#ALRIGHT LET DEW THIS!

[gh-woah-st-v1]

would that i by hozier is such a mountaindew song

[peachesofteal]

Fae Simon strikes me as the kind that would lure and trap his future wife in a fairy ring. She doesn't believe in magic or superstition when she steps across the ring...until a masked figure appears out of thin air and spirits here away to his realm.

This gave me brain worms for Gaz (and I'm already working on another fae Simon piece so)

female reader / 18+ mdni - dubcon(ish)

"So sorry. You alright love?"

The stranger's hand curls around your elbow, steadying the precarious tip of your body, balance disrupted by the impact of his shoulder to your chest. "My fault. Didn't see you there."

Fuzzy synapses fire in your brain. They reach for one another, desperate to click together, to link their hands and jolt you back into the moment.

You blink. The wind turns cold.

"It's... okay." He's beautiful. Blinding. Terrifying. Something about the angles of his face, his cheekbones, his brow, forces your head to cock, sight focused and then unfocused, as if you're staring at a star.

Your mind feels empty. The sidewalk becomes a bog, fetid and thick beneath your feet.

Where have you gone? Lost somewhere?

He doesn't let go. The axis tilts, world stopping on a dime, collective breath stalled on an inhale, and you stay trapped there, a hand on your elbow, rooted to the ground.

Lovely girl. It purrs in your heart. Precious thing.

His chest brushes yours, his nose to your neck. A deep inhale, and his fingers glide up to your pulse point.

He murmurs something. You break the surface of the water, and blink. "I'm sorry?"

"Said, do you want me to take you home." The question doesn't end in the proper inflection, and you scramble to consider it, to let it sink in-

until he takes your hand.

"Fuck. Oh-" His tongue laps over your clit, fingers spread in a V through your folds, sticky dew webbed through his teeth, coating his tongue, his chin. He smirks.

"Going to come again?"

"Yeah," you breathe, spine arched, hips rolling in his grip. "Please." You tremble for him, cry for him, and he laps up the salt of your tears, savoring before swallowing, taking as many pieces as he can into himself.

The more the better.

He works you up and over the hill, pussy tight around his fingers, and as you lay prone and panting, he pulls your calf up to his shoulder, heavy cock nestled at your seam.

"Condom?" you slur, head rolling to your neck, satiated gaze peeking up through your lashes.

"Of course." He soothes, lies, smoothing a palm down your cheek, his nose touching to yours. It forces some friction, head notching against your swollen and tender bud, your gasp swallowed up in his mouth.

More pieces.

"Kyle," you whine, and it sounds so good, feathery and sweet, precious like you.

He takes no more time, and thrusts himself deep, burrowing into your body with a groan. You seize, fluttering around him, crown of his cock too deep for comfort, trembles wracking your spine. Wet heat explodes around him, and he chuckles. "Coming again, then?" He flexes his hips. "Hungry little slut, aren't you?" You nod, delirious, fingernails dug into his forearms, slicing at his skin.

"Fuck me, Kyle, p-please." He squeezes your calf, drawing away completely, before slamming back until his balls shove against the curve of your ass, your shriek music to his ears.

He needs you to cry. Needs to swallow as many as he can. Needs to collect each one, make sure they stick, but it's more than that. He's craven, fueled by a desire to possess you, claim you, drag you beneath the veil. Flint to steel shoots off sparks in his blood, the craze of the hunt, the chase, echoing through the slap of skin, your hiccups and moans, the crack of your bones.

He bites your calf muscle and croons. "Almost there."

"D-don't stop." You plead, already on the cusp again, pussy trying to milk him dry, pull his cock deeper, body knowing it all before your mind.

Your eyes are surprisingly hypnotic. Nearly magical, pooled with a connection he's never felt. More resilient than expected.

Lovely girl is special, it seems. He's not surprised. He followed your scent from blocks away. Honeysuckle and ocean spray.

Once he fucks you full of his come, collects all his pieces, it won't matter how naturally resistant you are.

Everything tightens, your cunt, his legs, his grip. You scream, coming again, and he buries himself, flooding you with thick ropes, your spasms only pulling them deeper, hungry for it, betrayed by your body.

You're still afterwards, staring at the ceiling, eyes wide.

"Did so good, sweet thing." He strokes over your skin, tongue tracing stripes on the slope of your neck, dabbing at the sweat there. You murmur something incoherent, and he pulls you tighter into his chest.

When his fingers tuck inside your weeping pussy, swirling together in the mess there and massaging it upward, you don't even stir.

The sun sets, and he lingers on the edge of your mattress before curving over your sleeping form.

His lips graze your neck. "Sleep well, lovely girl."

The forest is too tall.

What are you doing here? Where have you gone?

Everything stretches beyond your reach, long spindly fingers reaching for the sun, blotting it out, plunging the worlds beneath the canopy into darkness. It lives, it breathes, inhaling and exhaling as one, splitting open brambles and bracken before you, a path cleaving wide through overgrown deciduous trees and verdure.

It's a jewel, an emerald caught in sunlight, brilliant, unending green sparkling across the forest floor, ferns and fiddleheads shivering free from morning dew as you brush by them, roots and branches calling to you, to one another, darkening the path at your back.

You're not sure how you got here, how your legs carried you deeper and deeper into the woods, fire burning at your back, urging you forward, a pull resonating in the marrow of your bones, a song thrumming in your heart.

Something calls to you.

And in the back of your mind, something else wails in terror.

Ancient places have claws. They snag and scrape, slowly scratching away body and mind, breaking down resistance, intelligence, all human instinct designed to protect you, save you, from yourself, from a spell.

You've gone somewhere it cannot follow.

The trees wilt into arches, framing a long shadowed hallway, pointing you the direction you will not stray from, a path pulling your feet, one in front of the other.

The end holds a moment. A soft, green swath of grass, encapsulated by a ring of mushrooms, a proud hawthorne tree at its center. You have no words in you, but if you did, they'd be ones of awe.

And when the stranger from the street, the one from your bed, Kyle, appears from behind the gnarled trunk, something swells in your belly.

A blackened vine snaps and snarls at you, resists the lure of this man, this creature, sharp wails drowned out by the mere sight of him.

"Hello." Your fingers knit together at your waist. He smiles. It stuns you like you've been stabbed.

"Hello, lovely girl."

"I think... I'm think I'm lost." Not lost. You're not lost. You're not supposed to be here. The vine tries to grow into your muscle and bone, desperately wrapping itself around anything it can.

"You're exactly where you should be." He steps forward, closer, a hand extended to where you linger, just outside the ring of mushrooms.

The vine screams. It begs. You're killing it.

His eyes narrow.

"Will you join me?" His voice soothes the raw, ferocious thing clinging to you. It feels nice.

Still, your feet do not carry you forward, and he sighs, striding to the edge of the circle.

"What's happening?" The panic fogs your mind, and thick mist rolls in around the two of you. He softens, expression turning kind, sweet.

"It's alright, you're safe with me." He takes your hand, thumb massaging a pattern onto your palm.

The shrieking falls away, dying, crying on a final breath.

"You have to say it." He instructs gently. "Will you join me?"

The forest falls away. The mist climbs to an immeasurable height, the hawthorne tree twisting, bark shredding wide into a gaping hole, a star filled hollow.

The wind turns cold. A lullaby drifting on its current, a forgotten song ringing in your ears.

Where have you gone? Lost somewhere?

Lost in him.

"Yes."

[jasminumdew]

Bear! Price in his mating season

Warning: minors do not interact

Tags: bear shifter, p in v, knotting, breeding, hurt, comfort

Word count: 720

When there’s not much to do in the morning, you usually go on the morning walk with John. Sometimes he’ll agree to let you sit on his back and go out to the woods in his bear form. You always enjoy those days, to be able to breathe in the fresh air and see the leaves and flowers covered by the morning dew, hearing the early birds’ singing fill the area. But today you didn’t seem to pay any attention to those. 

You’ve been trying your best to ignore how your cunt keeps leaking, and how his back muscle brushes through your clit lightly when he moves, making you clench on nothing. Only 15 minutes in the woods and you already want to push him down right here and ride his thick fat cock. And John knew, his nose told him all what he needed to know and he decided today’s the perfect day to breed your fertile womb. Now when you’re so ready for his seeds, actively grinding on his back, he can barely control himself. 

“Get down”

His voice so stern it scares you for a sec, you climb down, cupping his face in your hands. “Is there something wrong, love?” you asked, looking down at him. But he only takes a step back and returns to his human form, eyes hungry like he wants to eat you alive, cause he’s about to, with his fully erect cock and tip already leaking out. He breathes in your sweet arousal scent while approaching you. Before you know it, your back is pressed to a tree trunk, thighs squeezing together to ease the throbbing, only for him to scoops you up, legs wrap around his thick abdomen, his cock pressed against your needy cunt, making it oozes more nectar. 

“Why are you acting so shy now, love? You didn’t seem shy rubbing your sweet scent on my back just a few minutes ago” 

You hide your reddish face on his neck, taking in his musky scent. “I didn’t mean to. You were moving…weird and I’m ovulating today so I..”. John bites down on your neck, making you yelp and cut out your words: “It’s fine, darling. I understand. I’ll make you feel better now”. 

Immediately, he guides his cock into your warm pussy and fills you up to the brim. His mouth sucking and nibbling on your neck then moves down to suck on your sensitive bud while his hand caresses the other. The forest seems to quiet down, and John only hears the sound of you whimpering his name. When you reach down to rub your clit, his hand which was playing with your buds now pushes your hand out to flick your pearl. You cry out, the velvety wall squeezes like it wants to milk him right then and there, the fire in your lower abdomen finally burns you whole when John thrusts up to your cervix wall. 

Too drunk on your pussy, he couldn’t resist the urge to put his seeds into you and make you the mother of his cubs, his bear form slips and accidentally knots your bodies together. He grunts, feeling how stretched your cunt now is, and how your nails dig deep into his arms. Then the tears in your eyes pull him back to reality. You haven’t taken his knot before, gosh it must be hurt, it hurts him too seeing tears keep pouring down your chin. He lies down carefully so his knot doesn’t hurt you more, letting you rest on his chest. “You alright, love? I’m sorry, darlin’. I wasn’t thinking clearly” he strokes your wet cheek “Does it hurt too much?” 

You sniff “It’s better now. It’s fine, keep going baby”. He doesn’t reply, instead he just wipes your tears away, watching your expression until you seem relaxed, then he slides his hand down to play with your swollen clit until you grind on his knot and beg for him to move. John pulls you down to kiss your face lovingly, his thrust slower and gentler than ever, pulling another orgasm out of you before releasing inside your abused cunt. 

Maybe this is another reason you enjoy your morning walk.

Note: he looks so cute I want to suck his c

[misswynters]

Seaside

Addam Velaryon x Targaryen Princess!reader

[note | my very first drabble for the handsome valeryon bastard! nothing of the reader’s appearance is specified :3

[a/n: this was not planned and was out of a spur of the moment kinda thing <3

The night sky was clear, dotted with stars that shimmered like diamonds on black velvet. The salty breeze from the sea wafted through the open windows of the Dragonstone balcony, carrying the faint sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below. You stood there, wrapped in a fur-lined cloak, gazing out at the horizon where the sea met the sky. The cool air nipped at your cheeks, but you found comfort in the tranquility of the night.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you close. You leaned back, melting into the familiar warmth of Addam Velaryon. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his silver hair tickling your neck.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You sighed, shaking your head. "Just needed some fresh air. Dragonstone, the handmaidens, the lectures, everything feels so stifling to me sometimes."

Addam chuckled, his chest vibrating against your back. "I know what you mean. It can be quite... unbearable."

You turned in his arms, looking up into his eyes. They were the color of the sea, deep and full of secrets. "But it has its moments," you said, a smile playing on your lips.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Especially when shared with you, my princess."

Your heart swelled at his words. Being a Targaryen princess often meant a life of duty and expectations, but with Addam, you felt truly seen and cherished. He had a way of grounding you, of making the burdens you carried feel lighter.

"Let's take a walk," he suggested, taking your hand. "There's something I want to show you."

You followed him down the winding staircase and through the moonlit gardens of the castle. The flowers seemed to glow under the soft light, their petals glistening with dew. Addam led you to a secluded spot overlooking the sea, where a small picnic was laid out, complete with a blanket and lanterns casting a warm glow.

"What's all this?" you asked, your eyes wide with surprise.

"I thought you might like a change of scenery," he said with a grin. "And I know how much you love the sea."

You settled down on the blanket, pulling him down beside you. The two of you sat there, sharing stories and laughter, the world outside fading away. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the night and the warmth of Addam's love, you felt truly at peace.

As the night wore on, you rested your head on his shoulder, your eyes growing heavy. Addam wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. "Sleep, my love," he whispered. "I'll keep watch."

With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes, knowing that as long as you had Addam by your side, everything would be alright.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @spn-obession

banners: @cafekitsune

[justblades]

┈── ⟣ tracing their tacet marks! scar, jiyan, & aalto

notes: fluff & slight crack, reader is rover, gender neutral! reader. inspired by this tweet, not proofread.

SCAR : with feather touches, you trail the lines of the tacet mark on his neck with your thumb, drawing zig zag lines to follow its outline. his lips were sewn shut the first second, but gradually lets loose as he realizes what you were doing.

"having fun, rover?" he queries with a growing smirk carved on his lips, heterochromic eyes of solferino red and slate gray hues carefully watching yours as your vision anchors to the end of the mark on his neck.

the male then wraps his dominant hand around your wrist, much to your surprise and proceeds to inch closer, rubbing his scarred, sunken cheek on the back of your hand. the same smile still carved upon his features, a tranquil atmosphere envelops the two of you. as if you were put in a trance, his ivory colored locks ripple along the gust of the wind that blows. "i've always known you were a curious one. don't worry, you can always do whatever you'd like to me."

his tone insinuates something different from what he says, as always, he likes to dawdle around words that are more than what meets the eye. yet still, you couldn't help but indulge in a passing moment where silence runs through your system and revel in the fact that you get to do this to scar, who's always, for some reason, unpredictable at times. grateful for your status as a rover, this is a privilege you had come to appreciate in each day that elapses.

you can tell for certain this part of his doesn't receive that much attention, nor affection - evident enough from his expression. he simply closes his eyes, letting everything at the moment unfold naturally with no more unnecessary remarks to be told. "feel free to do whatever makes you happy."

JIYAN : the general gazes solemnly at the vista of infrastructures in the jinzhou city, getting lost at the view as petals of emortia brush softly back and forth on his legs. a strong, gelid wind blows upon your dewed skin, you notice how he hangs his head low, now admiring the bed of flowers where his efforts brought him - a sudden thought lighting up his mind.

he sits down on the field, one leg up and the other resting on the ground. the teal haired then calls to you, "come, sit beside me." voice laced of resolution and velvet, his tone was not of command, but an honest request. you tread towards the general's figure, his broad back and the tacet mark exposure befitting the view in front of you.

curiosity piques your mind, when suddenly, your index finger ghosts a touch on the middle of his mark. a jerk movement erupts as a bodily reflex, his lips part wide from the unanticipated gesture - tassel earrings dangling along his movement as he looks at you with a confused expression painted on his face. "apologies, that was unexpected . . ." he pauses, golden eyes anchoring from your hand to your face. "but i'd like to ask why."

a short silence with no sound but the wind blowing ensues, "your tacet mark's bigger than those i've previously seen. sorry for the unprompted touch like that." you display an apologetic smile, eyes squinted with a hint of begging for the general's mercy. he turns his attention back to jinzhou's breathtaking scenery, feeling the breeze once more with his guard let loose, at least for now.

jiyan flashes you a small smile in return, "no problem. i don't mind." he simply answers. as if you could see every glimmer of light from the city reflecting in his amber eyes, you could get lost at the imagery inside as you proceed to draw the outline of the tacet mark on his back.

a darker color in stark contrast to his fair skin, the view becomes even more beautiful: the general simply lives in the present tranquil moment, perhaps these light touches will serve as a soft reminder that it is alright to rest once a while. after all, being a general is being a bastion of hope and resolution. amidst having a solid, hard resolve, perhaps soft moments and touches will surely melt the toughest heart of depths.

AALTO : "can i touch your tacet mark?" you delve straight to the point and reach out to the side of his neck even though you haven't received an answer yet. goosebumps ride on his skin as he feels the delicate contact follow along the mark's bizarre shape. he feigns composure and turns his head to the opposite side, just so you wouldn't witness him at his vulnerable state.

although the slower you traced on the tacet mark, the more impatience gnawed at his bones and his sensitivity heightens. "w-wait! why are you doing this?" he inquires and takes a step back for a moment, one eyebrow raised, obviously confused at your actions as of late. "i was just wondering if it was sensitive." you reply and step closer to him once more, driving him to a corner where he'd find no refuge from whatever you're planning to do.

suddenly, a gust of wind leaves a silhouette in front of your eyes in a wink, the pseudo figure of him doing a heart pose with both his hands feel like he's poking fun at you. "come on, aalto, just one!" you purposely exclaim. emerging victorious the moment he comes back to the spot, he heaves a dreary sigh. "i suppose it can't be helped."

he stands still and waits for the teasing episode to come to an end. you reach out your index finger and trail your fingertip on his soft skin, paying attention to his body language all at the same to see if there could be any information you could get out of the man - even if it did not appear to be beneficial at all.

the intel broker then peers at you with a bashful look cast on his flaxen irises, feigning obliviousness but the bit lip was clearly an indicator that he's not used to this. watching his poorly stifled expressions, you could not restrain yourself anymore and a chuckle slips from the margins of your lips, "that was surprisingly entertaining." you state as a matter of fact, comical tears about to well up in your eyes.

"shall i trace your tacet mark again next time?" you ask in a rhetorical manner, heart brimming with wonder. "that'd be the last." he says bluntly and takes a swift turn around, proceeding to put on his tinted glasses as a last resort to upkeep his cool guy style.

[ohsc]

Maybe something with the reader being shaken-up about a case?

hi lovely! tysm for the ask <3 | sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.2k, hurt/comfort, implied trauma, brief implied gore, brief mentions of death, brief mentions of vomit, sam being so soft and gentle, mostly comfort

She didn’t realise that she was crying until she couldn’t see.

It was like she was looking through an obscure glass window. The bunker’s kitchen blurred out of view, lost behind the film of tears that was quickly leaking.

It was almost funny. She was only eating a sandwich, nothing more. Nothing had been said, nothing had happened. She wasn’t even thinking, not really. Her thoughts had sounded fuzzy and distorted since the case they’d worked two days ago.

She blinked, the film of tears broke and dripped down her cheeks, and the bite of sandwich in her mouth suddenly felt like chewing cotton, like it wouldn’t melt down. She had to swallow it in two lumps, by which point she couldn’t see again, the tears were building too rapidly.

With her impaired vision, the only reason she was able to tell that Sam had also realised she was crying, was when she felt his warm palm against her face.

“Hey,” his voice was so soft it made her chest hurt. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She blinked rapidly to repair her vision, eyelashes tickled with the tears that dropped from them, and when she looked up at him all she could do was nod. She was scared of the sound that'd come out of her if she tried to talk. The pressure in her chest was building like a mentos and coke experiment. If she opened the lid, she’d burst.

Sam thumbed her tears away, delicate as always, and crouched in front of her. He looked so worried. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t his sadness.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he squeezed her knee, and rubbed at her thigh with his free hand. “Do you want some water?”

He didn’t wait for her nod to get up and retrieve it. The glass was cold when it was pushed into her hands, and it took four sips before it felt like the lump in her throat had dissolved only slightly. But it was helping.

Sam didn’t push her to talk. He sat beside her on the bench of the table and rubbed his palm along her spine as she sipped from the cool relief. He was so nice it made her want to cry more. How could someone be so loving? How did he fit all of the gentleness inside of him? His ribs must’ve been straining with the pressure.

“Sorry,” her voice felt too small, too weak. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Sam rubbed the heel of his palm between her shoulder blades. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmured in that gentle tone of his. “Do you think it could be… I mean, is it the case? Is that what’s bothering you?”

“I’m…” her breath wavered on her inhale. “I don’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam took one of her hands with his free one, laced their fingers until all of their knuckles were kissing. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re safe.”

The lump in her throat bobbed, and she had to sip the water again.

The case they’d worked that past Wednesday was the first case that had made her physically throw up. The grass has been damp beneath her knees, dew from the green soaked into the denim of her jeans as she hunched over and emptied her stomach, the side panel of the Impala cold beneath her palm where she steadied herself. Sam’s hand had been warm against the back of her neck. Dean’s jacket had been a little heavy over her shoulders. The scene that played in her mind of what they had seen inside that house like a broken film reel had been disgusting. It had been downright evil.

It was the first case that she’d had to step back from and let the boys do their job. The first case she’d sat in the backseat of the Impala for whilst the boys buried what was left of the body.

It was the first case that had numbed her mind a little on the drive back home.

And it was the first case she’d cried about two days after.

The obscure glass was back in the role of contact lenses. Her hand squeezed Sam’s until hers shook, but he didn’t mind. He leaned over her until she was tucked against his side completely, like he’d held her on the drive home from the case.

“I don’t like our job sometimes.” Her voice broke, muffled by his collar. She inhaled deeply, tried to ground herself with his scent.

“I know.”

“I wish we’d never gone there.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“She was already dead-” the words came out warped around a hiccup and she put her glass down to hug him instead, arms wrapped around his waist like she couldn’t bare to be any further from him.

Sam’s hand came up and stroked through her hair, something that he knew soothed her. Deft fingers pushed through the strands of her hair, nails scratched at her scalp so so lightly, until some of the tension had left her body, left her drained against him.

Her chest still ached.

“You know what I think about, after cases that we don’t win? Cases like that?” Sam’s voice was soft, she heard it through his chest, a deep rumble that had as much of an affect on her as a cat purring in her lap.

“Hm?”

“It’s cheesy, I know, but I think about all the people we’ve saved,” his fingers continued their ministrations as her tears soaked into his shirt. “And we’ve saved so many — you’ve saved so many.”

“But not her.” Her voice broke.

Sam took a breath. “No, not her,” he murmured. “Nobody said this life was easy. But if we wanted the easy life, think about how many people wouldn’t be here because we hadn’t saved them.”

It was a nice thought. That there were people around, living and loving and breathing because of them. But that girl…

“It’ll hurt for a while,” Sam murmured. “It’ll hurt for longer than a while. I can't say anything that’ll ease it. I wish I could, sweetheart,” he kissed her temple. “But… we do a lot of good, you know. You do.”

She nodded, but didn’t respond. She breathed through the rest of her tears in Sam’s arms, and only when the ache in her ribs had lessened did she lean back and looked up at him.

He smiled so softly that made her wonder how he was so perfect for her. It made her wonder how many lives they’d lived together before this one.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Sam murmured as he lifted a hand and delicately wiped at her eyes, before he just held her jaw like he was holding light. “A bath? A nap? D’you wanna go for a drive?”

Her head rested in his palm like it was crafted for that purpose alone. “A nap sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” Sam smiled a little more, and leaned in to kiss her forehead. She wanted to cry again. “Then we’ll nap.”

Her eyes watered again when she murmured, “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Hey, ‘course,” Sam wiped at her tears once more, like he was trying to brush water from the pages of a book. Delicate, not wanting to ruin what was underneath. “I love you, okay?” He kissed her forehead once more. “We’ll get through this.”

We’ll. Maybe they would, if she had him.

[twi-liight]

Sooo. You just posted Petty Jealousy 20 mins ago and I just wanted to say that I loveeee itttt. Can we please have more? Like Astarion and the other companions subtly do somethings to the person they’re jealous of to turn them away from Tav.

Tav’s companions are just sooo cutee when they’re jealous. Wyll and perhaps, Halsin being the only sensible ones.

Thank you!

Red With Envy ❣

The YA love heptagon of the century: Tavrem. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Lae'zel/Tav, Companions/Tav. It's Gale/Astarion if you squint. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you! ❥ PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Astarion would never beseech himself to touch a member of the working class, but things change. People change. And here he is draping an arm around Gale’s shoulders to boldly declare his presence upon the rickety, wooden table. 

“Oh.” Blink blink. Gale gawks with round eyes, then not-so-discreetly glances away from Astarion’s heavy gaze to the only present company at the table: salted bread with thick slices of white cheese, anchovies, and sop for the bread. This sorry excuse of a presentation must be breakfast, which begs the question- Is Gale’s blood so blue that he cannot skip a meal or is he trying to make a favorable impression? 

Astarion would much prefer the former. It means he does not need to scrub his hands raw from the filth of peasants after this interaction.

“Uh, good morning, Astarion.” 

“Mm?” He flashes his fangs to grin. “A good morning indeed, my friend. How lovely the dawn breaks over the horizon, but with no one to share the scenery with! I pitied you, and out of the kindness of my heart, opted to join you.” 

Alright, enough touching. Astarion draws his arm back to poise a curled hand beneath his chin, glancing over Gale’s face in a vain attempt to study him. “Well-combed hair. Your posture,” he raises his hand to gesture at the wizard, “is much cleaner than yesterday. You’re practically glowing with morning dew, and…”

Here, he leans forward, just enough so that his nose lingers on the curve of Gale’s neck, just so his hot breath hits his skin as he murmurs, “You smell like Tav.” 

This greedy bastard slept in their tent last night because he caught some sickness from meandering about gaseous spores, and Tav cannot ignore the needy. Would that Gale be some beggar on the road and not an accomplished wizard with a higher emotional maturity than he.  

Astarion would be more comforted if he was a one night stand, a quick romp for the leader of their party to take the edge off. But anything beyond that is sabotage for his best-laid plans. 

Astarion’s smirk curls as deep, roiling darkness tug at his mind. He leans back slowly, never breaking eye contact. “They let you sleep in their tent. What a darling.” While they slept by the fire, ash and dirt swirling in their hair, Gale was embraced in Tav’s blankets and scarves. The lingering scent of something floral sticks on his skin, and Astarion recognizes it as the oleander Shadowheart presented Tav a fortnight ago. 

Gale smells something else: rusty and metallic, like the smell of a storm brewing. Has Astarion’s eyes deepened in color, like wine? His tongue feels heavy in his mouth all of a sudden. “Yes,” he agrees, thinking of Tav for some semblance of comfort. “I was sick, and they offered their tent for the night. More blankets, they said. Easier to be warm in - look, Astarion, do you have a problem with my friendship with Tav?” 

The laugh that pushes its way forcibly out of his sneering lips is sharp and mocking. Something burns in his chest, and it feels like seething anger. “My, that’s a strong word. I would say acquaintance is more befitting of your,” Astarion gestures to Gale once more, fighting back a scowl, “station. You’ve known Tav for barely a few months - they’re not quick to brand just anyone as a friend.” 

“Is that right?” Gale’s brown eyes spark with challenge. What a doll. Finally got his spine. “I ought to wonder how you befriended them, then. Anyone with half a mind knows your shenanigans are acts of desperation; you want them to like you so you can manipulate them. I know your type, Astarion.” 

“And you… You, what, you are not? You’re using Tav just as much as I am, darling. Otherwise, what are you here for? Companionship? Ha!” Astarion does not know why, but his entire being is alight. As if the sun’s rays are scorching him. He can barely contain his temper, barking out between sharp teeth, “Get a grip.” 

Gale is hardly fazed. “You’re delusional. Whatever threat you think I present to you?” He lifts his chin, eyes alight with power and rage. “Confront it. Dig your grave. Lie in it. While you’re busy lurking in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to dance them around your little games, guess where I will be?” 

Silent, seething anger. It burns. Astarion’s eyes are blown wide with rage as he gazes into Gale’s eyes, digging his nails into his palm as his fingers wrap around the hilt of his dagger. 

“There to catch them when they realize everything you’ve done is just an act.” Gale leans forward this time, a warning blazing in his brown eyes. “Think whatever you wish of me, Astarion, but never in your life think I would never fight for those I cherish.” 

Cherish. Astarion almost sinks his teeth in his throat to shut him up. “Good,” he purrs, fighting every urge not to massacre Gale where he sits with his dingy little breakfast. “I would be sorely disappointed if you succumbed too easily to me.” 

This would be so much easier if Astarion didn’t care about losing Gale, either. If he must concede, Astarion can admit to himself and the Devil alone that Gale is beyond useful in battle. Herald of the Weave, Mystra’s little boytoy? He would be endeared to watch Gale’s story end. Whether it be in smithereens or in the bosom of his former goddess, it will be fun to watch. 

Something in the back of his mind gnaws at his anxiety that Gale will be the one to turn Tav against him. This pretty little fool never wanted him in the party, wary of him, which is the smart thing to do. Tav was not. Tav was too easy to trust him. To easy to ply around his fingers until he had them even offer up their blood. 

He resents Gale for making space in their heart. It could have been his. 

“The dawn rises as I do: strong, and watching over two bread boys exchanging heated words like knives.” Lae’zel’s voice, sleek and smooth, startles them. Gale visibly jolts away from his proximity to Astarion’s face, brown eyes widening as Lae’zel approaches the table. She takes one gander at the spread, grabs a fistful of anchovies, and shoves it down her mouth without care. 

“You,” Gale stammers. “That was for–” 

“Silence. Githyanki must feed well to prepare for the new day. I will not hear your incoherent mumbling, wizard.” Lae’zel at least has the decency to chew with her mouth closed. She gulps the food, grips her fingers around Gale’s mug of watered down wine, and downs it with a tilt of her head. 

Astarion pouts. “We were having a moment, dearest Lae’zel. Now, I love to tease Gale as much as you, but it is my turn to press on Gale’s pretty little nerves until he explodes. He does not need to be,” he flares a hand out to Lae’zel, who is still downing the disgusting concoction with impressive concentration, “hounded.”

Gale looks confused. Astarion thinks that is not a state he often experiences. “Thank you?” 

And now he’s grateful? Astarion regrets his string of words in the last five seconds. They should go back to fighting.

Lae’zel slams the mug down on the table, perishing the rest of Astarion’s train of thought. She wipes the drink from her lips with her arm, thinks for a second, then nods, resilience plain in her expression. “I must warn you: distractions outside of our goal will be our end. I will not fail to cut either of you down if you produce disappointing results. However.”

There’s a ‘however’? Gale and Astarion exchange a glance, the animosity between them gone, replaced with more confusion. “I think you may be misunderstanding,” Gale begins. “Astarion and I-” 

“You two are lovers,” Lae’zel says with the confidence of a thousand burning suns. Astarion has never wished for that to be more true. He wants to be eviscerated where he sits right now because he cannot pick up his jaw from the ground. 

Gale looks like he just swallowed a rat. Like he is seconds away from throwing up. He needs a moment, experiencing vicious whiplash from wanting to kill Astarion to now, wanting to kill Lae’zel. “You— huh.”

“I support this companionship,” nods the githyanki sagely. 

“You are a bloody fool.” 

“No. I am efficient. Two of my enemies have been wiped off the playing field, which means there is less competition.” Hands on her hips, Lae’zel looks at the campgrounds proudly. “Make love to each other loudly.” She jerks her head over her shoulder, a sneer twisting her sharp features as she looks at them. “Try to drown out my name from Tav’s lips tonight, for I will be taking their hand and heart.” 

No fucking way. An oversight on his part. How could he have been so blind? Of course Tav is desired, not just by him or Gale, but by everyone else in the damn camp! This is much more troublesome than he realized. Fine, then. He should prioritize the rational thinkers like Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart and– oh, Karlach. Not darling Karlach. She would never turn Tav against him, would he? 

Fine. Halsin and Lae’zel can go first. 

“Momentary truce?” Gale offers. 

“You read my mind, handsome. Lae’zel, darling! Come back over here - we just want to talk.” 

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

[shotmrmiller]

@magicislikelove said pathetic!simon with single mom reader.

pathetic!simon sees you the first time when you move in, dragging a heavy box through to your door, and he is enthralled.

he also doesn't move to help you because the grunts that escape your lips from the effort set his loins ablaze.

your flushed skin glistening with sweat— a rosy hue across your face, perspiration dripping from your temple down to your chin, where it collects like dew drops. (he wonders if you taste like brine, or sweet like golden wheat)

the swell of your soft hips peeking from under your damp shirt that rides up whenever you bend down to get a good grip on the edges of the cardboard box. (he wishes those dainty fingers would caress his scarred back, leaving trails of red in their wake)

every noise that spills from your bow-shaped lips the color of petals sends a lick of pleasure up his spine, white-hot and agonizing. (what he wouldn't do for you to spit into his mouth, or maybe just on him altogether and make him clean it up)

he watches you raise your arms to pull your sweaty hair away from your face with delicate hands— slender, fragile wrists twisting it into a makeshift sloppy bun. (would you tug on his hair like that? would you pull until you felt the cropped strands pop from his scalp?)

and then you look up and notice him standing in the hallway, right by his front door. your eyes lock onto his, and he feels the oxygen in his lungs being siphoned away.

"uh, hi."

his breath lodges in his throat, or maybe it's spit because he's spinning on the balls of his feet, his back to you as he barks out dry coughs until he can breathe again.

"are... are you alright?" the slight worry in your voice has his cock twitching.

he'd be better if he could use that shirt you're currently wearing as a mask— the wet spots right over his crooked nose.

"yes. sorry. i'm a little ill," he hoarsely utters before turning back around to face you. "it's just a mild cough, so i can help ya with tha', if ya like." his head tips toward the box he's been watching you fight with for the past half-hour.

"i'd, i mean, yeah...okay." he doesn't care that you sounded almost coerced, simon moves with the speed he uses in the field, and is by your side in seconds, hoisting up the box wordlessly.

he stares at you, waiting for you to turn around and invite him into your home.

"uhm, right this way," you push open the door quietly, and point at the kitchen floor. "there please."

simon does as you say, (like a good boy, he thinks, won't you let him be your good boy?) when he hears a child's cries come from behind a closed door.

"ah, duty calls. i really do appreciate you helping me," you give him a small grin. "i'll see you around, yeah?"

simon slowly nods at you before turning to leave, opening your front door when he notices that you've begun to walk toward your wailing offspring. (he didn't see a ring on your finger)

he discreetly swipes the scented plug-in (just a touch too hot in his roughened palm) by the door and heads toward his own flat.

simon doesn't even fully undress, just hastily undoes the button of his jeans and lets them drop mid-thigh before he slams his back on the living room wall and begins to unscrew the plug-in.

the slick, hot, aromatic oil pulls a sibilant hiss from his thin, chapped lips as it touches the sensitive skin of his meaty cock and lathers himself in it with a couple of experimental strokes.

he squeezes the base of it, encircling it with his large hand, so tight it hurts.

that's what you'd feel like around him.

simon grips himself and starts to fuck his fist— choppy, desperate thrusts that has his toes curling in his muddy, creased boots.

his hand is calloused, just on the edge of too rough, but it doesn't stop him from imagining it's you that's on his cock, bouncing on it with fervor.

his nostrils sting with the overwhelming smell of the oil even through the thick fabric of his mask— a heady mix of lavender and vanilla— and it makes his head spin.

the web space between his thumb and pointer drags along his frenulum, and white spots dance behind his eyelids. sweat beads his brow as he gets closer to his end, the ecstasy coursing through his veins threatening to consume him whole.

simon replays the sounds you made earlier in his head, and for once, it drowns out the usual low ringing in his ears, intensifying his arousal.

he's pumping himself roughly now, fast and jerky as he rears his peak.

would you let him come inside of you? paint your silken walls with his unworthy spend?

when he thinks of you trying to hook your ankles at the base of his spine to keep him deep inside of you as he tries to weakly pull out is what breaks him.

his cock spasms as thick spurts of warm cum dribble all over his scarred knuckles and pants.

simon's hand is slippery as he continues to pump his softening length, and squeezes right under his flared head, the remnants of his pleasure beading at the tip.

his gait is awkward, and stiff as he waddles toward the kitchen with his trousers still by his wide, hairy thighs— plugging in the wall scent on his way there.

unbeknownst to him, he was giving you that kubrick stare and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

you also thanked the stars that he wasn't a serial killer.

[atinylittlepain]

okay i was wondering if you could a joel x fem reader maybe even dbf joel where it’s loosely based on the song diet mountain dew by lana del rey? like the pining part of it and also the lyric “let’s take jesus of the dashboard” THATS SO HOT TO ME SO IDK

ive never requested anything before soo hope this is okay 🫣🫣

ahhhhhh, this one is a doozy

Ride It

pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

joel milller masterlist

She calls her dad's co-worker for a ride and gets a little more than she was expecting.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, age gap, DBF!joel, and not much else y'all

............................

“Hello?”

“Mr. Miller?” She can hear sheets rustling, his gruff sigh over the crackling receiver.

“It’s late, honey. What’s wrong?” Her heart stutters at the sweet name he calls her, the same name he’s called her since she first met him when her dad started working for Miller Construction four years ago.

“It’s my car. I think I have a flat tire and I can’t drive on it.” A long sigh filters through the phone.

“You should call your dad. He’s probably worried sick about you.”

“No! I can’t– he’s gonna be so pissed. Please, Mr. Miller. Would you– would you come get me? I know you’re good with cars and all. Please?” Another long sigh.

“Alright, honey. Will you tell me where you are?” She does, pulled over on the shoulder of the highway, a little ways out of the city but nowhere near home.

“Hang tight, I’m coming.”

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times– just Joel, honey.”

“Thank you, Joel.” 

“I’ll be there soon.” She clicks her cell phone shut with a sigh, slumping back in the driver’s seat of her car. Her stomach swirls in anticipation. Normally, she’d try to tamp down the crush she’s had on Joel for quite some time, but after a night out in the city with a few of her old high school friends, she’s just warmed up enough to let her mind race with thoughts of him. It’s silly, something that could never really happen, seeing as her dad has been best friends with Joel for years. But it wasn’t impossible, was it? After all, he’s younger than her dad, and only fifteen years older than her. Jesus christ, get a grip. She huffs, shaking her head to still her thoughts as she looks out at the pitch-black Texas night.

It isn’t long before headlights are brightening up the inside of her car and she turns in her seat to see Joel’s familiar pick up truck pulling up behind her. 

….

The rosary that hangs off her rear-view mirror is swaying harshly, the only sound beside their harsh panting and the sticky slap of skin is it clinking into the windshield over and over again. She’s not entirely sure how they got here, a mixture of late night talking and boundaries being flirted with until they both gave in to something they couldn’t have in the light of day.

“Shit, honey– fucking squeezing me– bit of a stretch for you, huh?” A high-pitched whine falls from her lips, her nails digging into the fabric of his unbuttoned flannel. Joel lets out a breathy laugh.

“That’s it, bounce on it for me, there you go– fuck– boys at school just not cutting it, are they? Need someone with a little more skill.” He punctuates his last word with a jolting thrust up that has the swollen tip of his cock grazing a spot so deep inside her it makes her crumple up against him, his rough fingers digging into her ass to support her as he starts a jagged rhythm of his own.

“C’mon, miss college. Use your words. Who’s making you feel so good?” She hadn’t been expecting it, a surprised yelp leaving her lips when he smacks the curve of her ass, hard, broad palm sure to leave a mark. There is nothing comfortable about the position they’re in, her straddling his lap, scrunched over him in the driver seat, one hand pressed up against the car door window while the other digs into his shoulders for stability. But all she can focus on is the sweet snap of pain and pleasure licking up her spine with each of his thrusts. 

“You, Joel– you feel so good– want more– please, please–” Her words die in her throat when he thrusts up particularly hard, pressing her hips down to meet him and holding her there in a deep grind. She lets out a choked sob of his name, cunt clenching hard around him and coaxing a low moan from the back of his throat. 

“Been wanting this for a while, haven’t you, honey?” His words are a smear against her bare chest where he had tugged down the front of her dress and bra, leaving harsh grazes of his teeth to the swell of her tits. He chuckles when the only response she gives him is a preening whine.

“Fucking knew it. You think I didn’t see how you were looking at me? Practically begging for it– shit– dirty little thing, aren’t you? What would your old man say, huh? Does he know his daughter’s just a little slut?” His voice is a southern slur stamped hotly into her skin, low and drawling and all melted together, pushing her even closer to the brink as her wetness starts to smear down hers and Joel’s thighs, the sound of skin slicking and sticking with each thrust becoming impossibly lewd. It’s almost too much when his one hand dips under her rucked up skirt, fingers harshly toying with her clit.

“Give it to me, honey. Make a fucking mess, c’mon.” The pleasure floods over in an instant, the only sound she can make is a breathy chant of his name as her hips seize up and she spasms around him. He’s not far behind as he thrusts into her a few more times before his hips stutter to a stop and she feels his warmth spreading inside her. She clings to him, both of them breathing hard and flushed with pleasure. 

“Jesus christ, I’m sorry– I should’ve–” “S’fine, I’m on the pill.” He throws his head back into the headrest at that, chest still heaving. But he doesn't stay still for long, jostling her in his hold as he suddenly leans forward and yanks the rosary still clinking into the windshield clean off the rearview mirror, tossing it haphazardly onto the passenger seat. She quirks an eyebrow at him as he settles back into the seat.

“Damn noise was driving me insane.”

[maopll]

Could I request Kaeya, Diluc, Childe and Zhongli's (separate) s/o laying them down on her lap and playing with the boys' hair when their exhausted?

Put your head on my heart

#genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: its boutta feel like heaven once I scratch their heads I'm being dead serious...hopefully there's no dandruff...

⌗:, pairings: khaenri'ahn, weird grown up, snezhnaya's greatest toymaker, fossil w/ gn!reader (separately)

⌗:, note: I wanted to post smth before I went to school so pls take it with a grain of salt (low effort work)

— ୨୧ KAEYA

"Ahh...that's feels great" Kaeya mumbled drowsily against your lap.

"You're having real fun by having me at your beck and call huh?" You playfully said as you pressed one spot on his forehead a little harder.

"Ow ow ow gently I'm very feeble" He smirked while looking you with half his eyes closed. It looks like the exhaustion really creeped up to him. He's not one who easily shows through his demeanor how much overworked or even exhausted he is.

To others he may seem like how he usually does but the slight change in his personality spoke words to you. The past week he became sluggish and even fell asleep at the most odd places.

Thus you took it upon your hands to lay him down on your lap and forcibly make him achieve that deserved slumber that he really needed.

"It's not right to overwork yourself so much Kaeya..." your voice sounded like one of worry. Kaeya knew how you felt and...he can't really disagree with you. "I'll be careful next time lovely"

"Oh, you better! you're trying to shave years of my life here with how much you're overworking yourself!" You smack his head. He laughed, seeing you worry so much, and said "aww I'm sorry," all while having a shit eating grin on his face as he smothered your face with his kisses to make you stop worrying. "You have my oath as a knight, my dove" he says so while sealing the words with a kiss on the back of your hand in quite the knightly fashion.

— ୨୧ DILUC

It's way past midnight. The workers and the Maids of the Manor are enjoying the honey heavy dew of slumber while you paced back and forth in your own room's veranda as you stared far into the vineyards to even catch a glimpse of your lover. It's not unusual for Diluc to return late, but it's even more unusual when he hasn't come back after the clock struck 2 a.m.

"Where is he?" Your worries grew like a rapid fire. You tried to calm your nerves by telling yourself "it's alright..." when your ears perked up with the creak of the front door. After some time, you saw Diluc emerge from the shadows with his red hair looking particularly vibrant under the moonlight.

"Gosh, you had me worried there dear..." you strode towards him. "Yes...it looks like I kept you awake and worried for a long time? apologies..." as he sounded those words, his voice grew tired and low as his eyes nearly closed from how drowsy he was. You frowned at this sight of him. So you held his hand gently and guided him towards your bed to let him get that well deserved rest since he looked as if he would flop flat on the ground if you did not let him fall on the bed sooner.

You guided his head towards your lap and ruffled his red locks gently. "I'll help you sleep quicker, Diluc. So just close your eyes now" with a peck to his forehead, you put your hands softly over his eyes. "Thank you...love"

— ୨୧ CHILDE

"Childe...I don't think this is that right place to do this..."

And yes it wasn't. He decided to go out fishing in Dragonspine with you because he said, "I miss the way me and my family used to fish in Snezhnaya" all puppy eyed and stuff. You're always the one who says yes to anything he says but maybe...maybe this time you should've said no...

"But babe I'm tired! won't you let me rest my head on your lap?" so he said when he is literally a harbinger. Him running out of stamina and being exhausted? impossible that's something that will happen in an alternate universe. He just needed a sorry excuse to feel the warmth your thigh emitted because he just couldn't get enough of those.

"Childe I'm not saying that you can't lay on my lap but we are out in the middle of nowhere in adeserted frosty mountain!" You screamed to him while he just jumped up with excitement, "Oh look! I caught a Snowstrider! Great catch!"

"Oh my archons...are we done yet?" you said impatiently because the cold was getting to you. "Aww but I was thinking about catching a few more...alright let's go home now"

You noticed the tone drop in his voice. Looks like he really missed those eventful days of his. So with a sigh and a forgiving smile on your face you agreed to his whims, "Nevermind it's alright, you can fish as much as you want we can go after some time"

Oh what a sight it was when his eyes literally sparkled with joy and the way his ears perked up hearing your words of affirmation. "Thanks babe! Watch me catch the biggest one for you!"

Oh it's going to be a long day...

— ୨୧ ZHONGLI

The vibrant kites were visible from the small window of your house. Lantern Rite comes every year with a new surprise yet even before the preparations are completed before the event, the hustle and bustle of the people as they scurried to prepare meticulously for the biggest event was a joy that could never eb expressed in words.

So here you were. Atop a hill overseeing the entirety of Liyue Harbour with your lover resting on you lap as you played with his hair as soft as the silk flowers and as fragrant as qingxins.

"Do you like the view Zhongli?" you quietly asked, keeping the comforting silence that prevailed amidst the two of you. "As always. Mortals and their customs have never ceased to amaze me." He hummed lowly as you scratched that one spot of his head. He had those areas on his head which felt better than the other places because...he's a dragon after all.

He looked up at you through his lashes and spoke, "Once the Liyue Harbour is decorated, let us visit Mount Aocang to give those old friends a little greeting." You smiled at how much he cared for those who lived along with him. "Sure let's do that"

[dear-tortured-adam]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 (𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮)

eden here had some major solomon brainrot out of nowhere. title credits to my homie @/ilsefieldtrip

You wished you could've predicted everything.

The little splatter of droplets against the cement synced perfectly with the sound of your shoes splashing across tiny puddles. Your grip on Solomon's turtleneck tightened, ducking your head beneath his cape.

The sorcerer must've felt your nails digging into the black fabric, as his eyes looked down towards you. "Shhh, we'll be fine," he whispered, pulling you closer towards his chest. "Almost there."

The rain continued on, each drop stinging like tiny needles against your skin. Breath hitching; the cold biting wind whipped around as you both ran. The world blurred into a smear of gray and shadow, only there were sounds the pounding of your hearts against the deafening 'splash' of downpour.

He kept a firm grip on your hand, searching for any sign of shade. Cover. Shelter. Anything to secure the both of you. The road beneath you was slick with mud and water, threatening to betray your footing with every step. Solomon wouldn’t let that happen — not now.

How long had it been? It felt like forever. Finding a place for refuge was difficult enough, yet to do it under the harsh Devildom conditions? Only a miracle would grant you leverage to not get sick.

But moments are unpredictable, much like the weather.

Just minutes ago you both were taking a leisurely stroll out in the city square. Then, you were looking through windows as one or the other shared their latest rants or what-ifs. Even the weather wanted to gossip, yet the couldn't hold their excitement any longer.

You felt his breath hitch. Only ever getting a glimpse of the cherry red aluminum roof, but in fleeting seconds you were both in safety. While a waiting shed is not the most optimal place, it was better than nothing. You carefully peeked out of his cloak, feeling his hands wrap the fabric around your body.

Solomon was shivering. The only reassurance was a small, weak smile. "I told you," he said with a tiny smirk.

Yet that didn't attempt to hide how breathless he felt. The white-haired man pants, hands on his knees, before collapsing down on one of the red chairs. Utterly Drenched.

You felt bad, but you also couldn't ignore the gush of wind pressing against your skin. Although, it doesn't take a genius to look at yourself. Your clothes, while crinkled and shriveled up from the constant running, were still dry. In fact, you never felt more than an ounce of water touch anywhere near you: skin, fabric, hair, accessories. . .

Until then. His clothes clung to his body, his hair and skin dripping wet as droplets sink towards the white tiles. Small shaky breathes escape his lips; a moment to pause. His shoes were stained by the mud, and you could see the drops form small puddles beneath his chair.

He did, didn't he?

You frowned, sitting beside him as you drape his cloak over his shoulders. He was baffled, grey eyes widened at your action. "What are you doing? Hey, you should put it back," he said.

But as soon as Solomon tried to wrap the cloth around you, you gripped his wrist. "You need it more."

He wanted to protest, but he knew how stubborn you got. That pout on your face signifies that you aren't backing down. Solomon sighs, before giving a small chuckle. "Alright, if that's what you want."

You smiled in victory as you sat together. Beneath a shared roof, gazing back at the rain. The subtle smell of dew filled the air, as the clattering down of water against metal filled the otherwise silence. Once was a foe to your walking journey had turned into an almost endearing sight. While annoying in the past, you felt calmer.

With a deep breath, you rest you head against Solomon's shoulder. The wizard shifts his position, humming along with a hand on your arm.

"When will this end?" you asked, looking up at him with those eyes he'll forever get lost in.

He shook his head, looking back at the rain. "I don't know."

You only huffed in response. Rain never went away, a melodrama of emotions. The intensity, direction, sounds: all would think that rain was a frightening sight. But at the end of it all, even if it coated the both of you a near trip to illness — you couldn't deny how. . .

You asked again, your fingers intertwining with his. "Can we stay like this?" you said, eyes still on the rain.

You may not know what Solomon was doing, yet the faint kiss he gave your knuckles sent a serene wave of comfort throughout your system. He cooed, his free hand gently caressing your cheek.

"Of course."

Perhaps there was something beautiful with the unknown.

written by dear-tortured-adam | dividers by cafekitsune

[ratsummer]

Shhhhh shhhhhh I'm getting carried away here, but...

Y'all ever think about Phantom being unphased by griminess when he's first summoned?

Or maybe not unphased, but he just doesn't make cleanliness a priority. Like this guy has been roaming the circles as best he can on his own, more concerned with finding food and shelter and the reluctant ally here and there than with personal hygiene.

Summoning as a general rule isn't a very tidy affair, so no one really notices that first day. Omega and Aether give him the typical, cursory wipedown to remove the worst of the summoning... goo... before bundling him up in soft, loose, flowy robes while his skin is still sensitive. And of course, when they show him where his room his, they introduce him to the baths and let him know he has the rest of the day to clean up and settle in.

Well, morning rolls around and Dew arrives to the breakfast table, ushering a very sleepy little quint along in front of him. Cirrus scolds him for so obviously waking him up before he was ready, but Phantom insists it's okay, please, I asked him to make sure I was awake for breakfast! Don't get angry at him!

And while Phantom explains that Dew stayed up late with him to help him find and organize snacks in his room, Cumulus comes to the table, yawning wide and clutching Aether's arm. She was so excited to greet Phantom and Aurora at their summonings, hugging them tight (despite the goo) and welcoming them into the fold. She's just as excited to see them at breakfast, purring and pressing a kiss into Aurora's hair first before shuffling over to do the same for Phantom.

He can't help but flinch a little as she approaches. Old habits die hard, and he immediately rushes to apologize when she stops in her tracks and frowns. But Cumulus is used to skittish ghouls - she typically accepts boundaries gracefully. No, what's caught her off guard is-

"Phantom, sweetheart, didn't Aether show you how the bath works?" Cumulus' voice is soft and warm, but she's got Aether pinned with a disappointed glare.

Phantom curls in on himself a little, squirming and wrapping his tail around his fingers. "He did... why?"

"Little bat, you've still got... goo... clumped in your hair. That can't feel very good."

And while Phantom is squirming and explaining himself, that he was focusing on getting used to his room, Cumulus starts looking him over more carefully.

She notices his claws, broken and jagged in some spots, dirt and goo clumped around them. Little scrapes, scratches, and bruises littering what little bit of his bare skin is exposed. Hair dry and frizzed up, with tangles and knots all around the base of his horns. And his horns... dried out, brittle, chunks missing near the ends.

Well, Cirrus doesn't call her Fussy Lussy for nothing.

"Oh darling, it's okay you didn't have time last night. I'll tell you what, I was going to have a little spa day today, I've got so many new things I want to try out. How about you come along with me and I'll help you figure out all the knobs in the tub and you can try out some of my soaps!"

Phantom looks a little wary and unsure as Cumulus extends her offer, maybe trying to figure out how to say no, until Aurora gasps and starts kicking her feet excitedly.

"Oh! Phantom! Cumulus helped me wash my hair last night and her soaps smell soooooo good! You're gonna love it!"

So, that's how Phantom ends up reclined neck-deep in deliciously warm bathwater not an hour later.

Cumulus is humming quietly, sitting next to him and lighting all the candles she lined up along the edge of the tub. "These candles are always here," she explains, "And the matches live in that jar tucked over there, so you can use these anytime you want if you like them, alright?"

Phantom just hums a little to let her know he's at least kind of listening. He rubs his toes through a little pile of what Cumulus called epsom salts, enjoying the way the grains crunch and swirl around his feet as they slowly dissolve. He can't remember being so comfortably warm and relaxed, maybe ever.

"Alright, sugar, I've got so many good things to try out. Are you ready?"

Phantom loses track of time quickly, but it must be hours that they soak together. Cumulus grooms him meticulously, and it stirs up achingly precious, half-lit memories from his kit days, when he still had his parents to look after him.

She scrubs his hair thoroughly with a sweet, sudsy shampoo. Her claws scratch deliciously over his scalp, sending goosebumps down his back. She works something called conditioner in next, using her fingers and a comb to tug and tease all the knots out of his hair. Not once does she pull hard enough to hurt.

She rubs a creamy, buttery substance between her palms until it melts into a sweet-scented oil. She massages it over his horns, cooing about how it's adding so much depth to their night-blue color. His claws are next, and Cumulus patiently explains what each of her little tools is for as she goes about trimming, filing, and oiling each one. She even rubs a cream into what she tells him are his cuticles, apparently to soften them or something.

She uses the softest cloth he's ever felt in his whole life ever to wash him thoroughly with a mouth-wateringly scented soap. She's thorough, getting behind his ears and between his toes. While she washes him, she tells him they should talk to Rain later about trimming up his hair so it doesn't fall in his eyes so much. She checks in with him constantly, asking if he's still okay with her washing him or if he'd like to take over.

Once they're out and dry, she helps him put on a creamy lotion before handing him big, soft clothes to pull on. She helps him roll the sleeves and cuff the pants, having stolen them from Swiss.

"He won't miss them, sweetie. That ghoul has the comfiest loungewear and he's always happy to share."

Cumulus insists that the most important part of their spa day is to immediately crawl into her nest to snack, snooze, and watch movies. It's called beauty rest for a reason, Phantom!

It's with a full belly and a clean, relaxed body that Phantom snuggles down under Cumulus' fresh, soft blankets and promptly passes out. It's the deepest, most restorative sleep he's had in ages.

And while he sleeps, Cumulus pets his hair, rubs his back, and generally fusses over whether the blankets are covering him properly. Her entire heart has totally melted for this sweet ghoul who's seen too much hardship, and she vows to make him the most rotten, spoiled little brat the ministry has ever seen.

[bi-bard]

On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’ - Scott Imagine [Twisters]

Title: On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’

Pairing: Scott [Twisters] X Reader

Word Count: 3,126 words

Warning(s): argument, grabbing someone's wrist

Summary: [Somewhat inspired by "Too Easy" by Tanner Adell] When a new company rolls into town during tornado season, Tyler's team is curious. Perfect uniforms, all looking ready for picture wasn't exactly the normal look for tornado chasing. (Y/n) volunteers to be the one to gather some much-needed intel, doing whatever they need to in order to get it.

Author's Note: I have about five Twisters imagines in my drafts right now.

Listen. I'm have something cute about this guy in my drafts, but he pissed me off in this movie, so I have to get that shit out first. It's part of my process.

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There was always a lot of energy during tornado season, but nothing beat the feelings on those first few days.

There was all this hope. This adrenaline going for something that hadn't even happened yet. A little while in, you would get an idea about how the season was going to go. The not-knowing before that was the best part. Endless possibilities and all that.

All that to explain that it felt normal for our team to be jumping off the walls like kids in a candy shop when we first all made it to Oklahoma.

Boone and Tyler were sorting out the truck. Dexter and Dani were making sure the trailer was stocked with merch and food for those who needed it. I hadn't been given a task, so I was left to pretty much my own devices. As a result, Lily was left working on her drone while I talked her ear off. She didn't seem to mind it.

I looked up over her head to see a group of white trucks and vans pulling up. Nice ones. Clean, new. I saw the logo slapped on the side.

"What in the hell is Storm Par," I asked.

"What?" Lily looked at me before immediately turning to the other vehicles. "No idea."

"Hey, Tyler!" I walked over to the truck.

"What's going on? Sugar high crashing?"

"Very funny," I replied before pointing to the white vehicles. "Who's Storm Par?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "No idea. Look like a big corporation."

A group of men started climbing out of the vehicles.

"Woah," he muttered.

"Proper science fair dudes," I commented. "Bet you twenty bucks that they have pocket protectors."

Tyler reached out and whacked my shoulder. "Be nice."

"Fine," I grumbled as he turned back to the truck.

I caught one of the men staring at me. He was tall and seemed to have a completely emotionless face. His clothes were neat, perfectly pressed. When he saw that I had noticed him, he had turned away from me, going to follow his team into the gas station.

"Want me to get intel?"

Tyler chuckled. "Intel? What year do you think it is? We can look them up tonight."

"Yeah, but I just caught one of their boys staring at me," I explained. "Let me do it; it'll kill two birds with one stone."

I heard Boone laugh from the other side of the truck. "I love the way you think!"

"Thanks, Boone."

"Alright, fine," Tyler relented. "But hurry up, we gotta get going."

"Thank you," I said. "Anyone want a drink?"

"Get me a Mountain Dew!" Boone called. I pointed at him and nodded.

"Be back in a minute!"

I walked back to the fridges along the back wall. I saw the man who had stared at me was now standing by the fridges.

I stood next to him. "Hey there."

He didn't respond, just staring straight ahead at the fridge. I had to hold in my laugh as I stepped forward to grab two Mountain Dews.

"Did Storm Par put a ban on talking to other tornado chasers," I asked. He didn't reply again. "Or are you just scared? Promise I don't bite."

"I'm not scared," he replied.

"Oh my goodness, he speaks." I placed a hand over my chest to pretend to be shocked. I chuckled at his clearly unimpressed expression before holding my hand out. "(Y/n)."

"Scott." he shook my hand before very quickly pulling it back.

"Nice to meet you, Scott," I said. "So, what exactly is Storm Par?"

"We track tornados so the data can be used for research."

"Real specific there," I chuckled at him. "What kind of research?"

He didn't respond.

"Oh, come on, I'm not gonna steal your ideas."

"I'm not worried about it."

"Are you worried that I won't understand it? I'm smarter than I look."

He let out an amused huff before grabbing a water and starting to walk to the checkout. I followed him.

"Maybe you could explain it to me later then," I suggested, hopping in front of him just before he got in line. I smiled at his blank look. "Tonight. There's a bar not too far from here, right next to a hotel that our crew's staying at; I'll buy you a drink."

I watched as his eyes scanned me for a moment. It looked like he was trying to figure out whether or not I was tricking him. I was almost hurt. I mean, I was tricking him, but not in the way that he was assuming.

I turned around to pay for my drinks, so I could step out of the way.

"Come on," I pushed before rattling off the name of the bar. "Meet me there tonight. One drink. If I'm that bad of company, then you can leave and I won't complain once. I'll even try to stay out of your hair during the chases."

Scott took a deep breath. "Fine."

"Yes," I cheered out of mostly fake excitement. "You won't regret this."

"I hope not."

I reached out and fiddled with a button on his white shirt. Far too perfect to be out there chasing storms. "Can't wait to see how well your perfect uniforms last out there."

I stepped back, not missing how his eyes followed my hand.

"See you later, Fancy Pants!" I waved as I started running back out to Tyler's truck.

"How'd it go," Tyler asked as I hopped into the passenger seat.

"Didn't get much," I admitted, handing Boone his drink before buckling up. "But I did get him to say yes to meeting me for a drink later."

"Atta kid!" Boone clapped his hand over my shoulder.

"I know, I know, a miracle worker," I replied. "Ready to get out there?"

"Absolutely," Tyler said.

The rest of the day went so much faster than it had any right to.

We saw Storm Par a lot. It took everything in me to not be a bit of a dick when we passed them. I did wave once when I spotted Scott in the passenger seat of one of the trucks. He nodded at me in an awkward greeting, which led to him getting a bit of a weird look from the man who was driving.

"What are you doing?" Tyler laughed as I relaxed back into my seat.

"Playing with the food," Boone answered before I could, causing me to laugh loudly.

"I was gonna say 'being friendly', but that's better," I said.

Maybe that was the excitement of it all messing with my head, but it felt like it took a matter of minutes before we found ourselves driving to the bar that I had told Scott to meet me at.

I walked in ahead of the group, trying to keep from laughing at the comments that Boone was shouting over my shoulder.

I saw some of the other guys from Storm Par at a table together. At the actual bar was Scott. He looked a bit tense, almost disheartened. I started to wonder just how long he had been there. Had I kept him waiting? Did he think that I stood him up? Was that the face of stubbornness just before calling the night a bust and going back to wherever he was staying?

I guess it didn't matter now. I couldn't back out.

"Fancy pants!" I called before walking over quickly. He seemed startled as I plopped onto the barstool next to him. "How was your day?"

"You should know, you were there for most of it," he replied.

"Was that a joke or are you just annoyed with me," I asked.

"Guess you'll have to figure it out." he shrugged. I saw a small grin form as he took a sip of his drink.

I let out a scoff. "Wow, Fancy Pants is bold now. A couple of sips is all it took?"

Scott rolled his eyes. The bartender walked over to us. I just asked for the same of whatever Scott had been drinking before focusing back on the conversation.

"The uniform held up well, I see." I pulled lightly at one of the white sleeves of his shirt. "Research must not be as hands-on as I thought it was."

"We do the same thing your crew does," he argued.

"With a bigger paycheck, I'm sure," I replied.

"Our work is a bit more important."

"And what work is that?"

"Why don't you tell me about yours first?" he smirked at me before taking another sip of his drink.

He thought it was clever. I could tell. Avoid my question by focusing the attention back on me. In any other situation, it would have screwed me out of the information that I needed.

But in this one... it was a mistake.

Here's the thing: I could talk. I could go on and on for hours about absolute nonsense. I could go from story to story without taking a breath.

And I did.

I told him about all the work that we had done to help people. About digging through the destroyed debris to try and find some pieces of people's lives. About making bundles of food. Then, I just started telling stories about every funny or weird moment that had happened since I had joined Tyler's crew.

The time that I burned served me well. Scott relaxed. Whether that was a result of his drink or simply because I was earning his trust was a mystery to me. I didn't bother focusing on which it was.

"Alright, alright," I said. "That's enough about what I do. Tell me about Storm Par."

"I told you; we collect data for future tornado research," Scott replied.

"Oh, come on." I rolled my eyes. "I mean, not to be rude, but I've seen your team. You're all a bit young to be jumping into research all on your own. And Storm Par doesn't sound like a company attached to a college."

"No, no, we're a private company," he explained. "We've had some luck finding a few really interested investors."

"Like...?"

"The biggest one is Marshall Riggs. He's a big-name real estate guy."

I couldn't quite put the pieces together at the time, but I felt a pit in my stomach. Unease that formed all too fast. "What would a real estate guy want with tornado research?"

"He's helping people," Scott's response felt like an attempt to twist an image that hadn't even been made yet. "He uses it to find people that have lost their homes and businesses and such and he buys them. It allows those people to move forward with their lives without having to wait for insurance to make a call on it."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Doesn't a disaster usually force the prices down for land?"

"I mean, it's lower than the normal price. It's not like he's buying this land up for five dollars and a pack of gum."

"What other aid does Storm Par offer them then, if they're getting rid of their homes and land?"

"Our investors focus funds on the research."

"So no?"

"So we're focused on the bigger picture. More long-term consequences."

I took the subtlest deep breath that I could. "I see."

I looked down at my watch.

"Oh, look at that, it's a lot later than I thought," I said, completely lying through my teeth. "We have to head out early in the morning."

I handed my card to the bartender, muttering for him to just cover both of our drinks.

"I can walk you out," Scott replied.

"Yeah, sure, okay," I mumbled, scribbling down a tip and putting my card away.

I followed Scott outside, letting him hold the door open. I wanted to seem less tense than I was. I was doubting how well it was working, but all I needed was for it to be good enough to get out of there without being questioned, so who really cares?

We made it outside. I was about to insist that we go our separate ways for the night, but he cut me off.

"You were right," Scott said. "Didn't regret that."

"Oh, good," I replied. I may have regretted it.

There was a long pause. Scott went to step closer to me. I almost scrambled back before he could, forcing out a chuckle.

"Well, I should go." I shrugged, continuing to walk backward before eventually turning around and just calling to him over my shoulder. "Have a good night. Stay safe. See you around, fancy pants!"

A few minutes later, I was knocking on Tyler's door like I was a landlord looking for late rent.

"(Y/n), what the hell are you doing," he asked as he yanked the door open. "You're gonna piss off somebody."

"I'm already a bit pissed, so maybe it'll do some good to share the suffering," I replied before shoving my way past him. "I have answers."

"About Storm Par?"

"No about what Scott likes to do on a nice summer day- Yes about Storm Par!"

"You are grumpy when it's late." he sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Shut up," I slapped his shoulder. "I found out about Storm Par's funding."

"Okay..."

"So, yes, they do research and track the storms and report that data back to their investors," I explained. "The problem is that their major investor is named Marshall Riggs, who has apparently made quite a name for himself in real estate."

"What would he want with it?"

"Well, he's going to the places impacted by the storms and buying up land from people who lose their homes and businesses and stuff. He's apparently spinning some story that he's allowing people to move forward with their lives, but come on, he's just using this information to get his hands on cheap land."

"Do you know what he's doing with the land?"

"I didn't ask."

"Okay..."

"Storm Par is giving this man power to do some real harm here."

"I know, I know."

"So, what are we gonna do," I asked, looking at Tyler again.

"I... I don't know," he replied, running his hand over his face.

"We can't just let him keep doing this!"

"(Y/n)," he sighed. "I don't even know if this guy is doing something that's technically illegal-"

"It's still wrong!" I snapped at him.

"I know!"

I froze.

"But whatever we do won't stop him. He'll keep preying on desperate people and whatever we say won't change what impact he might have on them. They're desperate, they think they're alone."

"So we just do nothing?"

"No." Tyler shook his head. "What we can do is continue helping people."

I nodded. "I just... I feel like there's just so much more that we could do."

"In a perfect world, we would be able to speak out and it would stop him." he shrugged. "It would make him give up and walk off with his tail between his legs. But we can't. We just have to do what we can."

I took a deep breath. Tyler pulled me into a hug.

"We're doing good work. And we'll only earn more outreach. We'll continue to do better."

I stepped back. "I'm still going to be an asshole tomorrow."

"Just don't end up dead or in jail."

"I'll do my best," I shrugged before going to walk out. "Good night!"

"Night!" he called out after me.

I was hoping that the next morning would have been mostly calm. That we would get out into the field before Storm Par or vice versa. Something to keep me from having to face Scott for just a few more hours.

I was walking back to the truck after picking up some breakfast. I was occupied with my own thoughts. I was still upset. I was still fighting the urge to go scream from the rooftops about Marshall Riggs and the bullshit he was doing.

"(Y/n)!"

I considered sprinting to the truck when I heard Scott say my name. I just wasn't feeling mean enough to do that... yet.

"Scott," I said as I turned around. "How are ya?"

"Good, good, what about you?"

"I'm fine, just busy," I replied, going to step away. "Heading out early and all."

Scott stepped forward. "I was hoping to ask if you wanted to meet again tonight. Maybe dinner instead of a drink."

"I... I don't think that'd be a good idea."

His face fell. "Oh... why?"

"I just don't think we clicked like I thought we would." the goal was to maintain the peace until the end of the season. "But hey, we tried it, that's what matters. I'll... I'll see you out there."

"Did I... Did I do something wrong?"

"Nope, you were just fine. Just didn't work."

I turned to walk away but was stopped when Scott grabbed my wrist. "I don't believe that."

I yanked my arm from him. "Don't ever fucking grab me again."

"I just want the truth."

"I told you the truth." I turned away again.

I was grabbed again. "Just wait-"

I pulled my arm away and shoved him backward. "I fucking warned you to not grab me like that again."

He seemed to still be reeling from the fact that I shoved him.

"You want the truth? Fine," I shrugged. "I find your company and what it stands for to be completely despicable. I think it's disgusting that y'all would accept money to help a man take advantage of innocent people. I think it's disgusting that you don't seem to give a damn about it. If I could tear your company down, I would, but in reality, my words would never stop you or your damn investors. And I hope that one day you wake up, look in the mirror, and feel the crushing pain of all those that you helped that man manipulate."

Scott stepped forward, a response clearly ready, but he looked over my shoulder and froze.

"(Y/n), you good?" I heard Tyler's voice call over to me.

"Yeah," I yelled over my shoulder. "Just having a quick chat!"

I stepped away again, walking as quickly as I could to make it over to him and the rest of the crew.

"Didn't end up in jail," I offered, trying to look at the bright side.

"I almost did," he muttered. "Get in the truck."

I did a little salute to him before going around to the passenger seat. I saw Tyler stare down Scott for a few more seconds before hopping in the driver's seat.

Maybe there was some argument to be made about the benefits of killing someone with kindness. But that just wasn't how I operated. And I think I'm better off that way.

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[flightlessangelwings]

A Perfect Day

Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word count-1.5k

Warnings- none really just a little fluff piece, some pining, feelings, found family, Gorgu being the cutest, reader is from a desert planet, no pronouns or physical description of reader, no use of y/n

Notes- Written for @pedgito Summer Lovin challenge! Thanks so much for adding the extra slots the one I got is so adorable!! Moodboard is the prompt and I love it so much! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~

Dew from the air clung to your skin in a way you weren’t used to. Leaves crunched under every step you took as the rainforest engulfed all your senses on the hot mid summer day. It was strange for you- an environment you had never seen before. But a presence to your side helped keep you calm even as every muscle in your body tensed.

Din noticed the way you held yourself stiffly from the moment you all stepped off the ship onto this new planet. You were a recent addition to his little group of two, but he quickly learned your mannerisms.

“You alright?” Din asked in a hushed tone as Grogu cooed happily in his arms. At least one of you were comfortable on this planet. 

“Fine,” your reply was short as you kept your guard up. Drops of water all around you were strange and every sound from the distance made your skin tingle. Feeling Din’s gaze fixed on you, you turned to meet his vizor, “Fine,” you repeated in a softer tone this time, “It’s just…” you sighed, “This is all new to me. It’s… odd,” you settled on that word after struggling to come up with a way to voice how you felt.

Grugu let out a questioning sound as he tilted his head to the side a bit. 

“You’re ok,” Din said as he looked down at the little green child in his arms, “The kid’s happy so that should ease you,” he tried to comfort you with his words as he fought the urge to reach out to you.

At that, you smiled, “You’re right.”

The way the drop of lingering rain clung to your skin made Din’s heart pound in his chest. You looked so beautiful like that, and once you visibly relaxed, you looked even more so. Much like when he found the child, Din felt an instant connection to you from the moment you met. And there was something about you that made him want to protect you and keep you safe, just like with Grogu. Though he knew you were capable of handling yourself, and had proven so by helping him keep Grogu safe when you met on the desert planet you called home. 

You and Din continued to walk through the forest in a now comfortable silence as Grogu babbled in Din’s arms. The three of you were led here on a bounty chase, but as you made your way through the forest, it seemed like it was all going to be for nothing.

Until the ruins of an old building came into view.

Gorgu cooed with excitement and leapt out of Din’s arms to run right for the building.

“Hey!” you both exclaimed at the same time as you and Din ran after him.

“Come back here,” Din shouted. 

“We don’t know if it’s safe, kid,” you added.

The child made it to the abandoned building before you and Din did. But, once you both caught up, you relaxed again as you noticed it was empty. And it had been for some time.

“What is this place?” you asked, breathless. 

Din scanned around, noting the open ceiling and the marble that lined the walls, “I’m not sure,” he replied as he looked around.

Inspecting his surroundings further, Din noticed that pedestals lined the walls. Some had statues that were overgrown with moss while others were bare. Obviously, no one had been here in some time, but this was important at one point.

“This looks like it was a museum,” Din commented.

“A museum?”

He nodded, “To the history of this planet, and the people in it,” he inspected one of the statues. 

You hummed as you looked around and allowed the awe to fill you. Suddenly, the lingering drops of rain were a comfort as you inhaled deeply. You saw statues of little creatures that once had lived on this planet, and you smiled brightly when you saw one that you found particularly cute. Pushing a button to activate an old holo, you squinted to piece together the scattered bits of information that tried to display in front of you. But, it was all too old to get a full picture, so you had to make do with the small parts that did come through.

“This place is incredible,” you breathed as your shoulders dropped and you finally let yourself completely be at ease.

“It is,” Din murmured as his eyes never left your figure.

Feeling his gaze on you once more, you turned and met his vizor. Even as the warmth of the environment surrounded you, a chill ran up your spine as your heart fluttered in your chest. You knew what it meant when he looked at you like that, with his head tilted slightly and his body relaxed. Just as Din quickly learned how to read you, you learned what his body language meant, and it made your hands tremble slightly.

But, before either of you could say anything, a happy coo broke the tension between the two of you.

“Grogu,” you snickered as you and Din moved down the corridor to find the child with a little frog statue.

Din let out a single amused laugh as he shifted his weight to one leg, “He really likes frogs, doesn’t he?”

“He does,” you agreed in amusement. 

A newfound warmth enveloped you; it wasn’t a warmth from the outside, but from within you. Being here with Din and Grogu felt comforting to you, like you were a little family together out for a trip to the museum to learn about times past. Taking a deep breath, you imagined what this building would have been like in its prime. Pristine stone walls surrounded you in your mind, and the displays were proudly on their pedestals. The sun shone in from the glass ceiling to illuminate the space.

And you were here. With Din and Grogu. And everything just felt right.

Your name in Din’s hushed tone broke you out of your imagination and you turned to face him with a short gasp. “Everything alright?” he asked, noticing you seemed to drift away for several moments.

A bright smile lit up your face as you closed the space between your bodies, “Just perfect,” you whispered. Tentatively, you reached out for him, your hand hovering over his helmet.

You waited for Din to push you away, or to ask what you were doing. When he did neither, you slowly lowered your hand to cup the side of his helmet where his cheek would be. Both you and Din let out a sharp breath, as if you both could feel the contact directly instead of on beskar. Your eyes scanned the darkness of his vizor, and you swore you could feel his own gaze back on you, studying you just as hard as you studied him.

“Thanks for bringing us here,” you broke the silence with a soft and sincere voice.

Din let out a breath as he mirrored your action. He didn’t say anything as he cupped the side of your face, cradling your head tenderly. Through the gloves, he felt the warmth of your skin, and he couldn’t help but stroke your skin with his thumb in the tiniest gesture of affection. Gently, Din guided your head forward so that it was closer to his as he leaned in towards you. Touching your forehead to his helmeted one, he loosened his grip on you while keeping his hand on your face. You rested your free hand on his chest as you closed your eyes and let out a deep breath, savoring his embrace as the cool beskar of his helmet pressed against your skin. 

Now the moment was perfect.

“Din…” you breathed his name with a smile on your face as you broke away to meet his gaze. You wanted to say more, yet the words failed you. Yet, you both know they weren’t needed.

“I know,” he replied in the same tone that made your heart flutter.

Just then, an inquisitive coo and a tug at his boots broke the moment. You and Din broke contact with a start as Grogu whined to be picked up. 

With a short laugh, Din reached down, “I got you, bud,” he said as he lifted the child into his arms and faced him to you.

“Hey buddy,” you giggled as you playfully nudged his little cheek, “You enjoying this place too?”

Grogu replied with a happy coo, which made both you and Din chuckle softly.

“Shall we head back?” Din offered.

“Yeah,” you replied, “I think he’s ready for something to eat.”

“Let’s go then,” Din opened his arm to invite you closer to him. As you shuffled closer so he could feel the warmth of your body against his, Din couldn’t help but feel that this truly was the perfect day. He felt his own heart pound in his chest as the two most important people in the entire galaxy were tucked safely away in his embrace and he made a note to himself to find more serene spaces just like this on every planet you visited. 

[nebuliias]

Your probably busy with your own life but is it alright if I could request reader being the younger sibling of Sunday and Robin

Do you know the scene where Robin gets 'killed'? what if instead of Robin it was the reader? how would Sunday and Robin react to the news of their younger sibling getting 'killed'?

Thank you for your time and have a great day/noon/night!!

SYNOPSIS. . . With the Charmony Festival nearing by the day, the revered Halovian siblings start getting anxious when their kin hasn’t been heard of for days.

CHARACTERS FEATURED. . . sunday and robin

CW: hurt/no comfort (I tried), gn and sibling! reader, they’re your biological older siblings, potential spoilers, platonic, like one mention of Gopher Wood, reader is aged 16 and a Nameless

— A/N’s note: HIIII EVERYONE. wow i actually posted something since who knows how long LMAO. so sorry for lack of updates, motivation has been very low and dry lately. anyways NEW FORMAT everyone

The air in Dewlight Pavilion was thick with worry and tension as the Charmony Festival’s date approached. The legendary siblings, Sunday and Robin, were together in the study room, their faces betraying their concern.

Their precious youngest sibling—basically, you—had promised yesterday to pay a visit in Moment of Morning Dew since you haven’t seen them for so long, considering your occupation as a Nameless.

Normally, Sunday, your protective older brother, would let your delays slide—if only it wasn’t for the fact that you were three hours late.

As for Robin, she nervously combed her fingers through her hair while adjusting her dainty neck pieces. “Brother, perhaps you should sit down for awhile? You’ve been pacing back and forth for awhile. Maybe they’re just visiting some shop or strolling—”

“Robin, it’s been three long hours,” he abruptly stated. “I’m pretty sure they’re not strolling around at some random park in the Dreamscape. They’re always punctual, you know that!” The man sighed, eventually sitting down beside his younger sister.

Poor Sunday, he was visibly anxious and worried. He plucked at several loose hair strands and feathers from the wings by his ears. Ever the neat perfectionist, it was ironic to see him in such a distressed state. But Robin couldn’t blame him.

It had been a pretty long time after all…

Just when she was about to excuse herself to use to the restroom, a Bloodhound guard came bursting through the grand wooden doors, a manilla folder in his sweaty hand.

“Ah, Mr. Sunday..! Oh, and hello, Miss Robin,” he panted. “My deepest apologies for interrupting whatever was happening, but I have urgent news to report.”

Sunday rapidly approached the man. “What happened? Hold on, is this about..?”

“Yes,” the Bloodhound confirmed. “Another person has fallen victim to ‘Death.’ We’ve gathered enough information, but I’m afraid you’ll be displeased who said person was.”

There was a moment of silence as Sunday split the folder open, revealing three sheets of paper. His hand trembled ever so slightly as he picked up a sheet, already thinking the worst.

Please, don’t let it be who I think it is.

Robin, who was peering over his shoulder, audibly gasped, stumbling back with a gloved hand at her mouth, muffling the incoming sobs. “No.. No, it can’t be!”

The Bloodhound bowed deeply, his face contorted in distress. “My condolences, Mr. Sunday and Miss Robin, but Y/N.. was killed by the Memory Zone Meme.”

The siblings stared blankly at the papers spread out on the desk.

•••

Name: Y/N L/N

Family: Gopher Wood, Dreammaster and adoptive father | Sunday, Oak Family Head and older brother | Robin, cosmic superstar and older sister.

Age: 16

Affliation: Nameless

Cause of death: Memory Zone Meme, “Death”—stab wound through the heart.

•••

There were several photographs taken of the scene, and Robin felt overwhelming nausea at the mere sight of it. Her body went rigidly stiff, her chest rose and fell slowly, and the world around her blurred. One hand shielded her lips and the other was put over her heart.

Meanwhile, Sunday’s strong-willed heart shattered. He felt so many things at once: shock, fury, sadness, despair—basically every negative emotion wrote in the dictionary. Yet at the same time, he didn’t know what to feel.

After awhile, the Halovian idol stood up, her legs now jittery from the sudden revelation. She took in a shaky deep breath before exhaling, not daring to break down in front of her brother. “…I’m going to use the restroom.” With that, she slowly walked out of the study, leaving the revered leader alone with his turmoil.

None of them couldn’t think straight, but who could blame them? Their sibling was dead. Their youngest sibling was dead. Their kin was dead. Their determined Nameless. Their sibling was dead.

Sunday, now isolated, suddenly felt hot beneath his clothing. His mind was disturbed, and his blue-gray wings twitched madly. He didn’t know how to act, but in the end, he let out a cry and ripped the papers apart along with the photographs before throwing the folder in a nearby trash can.

Oh, how he felt like diving into it himself. He felt like trash itself now—unwanted, crumbled, and torn apart.

Back with Robin, she ran past several Oak Family servants and dashed into the restroom, madly locking the door to ensure no one would run into her. She fell against the toilet and heaved into it, her nausea reaching its brink.

After the ordeal, she wiped her mouth before staring at herself in the mirror, unable to hold back her sadness anymore. Transparent tears poured down her flawless face, carving dry rivers in their run. Sorrowful sobs sounded from her throat, her once melodious voice now gone harsh.

Poor you. Poor, poor, poor, you. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve any of this. You didn’t deserve to have your life crushed like a ladybug.

Just.. why..?

all rights reserved © nebuliias. do not copy, re-upload, or plagiarize my fics. if you see anyone doing this to my work, LET ME KNOW.

[gingerbloof]

red (astarion x fem fighter!tav)

contents: light smut, fingering, tav getting injured, blood, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of other companions (Halsin, Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Gale), bathing/skinny dipping in a hot spring Astarion being an absolute sweetheart, use of safe word (hard stop), non-sexual intimacy

author's note: gahhh finally i got this request finished! this is a anon request from my smut prompt list (which you can find in my masterlist!) it's more fluff/hurt/comfort than smut, because i wanted to change it up a bit since its been rather smutty on my blog thus far, but regardless, i hope you all enjoy! (image taken from @dailyastarionpics) word count: 3,821

It was yet another excruciating day of traveling Faerun, and unfortunately with no leads on curing your ceremorphosis. You and your party drudged their feet sluggishly back into camp, wishing for nothing but the sweet release of sleep. Even though the sun was already starting to peak over the horizon and morning dew started to bead on each blade of grass your tired feet landed on.

Karlach, half asleep already, started the pointless fire as Shadowheart went around to heal everyone. Once she made your way to you, her eyes widened. She brushed silver bangs off her face so she could look at you clearly. Her face grew with worry as she spoke.

“Tav… How did that happen?” She asked, pointing to your ribs. Your face scrunched up in confusion as you looked down at yourself. You then see a horrific wound that wrapped from the front side of your ribcage that wrapped around to your back. You stare at it wearily,  blood dripping down your skin and mixing with the dirt under your feet.

You suddenly grew pale as you felt the adrenaline from your last battle start to wear off. You tried your best to keep your composure. Years as a fighter taught you that there was no use in submitting to any wounds you may have gotten from battle. Lae’zel admired that about you, which is why it surprised you when she looked over from her tent and raised her eyebrows in surprise and rush over to you.

“Tsk’va! Tav what the hells happened?!” She asked, a very rare worried tone in her voice.

You let out a sound between a chuckle and a scoff. “It’s just a… scratch,” The last word was soft and breathy, then you felt your body begin to sway, and your surroundings blur, until darkness clouded over you. The last thing you heard was your beloved fanged partner shout “Darling!” before you submitted to the pitch blackness of unconsciousness.

***

You woke up with a groan, pain shooting through your side. You open your eyes slowly, the world slowly coming back into focus. You were snug in your bedroll, shirtless, and caked in sweat. The injury you got must’ve infected you at some point and gave you a fever, which was now thankfully breaking.

You looked down at your injury and saw that it was quickly healing, probably thanks to the help of both Halsin and Shadowheart. Careful stitches held your broken flesh together, which you knew was thanks to Astarion, whom you barely noticed was right next to you reading a book. You started to sit up as he snapped his book shut and shifted so he was on his side facing you. 

“Easy, darling!” He said concerningly, laying you back down slowly. You looked up at him with sleepy eyes as you allowed him to lay you back down. “You’re still in a bit of bad shape, no sudden movement, alright?” He said soothingly, running his slender pale fingers through your hair and laying a kiss on your forehead.

You sighed softly with a bit of frustration, leaning into his kiss. “I’m fine, my love…” You said, your voice low and gruff. “‘Tis but a flesh wound, I promise.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “‘My love, I don’t believe a ‘flesh wound’ would cause you to collapse from blood loss and get… twelve stitches,” He said, glancing briefly at your injury and counting them quickly. “We also had to pull a rather big chunk of metal out of your side…” You sigh again and carefully cross your arms over your chest, pouting at him. “I’ve had a lot worse, you know,” You said in a snarky tone, pointing to the big gash in your face that you had gotten years ago.

He gasped and placed his hand over his chest in a sarcastic manner. “Oh, I’m so sorry! It seems I have forgotten that such a strong bodied fighter such as yourself doesn’t need any comfort,” He said cheekily, the corners of his mouth curving into a smirk as your face flushed bright red.

“I-I didn’t say that!” You pouted even more, turning your head away from him. Regardless of your strong outer shell, he always brought out your very well hidden soft interior. He was the only one who could do it, and knowing that inflated his already massive ego.

He laughed heartily at your reaction, gently taking your chin in his cold hand and turning your head back around to face him. “You are utterly adorable,” He cooed, giving you a quick smooch on the lips. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up, darling. No offense, my love, but you smell like death.”

You frown and sniff yourself briefly, the smell of stale blood and sweat assaulting your nostrils. How embarrassing… You nodded, and he very carefully helped you up. He pulled off his own nightshirt for you to wear, and linked your arm with his so you didn’t stumble.

As you exit your tent, the assaulting rays of the afternoon sun almost blind you. You squint in the light and use your hand to shield your eyes as Shadowheart and Halsin quickly rush over to you both, relief washing over their faces.

“Tav! You’re awake, thank Selune!” Shadowheart beamed, cupping your face gently. You smile warmly at her and chuckle. As your best friend, other than Astarion of course, Shadowheart was always giving you sweet friendly touches. You adored having someone like her around.

Halsin was next to speak, his large frame thankfully shielding the sun from your still very tired eyes. “Thank the Oak Father… We were worried your injuries were far too grave for us to heal alone. Good to see we were wrong,” He smiled warmly at you. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged as you leaned against Astarion a bit more. “I’m okay, it just hurts a bit. We’re going to the river to clean up quickly,” You respond, reassuring them that you were fine. “Of course if she’s alright enough to do so,” Astarion chimed in, lifting your shirt enough for the healers to take a look at it.

Shadowheart hummed and reached her hand out, chanting a soft “Te curo” as a soft blue light wrapped around your injury. This eased the pain quite a bit, and from the looks of it, her simple healing word seemed to have closed the gash up just a bit more. A sigh of relief left your lips as you said a silent thank you to her.

 “I think she will be fine, but I do recommend going to the hot spring, the warmth of the water and the healing properties of nature should make her feel good as new,” Halsin said. Astarion smiled at both of them. “Thank you, we shall take our leave for now, then,”

As you both turn to head towards the spring, Halsin spoke out to you once again. “Would you two mind if I joined?” A small but sweet smirk on his face. Both you and Astarion chuckled. You had both indulged yourselves with Halsin before, so it was always on the table when the time seemed right. Astarion looked to you to silently ask if that was alright, and you shook your head. You just wanted him right now…

Astarion replied on your behalf. “Mmm, tempting, but not tonight, druid. I hope you can understand.” Halsin nodded, fully understanding. “Of course. Enjoy yourselves, both of you.”

After walking for a few meters you found the spring. Neither of you have seen it before, so you both took a moment to soak up the view. There was a beautiful waterfall in the distance that led to the river, and mountains could be seen just beyond it. Moss covered rocks were placed conveniently around the steaming body of water, perfect to sit on to dip your feet in, and the trees hung low enough to lightly diminish the harsh ways of the afternoon sun from your view.

You smiled and sighed softly at the view. It was breathtaking. Astarion, however, was entranced by a different view. You.

You felt his eyes upon you and looked over to him, your eyes immediately locking with his. You tried to play it cool, looking back at the spring before you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked softly. He stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on your hip and carefully pulling you closer, minding your wound. “Not as beautiful as you, my love,” He purred softly, placing a kiss on your forehead. You flush deeply, and not just from the steam of the spring.

You both stay there for a moment, enjoying each other’s company. He sighed a contentful sigh as he pulled away from you briefly. “Come now, my love. Let’s get you all cleaned up,” He smiled. You nodded and started removing his shirt from yourself, but he quickly stopped you, taking your hands for a brief moment. “Let me, my dear,” He gently lifted the shirt off of you, careful not to let you lift your arms up too far. The shirt pulled off of you, revealing your bruised and injured body. Crusted up blood flaked over your skin, but regardless Astarion still looked at you like you were the most beautiful being in all the Relms.

Your small clothes came next. He slowly slipped them down around your ankles leaving you bare. Astarion soon followed suit, yanking down his pants and slowly stepping into the warm water. He reached his hand out to you and you took it, following him into the water.

You sigh in relief, the warmth of the water immediately relaxing your tired muscles. You stepped further into the pool, sinking down until the water was just above your breasts. Astarion went back over to the rock he left his trousers on and pulled out a bar of soap, which you hardly even noticed he grabbed. You raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Let me guess… Stolen?” You jabbed, crossing your arms lightly. Astarion half shrugged nonchalantly. “Only from Gale,” He responded with a chuckle. You roll your eyes and shake your head playfully. You weren’t surprised, he always took the opportunity to take anything important as he saw fit, especially if it was from Gale. He made his way back over to you, getting the bar of soap wet and lathering it in his hands. “Turn around, my love,” He said softly, taking your shoulders and spinning you in the water gently so your back was to him.

You comply and briefly dip yourself further into the water to wet the rest of your body. As you stood back up he placed a soft kiss on the nape of your neck and started his work. He scrubbed away the grime and flaked blood off the backs of your shoulders. You hum happily, wrapping your arm around to gently wrap your fingers around his beautiful silver locks. He wrapped his arms carefully around you, pulling you further into him. He placed soft kisses along the shell of your ear as the lather made its way to your chest and torso.

He continued to clean you innocently and sweetly for a few more moments until he turned you around. The way the suds of the soap encompassed your breasts and the golden rays of the sun making your wet skin glow flipped a switch inside of him. You were the most ethereal thing he had ever gazed upon.

You were entranced with him too. The sunlight bounced off of his beautiful pale skin, and he almost appeared to shimmer in it. His ruby eyes glinted as he looked at you, nothing but love and devotion filling them. 

“You know…” He started softly, tracing the backs of his knuckles down your arm, gazing down your figure. “I can think of some other ways to relieve some tension, darling,” His voice was a hungry purr now, honeyed words floating sweetly into your ears like a soft lullaby. You nibbled your bottom lip as you watched his movements as his hand creeped down to the front of your thigh. Once again, you tried playing it cool, despite the ever growing heat in your core. “W-What do you mean?” You asked softly.

A low chuckle left his lips. “Don’t be coy, darling. You know exactly what I mean,” A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as his fingertips gently grazed across your folds, making your breath hitch in your throat. “What’s the matter, my sweet? Cat got your tongue?” He hooked his index finger to part your folds and catch against your clit, brushing against it gently.

You grabbed his hand in an attempt to push his fingers against your swollen bundle of nerves more to get some much needed friction. He stiffened his hand, not allowing you to move it. He clicked his tongue in disapproval and shook his head, the corners of his mouth lifting in yet another devious smirk. 

“Patience, my sweet,” He purred next to your ear, his other arm snaking around and gripping your ass gently, pulling you further into him.

You stumbled a bit into him, clearly flustered by his bluntness. Uncharacteristic for someone of your class and background, but you didn’t care. Astarion brought a side out of you that you haven’t felt safe enough to channel in years, and you were very grateful for him for it.

He chuckled at your apparent shyness, placing soft kisses along your ear making you shiver. “S-Star…” You whimpered, making him groan. He loved that nickname, and you always knew the right times to use it. “Yes, darling? What is it?” He replied smugly, his feather light touches grazing your folds again, making you tense up.

“Please…” You mumble, making him groan in playful frustration. “My darling, we’ve gone over this multiple times… You must– say it with me now… use your words,” You shyly said those three cursed words along with him. As he said, you have gone over it multiple times, but you were much too stubborn to give in and actually tell him what you wanted. That was, until you were too desperate for him not to care anymore. Just like how you were right now.

“Astarion,” You said sternly, trying to keep up your strong facade. “I want you to touch me. Use your fingers. Please.” The last word you spoke was soft and breathy, your stubbornness bending like a hammer to hot steel. He grinned, his fangs glinting in the glow of the setting sun. Gods, he is beautiful…

“Of course, my love. Whatever you need,” He purred, his fingers finally placing soft pressure against your hard clit. You gasped softly as he used those two slender fingers to massage soft circles into it. You shivered, despite the hot steamy water that surrounded you both, and grasped onto his shoulders, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

He gently ran his fingers through your hair as he continued to stroke the fire in your core. To the innocent bystander, it might’ve looked like you were just having a sweet romantic hug in the water, but down below the surface, he was giving you endless pleasure, quickly bringing you to the point of no return.

With you being inexperienced when you started being intimate with one another, it never took you long to reach an orgasm, especially if he was the one touching you. He chuckled as he felt your body tremble against his. Your blunt fingernails gently dug into his skin as you felt your orgasm creep closer and closer. Normally, he would make you ask to come because he relished in the sounds of you begging. However, given the circumstances, he decided to play nice with you today.

“That’s it, my pet… Let go,” He whispered, kissing along your shoulder gently. His pace quickened, earning him a soft airy gasp from you. Your breath wavered as his fingers continued their quickening pace against your clit, your legs starting to tremble. “A-Astarion…!” You choked out, grasping onto him for dear life. He hummed in approval as his pace quickened once again, making your eyes snap shut and let out a delicious, loud moan.

Your orgasm crashed into you like the waterfall behind you crashing into the river, your whole body twitching and spasming. You almost fell over from how hard you came, but thankfully Astarion’s stiff body kept you upright. He slowed his pace, riding you through your orgasm and whispering sweet praises into your ear. “There you go, my sweet… What a good girl you are,” He peppered kisses along your neck as he slowly withdrew his hand. 

You panted as you looked at him. Your face was beet red, and your brow was starting to bead sweat from the heat of the spring and your orgasm. He smiled sweetly down at you and caressed your cheek. “Would you like more?” He asked, as you felt his cock throb against you. You nodded eagerly, slipping your hand down beneath the water to stroke him gently. He took your wrist and shook his head.

“Please, my dear… Allow me,” He purred. He gently guided you over to a nearby rock to the shallower end of the pool. “Bend over here, darling,” He gently coaxed. You were quick with your actions, yet careful. You didn’t want to reopen your wound. You gently bent over the rock, arching your back slightly for him. He came behind you and stared at your swollen cunt, dripping with ecstasy and still twitching from your previous orgasm. He ran his hands across the swell of your ass and down the sides of your thighs, groaning softly. “Beautiful…”

He took his cock and gently pressed the tip against your hole. “Are you ready, my sweet? Are you ready to be stretched by my cock?” He asked, his tone sweet and innocent despite the filthy words. You nodded eagerly, arching your back a bit more in an attempt to push yourself onto him. “Y-Yes… Please, I need you…” You replied, your voice full of desperation.

The eagerness in your words was all the confirmation he needed. He slowly started to roll his hips into you, pressing each inch of his cock further and further into you. You moaned loudly as you stretched around him and clenched. He hissed in pleasure at your tightness as he thrust slowly in and out of you, closing his eyes. You growled softly at the feeling of you. “Gods, Tav… You feel so fucking good,” He said, pressing into you harder, earning a loud yelp from you.

Sometimes, especially in moments of insatiable desire such as this, Astarion could be a bit rough with you. It was almost like he went feral from your sounds and the feeling of you pulsating around him. Thus, you have agreed upon a word that either of you could use if things got out of hand. Neither of you had to use it yet, but if he kept up this harsh, rough pace, you would have to use it.

His speed increased, thus his roughness. The pleasure started turning into a soft, manageable pain as the tip of his cock pounded against your cervix. He must not have noticed your body tense, because he kept going, wrapping his hands around your waist, accidentally touching your stitched wound.

That is what made you say it.

 “R-Red!! Astarion, red!”

His eyes snapped open as he stopped, pulling out of you quickly and turning you around gently, his face broken with worry. “Oh, my dear, I am so sorry… Did that hurt? Are you okay?” He asked, checking your wound briefly to see if he had accidentally reopened it. You panted softly, trembling a bit. You winced softly with pain. “I-It was just my injury… I think I’ll be okay,” You reassured him, feeling bad that you had ruined the moment. He shook his head. “No, darling… Let’s stop, I don’t want to cause any more harm to you. I-i don’t know what got into me, I-” 

You noticed he started rambling a bit and… Tearing up. You had yet to see him cry about anything, so this surprised you. Your face grew with worry as you caressed his cheek. “Hey… It’s okay, I’m okay,” You said gently. He leaned into your touch and shook his head again. “Gods I am so sorry…” He apologized again, his voice laced with guilt. You kissed him sweetly on the nose and smiled at him. “My heart, I’m okay. Thank you for stopping when I said it.” He chuckled at that. “Of course I stopped. I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable,” He said gently, placing a soft peck on your lips. You kissed him back and smiled warmly. You had never had anyone who cared about your safety and wellbeing as much as he did, nor him with you. You both felt so safe together, and absolutely nothing could ruin that.

He pulled away slightly and took the bar of soap again, coaxing you over with his finger. “Come, my love, let’s finish getting you washed up.”

After you both bathed, you stayed in the spring for a few hours, talking about everything and nothing and enjoying each other’s company. The moon had risen a while ago, bathing you both in its faint blue light. You stared up at the moon as you sunk down into the water to your shoulders. You barely noticed the wound anymore, and you felt relaxed and very well healed.

 Astarion had gotten out a few minutes ago to dry off. He stared at you and had a devilish idea. He smirked to himself as he slowly slipped back into the water, trying not to make too much noise. He snuck up behind you, totally oblivious. Just as he was about to splash you with water, you flipped around and got his face and hair soaking wet, making him groan in frustration. “Gahh, my hair! My beautiful hair!” He pouted, making you laugh hysterically. “Sneaking up on a fighter, really, my love?” You said through laughs. He scowled a bit, then started to laugh as well. “Foolish idea, I know…” He admitted, wading closer to you. “But you didn’t have to ruin my hair…” He whined. You grin evilly at him, lifting your hand to his head.

“No, no! Stay back, you!” He shouted as he tried to get away from you. You chased him around the pool for a bit, laughter and playful banter filling the night.

Halsin and Shadowheart were silently watching you both from the clearing just before the pool, smiling sweetly. “She seems to be doing a lot better now, doesn’t she, Halsin?” Shadowheart queried, making Halsin chuckle as he replied. “What can I say… Love certainly is the best medicine.”