#a nightmare but this is pre much the same

[kerosene-in-a-blender]

One thing about Orym saying that he can't put down the lens he sees the world with is that he's completely correct, he's always going to be viewing the moon plot and the conflict with the Ruby Vanguard from the perspective of "a guy whose husband and father were murdered by the Vanguard", but the same could be said about the rest of the party. They all have pre-existing experiences and attitudes that have shaped their perspective on things. Orym isn't uniquely biased in this sense.

The most obvious one is of course Imogen, as her long-absent mother is a Vanguard general. She heard Liliana's voice in her Ruidusborn nightmares telling her to run as long as she had those nightmares, and she came to associate that with her mother trying to protect her from whatever the red storm was. It resulted in Imogen giving a lot of grace to Liliana once she found out she was alive and with the Vanguard, a grace that more recent experiences are now making Imogen start to believe was misplaced, but a grace that was born over what she considered her mother's voice to be for years.

Fearne was raised in relative isolation in the Feywild by Nana Morri, and as result her approach to a lot of the events she's now embroiled in has an oddly naive slant to it. The whole would is new to her and she's approaching it like someone who is new to it; there's a lack of understanding of implications that she has that goes beyond her simply being fey. This is best seen in how she's grappling with the reveal that Sorrowlord Zathuda is her biological father. She's aware that Zathuda is terrible and that the circumstances that led up to her birth are dubious but there's also a large part of her that desires a connection with him as her parent and feels like they could have a relationship. She's naive to what exactly she is to him, and also influenced by having grown up longing for the parents that left her with Morri.

Ashton lost their parents and found themself blown halfway across the world after a cult ritual went wrong, and had a spectacularly shitty life that he often found himself begging the gods to fix without answer, and as a result he's very down on the idea of gods and even more down on the idea of letting a cult do whatever they want in order to achieve the perfect world that is just beyond reach by whatever means they must. Especially after the entire shard debacle in which Ashton learned that their parents were definitely wrong to do what they did and there were no good ends for the means that they engaged in he's fallen even harder onto the line of, as he said himself, "I hope her ends are fucking great because these means are just not forgivable."

Laudna's sole experience with anything resembling a higher power for much of her 50-odd-years of life has been Delilah Briarwood, the woman who had her horrifically murdered and is still rather explicitly using her as a means to some unknowable-to-Laudna end. This has both made her one of the members of Bells Hells most open to the idea of there being no gods (no more puppet masters) but also the most broadly sympathetic towards Liliana's view of the Ruidusborn (that they are creations of Predathos with no choice but to be slaves to his whims). Her ardent belief that her lift ended on the Sun Tree thirty years ago also means that she often refuses to advocate for herself or her own needs, resulting in moments where she openly wonders if it's Imogen's destiny to join the Vanguard, despite having herself been at one point brutally murdered by a Vanguard general.

FCG made it his mission in life to help people; that desire drove a lot of what he did up to and including his final act of sacrifice for the Hells. They saw the people struggling against the Vanguard and with the world that the Vanguard created and chose to do what they could to help them. Their desire to help even extended towards the gods, as one of the first things they asked of the Changbringer upon gaining the ability to cast Commune was, "Do you need help?". FCG was also a character driven by a desperate desire to find purpose and to understand the "why" of their own existence, a desire that ultimately drove them towards religion as a means of shaping the meaning of his life, and made him the most openly religious member of the group up to the moment of his death.

Chetney, while the most able to look beyond his own biases by virtue of being the oldest and most emotionally mature member of the party, still carries with him the perspective of having been someone who ultimately made little impact on the world up until, in his twilight years, random chance granted him the power to affect change. He gained lycanthrophy, he met other adventurers in the Hells, and got caught up in an end of the world plot and is finally making a true difference in the world. It's made him, arguably, the most enthusiastic adventurer in the party because he views that adventure itself as a gift, and as a way to create a legacy. The desire of legacy is also the reason he made the bargain that he did with Nana Morri; to secure a legacy as a famous toymaker that would persist after he is gone.

Orym's right that he's biased, but it's fallacious to assume that an unbiased perspective exists, because everyone in the story has their lens through which they view the world that they can't put down, not just Orym.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

full hcs for what post-route m6 would say if they got to talk to pre-memory loss mc for a few minutes?

The Arcana HCs: Post-Route M6 get 10 minutes with Pre-Memory Loss MC

Julian

He's sorry

There's a lot more he wants to say, but he begins with a stream of apologies when the person in front of him isn't the investigator who became his ally, but the assistant he failed to protect

He's not proud of it, but for a moment he feels himself slip back into who he used to be

Someone whose value lay solely in how useful he could be to someone else, self-hatred creeping back in like an estranged family member when he sees how useless he was to you

But the you from back then, standing in the middle of the plague and seeing someone stronger, better-fed, less sleep-deprived, the you from back then can see that he's grown. He's happy

The you from back then only seems to want to know if the plague you died trying to make up for had a cure, and if the doctor you lost your life assisting was ever able to find it

And he did. Twice. Without having to prove himself to anyone

Asra

Oh, how they used to miss this version of you

There's so much running through his head. On the surface, it's the first and only chance he's really had to see the difference between who you were when he lost you and who you are now

But deeper, it's the wave of phantom pains, pulling them under and back to when they would've given anything to see this version of you again, when they waded through hell to get you back

And the fear, flashing up from an underlying simmer, that the you then and the you now are so irreconcilably different that there's only one of you he can truly love

As they fold you into the kind of hug that only old friends share, the first difference they notice is that your heart doesn't beat in time with theirs the way they're used to - and it's their revelation

He had enough love in his heart for who you were - and it grew to love you back into his life - and more again to hold both of you in the current one. He has enough for every piece of who you are

Nadia

She's ... humbled, a little

The you that she knows and loves now is someone who has faced down the terrifying and illogical with her, who has supported her through the rejuvenation of an entire city

But the person standing in front of her reminds her more of the person who first walked in through the Palace gates

You're ... normal

Not in a bad way at all, but - you look like every other citizen her carriage passes on her way through the streets. She's reminded all over again how important seeing you in her dream was

Because if you hadn't been pointed out to her, if your first proper meeting hadn't been you freeing her from three years of nightmare plagued sleep, she would have never thought to seek you out

So when the you from the past seems surprised to see the elusive Countess, not nearly as well-known as her extravagant husband

All she really wants to do is thank you by showing you your worth

Muriel

Well. This is awkward. And that's coming from him

There's a well of emotions swirling in him as he looks at you, at the you that Asra left the hut to live with, at the you that took his only found family from him, at the you he came to resent

Because if the worst he can see when he looks at you is someone who captured more of his friend's attention than he did -

What do you see when you look at him?

The you from the past wouldn't have known him when he was retired and forgotten, the you from the past would've known him when he was a gladiator

Or more accurately, when he was the Count's executioner

He's not sure it's good for either of you to be looking at each other

But he can't turn away, and that's because not only do you not seem to be afraid of him, you won't stop looking at him

Your gaze feels the same. Exposing. Open. And though this one is considerably less affectionate - safe, somehow

Portia

She is both starstruck and deeply disappointed

Starstruck because the person she's looking at seems a lot more put together than who you are now, if a little less ... developed

Your magic hovers around you like an old friend and your eyes seem a little more sure about where they want to look

And that's exactly why she's also a little disappointed

Because you aren't like the person she loves now in that way. Who you are now is always looking, always soaking up the world around you like a sponge, because so much of it is still new to you

And nothing seems new to the past you - not even her

She's so happy to take your hands in hers and ask you all about who you've been and collect all the stories and fill in all the gaps she can, to better know how you got to where you are now

And then when the visit's over, she'll happily wave goodbye and walk forward to who you are now

But not without a word of encouragement to her darling first

Lucio

Oh. Ohhh boy

You see, he was fortunate to meet you when you knew fairly little enough to encounter him with an open mind. By the time you learned about his horrible past, you knew his present self

But past you ... past you seems to know quite a bit more

And he doesn't like the way you look at him

There's an edge of uneasiness to the way he plasters on a smile and loudly calls your name, only to be met with a gaze that's polite at best

You're not supposed to be polite to him, you're supposed to love him, to want him, to admire him when he's done good and call him out when he's done bad and forgive him when he tries to do better

At the same time, this is the version of you whose death he knows he's responsible for. It makes him wonder if he's a bad person for being relieved that you changed before meeting him

He'll be happy to leave - but he does manage an apology, first

[pathsofoak]

I've discovered Scriveners keyword option and finally there's a good way to keep track of when Thomas can/can't talk

[neverwear]

PRESALE UP NOW!

This beautiful watercolor print of a painting of The Corinthian by fav artist David Mack is now available at the pre-sale price of $25.00 for the next few days.

 (presale over on Tuesday May 1, 2024- where it will go up to $35 at midnight ET. We are also offering a $5 off code below for you to use on anything on the Neverwear site)

Printed in the heart of Hollywood, California on luxurious pearlescent stock in the same size as the other Sandman characters, 8.5" x 11"

A limited run of 750, all unsigned for now. 

Will come with a matching 4" x 6" sticker while supplies last.

I remember reading Neil's comic about this magical nightmare and having real chills at the mouth eyes...! 

Enter this code at check out to get a crisp five dollars off entire order: TEETH

www.neverwear.net

Thank you so much, we will be donating funds to a kitten rescue we follow on Instagram, @HeidiWranglesCats-- she is doing some amazing work on the streets of Brooklyn, NY.

[victoria-grimesss]

Nightmare

masterlist

->Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

->Words: 2.2K

->Warning: MDNI!! pre-established relationship, angst, death, smut, PinV , oral fem!receiving.

->Summary: A particularly bad nightmare scars Ghost. He draws you closer as you help piece him back together.

Simon got nightmares a lot. They were frequent and usually contained the same things, nightmarish battlefield conditions that would shake anyone to their core. He would wake up in a cold sweat, the sheets clinging to him uncomfortably. His bed would be empty until he had met you.

You changed his life, the good parts and the bad.

You were like a little ray of sunshine that brightened his life. His walls in his home were blank and barren, he never cared enough to decorate. But you brought paintings of beautiful landscapes and fresh plants dotted the surfaces of the tables.

Each morning the smell of coffee and tea would grace the air and you would draw the curtains, allowing fresh air and light into the home. He would find you and wrap his arms around your waist, two mugs side by side one of each of your preferred drinks. You always made his just right.

He would kiss your neck and his hands would travel from your hips down your thighs and all the way back up to cup your breasts. He loved how soft you felt under his hands, how willing you were for his touch. He would drag you back to bed, or if he's incredibly impatient he would have his way with you on the kitchen counter.

Simon is a gracious and giving lover, he would spend hours between your thighs, he would practically get off on getting you off. He would hold your legs open and get drunk off of your taste.

He was truly home when he was with you, when he is with you.

---

He had a particularly bad nightmare one night, tourtorous.

He was scouring the battlefield, there were bodies and blood everywhere. This was a shit mission and he knew it. Felt it in his gut but no one listened. No one let you sit it out either.

He yelled your name, tripping on rubble that was still hot from the explosion. The sky was orange and dust coated the ground, heatwaves visible in the horizon. It was so hot and muggy, his mask was stuck to him.

You were here somewhere and he would die finding you if he had to, he couldn't leave you. The coms cracked to life calling him back to retreat but he didn't listen. They told him to leave you, you were gone but he didn't listen.

He heard a shifting in the rubble, a moan and the sound of gear moving.

"Y/N?"

"Simon, over here."

Your voice was harsh, dust coating your throat and a nasty knock to your head making it hard to see straight.

He stumbled over a large slab of concreate and collapsed at your feet, a sizable piece of concreate staircase was on your leg and he looked you over frantically, his eyes blown wide with your state.

"Are you hurt?"

He almost laughed if he could right now, you're pinned under a rock, now dry blood coating your arm and neck and you ask if he's ok.

"Yea I'm alright love. Let's get you home ok?"

"I can't feel my leg Simon, I can't walk you have to go."

He's furious, mad that this mission was allowed to happen with how dodgy it was.

"Like fucking hell I'll leave you here, I'll carry you if I have to."

He manages to just lift it enough to scoot your leg out of from under and it was sight. Crushed to all hell, bent in places it shouldn't be and it made him sick to see you like this.

"They're going to have to cut it off huh." You huff a laugh, obviously trying to deflect the severity of the situation.

"Probably. You'll get some hefty chest candy though and you'll get a nice vacation alright. I'll be there right with ya."

He lifts you into his arms, taking care not to move your leg too much, the wince that coats your face hurts him.

The walk is brutal, downed soldiers surround him for miles and the evac chopper just seemed to get further the closer he got like some sick joke.

Then a bang sounded, almost from thin air and he's frantically checking around him, he's stood on top of a large slab of displaced highway, the landscape stretches for miles and the sun is so hot and he's exposed.

"Simon."

He looks down at you and his breathing stops at the sight of fresh blood blooming from your chest, you cough and it comes from your mouth.

No. no. god please no, not you.

He puts his hand on your wound and applies pressure, he drops to his knees, and you grip his arm, the pain making you cry out and tears bloom in his eyes.

"You're alright love, I've got you. Just- just stay awake for me yea?"

The contrast from the sweat in his mask mixing with his tears make his skin burn and he rips his mask off to breath because he can't. breath. You're dying in his arms and he can't breath.

"I love you so much Simon. So, fucking much." You cough and more blood seeps from your mouth as you speak.

"Don't fucking say that you're not dying here alright not like this. You deserve better."

"You're a good man Simon."

He's crying now, the black paint on his face smudging and he kisses your forehead and then your lips, he feels you draw your last breath on his lips and exhale into him, he inhales your last breath and it hits him then.

"Y/N?"

"Love?"

He brushes the sticky hair from your face, your eyes are void of any life. He wants to pluck your soul from wherever it has travelled and put it back into you. Bring you back to him and cease the pain he feels, the pain that will always be there now.

He grips you tightly in his arms, rocking your body, your hand that gripped his arms falls limply to your side and he draws it back to him holding you as close as he can.

"Please don't do this. Don't leave please love I need you; I can't do this without you." He gasps because he still can't breathe.

His name dances in the air, once then twice. Like your spirit is calling to him.

Then he breaths.

He sits up fully in the bed, gasping and heart racing.

Your hand is on his chest, your eyes wide as you try to soothe him.

"It's ok, you're alright. You're safe at home."

His arms are around you; he embraces you in a crushing hug, his hand wraps into your hair as he inhales you shampoo. His other hand grips the small of your back holding you as close as he can.

"It was you. You died. Felt so fucking real."

"Oh Simon. I'm alright, see everything is ok."

You sit there for a while holding one another, until tears are dried and hearts are calmed.

Eventually Simon's hands move to brush the hair away from your neck and his lips place soft kisses and bites into the skin, relishing in your soft sighs.

"I really thought you were gone. Thought I'd never get to hold you like this again, touch you again."

He strips you of the sleep shirt you wear and cups your breast, kneading the soft skin in his palm.

"Never get to have you underneath me again."

Your breathing has picked up and you grip at his shoulder, still slightly sticky from the sweat but the way the light from outside hits him makes him out to be some kind of Greek stature carved from stone.

You're moved underneath him and he continues kissing you from jawline down to your chest where he takes one nipple into his mouth, holding the other one in his hand.

Your hands run through his short hair, lip in-between your teeth as you watch him.

"Simon, please."

"None of that tonight. I'm going to take my time on you, just lay back and let me have you."

Your hips try to buck from under him but his abdomen hold you steady. A hand snakes it's way down to your hips and his hand finds itself under the waistband, gripping the skin and flesh like his life depends on it. Like if he doesn't grip you hard enough you'll die.

As he kisses down your stomach he slides the panties down your legs at an agonizingly slow rate and you yearn to just grab him and bring him back up to you.

He throws the panties over his shoulder and kisses from your ankle back up to your inner thigh. He nips and sucks at each side, he kisses right around where you need him and he smirks are your impatience.

"Look at you, fuck. You're soaked. You want something?"

"Yes, fuck just hurry up."

"What was that? Didn't quite hear you right."

He's just awful when he takes things slow. You groan.

"Simon please."

"One more time, say it again."

"Simon please, god please just use your mouth."

"Atta girl."

He licks a long hot strip from bottom to top and you throw your head back. He moans into you, the vibration aiding in your arousal as you grow wetter and wetter.

"You always taste so good, you know that. Can never get enough of this."

He sucks and licks and your hands are woven into his hair pulling and pushing.

His hands are wrapped about your legs and you can't keep still so he wraps his hands around your hips holding you closer to his face and keeping your hips steady.

"Cmon, I can feel you getting closer, c'mon pretty girl go ahead."

Your breathing is so fast and you moan and thrash in his grip but he's got you locked down. The view you have is ungodly hot. His big arms wrapped around you, his mouth making noises against you that make you clench around nothing. And his back is exposed, the muscles highlighted by the moonlight, they flex and you plead for him to just fuck you already.

"Cum on my face and I'll fuck you, just give me this one and I'll seat myself deep inside you, need you soaked so you can take me all the way."

His words spur you on and you coat and grind on his face, he welcomes it and grips your hips tighter letting you ride your high and use him. He kisses his way back up and you taste yourself on his lips, he holds you face in both hands and holds you until you're both out of breath.

"Can you pretty please fuck me now." You whisper into this mouth, he shivers, his pupils blown wide.

"You ask so nicely how can I say no." His mouth meets yours deeply and he rips himself of his briefs and holds himself against your entrance, your wetness being more than enough to aid his entrance.

You gasp and he groans as he enters you, every inch feeling hot and hard as his mouth leaves blooming purple bruises on your neck.

He sits for a minute just holding himself fully inside you and enjoying how warm you are wrapped around him.

"So tight around me. I'll never get tired of fucking you. You're so beautiful underneath me."

He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses your cheek. Your arms wrap around his neck and his movements are slow. He's methodical with his hips, he moves out slowly almost all the way just leaving the tip in until he thrust back in just as slow.

His arms cage you in and all you can see is him, you smell him, you hear him, and you feel him. With eyes locked he expresses all of his love for you in his movements. A lot of the time your join sessions are loud and fast but this one. This one is different. So full of love and passion. He's replacing that nightmare of you dying with you underneath him filled to the brim with him.

"Do you want to get married?"

You clench around him and he smiles, you're stunned by his question.

"Simon- are you proposing right now?" Your words shake as you slowly approach the peak.

"No. Just asking if it's something you want to do. Would you want to marry me?"

You grip his hair just a bit tighter.

"I do."

"Yeah? Yeah, I'd marry you too. Show everyone you're mine forever. Put a pretty ring on your finger so you can show it off."

You clench around him again and his pace quickens just a bit.

"Keep you safe, call you my wife. My pretty wife. You want that?"

You're reaching your climax and claw at his scalp.

"Yes Simon, please."

"Cum on my cock and I'll marry you. Be a good girl."

You both reach the end at the same time, stars and tension gripping you until you both grow slack and his full weight is on you.

Your hands run through his hair and you scratch softly at his neck and back, soothing him as you did when he woke up.

"Did you mean that?" You voice is just a whisper but it is heard over his ragged breathing.

"I saw you die. It won't happen again, not until we're both old as hell. And when you die you'll die my wife. I don't plan to drag it out any longer."

You smile and kiss his cheek, he holds you and finally he dreams of something better.

[cursedhaglette]

Thrice Before Dawn

She thought he was having a nightmare, so naturally, she thought she was helping. Opening the tent flap, she's surprised to find something entirely unexpected.

Rating: E Word Count: 2,900 Content: 18+, oral sex, PIV sex, male masturbation, squirting

[ao3 link]

Halia takes last watch, preparing to guard over the camp until dawn breaks over the horizon, sketchbook in hand. It’s been ages since she’d been able to take the time to draw or journal, either tied up in other things that needed doing while she kept watch or simply too exhausted to do anything but stare off into the darkness. 

She opens the book to where she’d left off, finding the page she’d marked to be the one she’d filled with sketches of Astarion. She can’t help her cringe as she looks over her work. It’s not bad by any means, as far as her ruined mind can tell, but since they’d spent the night together out in the forest a tenday ago, things between them had grown strange and tense. 

Gone was the playful flirtation, the long, charged stares, and the touches that lingered just a bit longer than could be called casual. She kept telling herself it was fine, he wasn’t obligated to want her just because they’d slept together. Though, truth be told, she very much wanted to repeat the experience - she wanted him to like her, to want her, more than she felt she should. 

Blasted, handsome vampire. 

Sighing to herself, she turns the page, trying to think if anything notable had occurred in the last couple days that might be worth jotting down. The same thing day after day, fights and hiking and threats of death or the end of the world. At least they were almost to the creche, which might prove interesting or different.

Across camp, she hears a muffled groan and she snaps up at the sound. Scanning the tents surrounding the dying embers of the campfire, she tries to make out if anything is out there - hunting them in the darkness.. 

There is…nothing to be seen though. Only darkness and then - a grunt followed by something almost like a muffled whimper. 

Halia stands, tip-toeing across camp and approaching each tent, praying that without her usual armor and robes she can stay quiet enough to catch whatever had snuck up on them before it caught onto her. At least everyone was nearby to aid her, should it be something truly deadly. 

She doesn’t hear anything again until she finds herself before the last tent - Astarion’s. Then there’s rustling sounds, and another groan almost like he might be…dreaming? Or rather, having a nightmare, she guessed. It wouldn’t be the first time hearing him toss and turn, tortured by the memories of his awful past even while trancing. 

Is it appropriate to check on him? They’ve gotten to know each other well enough and she hardly wants him to suffer through whatever was going on in his trance, but she knows he can sensitive to such vulnerabilities. 

Biting her lip and bouncing on her heels, she tries to decide what she ought to do, and then there’s another muffled groan and acts.

The tent flap swings wide, held open by her hand, and time seems to slow. It wasn’t what she’d expected to find - Astarion tortured by a nightmare, curled on his side and whimpering for her to wake him from the horrors. 

He lays flat on his back, one hand pressing into his forehead and something in his mouth, an attempt to muffle the noise he was making, if Halia had to guess. His shirt was pulled up enough to reveal part of his chiseled torso, but her eyes didn’t linger there.

He was fucking up into his hand, his hips thrusting eagerly and cock weeping pre-cum that glistened in the low light creeping in through the open tent flap. She’s seen it before but like this, Gods, it was like a work of art.

He’s suckling on a rag, which Halia realizes quickly was bloody and - Gods, was that what she’d used to clean up her bloody wound from the fight earlier in the day? How had he…?

She can't move - entirely transfixed as she watches his muscles flexing into another hip thrust, the curve of his glutes visibly working even in the low light. Her breath catches in her throat and she’s trying to process the immediate want that heats her blood at the sight before her, catches his attention and finally, Astarion turns to look.

His ruby eyes widen as he looks over his favorite warlock, and then he smirks, studying how she blushes while he lazily strokes his cock once more - holding her gaze as he works his precum around his shaft. 

“Fuck, oh Gods, I’m so sorry,” Halia mumbles, finally turning away before she can stare any longer, and manages to shut the tent flap with all the urgency she could muster before hurrying away. She wants to stay, of course she does. She wants to watch and taste and touch and moan with him. But if he wants that, she knows she would have been invited. 

“Leaving so soon?”

Halia half turns at the question, already several paces from his tent and thinking of a million ways to apologize for her intrusion but coming up short. He catches her quickly and holds his loose trousers up in one hand, the other snaking around her middle and holding her fast against him. His cold hand sends a chill through her skin, still warm from the fire and encouraging that blazing want that’s settled in her core at the sight of him so unguarded - alone, whimpering, eager. 

“Didn’t enjoy the show, darling?” The question is pressed into her neck, and she knows he delights in the goosebumps that immediately appear under his cool breath. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers without turning to face him. “I thought you might be having a nightmare or…I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“And you didn’t think to wait and make sure I was alright?” He tuts in her ear, his mouth so close she can feel the way it curls into a smile. “So cruel.”

She took in a deep inhale of breath, unsure of what to do with herself as his hand tightened around her waist, tugging her closer to him. He’s still hard, despite his cock being stowed in his trousers, and Halia has to resist the wanton urge to grind against him in the middle of the still sleeping camp. 

“Perhaps you’d like to come help me…get back to sleep,” he murmurs before taking one earlobe between his teeth and nipping gently. His hand crests lower, teasing the waistline of her loose camp pants and moving so slowly towards where he knows she wants him.

“Only -” she pauses as he kisses her neck, humming in approval as his hand dips lower, finally touching at her core. She knows she’s already soaked, the sight of him fucking into his own hand, cock glistening with precum, had immediately drenched her. Now Astarion knows it too. 

“Only if you want me,” Halia stammers, biting her lip as a single, cold finger dances across her clit. 

“Oh my dear, I believe you’ve already seen how badly I want you tonight,” a second finger joins the first, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against her. Astarion huffs a smug laugh as she bites her lip, holding back a whimper of desperation and pleasure. “Come with me.”

And then, Astarion’s hands are gone - a hollow ache left where he’d been. She can’t help but follow him back to his tent, called by the pleasure she knows can be found within. The mess of blankets and open books welcome her, as does the smell of him - earth and spice and whatever perfumed oil he uses to make his skin smell like heaven made flesh. 

The flap drops behind Astarion as he moves and kneels before her, and the space goes dark, but she doesn't need any light as his hands move to the laces of her pants. He makes quick work of them and then her legs are bare and he’s teasing, and Halia knows it - knows he wants her to beg for more, for his touch or his tongue. 

“My golden, little bird,” he purrs as he nears her center, finally calling out how soaked she’s been for him since the first touch. “Look at you, such a mess. Is this all for me? All from your spying?”

Halia has to force herself not to give in to her nerves, not to wrap her arms around her waist or cover her face to hide her slowly growing blush - knowing it will only make him more smug. He likes her shameless, knowing he can pull that side of her out with each touch as she grows more desperate. 

“I wasn’t -” he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh, humming in approval when she gasps in response, her argument lost at the feeling of his lips drifting higher and higher. 

He pulls her panties down finally, one swift movement freeing her pussy for him, but he continues teasing along the edge of where real pleasure would be found and Gods if he doesn’t touch her again soon, she’s going to be reduced to begging. 

And she really doesn’t want to have to beg, it will only mean far too much smugness to deal with tomorrow if she does.

“Lay down,” he commands. When Halia does, he finally descends upon her, ready to feast. 

Astarion draws the flat his tongue up her core slowly at first, and once he reaches her clit, he pauses to softly suck and kiss at the swollen bud before licking up her again. It’s simultaneously everything and not enough, her hips rolling up as she seeks more from his practiced, wicked mouth. Each soft kiss has her whimpering, and finally he indulges her fully, sucking herr pulsing, ready clit into his mouth and plunging two fingers inside, spreading and filling her.

She desperately wants to fuck herself on his fingers, but his other hand holds fast to her hips to keep her in place while his hand continues slowly, testing how she stretches around him while his tongue dances up and down along her folds.

“If I’d known how greedy you’d be for me, I’d have you like this every night,” Halia hears in her mind, his voice echoing through the tadpole so he can taunt and tease without removing his mouth from her cunt. “I’m going to have you begging for more before I finally take you.”

“Oh Gods,” she moans, his words adding to the intensity building in her core. She can feel it building, his tongue the spark to the kindling of her want.

Astarion huffs a laugh against her soaked cunt as he curls his fingers inside her, finding a spot she’s never had stroked before and immediately makes her squirm. Halia’s legs twitch, wanting to close at the intensity of the sensation, but Astarion’s broad shoulders keep her from moving too far. 

“Keep these spread,” he chides, picking up speed. And then she’s lost in her release, covering her mouth with one hand to stifle the primal, desperate moan that tears through her chest as her body clenches around his hand. A gush comes as she rides out her climax, soaking his wicked mouth and the blankets below her. 

She’s never experienced such intense pleasure, never been so wet, but cumming so hard for him only leaves her mindless and unable to be bashful about what’s just happened. Her body just wants more, aching for the stretch of his cock and to feel the heat of his pleasure inside her.

“Good girl,” he tells her, pulling his mouth away. He wipes away the shine of her squirting release with one hand, the other firmly in place as his thumb circles her sensitive clit and fingers continue to work inside. “Can you give me a little more? Can you soak my hand again before I fuck you?”

“I want you to fuck me now,” Halia pleads, her voice thick with want and almost whining for him, every trace of resolve not to act desperate for him gone in the wake of her climax. 

“Then cum for me again, sweet thing, and you can have your fill of me.”

His thumb presses into her harder and she sees stars, the intensity of the feeling earning him a deep, guttural moan that he chuckles at. His fingers keep working inside her, and Halia can only watch as he reaches for the rag he’d used to muffle his moans and presses it into her mouth. 

“Bite down on this, love, we don’t want you waking up the whole camp, do we? I don’t intend to share your pleasure with anyone else.”

Before Halia can protest, his fingers find the rhythm she needs and her body crashes again, soaking him just as he’d asked while he continues to finger her through the peak of her pleasure. He only pulls his hand away once she’s finished clenching around him, trying to catch her breath and watching as he lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth.

He sucks her cum off himself as he undoes his pants with his other hand, groaning around the taste of her while his cock springs free. It’s still desperately hard, soaked in precum and actively leaking more. Any other night, she might have asked to taste it - to lick every drop of his precum clean and have him fuck into her mouth with abandon.She wants his hips rolling into her throat just like she’d seen him fucking into his hand. 

“Now, what was it you wanted?” he asks smugly, nudging her legs apart further and smiling at the mess he’s made. He rolls the sheath of his cock, smearing the precum as he prepared himself to fuck her. 

“I warn you, darling, I was close before you showed up the first time so I don’t know how long I’ll -” his words are quickly cut off by his own groan as the head of his heavy cock finally begins to stretch her, and Halia’s warmth welcomes him wholly.

They whimper together as he finally pushes inside, and she watches as his eyes close in pleasure, her body working to take him while he slowly presses into her. He pulls away once, twice, and then slides home, burying himself to the hilt - both of them gasping in unison at the feeling.  

Lewd, soaked sounds filled the tent with each thrust of his cock within her warm walls, hands roughly guiding her hips and core along his cock. He rips the rag from between her teeth, replacing it with a deep, bruising kiss before taking her tongue in his mouth and sucking on it.

“Fuck, Halia, it’s like you were made to take me,” Astarion says, pulling away from her lips but reaching forward to take one nipple between his fingers and twisting enough to make her clench around him, earning her a satisfied huff. 

“Please,” she whines, closer to oblivion with every passing moment that he spends inside her,  “please, more, more -”

His hips roll harder, each slam driving deeper into her and she sees stars, unsure if she’ll be able to walk again after he’s done with her. She knows she isn’t technically his, but if he asked her in that moment, she’d give him everything - entirely undone by the pleasure he’s offered her.

“So greedy for me,” he repeats with a moan, still trying to play the rake though so close to the edge himself. “My good girl, my sweet Halia, my -”

He spills inside her with a grunt before he can finish his last thought, and the abrupt warmth of him filling her is enough to send her shuddering into one final, blissful climax - milking the last few seconds of his spend deeper within her.

She pants for a moment and he nearly collapses on her, shifting to one side before reaching for the rag. He doesn’t look as he wipes at what remains of their joining on his skin, and ruby eyes meet hers in a contended gaze she’s only seen a handful of times. If her heart weren’t already racing, it would be the moment he looked at her that way. 

Dawn is on the horizon by the time Halia makes her way from the soaked bedroll and the perfect lover within, and she desperately works to calm her still thundering heart. Her knees wobble and she’s going to be sore all day, but by the Gods does she feel alive. 

She’s going to fall for him if she’s not careful - throw herself headlong into something she knows he won’t want. Even still, she can’t bring herself to regret what they’d done. She’s going to fall into the trap that is Astarion and it’s going to tear her apart and then he’s going to have her begging for more, just because he can. 

And then footsteps sound behind her and he’s there, kissing her cheek softly. 

“Come on, we should clean up before anyone wakes up,” Astarion says quietly, and she spots his blanket under his arm. 

“That was…nice,” Halia says simply, smiling at him. “Fun.”

“It’s hard not to have fun with you,” he says in return, and there’s no performance in his words. Just honesty. 

It’s the first time Halia ends her watch feeling so content. 

In fact, it might be one of the best mornings she can remember.

[strawheart-pirate]

One Bed, Two Sinners

Zoro x afab!Reader

This is my Secret Santa for @eelnoise ! Merry belated christmas, Zi! I hope you enjoy! Love you 💚

Words: 3518 CW: N!SFW / pre relationship / nightmares / comfort / kissing / smut / oral (f receiving) / piv sex / no pronouns or nicknames used

You were aboard the Polar Tang, on your way to Wano, when you anchored at a small island. Robin, Usopp, Franky, Zoro and you decide to stay in a hotel for at least one night instead of sleeping in the already cramped Polar Tang. Nothing goes as expected, and as nightmares plague your sleep, Zoro can't find it in himself to see you suffer. Will he succeed and turn your nightmares into the sweetest of dreams?

Half of the Straw Hat crew, including you, were aboard the Polar Tang on its way to Wano. When Trafalgar Law commanded to anchor for the night at a small island to get some air and supplies, you finally see your chance to sleep in a comfortable bed. No offense, the makeshift beds in one of the Polar Tang’s storage rooms are better than nothing. But escaping the cramped conditions and having a real bed for just one night was far too tempting for all of you, so the five of you decided to check into a nearby hotel. You waited outside while Robin talked to the receptionist, and once she returned, she handed each of you your key cards.

"They only had three rooms left, which means we have to pair up. I'll share a room with Franky and you could draw straws? Winner gets a room to themselves?" Robin suggested.

"Yeah, sounds fair." You said and Usopp and Zoro nodded. Franky prepared the straws and offered them to you. "Ladies first."

You hesitated for a moment before grabbing your straw. After you'd chosen yours, Zoro and Usopp chose theirs and on the count of three you all pulled your straws up.

"Yes! Finally a peaceful night!" Usopp chimed. He had drawn the shortest straw and won the game.

Zoro accepted the news with a neutral face without showing any emotion and you smiled, seeing Usopp so happy was just precious and you were happy for him. Well, until you remembered that you'd be sharing a room with Zoro. Pirate hunter Zoro, your crush for at least a year. It was only after you were all separated by Kuma that you realized your feelings. You missed everyone, but you missed him more. In a different way. And those first little feelings only intensified when you saw what a man he had become after the two years of separation. He was so much more. More handsome, more strong, more muscular. More of everything.

Unfortunately, he was not the least bit aware of you. So you kept to yourself, dreaming from afar and just being happy to be part of the same crew. You took a few deep breaths and calmed your mind as the five of you went to your rooms. It was just one night, and it's not like you need to cuddle up. The bed is big enough with two blankets and two pillows and you wouldn't even notice him. With a fluid motion, you used your card to open the door and stepped into your room.

Your smile immediately disappeared and all your worries returned. One bed. There was only one bed in the huge ass room. A single-sized bed with just one pillow and one blanket. Your eyelids twitched. Zoro pushed past you as he entered the room, his shoulder brushing yours lightly.

"Don't worry, I'll just sleep on the floor." Zoro said in his usual careless voice and sat down on the floor, right next to the door.

"No... This must be a mistake, they must have mixed up something... I guess Usopp has our room?" You felt nervous. This must be a mistake, this cannot be... You were about to go out the door again and ask Usopp, when Zoro stopped you.

"Don't. He's probably asleep by now. And like I said, I don't mind." He said with a calm voice.

"But I feel really bad being the only one who has the comfort of a bed..." I tried one last time without giving myself away. Was he for real? Even the makeshift beds in the Polar Tang were more comfortable than the floor.

"It's okay, I'm used to it. Just sleep." He said, his eyes already closed as he sat next to the door with his back to the wall and his arms crossed.

You sighed defeated. You knew he was stubborn and had his pride and there was nothing you could do to change his mind. So you went to the bathroom, changed into some more comfortable clothes and went to bed.

"Okay. Night, Zoro." You turned your back to him, getting only a light snore as an answer, and turned off the light, ready to fall asleep. You still felt bad leaving him on the floor, but there was no solution to your problem. There was no bigger bed, no second blanket, no extra pillow. You pushed those thoughts aside. It took a while, but you managed to fall asleep to Zoro's soft, rhythmic breathing.

---

It was in the middle of the night when Zoro sensed that something was wrong. He kept his eyes closed and concentrated on his surroundings, letting his haki search the entire hotel when he heard the soft whimper. When he was sure that there was nothing that could be a threat to the crew, he opened his eyes and looked at you. You were shivering and whimpering. Probably a nightmare... He guessed and thought for a moment what to do. He couldn't just walk over and wake you up. His options were limited. A silent 'please....' escaped your curled up form and he sighed. He just couldn't leave you like this.

"Hey..." He spoke at a low volume. "Hey, Y/N."

He waited a moment to see if he was successful, but then you whimpered again.

"Wake up." This time he tried a bit louder, but still softly, because he didn't want to frighten you in any way.

Again he wasn't successful. He groaned and finally stood up. Silently, he placed a chair under the doorknob for extra security. He walked over to you and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, wake up. It's just a nightmare." He tried a third time, hesitantly placing a hand on your shoulder.

The touch seemed to startle you, because you turned to face him, your hands clawing into his arm.

He took in your pained expression. There was sweat on your forehead and your knuckles were white from how hard you clawed into his skin. In another setting, your grip on him would have brought him to his knees, but right now he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. Cursing under his breath, he turned on the soft light of the lamp on the bedside table and lay down beside you. He scooped your trembling form into his arms. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear, he watched as you finally began to calm down. With a gentle movement, he wiped the sweat from your face and laid his head on top of yours, cradling you in his arms, hopefully bringing you the most comfort.

His plan finally seemed to work as your grip on his arm loosened and you stopped shaking. He looked down at you and found a delicate little smile on your lips. All right, it was time for him to get up, but he just couldn't. The way your body felt in his arms, the way your hips pressed against his and how warm you were had him under a spell he couldn't break. He knew he should go, but he was being selfish. Your whole being had fascinated him since you joined the Straw Hats, but he never had the courage to tell you how he felt. He would look like a creep if you woke up now. But the way you felt in his hands when he finally got to hold you like he had dreamed of so many times... His body reacted to yours and his breathing was slightly labored as he looked down at you, just as you opened your eyes. He froze. Shit…

---

When you opened your eyes, you found the reason for the warmth you felt right above you. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were fixed on you with an intense gaze.

"Zoro?" You whispered. When did he join you in bed?

"You had a nightmare. Are you feeling better now?" He asked, his voice an octave lower than usual and his arms not moving. He seemed frozen.

"Yes... thank you..." You replied softly, noticing the way he was holding you, the impressive size of his arms and chest, and even the reaction of his body in his pants. A slight blush made its way to your face and you shifted in his arms. Your attempt to free your body from his hard-on failed miserably and you pressed even harder against him. Zoro hissed through clenched teeth and unfroze.

"...Yeah, I'll take my leave..." Zoro dropped you as if you burned him and sat up, freeing himself from the temptation to make you his in an instant. Your hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he knew that whatever you said next would decide your future.

"Stay..." You asked him softly and heard a slight moan from the greenette. "Please..."

"Do you even know what you are asking of me?" Zoro asked as he turned to you.

The way you looked at him told him all he needed to know. He got back into bed and crawled on top of you. Slowly, gracefully, like a predator. And you were his prey, looking at him wide-eyed and frozen in the heavy anticipation of what was to come. His piercing eyes felt like they were holding you in place and you bit your lip as he looked down at you, his hands beside your head.

It was only a second, but it felt like an eternity. You looked into each other's eyes with burning desire and in the blink of an eye, Zoro quickly pressed his lips to yours, stealing a needy kiss. He wrapped an arm around you and grabbed your side hard as he slipped his tongue past your lips for a much more passionate kiss. And you responded with a passion that nearly knocked him off his feet. All those repressed feelings surfaced and you couldn't get enough of him. It was not enough... not fast enough, not deep enough, too many clothes, too little skin on skin, you wanted more and so did he. Sharing wet kisses as your tongues entwined and tasted each other, you quickly pulled off his shirt and he pulled you into a sitting position to make short work of your clothes.

As soon as he had freed your torso of all clothing, he laid you back down and kissed your neck and collarbone like a desperate man. He was not rough, but eager as he made sure to taste every inch of your skin and memorize your sweet spots. You could only moan from the intensity and your hands made sure to explore every inch of his impressive frame you could reach. You traced every muscle on his large chest and shoulders, making him tremble at your touch. He kissed his way down your body, taking his time at your breasts, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples before sucking on them. His hands remained on your soft chest, kneading it ever so gently as he kissed his way south, leaving a wet trail of his saliva glistening in the dim light of the room.

He pulled on your panties and looked up at you, giving you the choice of continuing or not. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice, and looked at him with slightly parted lips. He smiled, proud that he had such an effect on you, and quickly removed your panties, leaving you naked in front of him. He took a moment to admire your body as he ran his finger along the trail of saliva before reaching your folds and slowly trailing his fingers down each side of your clit. You let out a small gasp and your eyes widened as you saw Zoro stand up. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed before sitting down in front of it. This took you by surprise and your eyes flickered with curiosity as he smiled mischievously just before burying his face between your thighs.

He licked slowly from your cunt to your clit and a deep growl rumbled in his chest. "So sweet..." He whispered and his hot breath fanned your folds as your taste exploded on his tongue, setting his taste buds on fire. You were already dripping wet and tasted like heaven to him and he wasted no time in devouring you like his last meal. His tongue swirled around your clit before he sucked on it, making you twitch as you let out a soft moan. His eyes were glued to you, noticing every little movement or the way you bit your lips, and your sweet moans were music to his ears. He flicked your knob repeatedly, mercilessly, making you squirm on the mattress. His arms wrapped around your legs, holding your hips in place as his fingers dug into your soft flesh. The spot was sensitive and you gasped. Zoro's mouth worked wonders on you, the constant licking and flicking of his tongue, the frequent sucking with his soft lips, the gentle scratching of his teeth over your sensitive knob. Everything he did brought you closer and closer to the edge and your moans became louder and louder. He loved every single sound you made, every wriggle and when your hands grabbed the sheets in sheer bliss. He wanted to savor this moment as long as possible, but his restrained cock throbbed in his pants and he needed you.

He released your hips with one hand and licked two of his fingers before sliding them through your folds and slowly pushing them inside you. He made sure to stimulate your clit as his fingers explored your insides, caressing your velvety walls until he found the spongy sweet spot inside of you. He drew gentle circles with his fingers and watched as you responded to his movements with a shiver down your spine. You were so close, he could see it in the way you shivered and squirmed. He put his other hand flat on your belly to hold you down as he applied more pressure to the spot inside you. The licking and sucking on your knob increased and you couldn't last much longer. "Zoro!" You moaned as you let go and your orgasm washed over you like a wave. He watched as you trembled and shook, your thighs pressing against his head, holding him in place as he kept going to make sure you rode out your high completely. Ecstasy coursed through your veins, and as his tongue became a painful torment on your clit from the overstimulation, you grabbed his hair and yanked his head away. He let go and immediately pulled his fingers back. As he looked at you, he grinned like a madman who had just tasted heaven, his lower face glistening with your juices. You were panting heavily from the pleasure you had just felt and your cunt still clenched around nothing, feeling the afterglow intensely.

"That was an impressive performance." He smirked and crawled on top of you. His lips captured yours, giving you a taste of your own juices as he kissed you. You hummed, his lips desirous yet gentle, giving you time to cool down after your high before you dive into another round of pleasure. You ran your hands down his sides, feeling every curve of his ribs and muscles until your hands reached his waistband. You palmed the bulge in his pants as Zoro pushed his tongue into your mouth, making the kiss more passionate as he sensed you were ready to go again. Your fingers were quick, opening his pants in no time and freeing his cock. You couldn't see it yet, but you felt it. It was thick and girthy. A prominent vein ran from top to bottom. Its head was massive and the slit at the top leaked pre-cum. You dipped your finger in the sticky fluid and swirled it around his tip, making him growl into your open-mouthed kiss.

He pulled away and stripped off all his clothes, giving you the opportunity to admire his body. You knew his impressive chest from all the times he displayed it openly, but what took your breath away was his waist. The slender, defined part of his torso that only made his chest look even wider. His cock twitched as he noticed your ravenous eyes on him and with steady movements he made his way back on top of you, his muscles beautifully illuminated as they shifted with his movements.

He ran his hand over your curves and you spread your legs to welcome him between your thighs. He grinned, but his eyes looked at you with a gentle expression. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." You whispered softly, ready for him and for this.

He propped himself up with one arm while his other hand aligned his member with your entrance. He rubbed the head over your slick folds a few times before pushing the head inside. Although you had seen and felt it in your hands before, you were still surprised and gasped at the thickness. Zoro kissed your lips tenderly, distracting and relaxing you as he pushed deeper and deeper until he bottomed out. "Shit..." He hissed through gritted teeth as he threw his head back. You were so tight around his length, testing his patience as he wanted nothing more than to rut relentlessly into you. You whimpered as you felt like you were being split in half. Taking deep breaths, you slowly adjusted to his size and finally gave him a sign that it was safe to move.

He started slowly, enjoying the feeling of your tight walls and your warmth around him. "Zoro... mhh..." You moaned as he placed both hands beside you again, picking up the pace and stopping the teasing. His length was so deep inside you, kissing your insides, and you gripped his biceps tightly as the knot in your stomach tightened with each thrust. Your mouth hung open and your breathing was labored, but you had the most mesmerizing view. Your gaze was fixed on the muscles in his chest as they twitched with each thrust, giving you quite a show of that 110cm chest. Zoro went down on his elbows, breaking your view of his chest, and looked deep into your eyes. His angle changed and he was now deeper inside you, hitting your sweet spot every time. Sweat formed on his forehead and his earrings jingled as his thrusts became stronger and more intense. You moaned louder, not able to keep it together anymore which earned you a satisfied growl from Zoro, who loved your sounds. Your legs trembled slightly which was a clear sign that you were close to your climax. "Zoro, I'm close..." You whispered between moans and Zoro responded with an open-mouthed kiss before he pushed himself up onto his knees.

He folded your legs against your chest and pulled you back onto his dick as he changed position. You grabbed the sheets for support as you began to tremble underneath him from the way his tip kissed your cervix deep inside you. "Come for me..." He pressed through his clenched teeth, his voice dripping with desire, and you gladly complied. His next thrust pushed you over the edge and the knot in your stomach exploded, making you see stars. You moaned his name as he pounded mercilessly into you, making sure to fuck you through your high. Your walls squeezed him tight and he growled deep as you pushed him over the edge with you. His thrust became sloppier as he shot his seed deep into you, making sure to fill you to the brim. Ecstasy ran through both of you, igniting a feeling of utter satisfaction deep inside you as your climax slowly faded. You were both panting heavily and he collapsed on top of you, making sure not to suffocate you with his weight as your insides and his dick still twitched from the pleasure, but the exhaustion mixed into your systems.

After a moment, he rolled off of you and gently pulled you into his arms, stroking your hair from your sweaty forehead. You snuggled against him and rested your head on his chest, enjoying how his sculptured chest felt like it was made for you. You both enjoyed the afterglow as you shared gentle touches and light kisses. There was no need to speak as your actions spoke louder than any words could have.

But there was one last thing burning in your mind, a fear that he would leave your side when you fell asleep and that this was all just a dream. So before you could fall asleep in his arms, you had to know, and you chose your words carefully.

"Will you stay with me?"

There was no hesitation from Zoro and you could hear a light chuckle rumbling in his chest.

He pressed another affectionate kiss to your temple and wrapped you a little tighter into his arms.

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©Strawheart-pirate. Please do not copy / modify / translate / repost my writing, banners or art on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

[irisintheafterglow]

live, laugh, pro racer!gojo :))

and, wow! just look at that absolute speed demon go!

"speed dumbass seems to be a more fitting description," you remark in response to the announcer's excited narration, sending quiet snickers through the pit crew behind you. "hey, hotshot. let up a little on those hairpins or your engine's gonna overheat," you radio through to his earpiece and pray to the racing gods that he listens. as if to spite you, he accelerates more aggressively through the following turn, causing a concerning but not impactful spike in temperature.

"only reason they'll overheat is 'cause you're on the line, pretty."

"it's my job on the line if you break down, satoru."

"i'm well aware of that, sweetheart," comes his voice from the other end. you were painfully aware of the thousands of spectators watching his point of view and listening in on your conversation. "rest assured, i won't get you fired."

"that's not up to you," you remind him, clicking through the telemetry statistics and glancing at the timing screen before concluding that everything was running as it should, albeit a little bit hot from the driver's arrogance. suguru whispers something in your ear and you dutifully relay it to the idiot behind the wheel. "you can lay off a bit on the straightaways; you have enough wiggle room to give the car a breather."

"but what if i don't wanna?" you breathe deeply through your nose, clenching and unclenching your fists in suppressed irritation. the pit crew keeps laughing behind you and you give them a look that says can you believe this guy? "pssht, houston, do you copy? what's with the radio silence?"

a risky but flawless turn by gojo satoru, who's been in the lead since the start of the race!

"watch your wheels, satoru. keep pulling turns like that and you'll have to come get 'em changed. even you can't escape balding," you mutter with a smirk on your lips and you can imagine his indignant expression. "as much as i wish it'd come faster so you look less pretty."

"you think i'm pretty?" fuck. his shit-eating grin is evident in his tone.

"yeah, pretty stupid," you retort, face burning and glancing at suguru for help. he merely smiles in amusement, returning to whatever the job of lead mechanic requires. "finish the race and get back here so i can strangle you."

"shoko's gonna have a field day dealing with that one, boss."

"says the pr nightmare that got banned from pre-race interviews," you scoff and he slams his foot on the accelerator in response. "hey, hey, easy there; don't be breaking my car."

"i'll buy you a new one," he mutters, crossing the finish line like he'd done it in his sleep. the crew and his managers let out a collective sigh of relief before cheering like they'd won the lottery. you, however, are transfixed on the voice on the way to pull into the pit. "and whatever else you want for dealing with my bullshit all the time."

"look at you being all self-aware," you tease, "this is new and i'm not sure if i like it."

"i can go back to being an asshole, if you want," he suggests and your attention flicks to the vehicle pulling in and immediately being swarmed by reporters, cameras, and the crew. you set down your headphones at the same time he pulls off his helmet, shaking his head like a dog that just took a bath. despite the crowd of microphones being shoved in front of him and the champagne being popped over his head, the only priority in his mind is you. "hi, pretty," he whispers in your ear when he finally takes you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "thanks for helping me win."

"i feel like i was a suggestion box whose papers were being incinerated," you argue lightheartedly. he shoots a look of warning to a reporter getting a little too close to you to be considered friendly and the man recoils in fear. "but i guess you did race pretty well."

"couldn't have done it without you," he murmurs lovingly.

"and you better not forget it."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[dilemmaontwolegs]

A litttle Geri moment because she is a queen, Geri showing you and Max all the photos she took of you while you guys were on the carpet and the loving interactions between the two of you while Max gets interviewed.

I think we are almost at the end of Gala Max requests 😅 what a strange two days we have had on this blog...

The Real Prize - A Mile High || MV1

Pre-Gala || The Real Prize || Jealousy || Panties || Captivity || Rocky || Escaping || Thighs || Consequences || A Mile High || New Beginnings

“Oh, these two have to be my favourites.” Geri turned her phone around to show the photo of you and Max on the red carpet.

She had been trying to get Max’s attention but he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from you. She had given up and took the picture that proved just how enthralled he was by you last night. She swiped across to the next one where a reporter had got his attention, asking the usual questions. You had turned to watch him answer the questions with the blunt honesty you loved about him. The adoration in both photos was palpable and you peeked over to Max sitting beside you to find the same smile on his face.

“Can you please send those to me?” you asked, grateful that Max’s plane had wifi.

She sent you a dozen shots she had taken during the night and you snuggled back into Max’s side as you swiped through them together. One had a glowing smile that was absolutely radiant and you knew exactly what had transpired minutes before it was snapped. Max did too as he chuckled and zoomed in on your face. “This is my favourite, schatje.”

“But what about this one?”

Geri loved to capture precious moments and it was certainly one. You had tears in your eyes as you proudly watched Max take the stage and accept his trophy. Your hands had been clasped together tightly in front of your lips as you fought the urge to clap and scream too early.

Your eyes were blurring after saving all the pictures and locking the screen. You hadn't had nearly enough sleep in the weeks of travelling but you were looking forward to heading home for some much needed rest. Just you and Max, and the cats.

"Oh, you poor thing, you must be tired from yesterday's activities," Geri fawned as she caught you yawning again. "Why don't you go have a sleep?"

"Hmmph, activities," Christian commented under his breath as he sipped an espresso.

"I'm fine here," you assured her as you fluffed a pillow on Max's lap to get comfortable before draping his arm over your waist.

Geri shook her head and put her phone down on the table. "What good is having a bed on this plane if you aren't going to use it?"

"I don't think they would get any sleep if they went to the bedroom, honey," Christian said with a knowing look.

"Not now," you murmured. "I would have nightmares."

Max brushed the fly-away hairs from your face and bent down to kiss your cheek, and, more importantly, whisper, "There's other places we could join the mile high club, schatje."

"Join?" You lifted an eyebrow as you rolled back and looked up at him. "Baby, you've already given me a lifetime membership."

"This is what I mean, honey," Christian said as he placed his empty cup down. "They forget there are other people in the room, they are in a world of their own."

"Leave them be, Chris, they are in love. Don't you remember that feeling?"

"I feel like that is a trick question and the answer is: No, because I still love you the same as I did ten years ago."

Geri giggled and playfully swatted her husband's arm. "You're learning."

You laughed at the couple and wondered if you and Max would be the same in ten years time. You hoped so.

[warnersister]

Pre Traumatic Stress Disorder - Finn Shelby x Reader

Finn Shelby x Reader

Finn’s seen his brother’s wives comfort them when they have PTSD, can’t he tell a little white lie and get the same treatment?

Finn stood in the doorway to your bedroom, pondering his current decisions. He’d seen his brothers do this with their wives and partners, perhaps he could try with you. They’d go to their other halves, trembling and drenched in sweat; crying as they plead for comfort as night terrors of the war had haunted them iteratively.

You were all currently staying in Shelby Manor, the home playing homage for a hotel while a close family friend’s wedding took place the day prior. Since working at the Garrison you’d become a close friend of the Peaky Blinder’s and quite the eye-catcher of a particularly young Shelby. So Tommy didn’t think twice before inviting you and Harry along - after all, you’d be family once Finn grew some balls and actually asked you out.

“Finn?” Shit, too late to back out now. He took a deep breath before putting his acting skills to the test. “Are you okay, it’s-” he saw your shadowed figure move to look at your small wrist watch on the bedside table “two in the morning.” You spoke, groggily. Just do it. He sniffed, thinking of his mother to try to build tears in his eyes.

You noticed his ‘upset’ and sat up quickly, the confused look in your eyes softening to concern. Finn wiped the wetness under his eyes with shaky hands. “Finn, what’s wrong?” You ask, voice laced with worry. He opened his mouth, bottom lip quivering. “I-it’s stupid.” He whispered between forced breaths. “It’s not stupid if it’s upsetting you, please tell me what happened” you encourage.

He steps away from the doorway and into the room slightly, comforting himself by rubbing his right arm with his left. “Well,” he stuttered “well I had this dream, right?” You nodded “and usually it doesn’t bother me, all the violence and nightmares” he looked to his feet “but; but you were shot and I couldn’t help you. And I can still hear them firing.” He breathed out, forcing floods of tears from his eye ducts - an applause worthy performance.

Your body language relaxed as a sympathetic expression appeared on your face. “Oh Finn,” you untucked yourself and stepped out of bed, Finn’s cheeks hot seeing you in a simple night gown. You walk over to him and take his face in your hands, looking him over.

Come on. Say it. Say it. Say it. He begged internally.

“Come on, come get in with me” you say, rubbing his back comfortingly. “Really?” He asks, trying not to sound as hopeful as he is. You nod confidently in response, shutting the door and leading him towards the bed. YES. You both lay in silence for a moment, before he sniffs loudly: still not fully happy with the response. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for waking you up with something so ridiculous. You were just laying there-” you hushed him and sat up, pulling him to lay on your chest.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m okay” you comfort, running your hands through his hair gently. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not hurt.” Finn looks up at you, to which you wipe his tears away with a soft thumb. “I just care so much about you, I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t protect you.” He admitted, mentally hoping you’d do what the others do to their husbands. “Oh you sweet, sweet boy.” You coo, a small smile on your face, leaning down to kiss his forehead tenderly before going back to play with his hair.

“Tell you what, you stay here with me tonight. Then I know you’re okay and you know I’m safe. How’s that sound?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. He grins between drying tears. “Thank you, you’re angel.” He whispers, moving up to touch your cheek to check you were real, that this wasn’t his dream. You lean into his touch and close your eyes for a moment.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, pushing the boundary as far as he could stretch it. You nod, tired. He pulls himself up and holds you like you were leaving him, like someone would take you away from him, you leaned up to kiss his jaw before settling down for the rest of the night. Maybe he should go into acting.

The next morning, Finn was eating breakfast, looking out the window and into the vast countryside. His brother Arthur walked over with a cup of coffee, but it smelled like he’d added a hint of whiskey. He clapped his brother on the back. “Alright, Finn?” The boy hummed in response. “No PTSD I hope.” The boy side eyed the older man. “Oh the bombs, oh the guns” he fawned and Finn elbowed him; mannerisms changing when you walked into the room to ask how he was feeling this morning.

Certainly not guilty, that’s for sure.

[creedslove]

SLEEP BLISS 💤

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you and Joel used to share a sleeping bag when you were on the road. Once you got to Jackson, he made sure to put an end to this habit, but now his nightmares are back to haunt him again and he needs your help

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of masturbation, probably out of character Joel but I don't care I just want my big bear Joel to be happy and safe

1.5k words

As Joel stood at the door watching you get ready for bed, he scratched down his neck while he felt so stupid.

But it wasn't just a feeling, he was stupid. That was the problem.

You took a while to notice him there, he'd been extremely silent and several times he thought of giving up that idea. He had an internal battle going on, so ashamed of asking you that, but at the same time he really needed it.

You saw him standing there, dark circles around his eyes, he looked exhausted and even a shade paler if someone asked and you knew exactly why.

The nightmares were back.

It pained you to think of how much he suffered to get something simple such as a night's sleep, you also had nightmares of your own, everyone did in an apocalyptic world like the one you lived in, but you just knew Joel's were somehow worse. He was tortured by his own subconscious, everything all at once, all his memories, regrets, broken dreams, broken promises, broken heart.

He often mumbled Sarah's name during his sleep, and it was followed by whimpers, the ones Joel would never let out in front of anyone, not while awake.

And you knew that because you watched his suffering for the last couple of months.

While traveling together to Jackson, you two ended up sleeping together.

Sleeping and sleeping only.

Never had sex, Joel never touched you in that way, despite a few occasional boners you felt poking your back when you woke up, but you couldn't really blame him for a good old morning wood.

You wouldn't deny you wanted Joel to touch you in that way, but you knew he wouldn't. He was a distant guy, no matter if you two knew each other since the QZ and went through a lot together, he always kept to himself, and you knew better than to push his buttons.

You cared for him, and he cared for you, but he wasn't that kind of guy and he was old enough to know that if he crossed the line, things would be an even bigger mess than they were.

He decided to share the sleeping bag with you when you were both out in the open and he couldn't stand you chattering your teeth all the time, how you tried warming your hands and how you had to place sweater over sweater and still you couldn't warm up enough to sleep.

He'd never seen that before. Even during summer nights, when the breeze cooled down, you still had chills and needed a blanket.

He tried to tell himself that the situation pissed him off, but in fact, it made him sad. He didn't like seeing you suffering and decided to keep you warm.

What was supposed to be one night, became two, three, four… and it lasted through the whole trip.

Joel's plan was to never repeat that again, but when he fell asleep that night, he didn't have any nightmares.

And neither during the other nights you slept together.

As much as he enjoyed having a peaceful slumber, he also saw how flushed and giggly you were when you woke up.

How you rested your hands on his when he held you and how before bed you always rested your hands way too close to the waist of his jeans. You were a lot younger than him, but you were a woman nonetheless and a beautiful one at that matter, and it was easy to get tempted.

And that was why, the first thing he did when you both arrived in Jackson, was to put an end to this dangerous habit.

At first, he didn't even want to share a house with you, and he rudely suggested that you find a place on your own.

You'd looked at him with sad, disappointed eyes, but agreed.

However, Joel went soft and when he saw you were packing your bags, he apologized and said he'd prefer to have you there, for safety matters, he quickly added, but stood by the decision of you having your own room.

You respected his decision, you couldn't complain and you also enjoyed having your own bedroom, you could decorate it as you pleased, have your own privacy and God knew how much you needed it when the memories of the nights you spent curled up to him, hit you hard and you had no other solution than to bury your fingers deep inside of your aching cunt and pretend it were his instead.

You didn't question him, but each passing day you noticed how he got darker circles around his eyes and at night you always heard his heavy steps pacing around the house, unable to sleep.

You wouldn't deny him help, but you wouldn't offer it either, the fear of getting a hurtful reply was bigger, besides, it was his decision to take his distance and you couldn't lie at the fact that you did feel hurt.

You finally raised your eyes at him and saw the discomfort in his face, you could swear he had made up his mind to talk to you about just to give up and then decide to do it all over again. He was a proud man and that must've been a terrible situation for him.

"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?" You broke the silence, knowing it would only take him just a couple of seconds more to give up and go back to his room, but you didn't want that, you wanted Joel there, you wanted to feel his weight, his warmth and his rough, big hands.

"I-uh…" he started with awkwardness though he saw it was pointless to lie "yes…" he was ready to get in bed when you told him to stop.

"If you want to sleep here, it will be on my terms, Joel… Undress!"

"What the fuck, Y/N?" He immediately replied, looking at you rather shocked.

"Joel, come on… we're not on the road anymore, we're safe, we're sleeping in a warm bed, it's not like we need to be in our jeans in case we gotta get up in the middle of the night to run or fight" you explained him when quickly got rid of your shorts, standing only in a loose shirt and your panties.

Joel swallowed hard and didn't even try to hide when he checked your body out, you felt a soft flush spreading across your cheek but smiled "it's nothing we haven't seen when we were bathing in the lake" you reminded him.

If he wasn't so exhausted he could've just argued and told you to fuck off, but instead, Joel got rid of his shirt at first, revealing his broad chest, strong arms that unblocked his belt and dragged his jeans to the floor, until he was standing there in his boxers only.

If he hadn't been embarrassed to look at you, you certainly wouldn't be embarrassed to look at him, and you did it, for quite a while, eyes lingering especially on his crotch, where you could swear you could see the shape of his cock.

You didn't look him in the eyes though, instead, you got under the covers and waited for him to do the same.

Joel let out a groan once his body met the comfortable mattress and covered himself.

You scooter closer and snaked your arm around his waist

"Relax Joel, it's just me," you reminded him. You relaxed as you rested your head on his chest and kept rubbing his naked skin with circular movements, massaging his tense arms.

"The nightmares are back, you know…" he said embarrassedly "I didn't want to bother you, but I can only sleep decently when you're around" you were shocked at his confession, Joel wasn't one to talk about stuff like that, but you understand he probably didn't care at all at how exhausted he was.

"You smell good, darling… you always did, even when we were on the road…" he smiled gently at you, which made your heart beat faster, you cupped his face and traced his jawline with the tip of your fingers.

Suddenly, all the anger and hurt you felt when Joel told you to take another room faded and you smiled, nuzzling his neck gently and stroking his soft, curly hair.

"Sleep Joel" you whispered to him, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

Slowly you could feel the tension in his body dissolving and he drifted off to sleep.

In the early morning, you woke up to Joel clung tight to you. You had your back to his chest, his heavy arm on your hips, preventing you from getting up. You gasped the moment you realized what was poking your back was his erection.

Alright, his boner was definitely harder to ignore without the thickness of his jeans shielding it, but you didn't complain at all, it felt so good to feel him that way.

You could've got up to make you and Joel breakfast, but you gave up, closing your eyes and snuggling, going back to sleep in Joel's arms.

_____

A/N: idk i just love Joel

[ooffmlsorry]

One Piece Men Dealing with a Dangerously Reckless S/O

context: by dangerously reckless I mean someone who never has a second thought about throwing themselves in harms way and doesn't care what it does to them

t/w: passive suicidality, self harm? (better safe than sorry) angst. Mentions of blood, injury, and death

LAW

It'd probably lead to a big argument where he threatens to kick you off his crew because losing you would legitimately be the death of him. He can't lose anymore people he loves to violence. When Bepo tells Law you didn't even hesitate to plunge into a thicket of razor wire to help your crew mates escape, it doesn't read as admirable to him. It reminds him too much of himself on Spider Miles. After he gets your side of the story, which pretty much confirms it, he doesn't talk to you at all while he cleans the mud and blood from your skin and stitches the slashes that cover you from head to toe. Normally, even if you've fallen asleep, he talks you through your treatment, but not after your stunts. He's that...scared? Angry? Distraught might be the right word. Every time you do something like this, he's speechless because his thoughts are racing with the reality of losing you. He feels sick to his stomach. On nights like these, he doesn't know whether to sleep far away from you or hold you so close to him you can't breathe.

LUFFY

At first, Luffy doesn't care. He has the utmost faith in his crew, and they put themselves in harms way all the time! Getting injured is just being a pirate sometimes! That's pre-timeskip. Post-timeskip Luffy still has a lot of faith in his crew and a lot of faith in his ability to protect his crew, but he's...different. He believes things are always going to work out no matter what and if they don't he'll make them, but sometimes he wakes up in the middle of night and stares at you, tracing all the scars you've gotten from one fight or another. And then the what-ifs begin to creep in and the nightmares start. After literally diving into a sea king to retrieve Nami's log pose and Chopper has patched you up yet again, you wake up to Luffy calling out for you in his sleep, sweat dampening his hair and his face twisted in fear. You soothe and shush him until his breathing evens out, but he holds you tighter still. It's not in his nature to "bench you" or doubt your strength just because he's in love with you. That would be controlling and doubting you, and he would never do that. But that doesn't mean Zoro and Sanji don't take notice, even if Luffy won't say anything they make it extremely hard for you to pull off any careless "heroics."

ZORO

Much like Luffy, Zoro doesn't think much of it for a while for the same reason. This is the guy that was completely ready to cut his own legs off, after all. But that doesn't mean it doesn't concern him, especially because you don't seem to have a rhyme or reason for all the shit you pull. And he would say something to you about it. Maybe not directly after you jumped straight into Marine gunfire to cover a little girl, he just wants you to be alive at that point. But after days of taking care of you as your wounds slowly heal, after he's certain you're not going anywhere this time, he'd make sure the two of you are somewhere alone and quiet to talk. As far as Zoro's concerned not going down without a fight is completely fine, dying for your dream isn't considered giving it up, but acting like it isn't a possibility is stupid. And he'd tell you as much. For most of this he wouldn't be able to look at you, just because if he does fear is going to take hold of him, but for that last bit he would. Zoro would search your eyes hoping you understand what he's saying. He'll tie you to the ship if he has to, he'd do anything if it saves you from being so stupid as to forfeit your dreams.

SABO

Dying for the cause is par for the course. It's a grim reality that Sabo begrudgingly accepts, although he does have a bit of youthful naivety that it won't ever happen to anyone. He won't ever believe the revolution isn't worth it, but you do make him question it for the first time. He loves you so much he has to compare you to the whole world for a moment, and that's one of the worst thoughts he's ever had. Because the whole world still wins. The guilt would eat him alive until he blows up (somewhat literally) at you for drinking the last of a rare poison to keep it out of the enemy's hands. Angry tears roll down Sabo's cheeks. When he yells at you, he's shaking with anger and fear. It's not up to him, but he doesn't object when you're completely benched while you recover and for a little longer after that. It takes a while for him to no longer angry and scared out of his mind, but once he is he's back to himself. If can visit you every day he will. He has hope for the world's future, and hope for yours too. He's not leaving either behind.

[kotoku]

Hello! Could I request Aventurine with a musician and singer reader? I'm just imagining them singing to him while he rests.

ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄɪᴀɴ & ꜱɪɴɢᴇʀ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - aventurine x musician and singer! reader

content - a couple headcanons before the small oneshot at the end, pre-relationship to established relationship, mainly fluff but there is some angst i sprinkled in, aventurine having nightmares about his past/trauma, reader comforting him to sleep, gender-neutral reader, comfort fic (?) for aventurine lol

warnings - none, besides some slight angst

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ Aventurine’s first encounter with you would be an event that is taking place in a casino that he frequents

↺ You know how bars have those karaoke nights where people can come up and sing? Something like that

↻ When he first saw you performing, he could recognize some of the songs that he overheard from his subordinates and coworkers

↺ They seemed to be fangirling over whoever the singer was, gushing about their appearance and music to each other before noticing Aventurine and skittering off to their work

↺ He didn’t question what they were listening to, returning back to whatever he was doing in the first place

↻ When you started singing on stage, he was enamored with your voice, the lighting of the casino complimenting your looks and making you appear ethereal 

↺ Aventurine couldn’t focus on his gambles for the rest of the night and days to come, distracted by your performances

↻ He started going to the casino on days that you were performing, making sure to get a seat near you to be able to have a closer look

↻ Aventurine often times finds himself daydreaming, lost in the movements of your hands as they played to the tune of your voice

↺ He was lovestruck, but he would never admit that to anyone, maybe not even you…

↻ Unbeknownst to Aventurine, you had noticed his frequent appearances during your appearances and were delighted to have someone of his position enjoy your performances

↺ You’d catch his lingering gazes, the flustered look on his face when he caught himself staring for too long, his stuttered movements when he returned to whoever he was milking money from

↺ You decided to wait a little longer, wanting to see just how long it would take for Aventurine to make his move before you do

↻ Honestly, you would have never guessed that you’d bump into Aventurine after one of your performances, spotting him waiting near the back entrance to where you had some of your equipment stored (it seems you needn’t wait longer for your encounter with him)

↺ He was the first to approach you, clapping his hands and giving you a sly smile

↺ “What a performance. You always know how to put on a show.”

↻ From there on, he’d catch you after you had finished your act for the night, striking up a conversation that could last for hours

↺ You’d end up sitting by the bar with him, talking and laughing the night away as the two of you grew closer and learned more about each other

↺ It wasn’t long until Aventurine asked you out to dinner, a much more romantic setting compared to late-night bar trips

↻ Aventurine, despite his cunning attitude and sly looks, had a much softer and clingier side to him, you discovered further down the line 

↻ When the two of you started sharing the same bed, cuddling and holding the other close, you learned of the frequent nightmares he often experienced

↺ He hated to admit it, in fact, he never wanted you to find out about the nightmares he faced each night

↺ Those unforgiving and relentless nightmares that opened wounds of the past, were never meant to be shown to you but alas, it was only a matter of time before you found out

-----

It was another night that Aventurine had grown accustomed to. Those unforgiving nights when his past had come back to haunt him in the form of nightmares, in which he woke up in a cold sweat and felt his heart beating out of his chest. Invisible hands seemed to tighten around his throat, the fading heat on that damned mark on his neck lingering for a second too long. It almost made him want to scream and cry, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. 

Not when you were lying peacefully beside him. 

The steady rise and fall of your chest, your incoherent mumbles, and your body heat reassured him that you were there and that you wouldn’t leave his side anytime soon. Yet the shackles of his past still persisted, dragging him into the depths of his own loneliness and despair. 

Aventurine had quietly shuffled off the bed, sitting on the edge while feeling the cool night air filter through the window. He glanced over at a nearby clock and found it to be 1:24 AM, nowhere near daybreak. His shaky hands ran through his hair, eyes shut closed as he tried to stabilize his breathing. 

To his dismay, he felt you move in your sleep, a groggy voice calling out to him from behind.

“…Aventurine..? Are you okay?” 

Aventurine reluctantly looked over his shoulder, plastering that same smile he gave you when the two of you first met.

“Of course, I just needed to use the bathroom.” He lied, yet he knew that you would see through him as you always did. That was the most damning part about you, your ability to read people’s emotions despite any obstacles. 

“…Aventurine, did you have another nightmare?” He heard you speak, your figure moving to sit beside him. He felt your hand gently touch his shoulder, moving to rub comforting circles on his shoulder blades. Aventurine relaxed at your touch.

“I—..sigh… Yes..I did.” Aventurine admitted, his gaze never meeting your own. “It’s the same damn nightmare, nothing special…” 

When his body turned to face yours, you saw the dark circles that began to form from the countless nights he found himself having trouble falling asleep. Your face softened at his disheveled appearance, hands moving to cup his face which he leaned into.

“Oh Aven, you can always tell me when something is bothering you but I’ll never pressure you.” You hummed, fixing his loose strands of hair. “I’ll never leave you to face your troubles alone.”

Aventurine could feel his eyes start to water, but he blinked them away, turning his face to kiss the palm of your hand. 

“Thank you, my love.” 

“Of course.”

There was a brief silence between the both of you but it wasn’t an awkward one. You had moved to let Aventurine lay down, spooning him in your arms which held him close and played with his hair. Although he’d complain about being the little spoon, he would always sink further into your embrace despite his protests. This time, however, he didn’t say a word. 

Aventurine could hear you start to hum a small song, one which he recognized as the song you first performed at the casino. It was a slow and comforting one. Its tunes melted away his previous stress and allowed him to grow lax in your arms.

Your humming combined with the faint sound of your beating heart slowly lulled him to sleep. His eyes started to grow heavy and his breathing had evened. The light strokes of his hair had him leaning towards your touch.

Aventurine could feel himself slipping into the realm of dreams, which would now be filled with scenarios of you. 

At last, his eyes have closed and your humming never ceased, following him into his slumber.

“My thoughts will follow you into your dreams and soothe your worries. Rest well, my dear.”

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - did you guys get the reference at the end? ( ❛ ͜ʖ ❛ )

[dancingtotuyo]

9. the fear of what's to come

Woman | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You and Joel navigate life changing news.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, mentions of potential pregnancy complications including but not limited to miscarriage and stillbirth, single reference to a fetus being a child (not intended in a pro life way), angst, grief, complicated feelings surrounding pregnancy.

Notes: A huge thanks to my amazing beta readers and friends @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin & @janaispunk

If you have not checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3088

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

You know three weeks after your missed period what is happening. It’s not hard to figure out. It’s just like last time. Menopause crosses your mind briefly, but the symptoms don’t line up. You’re sensitive to the same foods, nausea rolls in and out like the ocean tides throughout the day. The insatiable craving for a tomato sandwich cements it two days later. Tears run down your cheeks as you quickly finish off the sandwich and prepare another. 

You don’t get excited. You don’t make plans, and most importantly, you don’t tell Joel. You’re 45. Joel is in his late 50s. You know the statistics, the pre-end-of-the-world ones. You can’t imagine they’ve improved. 

Instead, you just hope that when it happens, nothing goes wrong. There’s no DNC, no pills to make sure everything passes properly or ensure no infection sets in. You’ve aided many women through this, many much younger than yourself. Some make it just fine, others have complications with nothing but prayer, poultices, and 20-year-old antibiotics to help. You’re not sure what actually does it when the women make it through. Some of them you've buried. Their faces flicker through your mind. You cannot be one of them. You cannot leave Carter without either of his parents in this world.  

You tell Maria. You tell her everything she needs to know. What to do step by step when it happens. Since Adam’s injury, Dr. Pooley refuses to practice anything more than simple first aid. You’re both certain it’s dementia. You spend most mornings listening to him talk through different lectures he attended. On the mornings his brain won’t cooperate, you sip tea together. He’s writing down what he remembers, but you have to fact-check it. He’s already taught you most of it anyway. 

“You have to tell Joel,” Maria says when you tell her. 

You refuse. You won’t do it. You won’t bring him into this. You have this silent agreement that you’re partners in this world, but he still lives in the house across the street with Ellie. There’s never been discussions about moving in together or anything past that. You don’t call him your boyfriend. He doesn’t call you his girlfriend. Making those commitments, those plans, it will hurt too much when the world takes him away. 

Carter calls him “Daddy.” It makes Joel smile every time. He’s accepted that commitment. It makes you smile too, but there’s still a little ache in your heart each time. Carter knows about Gabe. You tell him stories all the time. If you ask him, he says he has two daddies. One here and one in heaven. 

But you won’t tell Joel about this child. He’s lost one. He doesn’t need to lose another. 

Maria fights you on it. She looks at her son pointing out that she was 2 years older than you are now when he was born healthy. You don’t remind her she almost died, but she sees it in your eyes. You still have nightmares about that night.

You’re firm. You’re not going to tell Joel. Neither will she, and she damn sure won’t tell Tommy either. 

You wait for the cramps and the blood, but they never come. You hit the 3-month mark, your 2nd trimester at the beginning of October. You don’t cry in the bathroom. You square your shoulders. Second-trimester miscarriages happen. Stillbirths happen, but hope gathers in the depths of your soul, growing with each day. You push it away with logic and reasoning. 

Two sides of you war against each other. You can’t bring another life into this world. At one point you were okay with it. You felt safe here, and while you still do, it doesn’t feel okay anymore. The world still digs its ugly claws into this community. Yet, the hopes you used to hold in your mind, the ones you had with Gabe, and the ones you had before the outbreak still linger. In a perfect, uncomplicated world, this is what you would choose. 

You hide the sickness from Joel with relative ease. He’s often awake and out of bed before you for patrol shifts, early morning chores, or waking up with Carter so you can sleep in.

You deliver the Crosby twins a week later without complications. Melissa is only a couple of years younger than you, but at your age, you know how crucial those few years are. When you finally reach your front porch, you sit in the darkness of Wyoming and finally let the tears fall because fate seems to be telling you that this is happening, or just sending you another person to lose. The realization hits you like a freight train. Time is up. You have to tell Joel. 

You crack open the door to Carter’s bedroom. He’s sound asleep and it relieves you to know he's here. You’re less on edge when he’s close, and It means Joel picked him up from Maria and Tommy’s. It means Joel is in your bed.

Sure enough, he’s there when you creep in. He sleeps on his side curled up over your pillow. You roll your eyes. Yes, it's endearing, but it’s also a pain in the ass to get your pillow back.

The bathroom light is blinding at first, but your eyes slowly adjust as you turn on the shower and steam fills the space. Goosebumps spread across your skin as you undress, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You’ve noticed the subtle changes in your body over these past couple of months, but they’re becoming more noticeable. Your breasts have grown, they’re so sensitive, and your sports bra pulls at the seams. Joel commented on it last week. You joked you were packing on extra weight for winter acting like it was nothing. 

Your favorite pair of jeans no longer fit. You’ve mostly stuck to leggings since. You’re starting to clock the subtle changes in your body. They’re happening faster than with your last pregnancy. The past week, you’ve shut Joel down sexually, scared he would catch on despite your sex drive skyrocketing. It’s been difficult. 

The shower washes away everything: the sweat and grime of the day, your tears, the tension in your muscles. You stand under the water until it runs cold, slipping on Joel’s worn soft t-shirt.

Your pillow is back on your side of the bed, Joel still on his side. A smile creeps onto your face. He keeps his eyes closed, but you know he’s awake. You don’t say anything as you slide into bed, but your anxiety spikes, your heart fluttering in your chest. You have to tell him. 

You’re staring at the ceiling when he breaks the silence. “What happened?” 

You suck in a breath. He thinks something went wrong tonight. He’s probably preparing to dig a grave. “Nothing, mom and babies are fine.”

“So it was twins?” 

“Yeah.” You had suspected as much, but the ultrasound machine doesn’t work, try as you might to get it operational. You hadn’t been able to find a second heartbeat with the Doppler. 

“So what’s buggin you?” His drawl is deeper, soaked with sleep. 

He scoots a little closer, hot breath tickling your ear. You can’t move. You should look him in the eye when you tell him, but you can’t. The words are at the back of your throat surging forward toward your lips. The anxiety in your chest feels like a herd of buffalo stomping across the countryside. You squeeze your eyes shut to try and stop it.

“Sweetheart?” His hand reaches toward you, eyes trained on your profile as concern laces his brow. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

His hand stops over your arm. You feel its warmth so close, and then it goes away. You dare to look at him. You expect him to get out of bed and bolt. You don’t know why. He’s only shown you otherwise the entirety of your relationship, but this is more than either of you signed up for. Instead, you watch as it sinks in. He connects the dots, all the symptoms and signs that were right in front of his face, his subconscious absorbing them, but refusing to put it all together. 

“I’m sorry,” you say.

You look back toward the ceiling, tears slipping from your eyes. 

His hand covers your abdomen, forehead pressing against your temple. He starts to feel the changes to your body for what they are. You shudder. 

“How long have you known?”

There’s not a trace of judgment or fear in his voice, but it does little to assure you. You’re scared. It doesn’t matter what Joel says or does, the fear is overwhelming. 

“Beginning of August.”

“Shit, baby.” He pulls you into him, cradling your head against his chest. “You didn’t have to carry this alone.”

“I didn’t think it would last.” After months of holding the tears back, you finally let them out, a mix of relief and fear. “I didn’t- I didn’t want you to-” 

You can’t finish it. You can’t say it out loud, but Joel knows what you’re trying to say. You didn’t want him to lose another child, and it wrecks him. His grip on you is crushing, but it soothes your shaking frame. Just as you come down, his sobs greet your ear because he’s scared too. Every single fear and anxiety that has come over you the past months, he feels too. Maria’s labor and delivery flash through his mind. If that happens to you, who’s going to save you? 

You reach up to cradle his face. He presses into your neck. Your skin is sticky and salty again, but you don’t even think about it as the man you love and can’t tell cries in your arms. You’re unable to return his soothing squeeze, but you lay there to provide any comfort you can. The two of you fall asleep tangled in each other. 

You feel Joel’s fingers dancing across your abdomen before you’re fully conscious. There’s no rhyme or reason to his movements. His other hand brushes over your temple and through your hair. Every once in a while you feel his breath and lips across your neck, up and down your arm, over your collarbone. It feels like he’s memorizing you, fear present in all of his movements even now. 

You finally open your eyes. His movements still as you look at him. There are tears in his eyes as his head falls forward, resting against yours. “I’m scared.”

“Me too.” You reach out, nails raking across his arm. 

He shudders under your touch. “I wish you told me sooner.” 

You bit your lips. “I’m sorry.” 

He lets out a deep sigh, kissing your forehead. His hand drifts to your abdomen again. You watch his eyes, so expressive filled with fear and anxiety and maybe a little bit of awe and guilt?

“I should’ve been more careful.”

You press your head to his, inhaling softly. “We.”

Joel’s fingers scrape along your jaw, his beard rough against your chin. “I like being a we.”

“Me too.”

Silence settles between the two of you. The wind knocks against the window, but it’s warm next to Joel. His arm snakes around you, tugging you closer to him. 

“I suppose you’ve told Maria?”

You can’t hide the guilty smile on your lips. “If it makes a difference, she told me I needed to tell you right away. Pretty sure she was gonna tell you herself if I didn’t do it soon.” You mess with the collar of his shirt. 

“How long do we have?”

“Figure it’ll be May. If we get that far.” You say. Joel nods and something clenches around your heart, a need to protect him, warn him of the danger. “You know there’s a lot of risks. No guarantee…” 

“One day at a time.” He kisses your cheek but you see all the fear he’s pushing away plastered to his face like a movie poster. 

Joel asks you how you are, but other than that, you don’t talk about it. You feel like a weight has lifted off your shoulders but there’s an anvil hanging above your head, waiting to drop at a moment’s notice. 

You’ve outgrown your last pair of jeans. When you manage to trade with someone, they give you a look, like they know what’s going on inside your body. 

You take more naps, sometimes at the clinic, sometimes on the couch. You’re constantly tired. Maria brings dinner to the house every few days. She never asked, but you don’t complain. 

One evening you open your eyes to find Ellie staring down at you, worry etched in her features. It startles you at first. 

“You’ve been sleeping a lot lately,” She says. 

“You’ve noticed?” You pull yourself into a seated position. It feels like someone shoved a bunch of cotton into your mouth. You reach for the now room-temperature water on your end table. 

“You only take naps when you’re sick or depressed.” You raise an eyebrow at her. She crosses her arms as if to say she knows you’re neither right now. “What’s going on?”

You finish off the water. Despite its temperature, it helps. “I’m fine.” You reach out, placing a hand on her shoulder, but it does nothing. At 17 years old, Ellie is turning into a woman before your very eyes. At times, you’re convinced any semblance of childhood has been replaced with adulthood, but there are other times you still see the slivers of the girl you met two and a half years ago. Right now, she’s the one sitting in front of you.  

“Bullshit. What’s going on? You and Joel have been acting weird.”

Had things really been that different in the past couple of weeks? You open your mouth to speak, unsure of what to say. You and Joel hadn’t talked about telling anyone, which seemed silly. You can’t hide this forever. 

The door opens and Carter bursts in with Joel on his heels. A smile instantly finds your lips. 

“Mommy! Look!” He holds up a package of seemingly new Crayola crayons. 

Your eyes widen with exaggeration. “Wow, buddy. That’s awesome.”

“John Lacy found a bunch of them on patrol. They handed them out today,” Joel smiles. “Grabbed you some colored pencils.” He hands a set of non-crayola pencils to Ellie.

“Thanks.” She smiles but is still distracted by her worry over you. 

Carter crawls up beside you, eagerly pulling out the surprisingly intact crayons one by one. Joel leans over to kiss your cheek and tousles Ellie’s hair. She makes a face of displeasure but doesn’t fight him on it.

“You two look like you were talkin about somethin serious.”

“I was trying to figure out why the two of you have been acting weird,” Ellie says. 

Joel’s drops to unreadable. He looks at you and you shrug in response. “We have to tell them eventually.”

Worry makes its home on Ellie’s face. “So something is wrong with you.with you.”

“Nothing is wrong with me.” You sigh deeply. You run your fingers over Carter’s head, kissing it. 

“You’re sure acting like there is,” She says impatiently.

“Ellie,” Joel reprimands, traces of his asshole voice laced into it. 

Ellie bites her lip. It looks like she might be fighting off tears as she looks directly at you. “I’m worried about you.”

You force a smile, leaning forward. Your forearms rest on your knees. One would think it would get easier to say each time. Instead, it’s like picking at a scab that’s not healed. You’re forcing yourself to say something, your brain isn’t ready to accept. “I’m pregnant.”

Ellie sits up straighter, her eyes widen with shock. “Oh wow…”

You wonder if the pictures fill her mind too. She saw Maria the night Elias was born. She saw the blood that covered you. Joel’s fingers brush over your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before they run over the back of your neck. You lean against him. “I’m sorry we worried you. We’re still getting used to the idea,” You say. 

She nods and then her arms around your neck. She basically knocks you backward with the force of it. “I’m glad you’re not dying.”

You squeeze her tightly, a faint lilt of humor in your voice. “Me too.”

Then her voice drops to a whisper right at your ear. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”  

Your head rests on Joel’s bare chest that night. The full moon sends light drifting through your window, casting the room in a cool glow. You play absentmindedly with the hair on his chest. His heart beats under your ear. The room is otherwise silent. 

“I told Tommy today.” 

You nod. 

“He wanted to know why I was so quiet. Told him I was always quiet.”

That pulls a smile across your lips. “Surprised he shut up long enough to notice.”

Joel chuckles. His arm around you tightens. His lips find your forehead. “I know we’re not ready to think too much about it.”

“Don’t think it’s something we can really ignore.” You nuzzle further into him. 

“Baby steps.” He kisses your nose this time.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Baby steps? Really?” You flip onto your stomach while you still can.

He chuckles. “Poor word choice.”

You kiss his bicep and then his shoulder. He looks at you like your entire world and your stomach erupts in butterflies and twists in knots all at the same time. You still won’t let him say it, but you feel it every time he looks at you like that. 

You rest your chin on his shoulder. “What are these steps you had in mind?”

His thumb traces over your jaw and cheek. “Don’t bolt on me, okay?”

“I think it’s a little late for that.”

He chuckles and then inhales deeply. “I think we should probably share a house. I figured you’d prefer to stay here, but it’s up to you.” He searches your eyes for any signs of panic or signs that you might shut down but finds nothing. In fact, you’re so calm that it’s hard to read. 

“It would be nice to have you officially living here,” you say. It feels right to say, to think about. “And Ellie if she wants.” 

“That was easier than I’d thought it would be.”

“You pretty much live here as is.” You turn on your side, nuzzling back into him. “I’ll miss your fireplace though.”

Joel smiles. “Guess I'll just have to keep you warm instead.” 

[melonthesprigatito]

I still think that Kirby and the Forgotten Land had one of thd funniest pre-release periods purely because of how the Kirby Fandom has trust issues about adorable innocent looking creatures.

Everyone was INSTANTLY suspicious of Elfilin, and there was constant memes and predictions about how he was secretly evil and was totally going to betray Kirby and turn into an eldritch demon god abomination nightmare horror that would be the final boss.

I just crack up thinking about how confused the non Kirby fans or people who don't know much about Kirby were, watching the Kirby side of the internet being terrified of a flying green chinchilla.

This was my contribution to the Elfilin Distrust

The funniest thing was, despite the arguing and debating about whether or not Elfilin would betray Kirby and turn into the horrifying scarring final boss, when the game actually came out, everyone was both right and not right at the same time and nobody could have possibly predicted what ended up actually happening.

Elfilin isn't evil, he's just a normal friendly companion but also actually one half of a eldritch ALIEN demon god abomination nightmare horror and he ended up getting absorbed against his will by his other half to complete the Ultimate Lifeform and THAT was the final boss.

[luveline]

Pre moving in together:

Roan wakes up in the middle of the night with a nightmare and she’s begging for reader and Eddie doesn’t know what to do so he calls Reader who immediately is like “give me five minutes” and speeds over to the trailer at 3am

thank you for your request! eddie and roan. fem!reader, 1.2k

"What time do you call this?" you whisper through bleary eyes. 

"I know, I know," Eddie says, opening his arms to give you a grateful hug. "I'm sorry for waking you up, but she won't go down." 

Go down like she's a baby again. You don't mind crawling out of bed heavy-limbed and head pounding for someone like him. He kisses your cheek gently. 

"Where is she?" 

"In my bed with her head under a pillow. She was screaming crying until she heard your car outside, but when I told her you were here she just sniffed at me." Eddie leans back. Tummies touching, arms between you, he holds you by the shoulders. "You look pretty even when you're dead tired." 

"You look handsome even after a night from hell," you say, wiping a sleepy from the corner of his eye delicately. 

Eddie takes your hand, rolling your fingers in his. It's all slow like action through sand, the night time a heavy cloak. You follow him down the hall to his bedroom, the smaller of the two, immediately affronted by the thick air and low light. 

"Open the window?" you ask quietly, climbing on knees onto the mattress. Eddie's sheets are rumpled and warm, pushed back to the middle of the bed by aggravated feet. 

"Hey, princess," you say, putting your hand on Roan's stomach. She lays flat on her back, a pillow covering her head. You lean down so you can see her face as you lift the pillow up an inch, two. "Hello. Daddy says you wanted to see me, but you don't want to anymore?" 

Her cheeks are shiny with drying tears. You push the pillow back completely to see her best, her swollen eyes and downturned lips. 

"We can't hide under the pillows when you're this beautiful," you say, giving her a shake. 

"That's what I said!" Eddie agrees, sitting at the top of the bed by Roan's head.

He drops a big hand into her hair. Roan perks up at the attention, lifting her head enough for Eddie to slide his hand underneath it as a cushion. 

"Was it a really bad dream?" you murmur.

"Yeah," she whispers back. 

"What happened?" you ask. 

"It's… you…" Roan turns onto her side a little toward her dad, but she keeps your hand, holding it in both of hers weakly. 

"Did I do something to you?" you ask, concerned. 

"No, you just…" 

Eddie leans down to her level, whispering in her ear, "Tell her what you told me, it's okay." 

"I don't want to tell her." 

"Do you want me to say it instead?" Eddie asks. 

Roan nods and buries her face into the sheets. 

Eddie covers the top of her head with his hand protectively. "Roan had a dream that you went away for work and stayed there." He gives you a small smile. "I think she thought it was true when she woke up. I tried telling her you're still here." 

"I'm here." You slide forward on your knees, laying down as much as you can without crushing Roan beneath you. 

"But you weren't," Roan says tearily. 

Despite what you might've thought months ago, it's easy to make children feel better most of the time. Not always, of course, there are times where she's beyond reason, and there are times when the issue is too big, but nightmares can be willed away with a soft touch. You stroke her hair out of her face carefully before moving in for a hug. Your arms are too long, awkwardly bent.

"Nightmares are so silly, huh? I would never leave without coming back, princess. I don't even like those work trips, you remember? Daddy had to drag me to the airport and I came home early!" you say, enthusing your tone with cheer. 

Truthfully, you suffer the same sort of nightmare. Eddie's had this look about him for a while now, like he has something to say —a question to ask you— and you're terrified that you're seeing what you want to see. You love him so much you've convinced yourself a proposal is on the horizon. You're so happy you've thought about bringing it up yourself. 

The nightmares hold you back. You often have them awake (they aren't really nightmares at all, just expansive and pervasive worries), visions of a break up, Eddie putting his hand on your shoulder and telling you this isn't going to work. You've had a taste of this life and you know what you could build together with Roan, and the only way it would come to an end is if Eddie wanted it to. 

You turn your face to look at him, thinking. He's giving you a tired but loving smile, content to sit back while you have a say. He trusts you to take care of Ro, he knew he could call you in the middle of the night to make her feel better, the same way he's called you before to make him feel better. 

Eddie loves you. You have to trust that it won't go away without warning. 

"I know it's scary sometimes, because you don't really get to choose when you see me," you say, tentative, voice growing stronger as Eddie rubs your arm. "It's not fair, right? Daddy takes you to school, daddy brings you home, you go to uncle Wayne's on Sundays, and you only get to sleep at my house when everybody else decides, I know it's hard. I miss you like crazy, Ro. I can't even say it out loud sometimes 'cos it makes me teary," you say honestly. "I miss you and your dad so much I can't breathe, sometimes. But I feel better eventually 'cus I know your dad won't run away without telling me." 

"Where am I running away to?" Eddie asks. 

"Mistresses," you whisper. 

He scoffs and gives you a squeeze. "Sure." 

"I can't go somewhere without coming back. I'd miss you, so much, like a magnet, I'd get pulled right back." You hold your hand above her chest and drop it onto her collar without force. "Like this. Try and peel me off, you can't." 

Roan tries to peel your hand away. You stick. She grunts and really puts some force into it. 

"Guess we're stuck together tonight," you say. 

"Will you stay over?" she asks. 

"She has to stay over, babe. She has to keep me warm now she made me open that window," Eddie says. 

"Can I have a hug?" she whispers. 

You pull Roan into your arms. She feels right, a weight you were meant to hold. Eddie gets his arm around both of you stubbornly, whining about the cold and his 'selfish girls' hogging all the heat. 

"You need more pillows," you complain in turn. 

Eddie drags you onto his chest. "This better?" 

You dip your face to Roan's. "What do we think, Ro?" you whisper conspiratorially.

She knows exactly what you're asking from her. "Nope, not better." 

Eddie closes his eyes, groaning in faux pain. "Girls, please. I just wanna sleep now my Ro is okay, can we please sleep? I'll buy new pillows in the morning, I promise."

"Don't believe him," Roan warns. 

"I don't." 

"Girls. Sleep. Give me a hard time when I can see again." 

You and Roan laugh and burrow further under the blankets.