#gale is a drama queen

[randomfanner]

Gale has all the bath stuff. He has got the soaps, salts, oils, herbs and flowers to make the most luxurious bath time in a large magic tub that he can keep at his perfect temperature, fret not it is big enough for two.

he has an array of different product for his hair and beard and of course to keep himself smelling fantastic. Along with lotions and such to keep himself soft.

Of course all of this is accompany by a glass of wine, some soft music playing in the background and soothing candles that waft through the air.

[max--phillips]

In no particular order, a collection of some of my favorite lines of dialogue I’ve gotten screenshots of.

(Edit: part 2 here)

[junocornkiwi]

a recent WIP for May :3

oh nooo gale get caught by a nasty elven pirate with sweet white curly hair he shouldn't have try to kiss him and lure into the ocean (astarion is immune to such lurings)

[academic-vampire]

Oh look, it’s my dramatic little lover pouting off to the side, trying to get my attention with those sad little eyes. Use your words, darling.

[yesistolethisurl]

I'm sorry, does the portal-man have something to say about normal entrances??

[randomthigs]

SPOILERS

OMG Regina just decked Emma even though she was spitting facts. NO LIES WERE SPOKEN. Kinda reminds me of Sidney decking Gale.

I see no difference, except for the fact that Emma hit back real quick. I love for the ladies in Once Upon A Time 🤩

Sidney Prescott will forever and always be an icon.

[wisp-of-chaos]

Oh my god Gale died for the very first time for me and ... WOW.

[astariontopofme]

Tav: *returning to camp and looking around* Is Astarion around?

Shadowheart: *points to him sitting against a tree* He’s been over there for a while.

Tav: *confused* Why?

Gale: He’s in the naughty corner.

Tav: *crossing their arms and shaking their head* He’s not a child, you know? You can’t just banish him to the naughty corner.

Gale: Actually, he named it the naughty corner. We just told him he needed to chill out.

Shadowheart: He announced it to the rest of the party and stomped over there in a huff.

Tav: *pinching the bridge of their nose* He’s such a bloody drama queen…

Astarion: *pouting* I CAN HEAR YOU!

.

[mxllitiam]

Delly stayed. And Delly kept staying. It was infuriating, that he could be roaring all of his thunder down on her, shoving her away as fast as he could, and she insisted on staying. It seemed like the louder he shouted, the worse he acted, it just made her dig her heels in and grow roots at his doorstep. He'd been so rude at the party -- despicable, at best, his mother had not raised him to be mean to people who didn't deserve it. And he was positive he sounded insane now, unable to make out the mess of thoughts in his head himself, a volatile weapon misfiring everywhere. And yet, she persisted. For some reason.

I shouldn't have said wallow, she said, and he paused, brows furrowing as he watched her with newfound curiosity. Was that a fucking apology? It must've been, because his instinct was to respond yeah, that's right! like a petulant child who had lost all of his arguments the second his oponent laid their weapons down. Delly had never come in with any weapons, though. As predicted, yelling at her didn't make him feel better. Yelling at a capitolite might make him feel like some big shot guy, but yelling at Delly quickly proved to make him feel like shit. Like the time he got mad at Posy for breaking one of their mugs and she cried. It felt like screaming at one of his own, not an outsider.

Annoying and irritating were admittedly some of the (kinder) words on his mind, so he didn't bother correcting her, but he kept his mouth shut. Gale did a lot of things on impulse, and hurting people was not far from the list, but he was trying. He already had a fallout with Katniss earlier, he'd been thoughtless and careless and even in his blinding rage, he knew he'd hurt her. He was trying to be better about saying things he didn't mean -- or thinking he meant things he didn't. "I need to keep watch," he insisted, looking back at the screen where nothing had changed. He knew she had a point, he could watch from anywhere. And his pair of eyes meant nothing. He wasn't a mentor, not even a sponsor. "I don't want to fucking eat anythin', jesus fucking--" he trailed off, too tired to even finish cursing anything out. That tiredness again, the one that couldn't be fix with any amount of sleep in the world. "You don't get it. You don't! Last year, we were devastated they were in there, sure, you know how that feels. This year, I'm planning what I'm gonn' say to my little brothers and sister about their mom dying. I'm thinking about havin' to raise three kids by my-fucking-self. It's not the fucking same, Delly, it's--" the words cut off again; they were never his forte. He put a hand to his racing heart and willed it to calm down. "Tell me how going out for food is gonna help any of this." 

Delly hadn't been sure what to expect of Gale when she knocked on the door, but it was probably this. He was prickly and rude on a normal day, so it only made sense that with his mother in the Games, he would be having a harder time. She felt for him, having his best friend in the Games last year and his mother this year. It almost seemed too unlucky to believe. Delly had no idea how she would react if she had been in his shoes, which was why she was trying to give him something to distract himself with. She had learned that distraction was key last year.

It was almost funny the way that she could tell how he was going to react just by looking at his face. He didn't have a very good poker face. They probably didn't need that in the Seam and working in the mines. Did he work in the mines? She had no idea and now wasn't the time to ask.

She stood in the doorway as he yelled, not saying anything. She was used to dealing with Peeta when he was moody, but it was never as loud as this. At least not really. When he finished yelling, she took a deep breath. It was getting a little old, the way he kept yelling at her. "I shouldn't have said wallow," she apologized. "I know that your mom is in the Hunger Games, Gale. And that's why I think you need to go out and do something."

"Fucking what?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, say it," she told him. "I'm what, annoying? Irritating? Whatever word you can think of I've probably heard it before," she snapped at him. It sucked that she was trying to help him and he just kept pushing her away. Why was she trying to help him? Why did it matter to her that she help him? "Look, Gale, I know it fucking sucks that this is happening. It really does. And I'm sorry. But I'm not the one that put your mom there. I just thought that you might want a distraction because that's what I needed last year. So I mean, whatever, if you really don't want to go and eat something I'll go, but I doubt your mom would want you to just sit in here. They have the Games on literally everywhere so you won't miss anything. It looks like Chandler and your mom are sleeping now, we can go and be back before they wake up."

[dailygale]

Lets be honest Gale is a drama queen

[jessicarosem]

My personal view on all of the bg3 companions’ intra-party relationships (without tav):

SHADOWHEART:

Acts like Astarion’s younger sister. The two can often be found bitching (about each other and everyone else). But astarion is the one who helps her cut her bangs (after telling her they look terrible, as a classic gay older brother)

She and Lae’zel have a very “two cats who live in the same home” relationship. They fight a lot at first but eventually learn to coexist

Likes adventuring with Karlach the most (because she needs less healing than the others)

Is the camp mom (and HATES it)

Is the mom to Scratch and the owl bear cub. They usually sleep in her tent and they both like her the best (because she gives them treats)

ASTARION:

Him and Gale are in love. Obviously.

Low key hates Wyll because he’s always trying to save people (and, let’s be honest, there can only be one drama queen in the party)

Surprisingly doesn’t hate Karlach, actually views her as a small (big) puppy dog of a person that is a little misguided but mostly adorable (even if he won’t admit it)

Shadowheart starting calling him the camp grandpa after he started calling her the camp mom (he pretends it doesn’t bother him but he hates it)

“Hates” Scratch and the owlbear cub (one night the cub ran away and he spent all night looking for it. He was crying when he came back until he noticed it was in Shadowheart’s tent burrowed under blankets. No one is allowed to mention said night)

KARLACH:

Wyll is her best friend in the entire world. They’d both readily die for the other one.

Both her and gale have taken it upon themselves to teach Lae’zel about Faerun. Most of these sessions entail Karlach saying horribly incorrect things about Faerun and Gale going on long-winded explanations of how “well, no actually Karlach that isn’t quite correct. In actuality-“ while Lae’zel sneaks away

Loves the animals more than anything (and cries over the fact that they like shadowheart more than her)

Bonus: Damon and her are in love and you can’t change my mind about this

LAE’ZEL:

Respects Wyll for his fighting prowess but is extremely confused by his morals. Decided in act 1 that she couldn’t talk to him about morals for the safety of them both

She and Astarion are feral buddies TM

Hates Gale. Hates him so so so much. The only reason she hasn’t killed him yet is because there’s (allegedly) a bomb in his chest

Surprisingly Karlach is her favorite, both because of fighting ability and her just being impossible to dislike

GALE:

Really, truthfully believes that Lae’zel likes him. Astarion is too amused to correct him.

Loves Karlach like a little sister. Will often keep her entertained with magic tricks. Autistic to her ADHD

Very good friends with Wyll mostly because hes one of the only ones that will enthusiastically listen to his ramblings (and understand them)

The animals don’t like him after he tried to reduce the owlbear cub and it went poorly

WYLL:

Genuinely likes every single member of the party for different reasons (his least favorite is Astarion, but he’d never say it out loud)

Is the camp dad (and LOVES it)

Camp matchmaker. Was the reason that Gale and Astarion got together and was the reason that Karlach and Dammon got together.

Him and Shadowheart aren’t close during the adventure, but become very close while they’re both residing in Baldur’s Gate after the fact.

Likes Scratch more than the owlbear cub, which is the only source of him and Karlach’s disagreements

[bg-brainrot]

Giving the BG3 companions superlatives like they're in a yearbook:

Astarion: Drama Queen

Gale: Most Likely to Succeed

Karlach: Most School Spirit

Lae'zel: Most Athletic

Shadowheart: Best Glow-Up

Wyll: Best Dancer

The latecomer students:

Halsin: Best Artist

Minthara: Class Clown

Staff members:

Jaheira: Scariest Teacher

Minsc: Most Quotable Teacher

Withers: Most Helpful Teacher

[justcallmefox89]

Gale and the Gith: Chapter Eleven - Inferior Part II

Gale, Lae'zel, Astarion, and X'aa'nath reach the creche.

“I would like to state my objection to this plan one last time.”

“My people offer you purification.”  Lae’zel sneers at Astarion.  “Or would you rather succumb to the parasite in your head?”

“Oh it’s not the purification I object to, darling.  It’s the wandering around an abandoned monastery full of murderous gith I have qualms about,” Astarion replies, baring his fangs at her.

“All will be well, Astarion,” X’aa’nath interjects quietly, stepping between the two.  “My kin will not harm you.  I swear.”

Uncertainty flits over the vampire’s delicate features for a moment, but he manages a small smile and nods his assent.  “After you then, my dear.”

As Lae’zel shoulders open the doors leading to the lower levels of the abandoned monastery, Gale steps closer to X’aa’nath.

“You don’t have to do this,” Gale whispers, taking note of the slightly panicked way the sorcerer’s eyes are darting about and the harshness of his breathing.

“I…” X’aa’nath falters monetarily, but quickly collects himself.  “I am githyanki.  Purification is the will of my queen.  I must obey.”

Gale’s chest squeezes at the resigned tone of his voice, but a warning cry prevents the wizard from responding.

“Sentries, to arms!  Istik.  State your purpose.  Quickly!”

X’aa’nath snarls at the guard’s insult, baring sharp teeth, and takes a threatening step forward.

“Stand down, gish,” Lae’zel commands.  “Is it not Vlaakith’s command to welcome her faithful?”

“I expected no visitors, faithful or otherwise.  Especially in the company of the Khou’zal’s runt.”  The guard eyes X’aa’nath scornfully.

The air crackles with electricity and X’aa’nath’s hair floats around his shoulders as the faint smell of ozone permeates the air.  Astarion slinks behind Gale as X’aa’nath’s eyes take on a faint, blue glow.  The four guards freeze in place, clawing at their throats as an unseen entity quietly siphons the air from their lungs.

“You dare speak the name of the great Jhe’stil Kithrak Khou’zal with such scorn, gish?”

A shiver crawls up Gale’s spine at the soft, threatening tone of X’aa’nath’s voice.

“As much as I do adore drama, don’t you think one of you should do something?” Astarion whispers urgently as the guard’s boots begin to smoke.

“Kin.”  Lae’zel places her hand on X’aa’nath’s shoulder, wincing as a stray tendril of magic sparks against her bare skin.  “We require their aid.”

He silently glares out her out of the corner of his eye, refusing to relinquish his hold over the guards.

“You can kill them after we’ve been cured,” she promises under her breath.

Gale begins to protest, but Astarion is quicker, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his words.  “Shut.  Up,” he hisses.

X’aa’nath takes a deep, shuddering breath and reluctantly begins reeling in his magic; the guards slump to the ground, sucking in air with deep, greedy breaths.

“We require treatment.  Where is your ghustil?” Lae’zel asks.

One of the guards raises an arm and gestures towards the general direction of the infirmary with a shaking hand.

“Come, kin.”  Lae’zel tugs on the sleeve of X’aa’nath’s robe, urging him to stay close to her.  Astarion and Gale follow the pair closely, senses heightened as they venture deeper into the creche. 

The githyanki of this creche are in near constant motion, unease marking their movements as they carry out their daily activities.  X’aa’nath and Lae’zel whisper to each other in gith, their expressions becoming increasingly troubled. 

Astarion clears his throat.  Loudly.  “Would either of you care to share with the rest of the class?”

X’aa’nath hangs back with Gale and Astarion, glancing at Lae’zel before answering.  “An Inquisitor is visiting the creche.”

“Why?  Is he part of the search for the artefact?”

X’aa’nath shrugs, rubbing his forehead.  “Potentially.  No matter the reason we need to stay far away from him and leave as soon as we have concluded our business with the ghustil.”

“Kin!”  Lae’zel calls. 

X’aa’nath hurries to catch up to her, throwing them one last concerned look over his shoulder.

The group finds the creche’s doctor hunched over a microscope, painstakingly dissecting a mindflayer tadpole and muttering to herself.

“If you require treatment, take a seat, kin.  Or do you have a question?” she asks suddenly, turning away from her dissection.

“I am Lae’zel, of creche K’llir.  I have come for purification.”

The doctor pushes away from her workstation, suddenly energized.  “Cursed is the day that even we become ghaik incubators.  How long has it been since you were infected?”

“Several days.  Any with none of the initial symptoms associated with ceremorphosis,” X’aa’nath answers softly.

Her eyes light on the sorcerer with a sort of predatory glee that instantly sets Gale’s teeth on edge.

“You are infected, but showing no signs of cerebral impairment?  Fascinating.  Either your tadpole is special, or you are.  We must find out which.”  A pause.  “Though as Khou’zal’s experiment you are rather unique in your own right.  An interesting specimen for study either way.”

Gale catches a barely there movement out of the corner of his eye as Astarion unobtrusively slides a hand towards his daggers, a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying his unease at the doctor’s interest in X’aa’nath.

“To the zaith’isk.  I will ensure that you are cured.”  She claps her hands, urging them towards a device made of twisted flesh and pockmarked metal.  “Few ever experience the zaith’isk.  You are very lucky, kin.”

A strange magic, cold and alien, emanates from the device.  Gale stays a safe distance away, unnerved, Astarion at his side.  Lae’zel and X’aa’nath have no such qualms, staring at the device with an almost reverent fascination.

 “The zaith’isk.  Vlaakith’s purity, distilled.  My duty.  My right,” she murmurs.

X’aa’nath’s gaze flickers uncertainly between her and the machine, but he ultimately bows his head in respect and takes a small step away.  “Go ahead, kin.  You’ve earned it.” 

“Praise Vlaakith, let it be done.”

“Sit, child.”  The doctor urges Lae’zel to lay back onto the machine.  “Let the zaith’isk end your suffering.”

“Why do that sound ominous?” Astarion whispers to Gale.  The wizard just shakes his head, trying to calm his mounting anxiety. 

“You must focus on the parasite at all times.  The zaith’isk will do the rest,” the doctor continues, making a few small adjustments to the machine. 

Without warning a nearly blinding light flashes through the room as the zaith’isk groans to life.  X’aa’nath falls to his knees, hands clutched in his hair as he cries out in unison with Lae’zel.  Wariness of the alien machine forgotten, Gale moves next to X’aa’nath holding him tight as he screams in gith.  

“Vlaakith tavki na’zin.  Vlaakith tavki na’zin!”

“Yes, children!  Speak the Tla’ket!  Meditate on its verses!” the doctor cries gleefully.

“What the hells is happening to them?” Astarion demands, shouting to be heard above the roar of the machine and the giths’ pained cries.

“I don’t know!” Gale responds helplessly.

“Isn’t that your job?  To know things?”

Lae’zel screams again, thrashing against the machine.  X’aa’nath shakes in Gale arms and trickles of blood leak from his nostrils.  Despite their obvious pain, both continue to chant in gith, entreating their queen in to cure them.

“So… we’re just going to stand here and let it kill them?  Is that our plan?” Astarion asks, beginning to panic.

So close to X’aa’nath, Gale feels the artefact he carries stir to life.  Faint vibrations radiate from the artefact, and a droning buzz soon drowns out the other chaos in the room.  The zaith’isk shakes and rattles ominously, the light surrounding it now painful to look at.  Gale realizes what’s happening with only seconds to spare; he shoves X’aa’nath flat to the ground, shielding him with his body at the zaith’isk explodes.

Thankfully Lae’zel is thrown free from the worst of the wreckage; Astarion helps her up as Gale carefully wipes the worst of the blood away from X’aa’nath’s face with a clean handkerchief before helping him stagger to her feet.

“What madness is this?  The zaith’isk nearly destroyed me!” Lae’zel shrieks.  “I am githyanki!  I will not be ghaik!”

The doctor lets out a screech of anguish.  “No… no!  The zaith’isk!  What have you done?  My life’s work… gone.  And yet she lives… and so does her parasite.”

“The zaith’isk tried to kill Lae’zel,” X’aa’nath slurs, holding onto Gale’s arm for balance.  “And it failed.

“The zaith’isk does not fail.”  The doctor glares at him.  “The only variable in the experience was her – and her parasite.  And I will uncover how this happened.  Wait here.  I will gather my tools.”  The doctor storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Clearly agitated, Lae’zel begins to pace.  “I followed protocol.  I kept to my faith.  And yet the zaith’isk might have killed me.  The ghustil tampered with it.  Traitor – and there may be more still!  This must be why the Inquisitor has come.”

“Kin,” X’aa’nath sighs, leaning heavily against Gale.  The wizard tentatively wraps an arm around his waist, pressing the sorcerer close to his side.

“No!  Vlaakith does not abandon her faithful!  The zaith’isk was tampered with.  There is no other explanation.  Now hurry.  We must go to the ch’r’rai and inform him of the doctor’s sedition.”

X’aa’nath’s shoulders sag as he recognizes the futility of arguing with her.  “As you say, kin.”

“I don’t want to alarm anyone,” Astarion calls out as he tries to open the door that exits the doctors laboratory.  “But we’ve been locked in.”

[academic-vampire]

You guys know that part in books or movies where after the big fight scene one character is hiding their major injury and then just collapses at one point all dramatic?

Yeaaaahhhh well that’s the type of energy I bring to the function 😎

[my-own-walker]

hi again lmao, can you please make an imagine where you have your first time with warren lipka (evan as him and female pronouns please )?? thank u sm

note: with peace and love, i know warren is a pretty darkly written/intense character with like a lot of baggage but in keeping with the theme of the reader's first time I'm gonna write him as a total sweet softie. no hate to people who write him that way, bc i eat it up every time, but yeah.

warnings: sm*t,

+++

The rain fell heavily on my windows, near gale-force winds roaring by outside. I always loved thunderstorms. I found I could only truly relax when the weather was at its most chaotic. Bad weather had always just seemed like a good excuse to do nothing.

And there was no one I enjoyed doing nothing with better than Warren. He and I were friends since childhood. Our birthdays were in the same month of the same year. Our moms met while pregnant. Joined some group of pregnant ladies that were pregnant together and due around the same time. Warren was just four days older than me. We had tons of play dates as kids.

I’ve always loved him. Even from our days in diapers. The way in which I loved him changed over the years, but sandbox love never dies. The underlying love I had for him was something born out of childhood that retained its youthful innocence. The blushing, bashful, feet-kicking, hair-twirling desire that permeates even schoolyard crushes.

Growing together and apart and then together again meant that no matter what, we could depend on one another. We went to the same pre-school, survived the perils of public school together-ish, then proceeded to go to the same college.

His mother was thoroughly convinced we’d get married someday. ‘It’s fate,’ she’d say. I wanted to be his someday. I never broached the topic with him, though. After countless ‘like a sister’ comments throughout high school, I didn’t dare suggest being something more to him. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be his someday. And I wouldn’t dare jeopardise our friendship for the fulfillment of some ancient crush.

But as the rain fell, surrounded in my blankets, laying next to Warren, listening to music, I couldn’t help but realize the feeling was becoming too much to bear.

He was always at my campus apartment. He hated living at home. We were so totally comfortable with each other, he practically lived with me.

He lay there, unmoving, on my bed. Just inches away from me. His eyes were cast at the ceiling, staring off into whatever daydream he fancied. The rain was also his favorite. ‘Karma Police’ by Radiohead began playing over the small speakers. Warren groaned loudly.

‘God, Y/N, enough of this miserable shit! Why do you only listen to like, the world’s saddest music?’ he whined. ‘Give me your iPod.’

‘You’re such a drama queen,’ I sighed, rolling my eyes as I chucked the device in his direction. He caught it clumsily and laughed in triumph when he switched the song.

‘Sweeter Memories’ by Todd Rundgren played.

‘That’s an out-of-the-box pick,’ I smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. ‘You feeling some sappy 70s shit?’ He didn’t reply. I smacked him lightly on his stomach.

‘What?’ he exclaimed, feigning annoyance.

‘You like ignoring me?’ I laughed.

‘It’s only my favorite pastime,’ he snarked.

‘Yeah? Ignore this,’ I challenged, lurching to jab at his sides with my fingers. He jumped and sat up abruptly, turning to get me back. I squealed and scrambled to get out of bed before he could reach me, but it was no avail. He grabbed me around my waist and began to tickle my sides, rendering me utterly helpless. I succumbed to my own laughter and melted into his touch.

We ended up a collapsed heap on my bed, Warren hovering just above me as we both giggled. Sobering, he looked me in the eyes before lowering himself to kiss me. At first a soft, closed-mouth kiss, slowly morphed into something more passionate. Without warning, he pried himself from me, sitting up at the edge of the bed, turned away from me.

‘God, I’m sorry,’ he breathed. ‘That was…’

‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I interrupted.

‘No, man, I think I just took advantage of you or something. I’m sorry,’ he gushed, hands flailing defeatedly as he spoke.

‘Warren, it was okay I promise,’ I insisted.

‘I just, like sometimes, I’m just being stupid,’ he stammered. ‘I feel like I’ve just been wanting to do that.’ A hot flush came to my cheeks. Waves of heat on my face indicated just how much I had been needing to hear him say that.

‘Really? Because me too,’ I replied, almost soundlessly. He turned to face me slowly, an unreadable expression painted on his face. I froze and began chewing the nail on my thumb.

For some relevant context, I had really never even been kissed. Warren was a seasoned veteran in the world of relationships and physical touch. I, I guess subconsciously, had been waiting for Warren for years. So, in turn, it rendered me a hopeless romantic and a college-aged virgin. He was the one I wanted, so I never pursued anything with anyone else.

'Are you sure?' Warren spoke, breaking my train of thought. Instead of replying, I sat up on the bed to meet his lips and began kissing him again. He pushed me back down, positioning himself to be on top of me. ‘You okay?’

I didn’t even realize I had tensed up a bit.

‘I’m good I’m just…new to this,’ I breathed, punctuating my sentence with a small laugh.

‘Oh god, I didn’t even, I totally forgot you’ve never…’ he stammered. ‘I can take it slow.’

‘If you can’t walk, then run,’ I replied. ‘I’ve never been one to take things slow.’

His lips reconnected with mine. I reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged at it to indicate that I wanted it off. He adjusted himself to help me slide the fabric over his head. He laughed and shook his head.

‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ he chuckled.

‘Warren, shut up,’ I scolded.

He pulled my sweatshirt over my head, leaving me in just my bra and shorts. I felt weirdly exposed. I laid there, not entirely sure what to do with myself, where to put my hands, all of that. Warren took the liberty of taking his pants off himself, probably knowing I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it for him.

I felt his hot breath caress my chest as he peppered kisses all over my breasts, just above my bra. Goosebumps covered my skin. I had never felt anything like this. I just wanted him in every sense of the word. I guided his hand to the waistband of my shorts. He got the hint and pulled them off swiftly, beginning to kiss my thighs and tummy.

My stomach turned. As much as I wanted this, I couldn’t help but be a little scared. Warren looked up briefly and must have seen the look on my face. He softened and returned his attention to my face. The eye contact calmed my nerves, allowing me to give him the go-ahead to take things all the way.

He slowly pulled off my underwear and lined himself up with my entrance. I kept looking into his eyes to steady myself, and before I knew it, he was inside of me. I gasped quietly at the pressure.

‘Okay?’ he grunted. I nodded in reply. He pushed further into me, taking care not to hurt me. Tears rushed to my eyes. It was such a strange feeling. Warren hit his stride. Knowing my limit, he began to thrust rhythmically. At first, I wasn’t sure if I liked it. But after a bit, I began to relax into him and feel the pleasure and warmth of the experience.

I screwed my eyes shut and moaned slightly. Two things I had no control over. Warren moaned, too, seemingly pleased with my reaction. It wasn’t long before he came.

‘My god,’ I sighed, feeling a a sense of relief that was entirely unique and new. Warren, who had crashed down onto the bed next to me, panted heavily.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,’ he murmured.

‘What?’

‘It’s always been you,’ he continued. ‘I’ve always wanted you.’

‘Warren, there’s no way. I’ve always wanted you,’ I said, shocked.

‘I just thought, I don’t know, you saw us as just friends, or something. Nothing more,’ he elaborated.

‘That’s what I thought you felt,’ I replied.

‘Guess we just needed to talk it out,’ he smirked. He pulled me in closer to him, guiding my head to rest on his chest. Experiencing this side of him was something I’d always wanted, and I was in such disbelief that it was all happening so fast.

Listening to his breathing even out, my heart swelled at the dream I was now living.

+++

I think this sucks but I’m not sure LMAO. I just like Warren a lot and I picture him being very soft in private idk. Thank you again for the request!

[gh0st-lie]

UGH, He's such a drama queen I love him

Mod: SR Legacies - Clothing and Armor Suit for All and Epilogue Replacer (Gale) on Nexus