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tragedybunny · 7 months

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Something Like Love - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion has failed to seduce you, but even so, a bond has begun to grow between the two of you. It all comes to a head when Astarion almost loses you.

You infuriated Astarion. At first it was because stopping to help every person you happened upon was delaying dealing with his problems. Now that you had been traveling together for some time, not only were these little side adventures a delay, but you didn’t seem to be careful about how much they took out of you and how tired they left you. Even your other companions didn’t seem to care, letting you agree to solve every problem that you came upon and even adding to the pile.

But not him. Astarion was always right there at your side with a glare and a snapping refusal, which you’d usually brush off, but at least he tried. The rest of them just smiled and nodded, without noticing the circles under your eyes, or how slow you moved some mornings, or how thin you’d gotten. Protector wasn’t a position he normally found himself in, but you were different, you were kind to him, without expecting anything in return, as far as he could tell anyway. The two of you hadn’t even slept together, not for lack of trying on his part. The couple times he’d tried you firmly refused, and yet somehow you stayed kind to him, even still offering him your blood. In fact you didn’t seem to want anyone in camp. That was also exasperating. How could he expect your continued kindness, and protection which he desperately needed, without repayment? And what was he better at than sex?

So he resolved he’d give you whatever small gestures he could. Whenever you tore an item of clothing, he’d mend it at first chance. When the group made camp for the night, he always made sure your tent was up first, in whatever spot you wanted, and helped you pack when it was time to move on. Every battle, he stood at the backline with you while you cast spells, aiming arrows at anyone who got too close to you, his first priority keeping you safe. And he still tried to keep you from overextending yourself, despite no one ever listening to him. Which had led to the shouting match with Halsin earlier. Well it wasn’t really a shouting match, the Druid had remained frustratingly placid in the face of Astarion’s blustering. He’d already been vocally unhappy about looking for this Thaniel or whatever, but you’d found him, and still Halsin asked more. “We need to worry about Thorm, we don’t have time to keep bothering with this!”

“Curing the land could help break Thorm’s hold. I know you all don’t owe it to me.” Gods why did he ask like that, all humble and dissembling. You would cave to that for sure,

“You’re right, we don’t.”

“But…”

“Hells, can’t you see how much all of this is taking out of her!” Astarion had exploded, voice loud enough that some of your other companions jumped.

“It’s fine Astarion,” you’d gently placed a hand on his arm, “let’s finish this.”

With a frustrated growl, he’d yanked his arm away, regretting the hurt on your face. “Fine.”

That all led to this moment, you’d fended off the creatures summoned by the corrupted spirit, and Astarion watches as you calmly approach it. Speaking softly, your words soothe it, and he could see it starting to trust you. As always, you amaze him with your ability to solve things with your words, but he feels a twinge of something else, a want for something like those kind words that fell from your lips so easily. The spirit vanishes and Astarion finally feels a bit of relief it seems over. That is until your knees give way and you collapse to the jagged paving stones beneath you.

He's at your side instantly, a scream tearing itself from his throat. “Somebody fucking help her.”

Shadowheart js the first to respond, hands peeling away the light armor you wear, revealing gashes left by one of those shadow creatures that had gotten close. Teeth bite down into his lip to hold back a sob, he hadn’t even noticed, he’d failed the one duty he had. That ire finds a new target easy enough though, as Halsin attempts to join Shadowheart in tending to you. He’s barely started to kneel next to you when Astarion lunges, hissing and fangs flashing. “No you stay the fuck away from her, this is your fault!” For a second his face falls with guilt, but Astarion is in no state for empathy, all blame now on the Druid in his mind.

Hands fight to grab hold of him, to get close enough to tear his thick throat out. A pair of strong arms wraps around his waist, pulling him back from his murderous goal. “Easy Fangs, she’ll be alright,” Karlach tries to reassure him.

He struggles against her iron hold, still flinging curses and furious words. “That’s not the point, this shouldn’t have happened. But no one wanted to listen to me, none of you selfish idiots care when you’re asking too much!”

That was it, they’d all turn on him now, especially without you aware enough to defend him. To his surprise, Karlach just holds him slightly tighter, and keeps whispering that it was going to be fine. Wyll comes over to lay a hand on his shoulder, face stoic. "Shadowheart has this.”

At least Halsin has stepped back, expression troubled. Good, let him suffer. A spell glows in Shadowheart’s hands, suturing back together your skin, and your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, for a moment before closing again. Karlach wisely releases him, leaving him free to hover over you and ward off Halsin as he takes a hesitant step toward you. He’d be damned if anyone else was carrying you, the lot of them were untrustworthy. Reverently, he leans down, taking you in his arms, and lifting you from the ground. Gods, you were so small, there was almost nothing to you. How did you seem so imposing most of the time?

Silently, the group makes it’s way back to camp, Astarion holding tightly to you the whole way. When they reach the cluster of tents, he goes straight to yours to lay you down gently in your blankets. Turning back to the rest of the party he snarls in their direction. "All of you better stay the hells out of this tent until she's properly healed," he snaps the tent flap shut and wishes he had a door to slam on their faces.

Sitting down next to you, he pulls your hand into his and tried to forget about the stinging in his eyes. "You're going to be alright Darling. You have to be."

For hours he sits there, hand holding yours, waiting, watching your chest rise and fall, the reassurance he hadn’t lost you. Losing you, he can’t even fathom it. His protector, companion, he'd even go so far as to say friend. Even if you didn't notice how he was always at your side whenever you stayed up to launder your clothes, or how you never took a turn to cook alone, or how he was always walking right next to you on the road.

You sigh in your sleep and he feels a tug in that place that sometimes wonders if you could be more than friends. Which was stupid, you hadn't even wanted sex with him. Besides, what you already gave him was more than he deserved considering what he had been planning after sleeping with you.

Finally, exhausted, he drifts into meditation, still holding onto you, until your sleep heavy voice pulls him out of it. "Astarion?"

His eyes are wide immediately and without a second thought, he throws himself into your arms, nuzzling into your neck. "You're awake." Then he starts crying like an idiot; ugly, undignified sobs against your skin. "I was worried," he tries to explain leaping on you and his ridiculous tears.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you." You put your arms around him, accepting him without question, like always.

"You silly, silly girl, you were the one that almost died. Don't apologize to me." He's trying desperately to stop bawling uncontrollably.

"I know, but I don't like to see you upset." Ever so lightly, he can feel your hand brushing through his hair.

"Why," he's managed to get himself somewhat under control, but doesn't move from where you've let him lay. "Why are you like this? Always giving, even when it's too much for you?"

You hesitate for a moment. "Because I care about you."

"You do," he asks, unwilling to let himself believe what he's heard.

"Well, I care about everyone," of course he should've realized, "but I care about you a very great deal, Astarion."

Astarion freezes, the words leaving warmth in that secret place inside that he's been trying to keep from himself and you. "I don't understand."

"I see you. I see how hard you try and how far you've come, and how much you try to do for me." There's a smile in your voice and impossibly he thinks it has something to do with him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" His hand searches yours out and your fingers interwine.

"I didn't think you were ready to hear it. But today it was almost too late to tell you." You've placed both of your hands over your chest and he can feel your heartbeat.

"I…I don't know how I feel." Inwardly, he quails, worried that will drive you. "But this is nice."

"It's alright Astarion, there's no rush to this." Impulsively, he leans up to leave a feather light kiss on your cheek, grateful for you in ways he can't understand.

#Astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #x reader #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #my fanfic #my writing

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bunny584 · 4 months

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OBSESSED: NANAMI (PT. II)

A/N: Because our collective husband won the contest. Gege texted me saying obviously Nanami would win. He also said if I don’t post a second part immediately Choso gets the boot next season. So I’m doing this for ALL of us 🤗 (I swear, I swear I’m 90% done with H&H for those of you that follow/have tolerated my lollygagging).

C/W: Fluff, Breeding, Mature, 18+

“It wasn’t over…it still isn’t over.”

Lines from The Notebook bubble from your lips onto Nanami’s bare chest. You’re curled onto him like a Cheshire cat. Your pretty, flushed mouth pets him. Followed closely by muffled sniffles. You bury your misty eyes and runny nose into his ratty, old college baseball shirt.

The one washed heather grey from the days turned months turned years of your careful handwashing.

I can get you another shirt, my love.

But I want this one, Ken. It reminds me of when we first fell in love.

Your answer is the same whenever he offers. Pouring all of your being into mending the natural little holes, the frays, and strain that comes with time.

His precious girl.

You nurse his shirt back to health, time and time again. In the same way you kiss him on rainy Sunday mornings. And pull him into the kitchen to dance with you under candlelight. And sneak extra food into his packed lunch on days he has to work overtime.

You are celestial.

With you he’s entrenched in the Heavens.

With you he builds the palatial wings of his own personal Icarus. Flying close, nearly too close, to the blinding warmth of your Sun.

“It’s so romantic, isn’t it?”

You shift up higher on him. Torsos melding together. Both your thighs cradled between his pajama clad legs. Nanami drags his fingers along your delicate spine.

God, he revels in you like this.

“It is, baby.”

Nanami catches the glassy mosaic in your eyes. Worthy of display in the Sistine Chapel.

You quickly bury your head into his neck, embarrassed about crying over a movie you’ve both seen over 10 times.

“I’m being so ridiculous, I’m sorry. It’s the stupid, dumb, stupid hormones.”

You press a cloud soft kiss into his chest and it reverberates down to his thundering heart.

Truthfully, Nanami has spent the entirety of the film watching you.

Tiny wrinkles in your button nose during some scenes, giggles and full belly laughs at others. You try to bite back your sobs. Slap away your tears before they splash against his abs — like they don’t correlate with the same points in the plot everytime.

He purposefully chose The Notebook after dinner because of your reactions. Just so he could fall in love with you all over again.

Just like Icarus.

Who fell from flying too close to the Sun.

Because loving you feels like a blissful free fall. With no ground in sight.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” The words flow out of Nanami. He can’t seem to contain it.

A pretty gasp escapes you. You pull away from the TV to shift closer to his face.

“Oh, Ken. I can’t wait to—“

“Kiss me.” His voice is throaty, laced with growing need.

Such an obedient girl.

Your lips are addicting. A fiend’s paradise.

He surges his hands in your hair while his tongue traces and tastes every corner of your mouth. You whine into him. He sucks on your tongue before taking your bottom lip into his teeth.

“Baby,” You breathe against his lips. Gentle pants melding with his.

Nanami kisses a hushed I love you into your mouth, before shifting your bodies on the plush couch.

His cock has been throbbing the entire movie. His shirt has inevitably shrunken over the years. Where it used to fall past your mid thighs, now it rides halfway over your hips.

Your plump, perky ass has been in plain view the whole night. Nothing protecting you from his invasion except for a thin, baby doll thong. Navy. Like the letters on his alma mater’s shirt.

Because your body is in heat, preparing you for a baby, your breasts are noticeably larger.

Filling out his shirt in the most mouth watering way. Your nipples, hard and sensitive, enticing him with every miniscule movement.

God, the way you wince and squeal when you brush your buds too harshly against him. Or whimper when the supple, puffy flesh of your tits push against his rigid body a little too hard.

His cock bucks off his thigh every single time.

The next 3 days Nanami will be reduced to the most rudimentary version of himself.

He’ll follow you around the house like a lap dog. Burying his nose and mouth and lips and tongue into every part of your body. He’ll grope you. Rub his crotch into you at every turn. Cum from just sucking on your nipples, if you let him.

You two have decided to abstain from sex when you ovulate. Until you are ready to create a love child.

He says you, because Nanami is fully ready, eager, to have mini-yous filling his home with life.

And really, he’s happy to let you dictate your family planning.

But the next 3 days will be torture. His needy, oversensitive heavy cock will drive every thought. He’ll jerk off more times than he can count.

Nanami is on his back now, with you perfectly perched on his manhood. Nothing but your thin panties cupping your precious little cunt. His length tents right up against you, begging for entry.

Both of your warm hands caress each hill and valley of his abs. Little crystals line your wide, puppy eyes. Tip of your nose so deeply flushed from all your tears. Cheeks dusted rose from your sex rubbing against his in this position.

No matter how many years you two have been intimate, you always blush, and squirm, and look away and hide your face like it’s the first time.

And it just makes him want to bury his cock in you. And take you. And worship you. And keep you swollen with his cum.

“How did I get so lucky?”

Again, Nanami means to think the statement but it rolls off his tongue on its own accord.

“D-do you mean that?” The way your bottom lip quivers makes his cock drool.

“My love. Your name was etched into my heart from the day I met you.”

Nanami pulls himself up so that your chest collides with his. You whimper at the sudden contact and the sound decimates his brain.

He crashes his lips into yours once more.

Your sweet mouth is blinding. You immediately evanesce into him. Little “ohs” and little “mmms” escape you in the pockets of breath Nanami allows you.

His cock jerks violently against your warm, dewy folds. Your arousal has soaked through your measly barrier. Now mixing with his, staining his sweats.

“Oh sweetheart,” Nanami husks against your lips. His fingers go to move your thong aside and are now drenched.

“So wet for me. Such a needy girl.”

He circles your puffy clit twice. And you buck against his veiny hand.

“Mmnnggh…oh god, K-Ken..” broken little moans kiss Nanami’s neck, while he pets your soaking wet folds.

“My precious girl,” he muses, fully aware of how pliant you become under his sweet words and light touch.

Nanami shifts his hips upward, just to avoid his legs falling asleep. But the sound that emanates from your lips is mind altering.

The friction from his fingers on your sensitive bud and his barely clothed, steel pipe length bullying into your opening drives you to see stars.

You bury your head back into the crook of his neck. So embarrassed about the way your hips start rutting against his cock. Slowly. On low autopilot.

Nanami grips your fleshy ass with his free hand. Pushing you deeper onto his rod every time you hump him.

“Oh yeah, baby?”

He gently teases into your ear. It’s such a fucking turn on. You rutting against him so desperately. Blushing up to your ears. Trying and failing miserably at fighting your body when it’s in heat like this.

Your nails dig little crescents into Nanami’s back. Small little puffs of air feather his skin.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” Nanami huffs.

“Use my cock. Make yourself feel good.”

You mewl at his words. Frustrated that the friction you want, need, is escaping you.

“I-I’m so…” words broken by your sloppy, desperate humping. Nanami grips your ass tighter. He suspends his hips upward to help you.

But his adjustments just make you whine louder. Pulling your face out of his neck to glare at him. Little frustrated crystals fall from your eyes. Your pupils are completely blown. Eyelids heavy. Nostrils flaring.

Fucking hell.

He could cum from just looking at you right now.

You need his cock. It feels criminal not to sink into your begging, decadent, pretty little cunt right now. When your body has worked so hard to prepare you to be stuffed and bred.

“I’m so horny,” another salty tear rolls down your pretty face.

And Nanami has to look up at the ceiling.

Because you say things like that.

While dripping around his dick. With your puffy tits and lips. Wearing his shirt that reminds you both of when you first fell in love.

How can you expect him to maintain any decorum?

“I-I-I love you with all my heart, Kento.”

And, he’s off.

You snap his last remaining string of self control in half.

Nanami takes another bruising kiss from your lips. His hands start dragging his shirt over your head. And you immediately moan into him.

“Be gentle with it!” You scold through delirious groans.

He can’t help but smile against your lips. His sweet, tender hearted future wife. So protective. Even if it’s just a cotton t-shirt.

“Forgive me baby, I’ll be more gentle.”

Willing his hands to move a beat slower. He pulls the prized possession over your head and sets it on the couch ledge behind you.

His eyes instantly drop to your sensitive nipples. And you squirm away from his searing gaze.

“My beautiful wife.” Nanami murmurs.

He places feather light kisses on your sensitive mounds.

Your tiny fingers wire through his hair and gently tug. And Nanami’s cock twitches in return. Leaking more of his arousal onto the mess you both have created.

“Can I make love to you baby? All I need is my tongue.”

Grit in his tone almost sharp enough to nick your skin.

You roll your bottom lip under your teeth. Wanton and utterly fucked out, you drop your hand to his crotch for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss from your soon-to-be husband.

“I want to feel you.” Hot desire woven throughout your angelic features.

Your voice calls to his manhood. The last remaining blood in his brain diverts directly to his groin.

“I…” Nanami pulls in a deep, shaky breath.

“I won’t be able to pull out, pretty girl.”

You take a kiss this time, swirling your sweet tongue around his. Nanami melts into your mouth like chocolate. Palming both of your hips with his large hands.

Pull out? He won’t be able to last more than 5 seconds inside you at this rate.

“You’re my husband,” your dulcet voice absolutely fucking his brain.

“And I want to feel you.”

Nanami has to bite back a pathetic whine. There’s barely 3 seconds left before he’s thrusting into you like the caged animal he is.

“Sweetheart, I could…” No, he knows he will.

“I will get you pregnant tonight.”

He offers you the last warning he’ll be able to mumble before he starts.

You cup his face. Place a chaste kiss on his swollen lips and grind onto his helplessly rock hard cock.

“Then let’s make a baby.”

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fooled-around-and-fell · 2 months

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do you write for jjk men? if yes, can i please request some suguru geto hurt/comfort? any plot, i just need my heart broken and mended back together

thank you! 🌸

i do! i hope you like this and i hope you're okay ❤️‍🩹

your best.

summary: suguru says some hurtful things after a failed mission. genre: angst to fluff pairing: suguru geto x female reader warnings: cursing

Masterlist

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gojo told you that suguru had gotten hurt during their mission. as one of their healers and as suguru's girlfriend, of course you worry when you can't find suguru in your office, ready to receive some of your lecture because he's not careful enough and some love because you're glad he's okay.

"suguru," you knock and open his door slowly.

his room is dark, only his bedside lamp is on while he's sitting on the floor, head resting on the bed. you can tell he's been hurt; the blood on his shirt, the cut on his cheek, bruises about to form...

you quietly sit next to him, inching closer to use your technique to heal his wounds. he slowly sighs, opening his eyes and holding your hand to stop you.

"i failed."

"sugu-"

"he got away, i couldn't stop him." he continues, "i should've been faster, should've- fuck."

you place your other hand on his wounded arm and begin your technique. "you did everything you could."

"you don't understand..."

"...but i know you gave it your best shot. you always do."

"what do you know? you can't even fight." that one comment hurts because it's true, but hurts regardless. suguru knows he probably hurt your feelings, but he's too angry to say anything else. what if he says something worse?

with a quiet sigh, you finish patching him up and leave a kiss on his forehead. "goodnight."

and it burns on his skin.

"you can't even fight"

it's true, you can't -- not well, at least. you're a healer, so your studies in Jujutsu High are focused on medicine alongside shoko. now that you think about it, compared to everyone else, you're probably the weakest.

shoko's also a healer, but you're not at her level. yes, there are some things you specialize in that shoko can't do, but shoko has more of those - she can do more than you, she's better than you, she's-

"hey."

your head snaps up to see suguru standing in front of your door as you open it. you take the yakult he offers and stab the straw in.

"about last night.. i'm sorry. i didn't mean it."

suguru's worried when you don't say anything, not even taking a sip of your drink. he knows it's a sensitive topic, so his comment last night was truly a low-blow.

"'s okay." you shrug, but the sadness in your eyes tells him otherwise. "how are your wounds?"

"all healed, thanks to you." he tries to smile, but ends up being awkward because you only hum in response. "can i come in?"

you step aside so he can come inside, and you sit on the bed, suguru following you shortly. you've fought before, but not like this. this doesn't even seem like a fight. suguru's wary of his actions and words while it feels like you're constantly dozing off. it's too quiet.

"talk to me." suguru says, "please."

you sigh, "it's fine, suguru, really-"

"no, it's not." he insists, "what i said was wrong-"

"is it, though?" you frown, looking at your hands. "you're right, i can't fight. i can't even throw a punch."

"and that's fine, you're a healer-"

"..not a good one." you mutter under your breath, but suguru catches it.

suguru makes you look at him, hands on both sides of your face. "hey. no one else can heal me like you do. you think shoko can heal my wounds and leave butterflies? no, only you can do that."

you punch him playfully. "...she better not."

"see? you're throwing punches already." suguru jokes, a warm smile on his face. "hey," he traces his thumb over your cheek, "we always give our best, right?"

you give him a small smile. "right."

"good." he says, smushing your cheeks together and kissing you. "now let's skip class and cuddle, i need more of your healing."

"mmp-" you muffle out when suguru suddenly pulls you into his arms to lay on the bed. "i thought you're all healed?"

"yes but you didn't stay with me last night- entirely my fault, but i still missed you." he says. "plus you haven't lectured me yet."

chuckling, you pull him closer to you, inhaling his scent. "idiot."

"i'm glad you're okay."

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 1 month

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Acts of Love

Summary: The various ways in which you and Astarion show how much you love one another

“Could I kiss you?”

Oh his favourite question that falls from your lips every night before you head to bed and every morning when you first wake up. Each time you speak those words a shiver runs up his spine, the good kind that spurns him onwards, that opens his lips to let his dam of feelings spill forth.

“How could I say no?” He smiles each and every time, genuinely. Your lips taste divine and with each kiss he yearns for more. He yearns to show you how much he loves you, how much he cherishes you, how much he needs you and yet all he knows how to do is offer his body unto you. He doesn’t know how else to show you how much he cares, but he’s tries anyways.

He mends your clothes for you in the dead of night, and when morning comes he pretends like nothing has happened but you notice the stitches anyways. A silent thank you is exchanged, a small grateful smile sent his way when the others aren’t looking and he looks away, hiding his quickly blushing face.

The way the tips of his ears turn red doesn’t escape your notice.

When small gifts suddenly appear just outside your tent, he always feigns ignorance about their origins, but it’s always something you mentioned in passing the previous day to him. One day you decide to return the favour, and now its a daily occurrence, a way to show your love without needing to say anything. He refuses to tell you how he keeps every single trinket you gift to him, no matter how useless he says they are.

They’re pieces of your deep and genuine love for him, how could he not keep them?

As he kisses you over and over again, his fingers start to linger on your face longer and longer. If he could, he would never want to let go of you but alas he cannot have you to all to himself just yet, there are other travelling companions who need you, so every time you take those steps leading up to him, he closes the distance just to have a few more seconds with you. He pulls away from your lips with reluctance each and every time, resisting the urge to press his forehead against yours and simply relishes in the fact that you don’t mind his lingering touch. He would never let you go if he could, and he knows you feel the same way too when you slowly drag yourself away from his touch, the soft smile reserved only for him sent his way.

With each kiss, the kisses grows deeper as he pours more and more of his longing into them, wanting nothing more than you, loving the way your eyes half close when your lips connect, loving the way you melt into him. Your hands always find their way to the small of his back, pressing him flush against your body as his hands roam around, finding their way to your back and entangling in your hair. He loves the way you convey the love you have for him in each moment of the kiss, a warmth blooming in his undead chest each time your hands linger on his face after the kiss. He doesn’t mind how you nuzzle him afterwards, unable to get enough of him and he can never wipe the smirk off his face whenever he catches one of your companions sending him a scowl for taking you away from them.

You are his and he is yours.

He loves the way you cup his face after every night kiss, gazing into his eyes with such love and care that he gets lost in your eyes, drowning in the sea of your love. Only the touch of your thumb brushing over his cold skin pulls him back and he rests his own hands on yours, taking in the sight before him.

He imprints into his mind the way the moonlight shines upon you, basking you in its silvery light whenever you kiss him under the stars that dot the night sky. He doesn’t believe in the gods of Faerun but if someone told him that you were sent by Selune herself, he would believe them from the way the moonlight frames you perfectly each and every time. He can’t bring himself to let this moment go, wishing this moment would last forever but time always marches on, so he lets it go and eagerly awaits the next one, knowing you will come back to him once more when dawn breaks.

And you always do.

His face can’t help but light up whenever you approach him, his tongue full of honeyed words that dissapate into the air when he opens his mouth to greet you.

“Gods, you’re beautiful” is all he can manage, moved by the way you always find him first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. You’re always the last thing on his mind before he trances and the first thing on his mind when he wakes, for you to feel the same way brings him a joy he cannot find the words to describe. His flowery vocabulary always fails him when he opens his mouth to speak to you, only ever able to hold himself together just enough to form some words of greeting and the smile you give him in return only steals his heart over and over again.

“Can we talk about the two of us?”

Your voice is the sweetest melody he’s ever heard, he could listen to you talk all day about anything and everything, never growing tired of hearing words fall from your lips. When you speak up for him, defending him from those who do not understand his boundaries, his undead heart skips a beat. You use more than just your weapons and magic to protect him, your voice weaving power into words that create a shield around him and he wishes he could do the same for you.

“They said ‘no’. You should learn the meaning of the word.”

He can’t help but jump to your defense, snapping at the drow who keeps pushing you despite your protests. The grateful look in your eyes is well worth the outburst and pride swells within him. He can defend you just like how you defend him, he can return the favour and you appreciate it when he does so.

“I love you.”

He loves you so deeply that he fears losing you more than anything in this world, and he’s always afraid that one day you will leave him for someone else, someone better. He knows he will be powerless to do anything to stop you should that day come, he believes deep down that you deserve such a person but you show up at the flap of his tent every morning, a smile on your face that shines brighter than the morning sun. So he tells himself over and over again that you will never leave him, until one day, hopefully, it sinks in and he will be free of that worry forevermore.

“I love you. I love this. And I want it all.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #durgestarion

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elvirable · 8 months

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Ambrosia (Act 1)

[ Astarion x f!Reader ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 2k | status: ongoing themes/tags: vaginal sex, feelings realization, denial of feelings, light smut.. for now, and a whole lotta angst, will add more smut tho in the next chapters, soulmates, fluff, written as a glimpse into his mind during each act ———–

Astarion would never tell you, though - it was his little secret, one he hid away just for himself.

In other words: A delve into Astarion's thoughts, starting with the day he met you. *will update description at some point. ———– A/N: i wrote this as a peek into Astarion's mind throughout Act 1. plan to continue as i progress throughout the game. lmk what you think and if you like this style!

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Grief had a penchant for wearing different masks.

Phantom faces that slithered through shadows, white-hot wrath that clawed at the throat, an endless gnawing that swallowed one whole: all faces of a primordial monster that had existed before time itself.

Astarion knew all this.

He had met them all – intimate with its simplest form, a cold polarizing solitude; a loyal companion for two centuries, teaching him to lick his wounds with malice. Others had taken everything from him, or they were too weak to lift a meaningful finger. It took several lifetimes to finally mend his precious pride back together. Why should he practice mercy when no one had shown him any?

And by some stroke of luck, he was free – at least for now. Opportunity had fallen before his feet; he could chase after power, clutch revenge in his pale fingers, walk amongst the sun. Red eyes clung to the light glimmering across the water and wavering leaves. A desperate urge pulsed up his spine, insisting he memorize each saturated detail before it faded away like the most ethereal dream. The exhilaration rose wildly before plummeting to the pits of his stomach.

Huh, that was odd. It had never dawned on him that grief could also bloom in the slow, golden sunlight.

Languid beams washed against his flesh and through the faint hem of his shirt. Every fiber of his skin ached, dull and shallow, at the sacred warmth that had been a stranger for so long. He felt this haunted and holy gift – the vigor of life from each ray of light running over his fair face. Reunited once again, like long-lost lovers.

It was the sound of boots thudding against dirt that pulled him back into the world, on the ravaged beachfront.

With straight posture, a hollow smile painted itself across his lips. ==

“You have your mother’s eyes, you know.”

No, he didn’t know.

Quiet was this small voice that, for some odd reason, had grasped onto his conscience the night he died. It had sung loud in the beginning, but now it was just a whisper. Everything else had reduced to dust, long-buried beneath the cold earth.

But if he could conjure the ghost of his mother, he couldn’t be bothered to. Astarion envisioned a sharp tsk , a scowl dripping with disgust if she could see the creature he was today: a thrall to his own hedonistic desires, wielding manipulation and seduction as an instrument. A vampire , taking solace amongst the shadows and draining the life around him.

Maybe he was the same, just calloused and rearranged by the fate spun for him.

However, there was no need to exhume the past. It proved futile anyway; he couldn’t even recall the previous hue of his eyes, much less run his hands over his reflection. The only thing worthy of concern was survival. Memories had been shrouded by the same pivotal virtue, the one that carved the habit to become shapeless – to cater to every impulse and whim of those who could serve useful. Those who could protect him, at least for the time being.

And that was exactly what he tried with you, as his breath was inches from your slender neck and your eyes widened in hazy alarm, catching him by surprise.

“Shit.”

You scuttered to your feet in the frantic silence, dozens of excuses fluttering to Astarion’s tongue. The fatigue of bloodthirst hindered his wit, but he raised his palms in reservation.

He had already taken note of your misleading presence – you were small, but heavens , would you put up a fight. Other companions had already turned towards you for guidance the past few days, and you were carved with a beauty that could intimidate. Though, there were cracks underneath that facade – ones with darkness in between.

Peering into these cracks was his only outlet to earn your trust; after all, it was paramount for survival.

“I – I wasn’t going to hurt you,” exasperated breaths pushed from his throat. “I just needed, well.. blood.”

Basked in the dim firelight, your wary gaze studied him for what he really was: a vampire, a slave to sanguine hunger. He caught the stutter in your furrowed brows before they eased. Smug delight settled in his nerves when you, although with apprehension, allowed him to taste you.

Astarion eagerly obliged, immediately losing himself in the euphoria– the sweet vigor of your blood, how silky and rich. A low hum vibrated in his throat, and he barely registered when your palms pushed his broad weight off of you. Lush satisfaction that quenched his blood-thirst still coursed through him like a stimulant, but he still caught the tail-end of your groan.

“I don’t care that you’re a vampire. Just –,” you paused briefly to reel from your daze. “We’re all a team now, so I have to have some trust in you. Just ask next time.”

He felt happy, more alive – not only from the fresh blood still lingering on his tongue, but that you trusted him. Maybe not entirely, but the anchor had already been dropped; one step closer to wrapping you around his finger, even if you weren’t entirely flexible. He could feel it in your gaze, in the little quivers that rolled through you while his fangs sunk into your soft skin.

Once you had returned to sleep and his frenzied nerves quelled, he mulled over your parting words. You weren’t phased’ that he was a vampire, instead placing emphasis on trust. You were full of surprises – especially when the entire world met him with repulse.

Something that had been fossilized inside him tremored, as if it began to thaw. ==

There was a thin chill in the evening air, in the way nature prepares for a new season. And he hated you.

Well, he didn’t hate you – frankly, he couldn’t get enough of you; that was the issue.

You plagued his thoughts like a helpless addiction, better yet like a mirror; one he had repeatedly peered into, struggling to find the right angle and when he did – he was left staring at you.

Those careful eyes – a mocking reminder of everything he could have been. So different, so resilient, so disgustingly kind.

Since the day he laid eyes on you, he was the first to glimpse at your secret hidden in plain sight. Your habit of hiding yourself from everyone you came across, retreating behind stone-bared walls and tailoring a facade just enough to avoid drawing attention. Reserved lips were a mere confirmation you sealed away a vault of grief that you didn’t want – or need – clumsy, temporary hands to pry open.

That discreet resolve particularly made you the sour dagger twisting between his ribs. Grief had been your companion as well, but its mark never trickled from anywhere else – not a warbled voice or frustrated bout. It was only noticeable through a fleeting glint in your eyes. Meanwhile, he had made this medley of rage and anguish his armor. It had fused to skin, and he no longer knew how to scrape it off. Astarion dedicated decades to cursing the Gods. You ignored them.

He knew he should despise you and eagerly await the day he could shatter this mirror you were – but all bitterness dissolved in your presence. You had become his wonderfully terrible affliction; withdrawals could damn near kill him if they were to happen.

Ribbons unraveled from his chest with each conversation, whether it pertained to the graveness of the journey or a simple ‘good morning’ from your lips. Strange yet blissful, he could feel himself surrendering every bitter pang for the peculiar sensation of… comfort .

Once laced with such harshness, his mind eased with familiarity. An interesting chord of harmony, he thought, the two of you. From the start of the journey until now, you shared an enriching balance. He would encourage you to be more outspoken, while you stirred him to be authentic and soft – even if you weren’t aware.

You were stable like bedrock; never once expecting to be selfless or pious, instead only demanded transparency – at least to the extent he was willing to concede. Aside from the occasional brow-raise or retort, judgment never twisted your face. Respect was a new sensation to him, as you gave him yours.

This dynamic, this balance ; it was irresistibly and invariably warm.

The rendezvous sort of just fell into habit.

Every night he would savor the ambrosia from your neck, and one evening tension gave way to carnal desire. Whether it was a simple cathartic release or not, he didn’t care; tender moments bathed in amber firelight or the hush of the night had always left him craving more.

“You’re such a tease .”

You’d whisper those words every so often those sacred nights, and a rakish grin would slide across his face without fail. Lust gripped him, but never once weaved with routine; the way your legs parted to invite him in left Astarion with an insatiable urge to indulge in everything you were willing to give him. He could spend the entire evening with his head between your thighs, cold hands steadying your quivering legs as his tongue lured you to new heights of pleasure – giving you exactly what you needed.

When he was with you – skin pressed together, desperate hums like honey – he began to relish in taking things slow.

He preferred the nights where your bare body writhed beneath him and melted against his, while he eagerly coaxed wispy whines from your lips. No matter how wet and ready you were, his girth always met resistance as he parted your warm, sensitive walls. Your skin buzzed at the sensation of his cock splitting you open, like every time was the first you’ve been touched.

Desire laced every word he whispered into the curve of your neck, each encouraging and soft. His pace was slow, pushing into the depth of your core, buried deep enough to kiss your cervix with each thrust. Low, guttural grunts left his throat as your body’s natural instinct clenched around his throbbing cock.

Despite his centuries of experience, he found himself struggling to restrain from succumbing to the all-consuming euphoria of it all: your lashes wet from your tears, precious gasps warm against his skin, the desirous ache to fuck you the way that pretty face beckoned to be fucked.

The unbridled intimacy – which felt so real and tender was enough to send him over the edge. His veins hummed with yearning as he drank in the vision beneath him; your skin flushed, shaky whines that sung his name as he pushed you to pleasure. And when you wrapped your legs to press him deeper – he surrendered to the white-hot bliss.

Although Astarion would never tell a soul, his most treasured moments were spent after desperate breaths calmed and the entire world stilled.

It was never long before you lulled into sleep, and your weight slacked against his broad chest. He lingered over each detail with softer eyes; the gentle curl of your lashes, a freckle he had missed the last time. Peace graced such beautiful features, ones that were usually still with resolve. There had never been another face quite like yours in the two centuries he had lurked amongst the earth.

Your chest rose and fell slowly before you would eventually fidget, still deep in slumber, to slink an arm over his waist. His gentle hand grasped the one that rested against his chest, careful not to stir you, as he ran his fingers over your silk skin. Such delicate hands, he mused, that had to grapple their way through life.

He pressed a silent kiss against the back of your palm before laying it back on his chest.

In the silence, something washed over him – that rousing feeling that he never knew quite what to make of.

His eyes swept once more to watch the shuffle of your face, buried now against his side. Your hazy sighs warmed his bare skin. Astarion could almost laugh, imagining your face reddening if he ever shared how affectionate you were in your sleep.

Though he would never tell you – it was his little secret, one he hid away just for himself.

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mondaymelon · 5 months

Note

OMGGG what about the tall genshin men reacting when u suddenly distance urself from them, but they dont know its bc of something they said? feel free to edit n modify this as much as ud like :3

₊˚ෆ "𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄…" | diluc, childe, kaveh x gn!reader

art by @/kongqingkoqi on twitter! (not too sure on who you meant by tall characters, so i just chose a couple males with the tall model~ thank you for your request!)

— cw: angst + comfort ? injury (diluc), ngl reader is kinda a bitch in childe's but it was the only way i thought up of of making the situation work so. lmao. cries

[ Perhaps it was the winter cold that had bit him so, or perhaps it was merely a gloom that had briefly descended upon him. Either way, an unfortunate slip of the tongue has wounded you, yet they themselves remain unaware. ]

"Love?"

DILUC's eyes are round with worry, and his concerned gaze sweeps over you - from your crestfallen form, and then to your eyes that shy away from his. Ever since he had returned to the estate after being out of business since morning, you've been avoiding him, not wishing to speak a single word to his self and not even bothering to spare him a fleeting glance.

At first, it was bearable. Perhaps you just had had a long day and wanted some alone time, no? It was always a possibility, that is, until he saw your smiling self as you busied yourself in chatting away with the maids, and most importantly, that brother of his.

What had he done to warrant such treatment? You loved him, that he was sure of. Otherwise, you would've rejected him, wouldn't you? You wouldn't have let him take your hand and bring it to his lips ever so slowly, pressing a kiss into your knuckles?

"Love, I... I'm sorry. Please, tell me what I did wrong." His voice contains a shred of his desperation, and his crimson eyes only hold you in their gaze. You, who had broken past his carefully crafted walls and rekindled the flame that had long since been extinguished within his heart. "If it's something I did, if it's something I said-"

“Diluc, you…” Your quiet voice ebbs to silence as your eyes glance away, landing on everything except for the red-haired man before you, whose broad shoulders give the slightest tremor. The darkness in your expression, the displayed hurt… Ah.

Diluc’s weary mind raced, recollecting the hasty conversation from this morning, when dawn had yet to break and he had arrived home, coat blazing, skin littered in bruises and still-bleeding cuts. You had rushed out of your bedroom, still in your night garments, panicking over the wounds that covered his body and the red that blackened his already dark clothes. In a strained voice, eyes wide and frantic, you had called for the maids, only for Diluc to forcibly shush you, steadying himself on shaky legs.

“Love, what happened, what were you doing and how did-??”

“It doesn’t concern you.” His tone is low, tired. “Stay out of this, you won’t be able to offer any assistance anyhow.”

Begrudgingly, the man recalled his absolute exhaustion, having just returned after a bloody night of battling monsters, muscles sore and crying for relief. There was no need for your concern, his cuts would mend and his wounds would heal. Yet he hadn’t meant for his words to come out so harsh, for his tongue to pierce you in the way it had.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't in my right mind when I said that- I just... I just didn't want you to be hurt also... If I'm injured, those wounds will fade with time, but I.."

His words trail off, replaced with your silence - a voiceless agreement, one that Diluc takes as an answer. Holding both your hands in his gloved ones, it's somehow easy to feel his fiery warmth despite his cold demeanor. Cold... was it really so? The male's eyes shone, and then you were in his arms, tightly intertwined.

"..I don't know what I would do if harm were to befell you, love..."₊˚ෆ

"Love!"

CHILDE's playful smile fades at its corners as you walk past him, the way you're failing to even acknowledge his presence painfully apparent. "Hah... what's with you today?" Another absence of a response. You dash your way out of his sight, and he's left alone in the dark living room, a half-smile still on his features. The fuck?

Okay, maybe it was just one of those days. There had been several since the start of the relationship, and the harbinger offered his utmost understanding. Sometimes people just felt like shit, and didn't feel like doing shit, and he could understand that to some extent.

There, mystery solved, yeah? Ah, but just one problem, how come you had been completely fine just an hour before? He had the day off, and so did you, so there was a mutual agreement to just stay home and laze about in one another's presence - yet it was only nearing lunchtime and you had already given him the cold shoulder? For what..? You hadn't even gone outside or did anything today-

Oh. Then he had to have been the problem. He raps his knuckles on your bedroom door, but it's really his bedroom too, and is bold enough to poke his head through the frame without waiting for your confirmation, a hesitant grin decorating his lips. "Love, I'm sorry- for ah... whatever you disliked...?"

You're sat at your desk, weariness evident in your darkened eyes. "Childe, do you find me someone who needs to be protected?"

He blinks. "...What?"

"Childe, do you really just want to spend the entire day lying around?" Snapping your fingers, your eyes lit up with sparkles. "We should go to a cafe or something for lunch, maybe, and then-"

"Why through go all the effort? We're staying home because I thought you wanted to, aren't we?"

"Not to that extent Childe... if you were with friends, what would you be doing? Not sitting on the couch all day, I hope?" A sheepish smile crossed your face.

"Hmm.. friends... I suppose we'd duel...?"

"Then-"

"Nope, no way am I dueling with you, you're way too weak, love, that's why I gotta protect you, hm?"

He immediately shakes his head at your words, almost frantic. "W- No, I didn't mean it in that way, love. You're capable, it's just that... Well- you don't have a vision, or a weapon, or-"

"Childe." Not your usual 'love', a bright smile on your lips, and he flinches just the slightest at the sight. "We're in a relationship. I don't want to be in a give all take all relation, you know? I.. I want to be independent, I want you to rely on me sometimes too... I just feel like sometimes I'm just such a burden to you and-"

"A burden?" His eyes widen, features instantly shadowing with disbelief at your words.

You, a burden? Such a thing couldn't possibly be. The warmth that you had granted him, the delicate arms that had held him in its hold, the lips that had whispered such affections and pressed kisses on his skin-

"No, love. You are not a burden, not when you are someone who makes life worth living." ₊˚ෆ

"Love...?"

KAVEH's in instant full blown panic mode, the dark bags under his eyes especially evident with how wide they've grown. "H-Hey, are you okay?" Of course, something wasn't okay - otherwise, why would you be ignoring him like this? But his sleepless mind has grown frantic, and he's desperate for relief. His hand latches onto yours before you can disappear into another room, holding onto your wrist loosely enough to not seem forceful. "Ah..."

He'd moved without thinking, almost as if on instinct, and now that you had glanced back with something colder in your gaze, that same urge told him not to let go. "I, I'm sorry!" For what exactly, he wouldn't even be able to tell a soul, yet the words seemed to have done the trick, as your feet pause in the middle of a step away from him, hesitance clear in your expression.

"For what, Kaveh?"

Shit, he's fucked. This was it, all the all nighters and hours of laborious planning and calculations had led to this one moment... His mind was spurred into action as his mouth sputtered useless stutters and... oh, could it be?

"Kaveh, you should go to sleep, it's already so late, and you haven't gotten a good rest in days, love..." Your concerned tone rang clearly in his ears, but he shook the words away, his disheveled form only focusing on the work before him, the endless tasks he had yet to complete.

"No, I... I can't. Love, could you brew me a cup of coffee, the extra strong kind? Thank you..." He gave his sleepy eyes a rub, completely missing the look that had flitted across your face in that moment.

Your sigh invades his flashbacks, and you look completely done with him, brows furrowed a fraction and lips drawn into a thin line. "Kaveh, please, for the love of the archons, take some better care of yourself."

"...Ah?"

Suddenly, your tone had shifted in the span of a half second, and instead of the angry gaze he had expected, it was more so... scolding. Concern. "Close that jaw of yours, Kaveh, how come you look so surprised? I've told you this time and time again, you need rest!"

An accusing finger was pointed in his direction, the bearer someone he was certainly very familiar with. "Well, it's a big project, I have to finish it by next week and there's barely any time, so I need to-"

"-And how can you possibly plan on functioning if you haven't gotten any sleep?"

Curses, a valid argument. Kaveh slowly held up his empty hands in defeat, chuckling sheepishly. So this was about him, and not you? Thank the archons, for a second he had thought he had messed up big time-

"That look of yours, you better not be thinking what I think you're thinking! And, besides..." You glanced at the ground, as if suddenly reluctant to speak another word. "I was waiting for you so we could sleep together..."

...An angel? Was that who was before him?

"I-I'm sorry... I promise I'll take better care of myself and... you won't have to wait for me, tonight. I'll turn in early, love." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) not all that proud of this one. but here. sigh

reblogs are veryyyy appreciated!! if you liked this fic, please consider following, as im super close to a follower goal id love to hit before new years! thank you.

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cosmicanakin · 2 months

Text

Picking Up The Pieces.

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

Pairing. Dean Winchester x Female Reader.

Outline. A heated argument with Dean leads to a vulnerable confession of your long-held feelings.

Word Count. 1546.

Warning(s). Angst, Arguments, Implied Sexual Tension, Mild Language, Season 1 Dean, Mature Themes (nothing too explicit).

Authors Note. back with a new fic whaaaat?! i recently started rewatching supernatural to mend my broken heart after the season 15 finale… they deserved so much better & just thinking about it pisses me tf off. anyway i was listening to stairway to heaven for hours on end while writing this (that song is my childhood.) enjoooooy!

You stared out the window of the Impala, watching the roads and scenery fly by as Led Zeppelin played softly in the background. The familiar rumble of the engine and the comfort of the leather seats usually provided a sense of peace, but today all you could feel was tension.

You and Dean had gotten into a nasty argument earlier, one that had been brewing for a while now. It was about his careless flirtation with other women, even when you two weren’t officially exclusive. You couldn’t help the feelings you had harbored for him over the years, feelings that only seemed to grow stronger the more time you spent together on the road. And it hurt to see him so freely give his attention and affection to anyone but you.

You tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the music and the drive. But it was impossible to ignore the way Dean kept stealing glances in your direction, the way his hand would occasionally graze your thigh in a move that had become comfortable and familiar between the two of you. Each subtle touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, a painful reminder of what you couldn’t have.

As the familiar chords of the song played on, you closed your eyes and tried to will yourself to sleep, to escape this tense situation, even if just for a little while. But just as you felt yourself starting to drift off, Dean’s hand suddenly landed firmly on your inner thigh, sending your eyes flying open as your heart raced.

Without a word, Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the road, putting the car in park before turning to face you. The intensity in his green eyes made your breath catch in your throat, and you found yourself unable to look away.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice low and serious.

You swallowed hard, every fiber of your being telling you to run, to avoid this conversation at all costs. But you knew it was inevitable, that the tension between the two of you had been building for too long to ignore any longer.

“Okay,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dean studied you for a moment, his gaze searching your face for something you couldn’t quite decipher. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his short, spiky hair.

“Look, I know things have been...tense between us lately,” he began, his eyes never leaving yours. “And I know a lot of that is my fault.”

You opened your mouth to interrupt, to argue that it was his fault, that his reckless flirting had hurt you more than you cared to admit. But he held up a hand, silencing you.

“Please, just let me say this,” he pleaded. “I’m not good at this whole...feelings thing. You know that. But I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened earlier, and I...” He paused, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the right words.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice sincere. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear. It’s just...old habits die hard, you know? And I...” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands, which were fidgeting nervously in his lap. “I guess I was...afraid.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at his confession, and you couldn’t help but lean forward slightly, your curiosity piqued.

“Afraid of what, Dean?” you asked softly.

He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Afraid of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Afraid of...of letting myself feel something real, something that could actually last.”

Your heart ached at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice cutting you deeper than any of his careless flirtations ever could. You knew, deep down, that Dean had been through more than his fair share of pain and loss in his life, and the thought of him being afraid to open himself up to you only made you love him more.

“Dean...” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I...I had no idea.”

He looked up then, his green eyes meeting yours, and you were struck by the raw emotion you saw there. “I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s my fault. I...I’ve been pushing you away, because I’m scared of what this could be. Of what we could be.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, hope and fear warring within you. “What are you saying, Dean?”you asked, fiddling with your thumbs.

He reached out then, his calloused hand coming to rest on your thigh again, his thumb brushing against it in a gentle caress. “I’m saying that...I care about you, more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I’m tired of pretending that I don’t.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, your eyes flooding with tears as the weight of his words settled over you. “Dean, I...I care about you, too. So much,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

A small, tentative smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he reached up to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek. “I know,” he murmured. “And that’s what scares me the most.”

You nodded, understanding dawning on you. “Because you’re afraid of losing me, too,” you said softly.

He nodded, his hand moving to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I’ve already lost so much in my life, Y/N. I don’t think I could handle losing you, too.”

You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth and comfort of his hand on your skin. “You won't lose me, Dean,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He studied your face for a long moment, his green eyes boring into yours, before slowly leaning in. Your heart raced as his lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, before deepening into a passionate kiss.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other. “I love you, Y/N,” Dean murmured, his voice barely audible but you heard him clear as day.

“I love you, too, Dean,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in the short strands of his hair.

For a long moment, the two of you simply sat there, lost in each other’s embrace, the tension and pain of earlier melting away. But then, a thought occurred to you, and you pulled back slightly, your brow furrowing.

“What about Sam?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern. “I mean, we’re on our way to pick him up from Stanford, and I don’t want him to feel...I don’t know, awkward or anything.”

Dean chuckled softly, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Don’t worry about Sammy,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “He’s been rooting for us to get our heads out of our asses for years.”

You couldn't help but laugh at that, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to ease. “I should have known,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.

Dean grinned, pulling you in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless again, your hearts racing.

“So, what does this mean for us?” you asked, your voice soft and uncertain.

Dean's expression turned serious, his hand moving to intertwine with yours. “It means that I’m all in, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “No more flirting with other women, no more pushing you away. I want this, us, more than anything.”

You felt your heart swell with emotion, tears of joy threatening to spill over. “Me too, Dean,” you whispered, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m in, too.”

He smiled then, a genuine, warm smile that lit up his entire face, and you couldn't help but lean in and kiss him again, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his body against yours.

As you pulled apart, Dean’s expression turned mischievous once more. “So, what do you say we give Sammy another day and find us a nice, secluded spot to...celebrate?" he asked wiggling his brows, a hint of suggestiveness in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you were hearing, playfully swatting his arm. “Dean Winchester, you are such a hornball,” you teased.

He grinned, his grip on your hand tightening. “Maybe so, but you love me anyway,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that made your heart flutter.

“That I do,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him once more.

As the Impala rumbled back to life and Dean guided the car back onto the open road, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. The tension and hurt of earlier had been replaced by a deep, abiding love and trust, and you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Dean would face them together.

You nestled closer to Dean as he drove, your hand still intertwined with his, and Stairway to Heaven filling the air, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in the feeling of pure, unadulterated happiness.

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pierregazly · 9 months

Text

to live for the hope of it all (part 2) ꨄ charles leclerc smau

charles leclerc x fem!reader / mick schumacher x fem!reader

pic credits: pinterest

link to part 1 | link to part 3

all the love on part 1 was so sweet i just had to get started on part 2 as soon as possible. originally this was only going to be a charles x reader but i like drama and i like mick sooo... it also may seem obvious about what's gonna happen but i have no self control and this is prob gonna be a multi-part xoxo

mercedesamgf1

tagged georgerussell63 and lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, lewishamilton, and 2,683,222 others

mercedesamgf1 no one tell toto why we needed both his drivers for individual photoshoots... it had absolutely nothing to do with their hands... nothing at all

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username ur telling me yourusername takes over and all of a sudden we're getting this kind of content??? stay with us forever y/n pls

lewishamilton i thought you were taking pictures of my tattoos...

mercedesamgf1 i see tattoos, do you not, sir lewis? lewishamilton please stop calling me sir lewis every time you acknowledge me

mickschumacher im telling toto because i wasn't included in the photoshoot

mercedesamgf1 next post is an admin loves mick post i promise 🙏

mickschumacher

liked by yourusername, roscoelovescoco, mercedesamgf1 and 785,450 others

mickschumacher special thanks to yourusername for always getting my best angles

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yourusername we've discussed this. you don't have bad angles.

username mick is so golden retriever boyfriend-coded, i ship him and y/n so hard

username hoping you get a real seat in 2024, even if it's not for mercedes 🙏

roscoelovescoco missing's ya mick's

liked by yourusername

yourusername

tagged mercedesamgf1

liked by arthur_leclerc, pierregasly, mickschumacher and 360,420 others

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yourusername oh monza my heart and soul... honoured to be spending a gp from the other side of things for once

arthur_leclerc red always fit you better... broke my heart with this post y/n 💔 yourusername mercedes spoils me too much to give them up

username did anyone realize charles and y/n had unfollowed each other??

username im so sad... i really thought they'd get together by monza username we all delulu around here

mickschumacher knew it was gonna be more fun having you hang around the garage with me

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc, yourusername and 1,340,592 others

charles_leclerc monza is special thanks to you. thank you all for coming to milan today, you are the best.

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username 🇮🇹❤️

username mother in the likes??? they still dont follow each other omf

yourusername race your heart out charlie

liked by charles_leclerc and 5,665 others

username omg omg omg

username mother is mothering pls get back together (even platonically pls)

f1wagsofficial

liked by username, username, username and 95,691 others

f1wagsofficial rumour has it charles_leclerc and yourusername were seen talking earlier today in the paddock... apparently charles sought her out and one of my dm's said they swore they heard the ferrari driver apologizing profusely... guess that means things are on the mend?

username im sure whatever the fight was about isn't worth tossing out a 22 yr friendship anyways lol

username none of us have any right commenting on this lol

username does this mean y/n and mick ARENT gonna be a thing??? cuz girlypop looked so happy every time she was with him...

username they were also totally snuggling up to each other in some of those photos ppl were posting on twitter like...

yourusername has posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, mickschumacher, pierregasly, and 2,698 others

taglist

@needtokeepfeelingsincheck @sassyheroneckgiant @sillyfreakfanparty @leclercdream @allywthsr @bladestark @adoxra

(please feel free to reach out if you'd like to be tagged for any/all of my works. i apologize if the tag didn't work, some usernames it wasn't working for!)

#charles leclerc x reader #mick schumacher x reader #charles leclerc x you #mick schumacher x you #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #mick schumacher #charles leclerc #f1 #smau #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #charles leclerc smau #mick schumacher smau #f1 smau

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mechaknight-98 · 1 month

Text

Unforgiven at Lotus Junction (NSFW) Ft Chaewon

Author's Note: Cowgirl Chaewon…cowgirl Chaewon

A young man awakens with his left eye bandaged among other dressings. Fragments and flashes of memory course through his mind as he tries to orient himself, sitting up abruptly. The attending doctor notices him squirming and rushes back in.

“Sit down, don't squirm too much, or those stitches won't heal properly,” the doctor responds, and the young man complies as she finishes her work. He looks at her; she is a young woman with flawless skin and a focused demeanor. She returns his gaze with a bright smile, proud of her handiwork.

“There you go, all patched up,” she says as she tidies her tools. Turning back to him, she eyes him warily as he rises again, patting himself as if searching for something. In the young man’s mind, echoes of the ether call to him: “War, victory, win, murder, kill,” repeating in a haunting whisper. The doctor observes the young man, noting the asymmetric runes glowing on his arms. She has encountered magic before, but nothing as raw and untamed as this. It unsettles her.

“What are you looking for?” she asks suspiciously, calmly reaching for her nearby rifle.

“My tools and weapons,” the young man replies, trying to focus amidst the pain and the inexorable surge of fury flooding his thoughts. The doctor watches as he takes a few steps before collapsing once more.

“Oh, no!” she exclaims. The young man rises slowly before she can assist him.

“Easy there, partner. I don't think you're ready for that much physical activity,” the doctor cautions. He breathes heavily, attempting to steady himself and suppress the pain, but it proves challenging. The doctor meets his gaze, awestruck as his body begins to miraculously mend itself.

“How?” she asks as his brown eyes shift to a deep, eldritch green.

“Long story,” he replies.

The doctor narrows her eyes in annoyance. “Well, excuse me. Do you have somewhere to be?” she quips. He looks around and then sighs before answering, “No.”

“Good. Then tell me your story because all I know is that a tornado threw you to me,” she teases. He chuckles as his eyes revert to their brown hue.

“Okay,” he agrees, getting up. He staggers, and the doctor steadies him.

“Ugh, you're so heavy,” she jokes.

He looks down at her, and for the first time, the ether’s calling changes:

“Protect, Preserve, Endure, Revel,” chanted at intervals until his mind fell silent."Wait, tell me your name!" the doctor replied.

"What?" the young man scoffed, and the doctor rolled her eyes.

The doctor huffed. "Your name, what is it? I need to refer to you as something."

The young man looked at the doctor, confused. "I don't have one."

"So, what do people call you when they refer to you?" the doctor asked.

"They don't," the young man replied, his voice dipped in venomous rage.

The doctor sensed the sorrow and anger emanating from the young man, then smiled before saying, “Well then, I'll give you a name. From now on, I'll call you… Roland the Rebel."

The young man tried to hide his smile but couldn't. He finally had something that was his, something personal. "Roland the Rebel. I like it. I am keeping this," Roland said.

The doctor smiled. "Chaewon, nice to meet you, Roland," she said as she shook Roland’s hand.

Roland smiled and replied, “Nice to meet you, Chaewon.”

4 years later

The rebel walked into the home he shared with the doctor. He shook off the dust after riding back home from a long and arduous day working as a ranch hand for the nearby rancher. The Rebel was excited to

“Hey Puppy I'm home.” the rebel said as he opened the door to their shared abode. He took his bandana off and took two steps in. When he realized she wasn't in. he moved around their shared home and then decided to check the

He walked into seeing The doctor caring for a young boy who was recently feeling under the weather. He had a simple cold which meant she would have to give him one of her remedies. The doctor heard the door open and turned to see her “roommate” waving at her. She turned and smiled

“Hey Roly how was the ranch?” she asked curious

“Oh, you know same old same old. Mrs. Ware is still flirting with me but she knows I only have one love.” the rebel replies. The Doctor laughs as she finishes up with the boy named Thomas’ medicine. She hands it to Thomas who nods then goes over to the Rebel.

“Um excuse me, Mr Roland Sir can you take me home?” Thomas asks innocently.

The rebel turns to The doctor who nods and responds, “Yes! Please do! His mom made us pies and buns for us.” the doctor said excitedly. The rebel smiles in agreement Mrs. Hernandez (Thomas's mother) adores baking almost as much as she loves her husband (father Gabriel the priest of the town) and so she is sinfully good at it. So any chance to snag some of them is a chance well spent. So Roland puts on his gloves and his bandanna and gestures for Thomas to follow him.

As he walks out Chaewon takes off all of her Doctors gear and washes her hands. After she does so she blows Roland a kiss before saying, “Get back home safely Roly.”Roland nods as he leads young Thomas outside to his mount. When the two get on Roland’s mount Thomas asks about the weird “red things” in front of the clinic as they begin their journey.

“Oh, you don't need to worry about those. Just relics of a past time.” Roland answers

“Okay” Thomas replied and the two began their ride. For the most part, it was silent. Although Roland was well-liked in the town and considered as insensible as Chaewon due to his handiness and willingness to help anyone; the town was still wary of him. Arriving with no name out of a tornado is still arriving with no name out of a tornado. He was also spurned by the fact that he was an adrift. So all suspicions were considered admissions of guilt. However, the youngsters didn't see it that way. They just saw Roland as the friendly old guy who helped their parents and was living with the town doctor. So they were always more open to him, not by much though. Roland despite his openness tended to be reserved and very cagey with his answers especially about his past. He was a gentleman but had firm boundaries regardless.

"Hey, Mr. Roland. Are you going to marry Mrs. Chaewon?"

Roland turned to the young boy, surprised but smiling. "I'd like to. I am working hard to get her a ring. I just can't afford one right now, but I'm 9/10 of the way there," Roland explained. Thomas nodded then chuckled.

"She likes you," Thomas said. "While she was patching me up, she was frustrated that you weren't here helping."

"Oh really?" Roland asked.

"Yeah, she said how you're always within arm's reach and can help her get exactly what she needs. She is appreciative that you’re doing more, but she says she misses you during the day," Little Thomas said. Roland smiled, and then Thomas asked the million-dollar question.

"Hey, Mr. Roland. Why is your skin purple?"

Roland looked at the child and then said, "Well, my skin contains more of the chemical Antenalin. It's the reason why your school teacher’s skin is also pink."

"Oh, that’s why Mrs. Merryweather’s looks so sparkly?" Thomas asked, and Roland nodded. Thomas smiled and then said, “I am going to tell her when I get back to school." Roland smiled at the young boy before arriving at his home. The priest Gabriel was standing outside the door. Thomas giddily ran to his dad who lifted him.

“Dad, dad guess what Mr. Roland taught me?"

"What is it, son? (He eyes Roland) it better not have been curse words," he admonished.

"No, Dad, he taught me the reason his skin is purple."

Gabriel was taken aback by his son’s candid and excited response. "Oh, okay. What did he say?"

“He said it was a chemical called Antenalin," Thomas said with a smile.

Gabriel smiled and set Thomas down before sending him in with his mom. He faced Roland and chuckled.

“You know, for a simple ranch hand, you know quite a lot,” Gabriel said to Roland.

Roland shrugged as he responded, “Well, my parents told me knowledge is power, so I took it to heart when I had ‘higher ambitions,’ but now I’m happy I’m at peace.” As he finished, he dusted himself off before following Gabriel into his home.

Gabriel noticed Roland’s gait and affectation. “You look it. I remember when Chaewon and you first arrived together. I could see your emotions as if they were etched on your skin,” Gabriel said.

Feeling relaxed, Roland laughed before revealing, “I mean, technically they are.”

Gabriel’s eyes almost popped out at hearing that. “Wait? But that would make you a...” Gabriel responded, and Roland nodded.

“I was that, but I put that behind me, and hopefully it stays there,” Roland addressed.

Gabriel, still reeling from the revelation, said, “No wonder you know so much.” Gabriel smiled and hugged Roland. A gesture that, while appreciated in sentiment, always made Roland uncomfortable. After Mrs. Hernandez walked in and said, “Hey, Roly, I got food for you and your darling Chaewon.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hernandez.”

“Oh, always so polite. You know, to call me Izzy, Roland.” Roland apologized and graciously took the food. After that, Roland headed back to his new 'home.' When he arrived, Chaewon smiled upon seeing the food in his sack.

"Did she make the rolls?" Chaewon asked impatiently. Roland nodded and handed her one. Chaewon greedily scarfed it down and looked back at Roland with content and happy eyes. Roland smiles as he unpacks everything and has dinner with your favorite Doctor.

During the meal, Chaewon looks at Roland longingly. Roland catches glimpses of this and remembers what Thomas said. Roland looks at her and smiles graciously.

"Something the matter Chae," Roland asks hiding his knowledge.

Chaewon responds with an adorable pout, "Yeah you weren't here today. I couldn't cuddle you or use you to fetch me things,"

Roland squints hiding his intent he asks, "But Chae I thought you wanted me to help around with the bills?"

Chaewon squints back as she says, "I thought I did, but I'd much rather have my big burly nurse around."

"Okay. Well lucky for you I will be available tomorrow as Rancher Isiah is busy tomorrow," Roland Explains.

"Oh really? well, then how about we enjoy each other's company tonight," Chaewon suggests. Her implication sends a violent shiver through Roland's back. Chaewon finished her dinner and moved on to her favorite dessert Roland. Before Roland could take a breath Chaewon was already at his crotch unbuckling his pants. She smiled when his cock sprang free. Knowing all of Roland’s weak spots she blew a cold breath on his surging rod. She watched with erotic euphoria as he squirmed under.

“Come on Darling. You're this hard and I haven't even touched you yet,” Chaewon sticks her tongue out and wraps it around the tip and head of Roland’s cock. Roland groans as he spreads his legs further allowing Chaewon to explore his cock with her tongue. Precum begins to build at his tip.

Her grand finale of getting him ready for her. She wrapped her tongue around the tip before diving into his slit and lapping up his precum with an intense fervor that only separation could provide. Rolan groans as Chaewon engorged herself. He watched as she began to gag on his rod. Chaewon felt her arousal rising with each passing moment. It built making her light-headed as she stopped long enough to get oxygen to breathe before going back. She knew she had to stop herself otherwise she wouldn't be able to due to her love for Roland’s cock being down her throat. "Fuck Chae, How do you take me so well," Rolan questioned.

Chaewon knew Roland was ready for her when his eyes shifted to an intense crimson. He gets up and lifts the petite doctor to the table. She smiles knowing he is about to give her everything she's been wanting. As Roland urgently strips her Chaewon moans into his ear before nibbling on his cartilage. “Please be wild with me,” Roland nods as he pierces Chaewon. She moans uncontrollably as her pussy reflexively welcomes its favorite resident with a tight hug. He began to thrust as Chaewon enticed him to be rougher with her. She wasn't fragile after all. As Roland pumped in and out of Chaewon she brought herself up to kiss him. In between the fervent kisses she would moan.

"Ah fuck me. Fuck me harder Rebel." Hoping to satisfy her ventripotent lust for the adrift, and to his credit, Rolan would always try his hardest. As he fucked with more vigor Chaewon moaned harder as she neared her high. Roland smiled at his paramour as her moans filled their little love nest. when her eyes rolled back into her head he knew she was close.

"Cum for me Chae," Roland said and Chaewon obliged her lover. Her body tensed before her orgasm sent her spiraling into intense spasms and sensitivities. As she tried to calm herself through her high she watched helplessly as Roland kept fucking her.

"Yes, Yes, Yes Chaewon moaned as she flexed and tensed hoping to coax Roland to cum. before she could however she saw her seraph sheriff badge glow. She immediately pushed Roland off her and got serious.

"Wait Chae is everything okay," Roland asked.

Chaewon turned to her lover and nodded sweetly, "Yes I just have some business to take care of." she said. Roland nodded and said

"Well, then I am coming with you,"

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #le sserafim fanfic #lesserafim smut #le sserafim chaewon #chaewon smut

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galacticgraffiti · 8 months

Text

⋆☾⋆ Big Love Ahead ⋆☽⋆

!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!

Summary: Halsin rescues you after you get hurt in a fight, and you get to spend some time with him during the spring and summer months as he nurses you back to health. And maybe, you start to wonder what it would be like if his hands touched you for different reasons than just to heal you…

Rating: Mature/Explicit (for horny nudity not smut) Wordcount: 4.5k Descriptors: The first two chapters are fairly genderneutral. Reader's physique is not really described aside from being quite a bit shorter and smaller than Halsin. CW: Fluff, softness, (physical) hurt/comfort, being nursed back to health by Halsin, pet names, this is achingly sweet, flirting, banter, oblivious pining, rated explicit for the eventual smut in chapters to come

✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦

⋆༻༺⋆༺༻⋆••●••⋆༺༻⋆༻༺ ⋆

Chapter 1: The Druid

He is the one who finds you.

Heavy footsteps make the earth vibrate beneath you, then soft fur presses against your bloodied cheek. You let it happen only because you can’t escape. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, if you are honest with yourself, and you are quite sure this is just a dream.

Surely, it must be a dream, right? To be lifted, not by paws but big, strong hands, to be carried out of that violent grove that nearly became your grave. To be placed upon the softest thing you have ever felt, and to see skin turn into fur once more as he lays beside you. Surely, a dream.

You close your eyes, and you drift off.

*****

When you wake up, you are disoriented beyond all hells, and alone.

Your entire body aches, but when you look down, you see that all your wounds have been mended and wrapped in neat bandages. Some of them smell of forest and herbs, others of things you have no words for describing.

Sitting up makes your head spin, so you decide to close your eyes again. Just… for a moment.

*****

It’s night when you wake up, though once you think about it, you are not sure how you know. Was it this dark the last time you woke up? You think there was some light - you saw the bandages, you could see the shape of your body beneath the sheets… But now, there is just darkness, so black it scares you, heavy like a blanket made from a thousand deaths.

Your heart starts to race, and you feel yourself breaking out in sweats as you think about your lost friends - all of them laying bloodied and broken on the battlefield like dolls, with slit throats and arrows in their hearts.

You groan in pain when you sit up, and the edges of your vision start to blur.

“Careful, now.”

The voice startles you. It comes from the opposite end of whatever room you are in, too far away for you to reach out and touch, and even with all your squinting, you can’t see anyone. Your fingers grip the sheets tightly.

“Who are you? Why did you bring me here?” Your voice is scratchy and raw, and your throat burns from the dryness. You cough, doubling over as you try to inhale some air to fill your desperate lungs.

“Shh, don’t die on me now, little flower.”

The voice is much closer now, and out of habit, your hand slides down your thigh to where you usually keep your knife. It’s not there - of course it’s not, you are not wearing anything more than you’d need to guarantee the smallest amount of decency.

Panic rises in your chest, a sour taste coating your tongue.

“Who are you?” You repeat, out of breath from those few words.

“I saved you.” A flame is lit only a few feet away from you, and your eyes hurt from the sudden light. You squint, trying to get used to it. All you can see is the faint silhouette of a… man. A broad-backed man, taller than you have ever seen, with long hair and a gentle face. Pointed ears peek out from beneath soft curls, and you stare at him.

An elf? With this… frame? Who the hells is this guy?

He looks at you calmly, patiently waiting for your reaction.

“Saved me?” The question makes you cough again. A hand appears in front of your face, offering you a waterskin. You accept it without much hesitation - what choice do you have? If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now.

The water hurts as much as it helps - cool and fresh as it runs down your dry throat. You take a few careful sips and damn near end up coughing your lungs out again. The hand takes the water away from you gently.

“That’s enough for now. Slow down, or you’ll make yourself sick.” His voice speaks more of concern than command. You let go, pressing back into your little corner.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you say finally. “Who are you?”

The man steps back into the shadows, his back turned to you. He is scarred and marked in ways only people from the wilds ever are, and that calms you a little. He is not a soldier.

“Rest for now,” he says. “We will talk when you wake again.”

You want to object, but large, warm hands press you down into your soft bedding again and pull the blanket up over your shoulders. Your eyes flutter closed - you are tired, so tired still. Distantly, you wonder how much time has passed since the grove.

“Wait,” you whisper, your hand finding his larger one in the dark. Your fingers curl weakly.

“What is it? Something you need?” Once again, his only feeling seems to be concern.

You slowly shake your head and regret the motion immediately when you taste blood on your tongue.

“No, I don’t- just… thank you.”

He stills in your weak grasp. Moments pass, then finally, his voice comes again, sounding oddly sad.

“You are welcome, little one.”

*****

You find a rhythm after that, sleeping and waking. Sometimes he’s around, sometimes he is not. You realise that the supposed room you are in is little more than a cave decked out in some essentials.

After a few days, you finally learn his name: Halsin.

Halsin looks after you, and you don’t question why. He does not talk much, but the look on his face never makes you doubt that the only thing he wants is for you to get better.

You drink more water, and after a few days, Halsin finally allows you to eat: Stew, not much, fed to you by his large hand holding a spoon that seems much too small for him.

When the food stays down, Halsin allows you to eat more and more, and you get some of your strength back. Your body still hurts, but all your bones seem to be in the right place - though some are definitely still broken, as you discover when you try to lay on your side.

Some days after you first remember waking up, you manage to sit up all by yourself and your fingers can hold the spoon for the first time. Halsin watches you carefully, whittling away as you eat a bowl of stew. And another. And another.

“Someone was hungry,” he smiles.

“Hungry as a bear,” you grin. He furrows his brow. You swear his eyes seem golden, but it’s probably just the light of the fire. He stares into the darkness for a moment, then puts his knife to the side. Before you can ask him what is wrong, he is gone.

****

Halsin returns the next day, back to his usual self. You wouldn’t quite call it ‘chipper’, but none of the worry that graced his features yesterday seems to remain. You decide it is wisest not to ask about it. If there is something you need to talk about, he will tell you in time.

When Halsin tucks you into bed that night as has become his habit, you notice - not for the first time - how good he smells: Of fresh grass and summer rain, of wood and smoked leather. You become acutely aware that you yourself have not had a bath in quite some time.

“Halsin?” You bite your tongue, feeling awkward about asking.

“What is it?”

“Do you… well. I think I should take a bath.”

Halsin cocks his head. You can see the cogs in his head turning, behind his soft, round features. He crosses his arms, and your heart flutters at the sheer swell of his biceps. You shake your head to shoo the unwelcome thought away.

“Well. there is a stream close to the cave…” he says slowly.

You nod excitedly.

“Perfect! I can-”

“You are still very injured, little flower,” he interrupts you - not rudely, but firmly. “You can barely stand up, let alone walk all the way there. The stream is dangerous, and I do not want you injuring yourself-”

“Carry me, then,” you propose hastily, more in jest than anything else. A small smile tugs on the corners of Halsin’s eyes.

“You can’t stand on your own either, and only one of your arms has healed enough for you to wash yourself.” He quirks a brow. “Have you got a solution for that too, little one?”

“You can wash me,” you suggest, this time fully certain he will recognise the joke.

Halsin chuckles to himself and shakes his head.

“All that effort- for what? Your wounds are clean, and you are getting better every day. Have I not taken care of you? Is there something I missed? If you tell me-”

“You smell good,” you say before you can think about your words. Halsin’s eyes widen by the smallest fraction, but he stays quiet, so you drone on. “You smell like forest and fresh pine, and meanwhile, I have been wasting away in this cave for weeks now. I want to… I don’t know. I want to feel like less of a burden, I suppose. I want to feel like myself again.”

“Oh.” Halsin takes your hand, very gently, like a doctor calming his patient. It still makes your heart race. “You are not a burden. Taking care of you has been my privilege.”

“You’re sweet,” you whisper. Halsin lets go of you.

“Do you… do you think a bath would help you feel better?” he asks, his voice serious. “I know I don’t provide much entertainment-”

“I like it when you are around,” you admit quietly. “I like watching you whittle. Your presence calms me.”

At that, Halsin lets out a roaring laugh that takes you totally by surprise - so much so that you simply fall into laughing with him. You cannot grasp what he could be laughing about, but seeing him so happy - knowing you are the one who made him laugh - it makes your heart stumble.

“Fine,” Halsin says when he can breathe again. “Alright, little one, if a bath is what you want, a bath is what you shall get.”

*****

When he returns the next day, for the first time, you notice that you have no idea where he sleeps. He laughs the questions off as he looks over your various wounds and ailments.

These inspections have become a ritual that both excites and frightens you: It excites you because it means Halsin’s big hands on your body, stroking, nearly caressing, touching (almost) every inch of you. It frightens you because you are scared he will notice how much you like it. And it scares you to think that one day, there might not be anything for him to look at - and when your wounds are healed, where will you go?

You scoot to the front of your makeshift bed when Halsin asks you to, dangling your feet over the edge. When he kneels between your thighs to examine a particularly deep cut in your upper thigh, it takes all your strength not to cup his jaw and ask him to kiss you.

You daydream yourself away - dream of the way his hands look on you, of the way the light bounces off his irises and makes it seem like they are glowing. You dream of his lips and how soft they might be against yours, and you try to remember that feeling when he first found you - the softness of fur - might it have been his hair?

“Alright,” Halsin declares, interrupting your yearning thoughts.

“Alright?” you ask, looking down at him. He stands, suddenly towering over you. You swallow thickly.

“I think… it’s time for my little patient to have a bath.” He smiles and offers you his hand. You feel like you have been punched in the stomach when he calls you his patient. Is that all you are to him? Just some… girl he needs to heal? Someone he found and took responsibility for? Still, you take his hand and slide off the bed.

Your legs give in nearly the second they touch the ground, but Halsin’s strong arms are there to catch you. He lifts you like you weigh no more than a feather. His arms feel familiar, and comfortable, and like you could fall asleep in them forever and ever. You sigh happily and snuggle against his broad chest.

When you realise what you are doing, your eyes snap open, terrified of your own actions.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Halsin’s chest shakes against you.

“No need to apologise. I am happy you feel comfortable in my presence.”

“Mhhm.” You try to hide your face as best you can, lest he recognise the emotions that must be showing.

Halsin carries you carefully, stopping as you get closer to the light near the entrance of the cave.

“Close your eyes, little one. You haven’t been outside in quite a while, and the sun is bright today.”

You follow his instructions, pressing your eyes shut. The air smells fresh and sweet when he steps out of the cave, and the rays of sun that dance on your face warm you from the inside out. You blink carefully, lids still half closed as you take in your surroundings: The formation of rocks that makes up your cave, the meadow below you, the quiet gurgle of a stream behind a grove of trees.

“Oh.” The noise is barely more than a breath that escapes you, but when you look up at Halsin, a bright smile illuminates his features.

“Beautiful, is it not?”

“Yes!” you nod your head enthusiastically, too distracted by the beauty around you to notice the way Halsin’s eyes linger on your face.

“I am glad you think so.” His arms tighten around you for a moment as he adjusts his stance. “Are you feeling alright? The place I had in mind is not far.”

“I am wonderful,” you assure him, closing your eyes as you bask in the sun. You never noticed how much you missed all of this until now. Halsin’s company is the best you could imagine, but the cave gets lonely from time to time. You like being outside, hearing the birds sing again, watching the clouds that sail through the sky above.

“Right then,” Halsin nods. “Onwards we go.”

It really is not a long walk - it barely takes a minute. The quiet corner of the river is tucked between two bends, next to a big weeping willow. It’s warm outside, much warmer than you expected, and you dare to hope the water might not be ice cold.

Halsin stops right next to a small pool of water, set apart from the rest of the river by a few stones, carefully placed - much too neat to be a natural occurrence.

“I made a bath for you,” he says, sounding quite pleased with himself. “I knew you could never withstand the current, not in the shape you are in, and…”

You look up at him, awed by his care and affection.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Halsin smiles quietly.

“Whatever I can do to help, it’s my pleasure.” He points at the pool with his chin. “Do you think this will suffice?”

“Oh, it will more than suffice,” you nod, practically vibrating with excitement. Finally, after all this time, a bath. Feeling clean again.

Halsin seems to consider something, his brow furrowed with concern.

“I did not think about… where to put you down.”

You look at him in confusion and he shrugs, your weight not even slowing his shoulders in the movement. Your heart leaps.

“I mean,” Halsin explains, averting his eyes from yours tactfully, “that you will have to undress before you get in. Now, as you may have noticed, I enjoy nature in all of her forms, but I know not everyone is so… inclined.”

You swear you see a blush creep into his cheeks. His eyes flashing golden in the sunlight. Your heart flutters when you finally understand what he is trying to tell you.

“Oh!” you exclaim then, wiggling in his arms. This could not go better if you had planned it. You didn’t even think of this when you asked for a bath, but oh dear, did fate give you a good hand today. “I don’t mind if you stay, Halsin.”

“I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He sounds almost like he is trying to convince himself. “I made that pool of water quite deep so you could sit in it, though it is shallow enough the sun should have warmed it up a bit…”

“I would jump into the ice seas if only it meant a chance for a bath,” you chuckle. You tug at Halsin’s arm. “Put me down, please.”

He sets you down on the ground so gently as if you could break. You find your footing after a moment, holding on to his big arm until your head stops spinning, waving him off when he bends down to look at you with concerned eyes.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Promise.”

Halsin stares at you, but he doesn’t drag you back to the cave, so you take that as a sign of faith. You take a deep breath and start peeling out of the few layers of fabric you have on you. Reaching for your bandages, you hesitate.

“Should I leave those on?” you ask. Halsin’s eyes snap up to yours, and you nearly giggle at the look on his face. He has the expression of a bear caught with his paw in the honeypot.

“Oh… no,” he answers finally. “You can take those off, I’ll put fresh ones on after your bath.”

“Mhhm. You take such good care of me.”

You start peeling the bandages from your maltreated body, dedicating all your energy to staying upright. Halsin’s eyes never leave you, roaming up and down your naked body, but you are far too focused on the task at hand to notice.

This is the longest you have been on your legs in weeks, and your thighs are already starting to burn. Quickly, you finish unwrapping yourself. Before you can figure out a plan of how to best get into the water, strong hands slip beneath your arms and lift you up.

You squeal with joy as Halsin slowly lowers you down into the water.

It’s warmer than you expect, yet still cold as all hells. Goosebumps rise on your body and you shiver. Halsin stops moving, you, halfway submerged, hanging limp in his arms.

“Are you alright?”

Your teeth are not exactly chattering, but it takes some effort to keep it that way.

“‘M fine,” you say. “It’s just… a b-bit cold. But I’m okay. You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d take the ice seas earlier.”

Laughter rumbles from Halsin’s chest like thunder. It makes you smile. He laughs so much more now than he used to.

“Fine. I’ll- just give me a moment.”

You are gently placed down in the pool, cold water up to your neck. Halsin makes a dissatisfied sound.

“Seems I overestimated your size, little flower.”

“Not hard to do when you’re this big,” you mumble, turning around to look up at him, gesturing at his silhouette that stands out against the sun- and stop.

Your jaw nearly hangs open when you are faced with a nearly naked Halsin. You blink and shake your head, ready to believe that the cold may be causing hallucinations. Maybe you never woke up from your sickbed - maybe this is a dream. Maybe you died on the battlefield and this is Celestia.

Halsin sheds the last layers of clothing covering himself, and it’s all you can do not to say fuck me quite loudly. You bite your lip, but before you can even process the situation, Halsin has slipped into the self-made pool with you.

The water seems to heat up the second he is in there with you, his body so close to yours you could barely fit a leaf between the two of you. His eyes are bright gold in the sunshine, and he takes a deep breath, his chest expanding.

You stare and stare and hope you are not being all too obvious about it. Carefully, you take a step back only to slip on the muddy ground.

Halsin catches you easily, your body pressed against his, and you think that the water might start to boil any second now.

“Thanks,” you murmur, straightening up. His hand lets go of you as he takes a step back himself - the furthest he can go, even though there is stll barely space between you.

“Are you warm enough now?” he rumbles, sounding amused. There is a note of something else in his voice - a strain; not impatience, but something close to it. You press your hands to your sides awkwardly.

“Yeah… yeah, this is better. Thank-”

“No need to thank me.” Halsin interrupts you, abruptly turning around, away from you. The water that is up to your neck barely reaches halfway up his back. “I shall stay here so you don’t get sick on top of all your other injuries. Take all the time you need.”

You wish the water wasn’t so clear that you can see every detail of his backside. You wish his hair was not so soft, shining in the sun. You wish you could not see the muscles of his back ripple when he shifts, and that his shoulders would not look so perfectly round and juicy it makes your mouth water. You wish it was not so hard to avert your eyes.

A golden glitter in the water catches your eye. It travels up Halsin’s calf, his thigh. He shakes his head like he is swatting away flies, and the spark in the water fades.

What the hells was that?

You frown; but the water is winning you over. Your legs already hurt from standing, though the water makes the weight more bearable, and as much as you wish to stay here forever, tucked closely into your little corner of the world, feeling Halsin’s body next to yours, you have to admit you are feeling a little tired.

So, you get to work, scrubbing yourself down, dunking your head into the water and trying to extrapolate the filth from your hair. You are fairly certain Halsin must have at least wiped you down with a washcloth after rescuing you, since your body is not still covered entirely in guts and blood and dirt, but you have not had a proper bath in so long.

You sigh quietly as you wash your hair, your shoulders, your thighs, scrubbing and scrubbing until you feel raw in the best way. One of your arms hangs uselessly by your side, the bone on the mend but not healed, and soon, your other arm burns with exhaustion.

Halsin has not turned around to face you, though from his relaxed stance you are guessing he is probably basking in the sun with his eyes closed. You try and push through the pain and exhaustion, but eventually, you have to admit defeat.

“Halsin?” You tap his shoulder blade. A flash of light appears in the water, gone as soon as it came. His neck turns slightly.

“Yes?”

“Can you… help me?” you ask shyly. Finally, he turns around, his expression soft and controlled.

“What do you need help with, my angel?”

You shiver at the gravel in his voice, at the way he looks at you - with eyes burning, though you don’t dare to hope it may be desire. Maybe he is just getting impatient.

“I can’t reach,” you explain and point to your back. “Not with this arm, and-”

Large hands roam across your body, careful to avoid all the sore spots and healing wounds.

“Of course,” he grumbles. “Turn around.”

You blink up at him, then carefully spin around - you have learned your lesson from last time - holding onto the edge of the pool.

Halsin’s fingers are rough, but not in an uncomfortable way. His palms are soft when he slowly rubs small circles into your back, washing away dirt and grime, showering you in his attention and his care. You catch the golden sparkle in the water again, but when you twist to see, it is already gone again. It must be the sun.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the feeling of Halsin so close to you.

Something tightens in your belly at the way he touches you - the gentleness his large hands are capable of more than you can handle. The way his hands could so easily wrap around your waist makes your heart stumble.

Halsin’s hands glide up your back easily, up to your hairline, roaming across your shoulder blades, and back down, stopping just shy of the small of your back. A quiet moan escapes from your throat at the touch, and you stiffen. Halsin carries on as if nothing has happened.

Fine. If he can ignore it, then so can you.

You are fairly certain that you are clean at this point, but Halsin is not stopping on his own, and who would you be to tell him to stop? You close your eyes and relax into his touch, into the soft pads of his fingers that dig into your shoulders in just the right way, the warmth of his body that you can feel even through the water.

“Good,” he mumbles eventually, his hands vanishing from your back.. “I know you must be tired. Are you satisfied?”

With you? Never, you want to say. What comes out instead is a vague,

“Mmhhm.”

Halsin chuckles quietly.

“Oh, you are exhausted, my love. Come on, I will take you to bed.”

Your eyes are falling shut when he heaves himself out of the water, and you can’t even open your mouth to make a silly joke about being taken to bed by him. You could slap yourself for not being able to keep your eyes open - oh, to see him one more time, to take him in in all his glory in the fading light of the day.

Halsin lifts you out of the water easily. A shiver runs through him that makes you crack your eyes open. His irises glow golden in the sinking sun, and you smile at the sight. He smiles back at you, wrapping you in cloth, and carries you back to your cave, and back to your bed.

You are half-asleep when your head hits the pillow, so you can’t even blame yourself when your voice asks sleepily:

“Will you stay here with me tonight?”

Halsin gently pulls his hand from your grasp.

“Not tonight, my angel,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek so softly you wonder if you imagined it. “But I’ll be right outside should you need me.”

⋆༻༺⋆༺༻⋆••●••⋆༺༻⋆༻༺ ⋆

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Hello my darlings! I have been consumed whole by BG3 and the big bear man, so I hope you enjoy! (Lmk if you want to not be tagged in this little series, I'm just going to tag my usuals)

@cyarbika @deewithani @ficsbynight @kote-wan @ariadnes-red-thread @rescuethewretched @twistedstitcher27 @kakashibabe02 @writingbylee @purgetrooperfox @basilbumble @witchklng @lackofhonor @ashotofspotchka @sailor-blossom @misogirl828 @amyroswell @darkjedipoptarts @pinkiemme @sleepingsun501 @fett-djarin @samanthacookieone @tortor-mcgee @corrabell @queen--kenobi @elegantduckturtle @felinaone @palpipeen @wild-karrde @obeydontstray @obeydontstray @nomercyforthewarrior @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @thefact0rygirl @everythingyouwanted @equalityforcats @cagrame @ladykatakuri @snakerune @shadesofshatteredblue @100lxtters @damerondala @tachyon-girl @rintheemolion @pickleprickle @mando-amando @certified-anakinfucker @baba-fett @ulchabhangorm

#bg3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x reader #halsin x you #big love ahead series #gala writes

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