving past anyone who got in her way, until she was a few feet away from you. A paramedic rose from next to you, approaching her.

"Miss? You shouldn't be over here," he said somewhat firmly.

Alexia could only make a choked sound come out of her throat, eyes trained on your face. Your eyes were shut, blood covering the left side of your forehead. You looked so small, so fragile. Alexia clenched her fists, needing to keep it together.

"Miss, are you okay?" The paramedic asked, moving closer to rest a hand on Alexia's arm. She was swaying slightly, and completely pale.

"Is she okay? Is she alive?" Alexia croaked out. The paramedic looked closer at her, before his eyes widened. He did a double take, seeming to recognize you now that he knew who was standing in front of him.

"She's pretty banged up, but she's breathing." It wasn't very reassuring, but Alexia let the words wash over her, nodding her head. She forced herself to calm down, to act rationally. They were securing you to a backboard, strapping you into the neck brace. They were preparing to move you to the ambulance, and Alexia moved to follow them.

"I will go in the ambulance." She declared, and no one really bothered to argue with her, instead directing her to wait for them to get you settled, before gesturing for her to climb in with you. There was only one paramedic back there with you now, getting you attached to all sorts of machines. Alexia got her first good look at you as she sat down shakily on the bench. Her hands hovered over you, wanting to take your hand in hers, but unsure if she could without hurting you.

"You can hold her right hand," the paramedic said. She didn't really look at Alexia, but her voice was kind. Alexia wrapped your hand up in her larger one, as gently as if the the whole limb was broken, ready to crumble into a million pieces. Or maybe, that's just how Alexia felt.

A beeping sound jerked Alexia out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see your heartbeat on the monitor. She tried to figure out what it meant, what the little zigzags meant, but she was a footballer for christ sakes, and she didn't know if the little spikes were good or bad. She decided that they were good, that they meant that you were breathing, regardless of if anything else was going on.

Alexia was silent, gripping the seat under her as the ambulance weaved in and out of traffic. The paramedic seemed to be done attaching you to things, and she placed a piece of gauze on your forehead, holding it there before she looked up at your captain, and addressed her.

"She was moving around a little when we got there, so we're confident her spine is intact. Looks like both of her legs are okay. Pretty bad road rash on the left side, but nothing internal. Her ribs are a different story, the impact with the car has left a few broken. Her left arm is broken, too, probably in multiple places, from the impact with the ground. She was smart, and she had a helmet on, so while her pupils indicate a concussion, it could have been worse. It could have been a lot worse." As she spoke she pointed at different parts of you, explaining to Alexia what the bruises and cuts on you meant. Your left leg did look awful, scraped and bleeding. They'd cut your shirt off, and your abdomen was already turning a nasty shade of blue. The bleeding on your head was stopping, and you looked somewhat more comfortable. Alexia asked the question you knew you'd want her to ask.

"Her legs are okay? Really?" It seemed impossible to her, that the rest of your body could be so beaten up, but your legs were just scraped up.

The paramedic nodded, a bit of a bewildered look on her face. "Somehow, yes. There are no indications of any broken bones, and she was moving them around until she passed out. I don't... I don't know how. I've never seen an accident of this magnitude be so mild."

Alexia felt a shudder run through her at the statement; if this was mild, if this should have been worse... She shook her head. It wasn't worse. You were okay. You were okay. The paramedics studied Alexia for a few seconds before speaking again.

"I'm not supposed to say this, but you can relax a little. All indications are that she'll be alright. Banged up, yes. A few painful months in her future. But it's a miracle that she's alive, and an even bigger one that she isn't more injured."

Alexia let out a shaky breath, feeling like she could have leaned over and kissed the paramedic at her words. She appreciated the kindness she was showing her, the information she gave Alexia, that she wasn't really supposed to. The ambulance was slowing to a stop, and Alexia could hear raised voices approaching the doors.

"It's going to get pretty crazy in a second, and they won't let you in with her, but she'll be in good hands, I promise." Alexia nodded again, clearing her throat.

"Thank you. So much." She said, knowing that her words weren't enough to express her gratitude, but not really sure what else to do.

The doors opened then, and someone was helping her out of the ambulance. What felt like a million doctors and nurses were bringing you in the doors, one of them shouting for Alexia to follow them in, and find a seat in the waiting room.

Numbly, she did, sinking into the first available chair she saw. There were a lot of people she needed to call, yes. People at Barcelona. The other captains. Your teammates. Your national teammates. Her hands were trembling violently, though, and she suddenly felt dizzy again. She was in shock, she realized. How ridiculous. She was fine. Seeing you like that... it was the worst thing she'd ever laid her eyes on.

Alexia didn't make any of the calls she was supposed to. She decided that just for now, she didn't need to be a responsible captain. She could be someone that cared about you, who was terrified, and needed someone to get here and tell her that everything would be okay before she really freaked out.

She called the only person she knew wouldn't be mad at how emotionless her voice was about to sound. The only other person that she trusted to get here as fast as humanely possible, and know exactly what Alexia needed. Someone who could be in charge, just for a little bit.

-----

Mapi and Ingrid had to drive past the scene of the accident on their way to the hospital. Ingrid was driving, deciding that Mapi could call the people she needed to on the way to the hospital. The Spaniard was on the phone with Lucy when they drove by, and she got a glimpse of your bike, crumpled on the ground.

"Joder" She murmured, reaching a hand over to grab onto Ingrid's leg, anywhere she could steady herself on her girlfriend.

"What?" Ingrid asked, glancing over in concern at her girlfriend, who looked like she was about to be sick.

"What?" Lucy echoed from over the phone, sounding frantic.

"Nothing, nothing. Just worried." Mapi said, swallowing the bile rising in her throat. Neither of the other girls believed her, but they let it go.

"Okay, Mapi. I'm heading to the hospital now, Ona's with me, gonna grab Keira on the way. Call Irene. She'll decide who else needs to know."

"Okay." Mapi agreed. Lucy had never experienced such a reserved Mapi Leon before, one who followed her instructions without any jokes or comments. It scared her.

Mapi made the other phone call. Ingrid had grabbed her hand at some point, and Mapi wasn't really sure who was squeezing harder. She got through the call with Irene, who she made promise not to drive herself to the hospital, to have her wife take her.

"You're driving." Irene huffed angrily, not wanting to wait any longer to get to you, and to Alexia. Her wife wouldn't be back for 20 minutes. She needed to be at the hospital now.

"No, Ingrid is driving. Ingrid is calm in a crisis, and Ingrid is driving because my hands are shaking, so don't you dare drive. Don't you dare." Mapi's voice was thick, the horror of another accident happening washing over her. It was a ridiculous thought, but Mapi couldn't help the fear that was choking her right now. Irene agreed, a combination of Mapi's pleading voice, and the reason behind her words, convincing her.

"Okay. Just get there. Fast."

Ingrid accelerated.

-----

They practically stormed into the waiting room. It was mostly empty, an oddity for an afternoon in the city, but both girls were grateful nonetheless. They took one look at Alexia and came to the conclusion that she wouldn't really want anyone seeing her like this, let alone strangers.

"Ale?" Mapi said gently, moving forward. Alexia was sat in a chair, head in her hands. Her whole body was shaking, blonde hair falling into her face and blocking Mapi from seeing the tears that were surely falling. Alexia's head snapped up when she was addressed, and she stood, taking a frantic step towards her friend, practically collapsing into Mapi's arms.

"She was- it was so bad Mapi. The paramedic said she would probably be okay, but it was so bad. The bike was... and she was so far away from it..." Alexia's words were slightly strangled, and Ingrid regretfully pulled her captain away from her girlfriend, directing her back to her chair. Mapi sat next to her, and Ingrid instructed them both to stay put. She went to find water. Alexia was clearly in shock, and Ingrid knew that she would feel that she had to pull herself together before anyone else arrived.

'Calm in a crisis' Ingrid gave herself a minute to rest her head against the vending machine. Ale had said that the paramedic had said you'd be okay. That was all that mattered.

She returned, finding Alexia slightly better off than she'd left her. Mapi had pulled off her own sweatshirt, and yanked it down over Alexia's head. The blonde had only had on a t-shirt, and it was slightly cold in the waiting room. That probably wasn't the cause for the tremors running through Alexia's body, but regardless. Ingrid crouched in front of Alexia, uncapping the water and handing it to her, instructing her to take small sips. Alexia complied, and the couple exchanged a look. They'd never seen Alexia like this. Ever.

Alexia took several sips of water, before sitting back, and running her hands over her face. She relayed everything the paramedic had told her to the others, and they, in turn, told her the situation with the others due to be arriving soon.

After that, they sat mostly in silence, Ingrid taking a seat in the chair next to her girlfriend, knowing that the Spaniard needed her close. She needed Mapi close, too, honestly.

Lucy, Keira, and Ona arrived in a flurry of chaos. Keira was weirdly calm, Ona just looked freaked out, but Lucy was... a mess. She looked disheveled, like she'd been through a wind tunnel on the way to the hospital. She'd barely stepped in through the door before she was asking question after question, pacing back and forth, then sitting down, and then pacing again. Keira sat silently across from the other girls, while Ona hovered anxiously wherever Lucy went, not quite sure what to do.

Alexia's face had transformed completely when the others had arrived. She looked calm, expression deadly serious as she answered Lucy's questions. She was Captain Alexia again, putting her own feelings aside for the sake of the others.

She made Ona eat a granola bar when she decided that the girl looked too shaky. She made Keira come sit next to her, wrapping an arm around the Englishwoman. She finally told Lucy to stop pacing and sit down, after Lucy stood for the 18th time to go ask the receptionist for an update. Lucy listened instantly, sinking back into her chair without an argument.

Irene arrived a bit later, informing Alexia that she'd called Barca, and let the team know what was going on, but instructed them to not come to the hospital, because they didn't want to crowd the place. Only seconds after the words left her mouth, the doors were sliding open again. In came Pina, Patri, Cata, Jana, and Bruna. Irene looked at them, and sighed deeply. Her face could only be described as one of a person "considering early retirement."

To their credit, they were rather reserved, each accepting the tight hug that Alexia pulled them into, before finding chairs and quietly talking amongst themselves.

It was quite a sight to see when the doctor came out look for your family, and instead finding 11 members of the Barcelona women's squad, in various states of distress. They provided a brief update to everyone, before seemingly picking up on the energy Alexia was putting out, that if they didn't take her to see you, she would probably start throwing chairs, and allowing her and one other person to go back to see you.

Alexia followed right after the doctor, practically breathing down his neck. Mapi looked around, at Irene, and at Lucy, who both gave her a nod. You needed Alexia. And Alexia needed Mapi. Ingrid gave her a little push, and the defender walked down the hall, somewhat terrified for what was awaiting her there.

----

Getting hit by a car really fucking hurt, it turned out. Every bone in your body ached, and you were sure that if you opened your eyes, you'd find that you were just one large bruise. You were in and out for a while, not quite awake enough to open your eyes. You could hear people talking each time, though.

First, it was Alexia's voice, strong and confident, talking to the doctor. Then it was Alexia's voice, small and weak, telling you that you better wake up soon before she freaked out. If you were able to talk at that point, you would have pointed out that it seemed she was already freaking out.

Mapi's voice was there, then, telling you that, thanks, now Ingrid was NEVER going to let her get a motorcycle. Alexia laughed at that, but the laugh seemed to turn into a sob, and you could hear Mapi telling her to stop being so dramatic, because you were fine. She was using her soft voice, though, the one she used for the people she loved. (You, Ingrid, Alexia, and the cat. That was the list.)

When you finally did manage to wake up, it was dark out, and the room was slightly more occupied than it had seemed before. Mapi and Ingrid were both asleep in chairs against the wall, hands tangled together. You caught a glimpse of Lucy and Keira in the hall, on the phone with someone. Probably Sarina, you decided. Alexia was in a chair by your bed, as close as she could pull it. Her eyes were on you, absolutely staring into your soul, and you jumped a little when you realized.

"Jesus," you hissed, waves of pain washing through you.

"You're awake! She's awake. Guys, she's awake," Alexia said gleefully, turning to Ingrid and Mapi who woke up rather slowly. Alexia stood, leaning down to press a gentle kiss onto your gauze-wrapped forehead. When she sat back down, there were unmistakably tears in her eyes.

"Don't you ever, ever, do that to me again." She said seriously.

"I'll make sure to tell the car not to hit me next time." You agreed, matching her serious tone. Mapi snickered, and Alexia grimaced.

"Next time. You're never going on a motorcycle again. Or driving. I'm going to drive you everywhere, and you're going to sit in the backseat. And wear a helmet." Her tone was lighter, but you really weren't convinced that at least a part of her didn't want to do that.

You laughed, and then winced as the movement made your entire abdomen spasm with pain. Alexia's face scrunched with worry, and Ingrid and Mapi leaned forward. You didn't want the focus the be on your pain, though, so you asked a question you were dreading the answer to.

"What's wrong with me?" You asked, preparing yourself for the worst.

"Concussion, mild though. Broken ribs. Broken arm. The skin on your legs will be back one day, but no broken bones there." Alexia listed. You smiled again, delighted that your legs were okay, and a little moved at how hard Alexia was trying to make you smile, when it clearly looked like she'd had the most stressful day of her life. Which she probably had.

"When can I play again?" You asked. Alexia frowned.

"When you're all better." She said, refusing to give you a time that she knew you would latch onto, and meet, regardless of how hard it was.

"When Alexia is comfortable with you being more than 2 feet away from her." Mapi interjected, ignoring the look sent her way by both her best friend and her girlfriend.

The doors opened then, and Keira and Lucy walked in. They both lit up at the sight of you, awake and alert.

"You have to be the dumbest person on earth. Could no one have gone to buy your motorcycle from your house? You had to drive it again?" Lucy scolds.

"I like to keep things interesting." You say, smiling at both of them. They roll their eyes in response, each pressing a kiss to your cheek, before sitting in chairs on the other side of the room.

"Sarina?" You asked. They nodded. "How angry is she?"

"Her exact words were 'what the hell was she doing on a motorcycle,' and then 'I'll let Williamson deal with her. Whatever she comes up with will be far worse than anything I could manage.'" Keira tells you.

Leah would be killing you, you were sure. You turn to Alexia, who had been too quiet, and definitely not scolded you enough.

"You're making me move back in with you aren't you?" You ask, eyeing your captain warily.

"Yes." She said, daring you to argue.

You sigh. "Where am I going to park my new bike at your place?"

Alexia's face gets all red as the room falls into laughter and you smile at her triumphantly. "I will lock you in your room." She says through clenched teeth.

"I'll sneak out the window like last time," you dismiss. "Mapi showed me how."

Alexia turns to Mapi, trying to manage some anger, but she's really too grateful for everything her friend had done for her today. her expression softens when she meets Mapi's eyes, and Mapi goes from looking like she's in trouble, to softening as well.

You watch the strange interaction, and realize that today must have really been hell for Alexia. Hell for everyone, but Alexia was a worrier, and as established, she cared a lot about you.

She'll have plenty of time to fuss over you, though. The next months were sure to be painful and awful, and you were secretly glad that Alexia was moving you back in. You weren't good with pain, or sitting out, or taking care of yourself like you should. Everything felt okay, now, because you were alive, and not paralyzed. Tomorrow would be harder. As you have this thought, you reach for Alexia's hand with your one uninjured arm. She turns to you, grabbing it tightly, and sending you a reassuring smile.

Her face told you that she knew what you were thinking, and the determination there told you that she would get you through this, whatever it took. The whole team would. You relaxed slightly. You could deal with tomorrow tomorrow. Today, you focused on the joy of being alive, and joking with your teammates.

-----

hope this was worth the wait :)

not opposed to an angsty recovery part 3 but let me know your thoughts.

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader

[lightasthesun]

thinking about Obi-Wan and Cody's last scene together in revenge of the sith but specifically the NOVELIZATION and how Cody flirted with Obi-Wan in a way that made Obi-Wan Kenobi 'Master of Sass and Trolling', the FAMED Negotiator blush and duck his head!!! and wondering if perhaps the fact that this was potentially their last battle and that Obi-Wan had just killed Grievous and they all could practically FEEL the end of the war brushing against their fingertips had given Cody that spike of courage, hope, peace that had made him pursue the drumming of maybe maybe maybe to his heartbeat that led to Obi-Wan blushing so profoundly he tried to fucking laugh it off and then zoooooomed tf out of there on bogas back.

#i am likely totally exaggerating the emotions because I can only really remember cody flirting and Obi-Wan blushing but STILL #like #imagine being Obi-Wan and the war looks like it'll end in perhaps a few hours??days?? and suddenly your handsome commander and partner #switches the tone of your usual banter just a NUDGE and suddenly you're BLUSHING #and questioning your entire relationship like #oh. OH. #codywan #bye #sorry #does this even make sense to anyone else #text post

[angelltheninth]

Leon Kennedy + Thank God You're Alive

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, bit of anght, kissing, hard and fast sex, creampie, sweet Leon Kennedy

A/N: Post mission stress can hit HARD, so the sex should reflect that.

He thought he lost you, he really did. Seconds later he saw bullets flying and you running towards him with a smug grin. That was so dumb of you, but Leon can't be mad when he throws his gun away and grabs your face instead, pulling you into the most desperate kiss you've ever experianced. You both taste of blood, smell of gunpowder and dirt but he doesn't care to wait until you get back home.

"What were you thinking, running in front of it like that? What if you didn't get out the way... I... fuck you. Not just saying that by the way. I need you. I want to make sure you're okay. Think of it as me checking for injuries, very thoroughly."

As soon as you get to the base he wastes no time getting your dirty clothes off and throwing you onto the nearest bed he can find. The door is locked shut in a haste, he barely gets to taste your pussy before his cock gets the better of him and he pushes it in. He feels you pulsing around him, he feels your skin under his hands, your chest rising and falling, your heartbeat speeding up the more horny you you get.

"There will be time to taste you after. Right now I need to be inside you or else I'll go crazy. Sorry but I'm not gonna hold back, this adrenaline needs somewhere to go. You can take all of me already. What's the matter, did you want it way back in the car? Were you seconds away from dropping to your knees for me?"

He keeps his hand over your heart, thrusting in sync with your heartbeat. Every part of him that you trace is shaking with his lust and love for you. There isn't a part of your body that he leaves untouched, as he promised he will check all of you. When you come and your heart spikes up a string of words of love fall from his lips, a rush of warmth washing over you both inside and out, outside are his hands, lips and words, inside is his cock and cum.

"I promise, I'll watch your back, I'll love you until you get sick of me. Hopefully never. No hey, keep that cum inside. If we almost lost our lives today, how about we start a new one? You and me."

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagine #leon imagine #resident evil imagines #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy thirst #leon kennedy thirst #leon thirst #resident evil thirst #leon s kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy x female reader #leon x female reader #resident evil x female reader

[sprout-fics]

This is one of my nastier thoughts-

Hide and seek gangbang. Reader (bottom) hides somewhere on base and the first one to find her gets to fuck her while everyone else watches (or joins in 👀)

This was so much fun, I may have to do a matching one for Price and Gaz!

“Ohh songbird…”

You feel your heart hammer against the cage of your ribs, hands planted across your face to prevent even a single sound from escaping at the tenor of Johnny’s voice floating through the unused warehouse, sing-song, teasing, hungry.

It’s been the better part of an hour since you were chased in here, sneaking through the dusty aisles of upended crates and empty shelves. The flickering dimness of this space seems to only add to the rapid thump of your heartbeat, muscles coiled in preparation to run, to flee should you be discovered.

“I know you’re in here.”

He’s close. Too close. You can hear his footsteps from where you press yourself inside the shadows of a doorway, his heavy boots a purposeful, slow echo throughout the empty space. It’s almost like he wants you to know exactly where he is, advertises his presence with every noise. What his strategy is, you aren’t sure, but you’re certain that if he gets any close he’ll find you for sure, claim his prize only to set you free once more.

“Come out come out, wherever ye are…” He chuckles, and you rise slowly from where you crouch, tip-toe to the door and see the profile of him vanish just beyond the edge of the hallway. It gives you the chance you need, and you quickly but quietly move down the other direction, keeping eyes on where he’s disappeared to. 

Yet then your foot crunches against something fragile and you freeze, hear his pleased little noise of realization a split second before you bolt, shoes hitting the floor harshly as you sprint away from the sound of his pursuit. 

“There you are!” Johnny calls gleefully from behind you, and christ- how did he close the distance so fast?!

You skid around the next corner, nearly stumble, and launch yourself forward past a darkened doorway yawning into a pitch black room-

Skeletal hands reach out, snatch you mid-step and drag you backwards. You yell from behind the palm covering your mouth, adrenaline spiking in your blood and trying to thrash away from Ghost as he hauls you further into the darkness. 

“Caught you.” He murmurs in your ear as your hands are dragged behind him, back flush with the rigid surface of his tac vest. It sends a jolt of something through you, dark and thrilling as he overwhelms you with his adamantium strength, smears charcoal across the inside of your skull with his mere presence. 

It only grows when the zip-ties fasten around your wrists, and you again try to squirm free with no success. 

“You’re a fast little bugger.” Johnny pants as he leans on the doorway, his gloved fist planted on the frame. Yet his eyes dance with delight as he witnesses you caught in Ghost’s grasp, dragging his lip between his teeth at the conflict of outrage and desire in your gaze. 

“Hells bells.” The Scotsman breathes, and he steps forward, his hand falling to the bulge in his pants, which he idly strokes through his pants. Yet then his eyes catch that of Ghost’s behind you and he grins, untamed and starved. “Teamwork makes the dream work, eh LT?”

You fuckers.

“Get in here Johnny.” Ghost offers instead, and you clamp your thighs together as his hand abruptly descends into your pants, your wetness soaking through his gloved fingertips. 

“Looks like our pet likes to be chased.” He observes, and if you didn’t know him better you’d swear he sounds detached, playing the villain. It only ratchets the excitement inside you higher, and you answer it with a muffled yell that only summons a chuckle from the sergeant before you, now pressing against your front and sandwiching you between the two men. 

“Tough luck, us finding you first.” He tuts, and his hand raises your shirt and presses flat against the softness of your stomach appreciatively, suggestively. “Won’t be much left for Price and Gaz once we’re done with you, hen.”

You stare defiantly up at him, and it only seems to please Johnny, who’s eyes dance bright in the dimness and his fingers rise to tug a nipple. It makes you falter for a moment, the sudden sharp sensation making your expression shift into something wanting, a little mewl escaping you at the pleasure that rises inside you between his fingers and Ghost’s digits stroking against your folds. 

“Fuck, we’re going to ruin you.” He promises, and Ghost hums a dark, pleased assent in response. “Fill you up and send you scampering so the others can hunt you down and have their fun too, aye?”

Ghost presses down on your clit and you mewl, nod frantically in an effort to get them to really touch you, giving into temptation and erasing this farce of pursuit that’s led you here. Ghost notices and huffs a laugh, low and dark in your ear. 

“So needy, pet.” He murmurs, and you shift so you can grind yourself down onto his hand, eyes fluttering as it stokes the pleasure burning inside you. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.” Johnny promises, and gently pulls Simon’s gloved hand away, tilts your head so his lips descend to meet your own. “Just need to ask us for it.”

You consider escape once more, but between Johnny’s decadent touch and Ghost’s unyielding grasp, you find yourself with few other places you want to be. 

You surrender, gasp out your reply in a wanting sigh that spills across his tongue. 

“Please.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soapghost x reader #john soap mctavish x you #thursday night thots