requested: “Jughead smut about the jacket? Like the reader is really mad he took it but he looks really hot and sin happens? Plz I’m a ho sorry”
GOD I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR AN EXCUSE TO DO THIS AND HERE IT IS
warning(s): SMUT, slight alcohol use
fuck here we go
The night is cold, tranquil. In FP Jones’ trailer the moonlight gives off a blue glare through the shutters on the windows, and the cans of Bud Lite that were previously gulped down with ease are now laying on the carpeted floor, slightly crushed.
You’re pinned against the wall, your legs wrapped against Jughead’s waist - your lips furiously moving against his in a rushed motion as he takes your shirt off effortlessly, your hands latching onto his clothing and doing the same.
And then he’s pouncing onto you again - his name written against your breaths of desperation for him to just do something already. He grabs your waist and kisses down your neck, nipping softly, before there’s a knock at the door.
“Oh my god -” You gasp out, Jughead losing his confidence in the spur of the moment, his head whipping around to look at the door.
“Is that your mom..?” He asks quietly, setting you down on the kitchen counter, pulling his shirt on, not bothering to fix his hair when he walked to the door.
You didn’t bother replying, you just followed him close behind.
Jughead was conversing with the Southside Serpents, from what you could tell - something about FP not snitching and how they would always have his back.
And then you saw the jacket.
That god damned jacket - the Snake embroidered leather jacket that symbolized all that was the antichrist of Riverdale. It shocked you, for a small moment.
But what really got to you was when he put it on.
Your boyfriend, Forsythe Pendleton Jughead Jones III, innocent, weird writer kid, with sex hair and a little smirk on his face, puts it on.
And you fucking die, you swear.
You widen your eyes and feel your heart tense up, your hand grabbing onto his arm, which is now guarded by his new article of clothing. “Juggie..?”
He thanks the Serpents and waves to them before closing the door behind him, walking back inside, an aura of badassery clinging to him. It was a new vibe, and strangely, you liked it.
He didn’t even let you speak before you were hurled up into his arms and making out with him again, right back where you started. His hands decide to travel more, unzipping your shorts and shoving them down.
You whine and pull back, his lips all smudged from your lipstick, and you swear it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t hesitate to get to the point. He runs his fingers over your heat slowly and pulls them back, grinning and biting his lip.
“Naughty girl..” He mutters to himself and picks you up again, running to the small bedroom in the given space of the trailer, tossing you onto the unmade bed. “I want your underwear off.”
You immediately obey him, taking your lacy thong off, sliding it down your legs teasingly.
He leans down and kisses at your v line, leaving tiny hickies along his way to your cunt, pinning your hips to the bed so you couldn’t move away when he licked a stripe up.
You gasped and curled your toes, looking down at your beautiful boyfriend. “Jug -!”
He moaned, raspily, and began to eat you out, using every skill known to man with his tongue, and his lips, sucking on your clit as well. He’s so good at it and you don’t know if this is his first time or not, but fuck, does he know how to go down on you.
You have no idea where this boost of confidence came from, but you are not complaining in any way. Jughead is taking his time and going hard, looking up at you with lust the entire time, his eyes seducing you to the point of insanity.
You whimper underneath him, your body writhing on the bed in attempt to buck up and have some sort of liberation, your hand fisting in his somewhat nappy brown locks, back arching.
“Juggie, oh my god - yes..”
“Mhm?” He moans against you, and just as you’re about to come he pulls away, his lips wet and red. “Was that good, baby?”
“Wh - no! Go back!”
“I don’t think you call the shots, (Y/N)..” He purrs, kissing at your neck again, rubbing you slowly, one of his long, amazing fingers slipping into you. “God, how is it that you’re so wet already and I’ve barely touched you?”
You sobbed and held onto him tight, rolling your hips against him and sucking on his collarbone, making sure he fucking felt that. “Take your shirt off, and the jacket - please..”
(there’s about to be some serious sin here folks prepare yourselves)
In almost an instant, his jacket and his shirt come off, as well as his socks and jeans, and he’s left in nothing but his tented boxers.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do..” He mutters, his lips pressed against your ear, “I’m gonna let you go, and you’re gonna make me feel good. Got that?”
You obey him when he let go of you, and start palming him through his boxers, squeaking quietly when you felt him twitch underneath his hand. “Jug..”
You nod, gulping and slowly taking his boxers down, your breath catching in your throat when you see him fully. But you still wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly at first - speeding up when Jughead moans at you to continue.
“That’s a good girl..” He rasps. “Suck me off.”
God, this was it.
You wrapped your lips around him and sucked slowly, teasing him, moving all the way down to his base, cupping his hip. He threw his head back and pushed himself into your mouth even more, panting. “God, (Y/N).. that mouth is astonishing.”
You groan around him and look up, using your tongue to brush the underside of his cock, his breath hitching.
It’s been a few minutes of you giving him head, and it’s tense - and hot. Jughead is moaning and gripping your hair and pushing you down further onto him, so close.
“H - Haah.. god, I’m close, baby, come on..”
His encouraging words made you speed up, and you pulled back, stroking him as fast as you possibly could. “Come on, Juggie, come on..”
“Open your fuckin’ mouth.”
You obeyed him again, sticking your tongue out while you opened.
Jughead felt a rush of excitement pulse through his veins as he reached his release, letting a low cry out as he came into your mouth, his back arching. “Fuuuck..”
You swallowed so the horrible taste wasn’t in your mouth anymore, panting when you were finished. “Thank you, Forsythe..”
“Mhm.” He grunts, laying down and pulling you next to him, “You’re welcome.”
“I - I didn’t come, yet..”
“C - Can I?”
Jughead though for a moment. “No.”
“Tomorrow, my love, I will wake you up with a surprise.”
“Now, enough talking, go to sleep.”
You cuddled closer into him and nuzzled his neck, appreciating the warmth of his body. “Okay, goodnight, baby.”
that was it! it was alright but i was up at like 2am writing this so i mean
let me know if you liked it - follow me or repost this or show some love in any way so i know that i should continue this stuff ahaha
leave me requests if you’d like! let me know if you want to be tagged in my stuff :)
the tags arent workin y'all the formatting comes out weird idk
Summary: Negan found you being viciously used by your previous group so he dealt out some justified viciousness of his own saving your life. He’s the only person you talk to and trust, he’s your best friend, but after 2 years you’ve come to realize you’ve fallen maddeningly in love with your savior.
Notes: not much plot here I was feeling pretty down and decided to cheer myself up with this fluffy smut exercise lol
It was raining cats and dogs outside as you and Negan sat in his room, he was bouncing a red ball against the wall in boredom. Leaning back in his chair he let out a deep sigh stretching his long legs out in front of him making his leather jacket squeak in protest.
Catching the ball off the wall he rolled his head to look at you, you were sitting in the chair in front of his desk reading a National Geographic magazine.
He smirked bouncing the ball off his desk so that it sailed over your magazine into your lap. You jumped snatching up the red object before smiling “can I help you?”
He chuckled opening his hands as you tossed the ball back to him. “I’m fucking bored, talk to me” you laughed sitting up straighter in your chair to scoot closer to his desk.
“ok, what'cha wanna talk about?”
He shrugged “fuck if I fucking know just…” he gestured to you “read me something” he groaned spinning his chair around before once again facing you scrubbing his hands across his face.
You giggled scanning the open page of the magazine “oh here we go” you gave him a mischievous smile “did you know some species of bee’s ejaculations are so powerful there actually audible and can cause death?”
Negan’s eyebrows raised as he leaned forward to toss the ball to you which you caught with one hand.
He leaned back “fuck, good thing I’m not a fucking bee right?” he laughed. You blushed tossing the ball back to him before lifting the magazine to cover your face.
He smiled at your reaction, bouncing the ball off the wall next to him a couple more times before getting to his feet.
“Ya hungry beautiful?”
Your blush only intensified as he moved behind you toward the door, glancing back at him you smiled “uh…yeah if you are” he chuckled “alright, alright” he opened the door disappearing down the hall.
You let out a deep breath, Negan was your best friend. He saved your life, he was kind, funny, obnoxious…sure he was a vicious protector but that was just another thing you loved about him.
That was something you had resigned yourself to never feel again, but you couldn’t keep ignoring the feelings you had developed for your savior.
You owed him everything and he had asked nothing from you in return, at first you found it odd that he didn’t demand you at least work for points…but in the end you decided that maybe he needed the company as much as you did.
Sure he had his many wives but the relationship you had was different.
After what happened with your last group you had felt broken, but Negan led you through the darkness back to the light. Everyday he visited you in the infirmary, everyday he would bring you food and somehow convince you to eat it. His brash personality, crude humor and vulgar language soon became the only things that made you smile.
He was everything to you.
But being intimate with people still terrified you, it felt like a cinder block had been tied to your ankles. But with Negan it was different, you yearned for his presence…he was the only thing that made you feel safe.
The door swung open smacking against the wall causing you to jump dropping the magazine to the floor. Negan grimaced “fuck, sorry” his large frame stalked into the room tossing a couple bags of chips on his desk, he placed two bottles of water in front of you before making his way back to his chair.
You gave him a soft smile, maybe he could help.
He always helped
You cleared your throat getting his attention as he attempted to tear open the bag with his teeth. You giggled as he kept the bag in his mouth raising his eyebrows at you expectantly.
You ran a hand through your hair “uh…could…Negan am I pretty?” you sighed.
He snorted dropping the bag in his hands focusing on it as he smiled “what the fuck kind of question is that?…you’re fucking gorgeous don’t ever let anyone tell you fucking otherwise”. You smiled “not as pretty as your wives though right?”
He looked up at you with a frown “what’s with the fucking questions Y/N?” you instantly shrunk in your seat dropping your eyes to the floor shaking your head “nothing…it’s…I’m being stupid, sorry”.
He continued to stare at you before he got back to his feet.
You scooted away from him as he made his way to you crouching down to pluck your magazine off the floor, offering it to you with a smile.
“What’s fuckin eatin ya Y/N…you had a goal with the fucking questions I assume, so….? He made a rolling gesture with his large hand.
You sighed “well…I was wondering…could I…could I try something?” he looked confused “uh yeah sure”
He cocked an eyebrow at you with a smirk “something fuckin frisky?” you attempted to swallow the lump in your throat.
His eyes widened at your silence “oh…no shit?” he looked beyond shocked even a little worried.
You shifted uncomfortably as he stood up “look you know I’m just fucking around right? I don’t fucking mean to push you into something your not fucking comfortable with”.
You rubbed your shoulders nervously “I know Negan…I trust you, and you know how I am with people…” he rubbed his jaw “what exactly are we fucking talking about here?”
You rolled your lips getting to your feet “can I just…uh…I don’t know touch you?” he shrugged “uh yeah…if your fucking cool with it” he gestured to his body finally letting his signature smile grace his lips “fucking have at it”.
Suddenly this seemed like a really bad idea “uh I…” he smiled turning back to his desk, gathering up your courage you quickly grabbed his hand his eyes darting down at your hands curiously
“you don’t have to fucking do anything”
you nodded “I know”.
He smiled as you moved closer wrapping your arms cautiously around his leather clad torso. A deep purr rumbling up through his chest “that’s not so fucking bad” you smiled rubbing his lower back, he was right…this wasn’t bad…this was actually wonderful.
Negan chose to keep his hands to himself which you found incredibly thoughtful. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, this was your decision and your choice on how far you wanted to take it.
Slowly, your fingers ran up his jacket gripping the zipper before pulling it down to reveal his white t-shirt.
Negan chuckled “hey now, don’t be fucking taking advantage of me here” he leaned back to look at your deep flush. His nose rubbing your forehead slightly as you felt his smile against your skin.
Rubbing your hands up and down his sides he chuckled making you both laugh.
Taking a chance you let your arms snake inside the leather wrapping around his warm body. Negan watched you nuzzle against him “wanna move to the fucking couch or something since we’re fucking cuddling” he grinned.
You nodded pulling back “thank you Negan” he looked confused “it’s no fucking problem Y/N, I’ve been asked to do some fucking weird ass shit but this sure as fuck ain’t one of em”.
You giggled “your sweet” he gave you a weird look “honey I’ve been fucking called a lot of things, but fucking sweet isn’t one of em”.
Shaking your head you cupped his smooth cheeks “your sweet”, he smiled “if you fucking say so” you gave him a teasing wink “I do”.
Growling playfully he lifted you in his arms bridal style before plopping himself on the couch with you in his lap. You squeaked clutching his jacket tightly as you squeezed your eyes shut until once again you were still.
Cracking your eyes open you were met with Negan’s goofy smile as he waggled his eyebrows at you “ya fucking ok?” you smiled ducking your head to hide your blush against his broad chest. He kissed the crown of your head with a chuckle as he shifted himself so he was more comfortable.
Your hands slid down his chest before rubbing back up to his shoulders, it felt nice…just touching him. Looking up at his face you were surprised to see his eyes closed.
Perhaps he was enjoying this as well.
Pursing your lips you gathered every ounce of courage you could muster before leaning up to press your lips to his.
Negan flinched in surprise, his eyes drifting open for a moment to meet yours before falling back closed as you coaxed his lips open running your tongue against his. He moved his head forward, his jaws working as your kiss became heated. The sound of his hands gripping the leather couch in restraint made you smile.
Getting lost in the overwhelming sensation of finally connecting with someone you gently twisted yourself around to straddle his lap. Negan let out a rough noise in his throat turning his head to rest against your shoulder “fuck Y/N I’m trying to be a fuckin gentleman here…but your uh” he chuckled “making it really fucking hard”.
You giggled running your hands through his ink black hair “sorry”. He wrinkled his nose “don’t fucking apologize”
You smiled leaning back down to kiss his neck making him shiver, his body slumping back on the couch. Running your nimble fingers down his firm arms you laced your fingers with his your lips traveling back to his.
Pulling away you gazed into his dark eyes, your pulse was pounding, your breathing ragged.
Your eyes drifted to wear your bodies pressed together, you wanted desperately to take the next step…but you were afraid.
Negan leaned his head back, his chest heaving as he tried to calm himself down. His reactions were doing something to you…something you weren’t sure you wanted to stop.
Choosing to let your body make the decision, you ran the hand not clasped with Negan’s up his chest to rest at the base of his throat. Taking a deep breath you gently moved your hips against his, his eyes snapped open a deep groan bursting from his lungs.
“Fuck, fucking shit Y/N what the fuck you doin?”
You stilled your movements afraid that you had truly taken advantage of your friend, “I uh…i’m sorry” you scrambled off his lap his hand snatching your wrist before you could retreat. “Hey its fucking fine gorgeous, it’s just…” he sighed “I don’t want you to fucking think you have to fucking take this any fucking further ok”.
You gave him a soft smile “that’s why I want to try Negan, you’re the only one who makes me feel safe”. He looked shocked but nodded pulling on your wrist slightly as you climbed back onto his lap, his large hands wrapping around your hips.
His gentle smile had your stomach doing flips.
“Have at me gorgeous” he chuckled, you smiled grasping the lapels of his jacket. Crashing your lips against his you rolled your hips making him give a muffled moan in response. The feel of his hardened body beneath you had you mewling, your body was trembling as he growled against your skin.
“That’s it, fucking give to me baby” He purred the sound of his deep voice made you keen loudly as he began grinding against you. You could feel his fingers digging into your skin but you understood the desperation…you felt it to.
Sitting up so that you could grind down on him harder Negan began grunting roughly in your ear. Your moans mixing with his in a sensual symphony as your ecstasy grew closer to its peak. He arched up beneath you when you bit at his thick neck, his mouth open in a silent moan.
Swinging your head back in pleasure you fisted his shirt in the center of his chest.
“Oh god Negan” you sighed, he groaned roughly leaning forward to mouth at your clothed breasts. You squeaked clutching at his hair as you felt the pressure in your stomach grow with every pump of his hips. He was purring against you as you slowed your movements, you were so close it hurt.
“Come on baby, you can do it” he breathed rolling his stiff erection against your core as his hands slid to your inner thighs. You squealed as he began kneading your sensitive flesh causing you to move against him harder. He cried out grabbing your hips to slow you down, chuckling at his wrecked appearance you caressed his face rocking against him before your body exploded.
Screaming out his name you fell back against his thighs as he grabbed your hips continuing to rock against you as he gave a pained groan arching against the leather as he released within his pants. Running his hands up your stomach he gripped your neck pulling you back to his lips grunting against you as you shifted against him.
His smile was lazy as he pressed his forehead firmly against yours cradling your soft face in his rough hands “you ok?” he rasped.
You giggled running your hands through his hair “better than ok…thank you Negan”.
He chuckled “glad I could help gorgeous”
☆TAG LIST☆ let me know if u want on or off the list ;)
Warnings: Reader has bruises, Panic attacks (It’s only a little one I swear)
Summary: Reader is being chased through the woods but by who? And why? Jughead is determined to find out but all is not what it seems, what secrets will he uncover?
A/N: I have no idea what I'm doing, this just kinda happened. I’d appreciate the feedback but honestly, i’d be surprised if anyone actually reads this xD. it’ll be getting more parts whether people read it or not because this was so much fun to write!!
Pairing: Hux x Reader Summary: Second Part to A Little Too Tight where you decide to step out of uniform code yet again in hopes to arouse your General. Warnings: Wayyyy NSFW again. Choking, cussing, sex, spanking. Word Count: 2.6K A/N: So idk how I feel about how this came out?? I love the dialogue but idk I’m a garbage can lmao. I really want to continue this like a 2.5 part where you see Hux’s softer side with aftercare and then a Part 3 where it’s a couple months later and you’ve been trained so well so he takes you to meetings with him as a “treat”. Idk request it if you want those extensions.
Author’s notes: I didn’t write the smut. I’m sorry. I’m super sick at the moment and I am far from the horndog mood. -
Fandom: Riverdale Pairing: Jughead Jonesx Reader Word Count: 1262 Request: “
Can I request a bottom!preppy! Male reader x top!Southside serpent! Jughead smut please?”
So this is always gonna be a harder au to write than to draw so im shaking it up a bit. I’ve sorted them as different sub genres of punk.
Enjolras - run of the mill Punk Rock. stretched lobes, snake bites, studded leather jacket with political slogans, dip dyed red hair. He doesn’t wear it as a mohawk often but he could
Combeferre - Trallpunk. Originated in Sweden. very politically orientated lyrics with crazy fast drums over it. very forward thinking which Combeferre LOVES.
Courfeyrac - Glam Punk. do I really need to explain why Courf would be into the genre of punk that involves fashion, sequins and bold crazy makeup? really?
Grantaire - Art Punk. Oh man these guys were PretentionsTM. R would have loved them.
Joly - Queercore. just…. aggressively gay? this was the scene where Joly discovered their gender stuff so. Has a hand-done piercing in his ear that he never takes out. It’s a little pink triangle.
Bossuet - Garage Punk. lo-fi as fuck. Boss doesn’t even really know why he likes it so much. The core idea is very simple and maybe that’s why. He’s always been a simple guy.
Jehan - Jazz Punk. Grew up with Jazz because their dad was from New Orleans but always wanted to shake it up a bit. Jazz punk delighted them. Two genres that were anti - “do what everyone else says”. PERFECT.
Bahorel - Anarcho Punk. These guys do just really wanna start shit basically. perfect. So much leather and bright red anarchy symbols. right up Bahorel’s street.
Feuilly - Folk Punk. Love some punk feat. mandolin. nothing like it.
Marius - Pop Punk. Would die for Gerard Way. dyed his hair black. extremely heavy black eyeliner. you know the drill
Cosette - Horror Punk. Honestly everyone is terrified of Cosette. Never put her Ipod on shuffle. ever.
Eponine - Two-Tone (basically SKA). Ok anyone who knows me knows I adore SKA. She owns approx 6 pairs of 2nd hand Docs. Painted her own leather jacket two-tone. Ain’t no party til Eponine’s Ska playlist gets put on.
Chetta - Taqwacore - Punk subgenre that deals with Islam. Chetta got into it when she was still living in Pakistan and coming out. Destroy the system but still true to her religion? perfect for a trans female activist. perf.
slouching beanies, thick silver rings, sugary coffee dolloped in cream, cobblestone paths, snowflakes stuck in one's hair, cinnamon wafting through the air, plush blankets, heavy iron doors
curly hair, gilded hallways, knit sweaters hanging off of shoulders, chess pieces, citrus candles, golden mirrors, feather pillows, sharp fountain pens bleeding ink, stone lions
skipping stones in river beds, delicate collarbones, strawberry tarts, knee high socks, tiled floors, thin metal chains, pin straight hair, wavy hair falling down backs, chrome crowns
rosewater, sunlight pouring through windows, flower crowns, boned dresses, gladiator sandals, golden thorns, silky sheets, pink lipstick, pristine paperbacks, tall stemmed wine glasses
burning fireplaces, moonlight, bells ringing through the air, braided hair, combat boots, knit blankets, sweetened tea, vanilla, fingerless gloves, gothic buttresses, silver cuffs
sandy beaches, henna tracing one's veins, the aroma of spiced sweets, messy buns, blood orange, golden snakes, leather jackets, spires, geometric archways, winged eyeliner, bronze
stag horns, obsidian, masquerade balls, sleek couches, tart fruits, starry skies, modern art, daggers on display, signet rings, ponytails, leggings and thin t-shirts, humid evenings
ropes, sea salt, weathered wood, windy nights, seafood stews, carved marble statues, waterlogged fabric dragging one down, fur tapestries, model ships, hoop earrings, tote bags
He puts a hand to the surface
of the water, watches as it ripples underneath his fingertips. Cool to the
touch, he sinks his hand down deeper. He reaches sand, holds it in his palm,
watches the eerie light of the anchor distort underneath clear water. He moves
to stand once again, hands at his belt, the straps of his armor. They land
softly in the sand, beside his bow and his quiver. The spray of the waterfall touches
bare skin, and he smiles as he wades into the pool of the Oasis.
He keeps his hands above the
surface this time, feeling the water rise and rise, until it’s at his waist.
Water pours down the cracks of the rocks above, and he closes his eyes as he
tilts his face upwards. The breeze sweeps through the long grass, rustles
through the trees. Sand rolls over sand, swirling patterns of the earth. He can
hear distant birds, the croak of insects far closer. The shade is cool but the
sun is ever so warm, beating down on his shoulders and his back.
“And what’s this?” His hands
fall to his side as he looks over his shoulder, seeing Dorian with his arms
crossed and a pleased smirk on his face. Eyes moving over the line of Lavellan’s
shoulders, down the muscle of his back, to what’s hidden underneath the
surface. “Aren’t you afraid someone might see you?” Dorian asks as he sits at
the edge of the water, dusting off the sand that’s already settled on his
“Someone like you?” Lavellan
asks, his smirk matching Dorian’s. He kneels down in the pool until water laps
at his chin. “I’m not afraid of any of the scouts seeing me, if that’s what you’re
asking. They can deal with a little Inquisitass.”
At the sound of Dorian’s laughter, he lets the water swallow him whole. He
opens his eyes slowly, watches as his breath goes bubbling to the surface. The
sun glitters like diamonds, little drops of light, and all sounds are utterly muted.
He reemerges without a sound,
just a deep breath, pushing back strands of hair from his face. He pulls the
ribbon from his hair, lets it all fall loose. He pulls it over a shoulder,
squeezes the water from it. When he looks at Dorian, he finds he’s standing, mimicking
what Lavellan had done minutes earlier. Soft leather and fabric ordained with
stylized snakes joins harder dalish leather, staff beside bow. It’s hard not to
stare. Lavellan bites his bottom lip as Dorian makes his way towards him. “It’s
cold,” he says, such distaste in his voice, a stubborn frown on his brow.
“You get used to it,” Lavellan
“I’ve gotten used to a great
many things with you by my side. Plenty more in the future, I’ll wager.” Dorian
says it so casually, so easily, but it makes all of Lavellan’s fidgeting
motions go silent. “They really do go everywhere,” Dorian murmurs, a hand
reaching out to trace the tattoos that slip down his throat, splay over his
chest, his arms, places obscured by water.
Lavellan surges forward, cold,
wet hands on Dorian’s face, pressing lips against lips. They’d only kissed once
before, that stolen moment in the library, but this confirms what Lavellan
already knew. Dorian needed to be kissed, and often. Preferably by him. Dorian’s
hands settle on his arms as Lavellan steps forward, pulling Dorian’s lip between
his teeth. In the surprise, he pushes his tongue inside, wet and warm, tracing
over teeth, another tongue, breathing a small groan into Dorian’s mouth.
Dorian’s hands are moving over
every inch of him, fingertips at the bumps of his spine, the curve of his
waist. They settle on his hips, squeeze tightly, fingertips against flesh.
Lavellan puts one arm around Dorian’s shoulder, his other hand moving through
his hair. Another soft groan and Lavellan is moving forward again, desperate
and needy, wanting to be closer and isn’t close enough. It’s the final step
that does them in, Dorian falling backwards and taking Lavellan with him.
Dorian emerges out of the water
with a gasp, elbows in the sand to prop himself up, wet hair sticking to his
forehead and looking positively miserable. Lavellan is on his hands and knees over
him, laughing helplessly. “Funny is it?” Dorian grumbles. Unable to form words,
Lavellan can only keep laughing and nods in reply. With a playful grin, Dorian
reaches upwards, tugs at the tip of a pointed ear, and pulls Lavellan into the
water beside him. Their laughter echoes in all the hollow places of the oasis,
bouncing off rock, lost in the roar of pouring water.