#like every time we venture out it’s a risk

[yournewfriendshouse]

honestly as someone who is really isolated post-covid, I have to reiterate just how much impact kind retail workers have on someone’s life.

like it just fucking…I haven’t been out of the house in weeks, you know??? and today I was met with kindness several times, and it just makes such a difference in a scary world when the contact you have with humainty is workers who get treated so shittily and still have patience for disabled people who take a long time to find their scripts or their card like…it just really has an impact.

please know that 💛💛

[thesirencult]

Lunar Eclipse In Pisces, Tarot Reading

@thesirencult

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Pile 1

“When a young tree is injured it grows around that injury. As the tree continues to develop, the wound becomes relatively small in proportion to the size of the tree. Gnarly burls and misshapen limbs speak of injuries and obstacles encountered through time and overcome. The way a tree grows around its past contributes to its exquisite individuality, character, and beauty. I certainly don't advocate for traumatization to build character, but since trauma is almost a given at some point in our lives, the image of the tree can be a valuable mirror.”

― Peter A. Levine, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma

How Will This Eclipse Change You?

Pile 1, things will get worse for you, before they can become better. Right now, you have been going through a period of upheaval. You feel as if though you have to watch every step you take. There might be people around you who are praying for your downfall. This to me shows that you are someone who takes charges and like to lead the way, otherwise, these people wouldn't have a reason to be intimidated by you.

This eclipse will shake things up. Expect a confrontation with someone, especially at work. You will find out who is by your side and who isn't. Be careful. Retreat and don't fight back. Tigers don't compete with kittens, for they know their power.

You are someone who has "grown around their traumas". This eclipse prompts you to escape your "in-between" position and show your teeth by setting even higher goals. Take charge, travel if you need to and never lose faith. Become more vigilant but not aggresive.

Kittens can not and will not stop a tiger!

What New Era Is This Eclipse Ushering You Into?

This eclipse is doing all the work for you. If you take a break or travel for a while, expect a different setting when you return to your familiar environment. Justice came out. I don't know why, but I get the impression you are someone who tends to suffer quietly. You don't like to give attention to petty people and small things others may find annoying. Keep doing that, but work through it internally. The Justice card is ushering you into an era of getting paid back your good karma, while those who wronged you are getting served theirs.

Another thing I see, is that in this era you will realize that every action has consequences, be it good or bad. This will offer healing and make you think twice before you do everything. You are a calm, cool and collected individual who may struggle with setting boundaries and taking responsibility because you don't believe you are good enough. Expect things to fall into your lap and getting celebrated for past successes. Get over your "imposter syndrome". You deserve to be rightfully compensated,

Where Is It Asking You To Focus Your Energy?

Focus on raising your risk tolerance and lowering your tolerance for bullsh*t! You have great potential for success, so act accordingly. Any ideas about new ventures you should turn into plans. Find wholeness within and don't wait for external validation, be it about your self worth or plans. Overall, stand on your own and be like a tree that withstands the jarsh conditions by bending with the wind. You are strong enough to let the storm pass.

Pile 2

“Through transformation, the nervous system regains its capacity for self-regulation. Our emotions begin to lift us up rather than bring us down. They propel us into the exhilarating ability to soar and fly, giving us a more complete view of our place in nature. Our perceptions broaden to encompass a receptivity and acceptance of what is, without judgment. We are able to learn from our life experiences. Without trying to forgive, we understand that there is no blame. We often obtain a surer sense of self while becoming more resilient and spontaneous. This new self-assuredness allows us to re-lax, enjoy, and live life more fully. We become more in tune with the passionate and ecstatic dimensions of life.”

― Ann Frederick, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma

How Will This Eclipse Change You?

This eclipse will make you sharper, quicker to act and ready to be strategic about your plans. After many trials and errors you have come to the conclusion that you're the only one who can change your life. You are becoming more stoic and pragmatic.

You are getting the bird's eye view, sitting high up in your throne like the queen/king you are.

I'm getting the message that clarity is here, not because of others but because of a change in your mindset that comes down to this: "I'm setting myself free from expectations and expecting. I'm choosing my battles wisely. I see things from a higher perspective."

Wisdom, truth and logic are the tools you are going to use to manifest your dream life.

From now on you will be guarding your heart and letting it rest for a while. Now, it's time for the sensitive heart to give the reigns to the cold head, just for now...

What New Era Is This Eclipse Ushering You Into?

This is perfect! I just saw a carousel on TikTok that talked about the "winter arc" and when it starts (October 1st). I'm getting that this eclipse is ushering you into your villain era/winter arc.

You are a very soft and caring person but you've had enough, haven't you? I'm not getting that in this era of your life you'll turn into a b*tch and go from one extreme to another. I'm getting that you'll simply use radical honesty with yourself, you'll cut out the fluff and use your empathy to empathize with the one who deserves it, YOURSELF.

I want you to know that after this much needed period you will see that only people with the beat intentions approach you. I'm not getting that you will be lonely, I'm getting that you will choose to keep your distance from toxicity. You may meet someone who is going after their goals too and you two become really great pals.

Where Is It Asking You To Focus Your Energy?

Very interesting...

First of all, share your gifts with the world cause this will lead you to material abundance. It's been reaffirmed that you are a generous and empathetic person. The Universe wants you to know that it's clearing out from your life those that are leeching off of your energy and are sticking around just to have a taste from the fruits of your flavour.

Since you will become more logical in this period of your life, you will see that certain people are better to be left in the past.

You need to focus your energy on making money, finding like minded souls who reciprocate your positive energy and also, SERVING karma. Be okay with being the villain in someone else's story. They wronged you first and now they just want to use you. Don't feel bad that you want them to watch you win, because they wanted to watch you lose.

Now, let them watch from the sidelines, while you are running towards success. It's going to be sweeter though, cause you will be so focused on the path ahead of you that you will not care about the bench sitters.

Take care !

Pile 3

“Every trauma provides an opportunity for authentic transformation. Trauma amplifies and evokes the expansion and contraction of psyche, body, and soul. It is how we respond to a traumatic event that determines whether trauma will be a cruel and punishing Medusa turning us into stone, or whether it will be a spiritual teacher taking us along vast and uncharted pathways. In the Greek myth, blood from Medusa’s slain body was taken in two vials; one vial had the power to kill, while the other had the power to resurrect. If we let it, trauma has the power to rob our lives of vitality and destroy it. However, we can also use it for powerful self-renewal and transformation. Trauma, resolved, is a blessing from a greater power.”

― Ann Frederick, Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma

How Will This Eclipse Change You?

As far as I can tell, Pile 3 needs to read both this pile and number 2! You are a complex person with lots of layers and reading both piles will help you gain two very distinct perspective on this next cycle taht will transform you COMPLETELY. It's not just about the eclipse, it's about the node change and the overall energy of the next 18-20 months. One of the two piles may not resonate right now, but in a few months or even a year it will be helpful to read it again for guidance.

The eclipse will change your perspective when it comes to your "all or nothing" attitude. Now, this change might have started already but what I see is that you will have a moment in the next month where you will realize that you have the ability to stand still while the world around you is moving. Before, you saw this as your inability to change and evolve but spirit wants you to know that you have the super power and luxury of following your own path. Your timing is way different than taht of others and your ability to move mountains while being still will help you advance in life. You see yourself as a walking contradiction but in reality, energy may manifest in different ways but its substance is the same. Stop beating yourself up and let your energy flow in different ways/wavelengths.

What New Era Is This Eclipse Ushering You Into?

You always get so close to the finish line but refuse to let go of the burdens so you never finish the race. The Universe is asking you to let go of expectations, negative beliefs and fear. Ask and you shall receive. Your options are confusing you, that's why they will fall away one by one. This new era is the era of shedding your new skin and of stripping down to the basics. You can not jump into cold water with clothes on, they won't help you even though they protect you at the shore, in the water they will weigh you down and you'll drown. Different things work at different phases, now it's a new phase and whatever was helpful before it's not working now. Paradigm shift.

Where Is It Asking You To Focus Your Energy?

Know that your life is headed towards a beautiful direction and trust your inner compass to lead you to this destination. Focus on improving your skillset and mindset and let yourself prepare for abundance. This next chapter is all about sharpening up before we climb the mountain. Thinl about it, if you had to climb up Everest wouldn't you want to be as prepared as possible. This last hump on the road is just a preview of the mountains you will climb.

[asvterias]

𝖡𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖣𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋’𝗌 𝖣𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 + 𝖣𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀!𝖢𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖫𝖺 𝖱𝗎𝖾

clarisse masterlist

clarisse la rue ✘ black!fem!demigod!reader (daughter of demeter)

word count: 1.3k+

author’s note: black!reader is described of having blonde hair. also hair texture is (h/t).

requested from anonymous!

the couple is definitely opposites attract, sunshine lover x sunshine protector, & friends to lovers! you can’t change my mind about that, this defines their relationship from the start!

at first, your relationship was kept a secret from everyone! no one expected your relationship from a mile away, not even your own half-siblings. you were the sweetest girl at the camp whereas clarisse was the meanest girl there so you understood their assumptions.

(annabeth had a hunch, but she kept quiet wanting to respect your private relationship)

she was the hot-tempered, intense, and mean gf whilst you were the calm, sweet, and loving mediator gf.

you were soft-spoken, kind, sweet, often being an optimist, inheriting those traits from your mother, demeter.

favorite nickname that she loves; my dangerous wildflower!

a favorite nickname that you love: my gorgeous girl!

your love for nature was unconditional and clarisse encouraged it, as long as you were safe. from a young age, you had a deep connection with nature that your mortal father couldn’t comprehend, but he didn’t stop you. instead, he planned daily camps out in the woods so you can explore and love the outdoors.

makes sense if you’re an outdoorsy girl, considering your power is at its strongest in the woods.

throughout your daily nature walks in the mid-afternoon with clarisse, you’d kneeled down, staring at the bare soil, telekinetically growing a beautiful daisy.

“for you,” you smile, sweeping the tiny flower behind her ear, securing a loose curl.

she’d falter, surprised by the endearing action, blushing intensely as she accepted it.

“thanks, babe.”

you kiss her cheek, intertwining your hands together as you two venture deeper into the forest.

to bypass quality time spent together, you’d do the other’s favorite hobbies or go on dates.

clarisse would train you to spar, often worrying if you accidentally got hurt. to be honest, she’s constantly stopping every few seconds to make sure you’re alright.

“babe, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

“darling, we didn’t even start sparring yet.”

“just making sure, wouldn’t want my gorgeous girl to get hurt.”

forest dates were often frequent for the two of you. packing a picnic basket filled with gourmet of different treats and sweets, spreading out a blanket on the forest floor and clarisse would rest her head in your lap as you rambled on about your day. her eyes would twinkle in admiration at your tactics as you two gaze at the many clouds floating above, purely just basking in the presence of each other.

clarisse suggested that you carve your initials into a tree for your 1st year anniversary but you politely declined that. you adored the sweet and swooning suggestion but you just couldn’t, the tree would have a marking, a permanent one, and nature couldn’t erase it away. as a child of demeter, trees are emotionally bonded to you, refusing the risk of feeling the immense pain it had to endure purely for the benefit of your love with clarisse. you hoped that she understood and thankfully she did.

at first, clarisse was intimidated by your powers but didn’t let it get to her head. she was so shocked yet impressed, despite not displaying it in her facial expression.

now whenever you show her your powers, she’d witness it in complete adoration. her favorite power of yours is when you communicate with animals, specifically deer. clarisse was certain that you couldn’t get any more cuter.

your powers consisted of many:

botanokensis is the ability to mentally and/or physically summon plant life, regarding fruits and flowers.

limiting your knowledge of how dangerous some of your abilities can truly be, like toxikinesis: which allows you to control and create the amount of toxins in a plant or fungus. you hardly even use this power because of the fatality it may cause against you or others.

it’s very rare to be given atmokinesis which is the ability to control climate, everything relating to the weather. luckily you gained that ability, but with a certain amount and limited time.

based on your emotions, especially anger or sadness, taphokinesis is decay manipulation, mentally/physically decomposing only plants. truth be told, if a majority of demeter’s kids are angry, most of the flora surrounding the camp would wither in seconds, including the trees. trees are oxygen so without them, everyone is as good as dead.

initially, you’re a fantastic chef, and as your gardening skills. gardening is your favorite hobby to do and it enlightens your day. during the day, it’s common to walk upon a child of demeter, deeply invested in gardening in their spare time. they’re definitely the leaders of gardening, you can’t convince me otherwise.

cabin 4 is surrounded by wildlife, anything and everything relating to nature, due to its close proximity to the forest. inside of the cabin is very homey, green blooming vines detail the cabin as a soft-like greenery carpet covers the floor. the entire interior was similar to actual nature rather than other cabins.

you’re very close with your half-siblings as you’re one of the oldest. your siblings look up to you and you try to be a good role model for them, even teasing you whenever clarisse comes around.

i guess it's possible to be a healer too, alongside persephone’s kids, discovering the remedies for various illnesses. some of your older siblings train in health care at the camp as healers.

sometimes, you create gifts homemade, flower crowns, and flower bracelets. anything you spent your hard time and effort on, clarisse would absolutely treasure it without any second thoughts. and it goes the other way around too. like she’d be so nervous at first, rocking on her feet, barely speaking with sense as she hands you the neatly wrapped-up gift.

bubbling up with anticipation clarissse would hesitantly observe your precise movements when unwrapping the gift and to see if your reaction shifted (even just a little) when the gift was revealed.

“do you like it…?” she nervously bites her lower lip.

your eyes sparkle in astonishment at her homemade gift, “oh, i love it, babe.”

a big ass grin would overtake her features, and she’d smirk definitely thinking: ‘oh i definitely knew that she’d like this!’ as if the ares girl wasn’t completely panicking over it a few minutes ago.

as you bring her in for a kiss. your girlfriend often resisted the temptation to linger on the kiss, but this time, she didn’t.

flower crowns are her favorite gifts from you. she has saved all of them, collecting them in her cabin on her bureau for keepsakes. the flowers don’t die out, your love revives them every day. (might make this into a drabble soon 😉)

take turns braiding each other’s hair, you adore each other's hair texture, clarisse was curly and yours was (h/t).

absolutely convinced her to wear flowers in her hair and sometimes you match with the same hairstyle and the same flower. you love it so clarisse immediately adores it.

to the other campers, it’s unusual to see clarisse so happy with you, and when you weren’t beside her, that mean personality would jump out so quick.

she’d scold anyone who had anything to say about you. clarisse would also glare down whoever dares to snicker at the pretty flower used as an accessory in her hair or anywhere on her body, cherishing the gift from you and she’d go absolutely livid. how dare they make fun of your gifts?! best believe, they’ll be receiving an ass-kicking later that day.

it was more common for clarisse to fight with someone and you’d be the one tending to her injuries (mostly little to none) afterward. you swear

that she intentionally starts fights in vain, or defending your name. without explanation, she’ll show up with a cheeky grin plastered on her face as you become her little medic.

TAGS BELOW:

@lvrue @ratjoe @mag03 @st4rzl7 @kroumi @lcvved @hoku-k @p0rkbun @zhivaxo @lacytalks @bumbl-eb @idkducker @guardianspirits13 @kazerka @liv444me @skittlesgirl @korizzybee @tinkerbelle05 @mariposa555 @inejsknifes @kyuupidwrites @xanasaurusrex @cherriesnbutter @justintinderlake4 @natasha-took-fall-damage @rocknr0ll @lixtinystay @2k7-sparkles @tinytea-biscut @dearlydarlings @importantpotato @kosmichs1 @applepie972 @julietxoxo123 @k4zuhas-visi0n @urbisexualfriend @marlswhore @anominous-writer @lovelyy-moonlight @laughingcheese037 @thegiganticgirlkisser @johanna-masons-lapdog @vi0lentg0d @igotanainhistory @thewritingbarbie @gabriellabailarina @radmugpartytrash @thedisapointmentfairy @buggieau @mariswift2

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© asvterias, 2024. please do not copy, repost or translate onto any other platforms without my permission.

[tired-biscuit]

Brothers best friend!Kiba who just can’t keep his hands off of you. Your brother leaves for the bathroom? His hands are up your shirt, and his tongue in your mouth. Your brother is making a quick snack run for their gaming night? That’s enough time for him to fuck you in the next room. It’s 3am, your brother finally passed out? Guess who is under your blanket already trying to get a taste of you.

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: brother’s best friend trope, fingering, size difference

you feel a hand sneaking underneath your shirt the second your brother ventures into the kitchen to grab himself something to eat and leaves you alone in the room with his best friend.

the touch itself is warm and hasty. rough fingerpads and a calloused palm travel across your stomach, briefly squeezing your hip before gliding upwards to the sensitive spot that’s right underneath your ribs. you arch into it on instinct; opening up and allowing it to go further, all the way up to your tits.

a kiss gets pressed onto the side of your neck. the slight nip caused by sharp canines makes the skin there tingle slightly. “hey.”

you exhale an adrenaline-fueled breath. “hi.”

“scooch over.”

“okay.”

you twist your body to the side, resting your back onto the arm of the couch, propping both feet on the cushions and allowing the man beside you to settle between your legs.

the smile that appears on kiba’s lips now is faint, but it’s equally as infuriating when he leans into your space and looms above you like some sort of menacing tower that you’re not at all afraid to conquer.

his forehead rests against your own. “you gonna let me touch ya a little?”

you give him a small nod that’s a mixture between eager and hesitant. “mhmm, yeah.”

he wastes no time kissing you. his lips press against yours greedily, tongue already gliding and pushing past your teeth as soon as you take that first shaky breath to try and steady yourself. you feel him explore the inside of your mouth with familiar urgency as he hunches his shoulders and brings your bodies even closer.

he tastes like the vanilla coke he just finished drinking earlier. it’s kind of dizzying.

and as if that wasn’t enough already, it doesn’t take long for the hand that he’s got under your shirt to slide down to the waistband of your shorts.

you tense up when he slips it under. turn rigid when a single finger starts to slowly circle your clit, moving dangerously closer with every swipe.

“relax,” he mutters. “you’ve gone all stiff on me.”

“you said a little,” you whisper, panting already. when he finally finds the spot and adds pressure to the bundle of nerves in answer, you can’t help but curl your toes.

“this is a little,” he says, quietly snickering against your cheek when you glare up at him. “what?”

“we should stop before we get caught,” you grit through clenched teeth, even though you wish to do just about anything but stop.

“oh c’mon, don’t be such a pussy,” he huffs, dragging his touch up and down your sticky slit. you’re easily wet from the risk and the thrill it brings, and it causes his fingers to outright glide. he thinks it’s hot as hell but he doesn’t say it because he knows you’ll attempt to punch him for it.

“i’m not,” you quip back immediately, trying not to stare at the playful gleam that’s appeared in his chocolate brown eyes now. “i’m just… nngh… i’m trying to keep us out of trouble.”

“well, i’m trying to get ya to cum on my fingers before your bro comes back from the kitchen,” he murmurs, barely containing the smirk of satisfaction when he sees you wiggling your hips in futile attempt to gain more friction. even your own body is working against you. “and besides, we’re in a fuckload of trouble either way… so shut up and lemme play with your pussy a lil’ while i still can.”

a soft moan slips out when he suddenly pushes two fingers inside you and curls them upwards without warning, stretching you out in a way that causes your knees to try and squeeze together despite him being there in the middle. your thighs tremble with desperation. god, that feels good after almost two weeks of nothing, even if you’re tighter than usual because of the nerves.

in an instant, he’s using his other hand to clamp it over your mouth… or most of your face, that is. the size of it alone is enough for your stomach to fill with countless fluttering butterflies.

“i mean it,” he hisses and his gaze is hard instead of playful now. his entire expression looks painfully tight as he stares at the hearts that have formed in your eyes. “shut the fuck up unless you wanna get us killed.”

oh, he cares. he cares about his friendship with your brother; the loyalty he’s supposed to be offering to his best friend. you’re meant to be prohibited territory, the girl he’s not supposed to be messing around with under no circumstances, and yet here he is: knuckle deep in your cunt and slamming you every chance he gets for several months now.

all it took was one very late movie night and an empty house. your brother had passed out on the couch, blissfully unaware of the shitshow that’s to come, and you’d sneaked away into the kitchen together to make yourselves some food, but had ended up fucking there instead.

bent over the counter in the dark, aside from the little light above the stove you’d flicked on earlier. experiencing his iron-like grip on your hips as he pounded away, trying not to drool from how much the size difference between you was fucking you up. feeling his fat cock splitting you open each time he’d bullied it straight into your pussy, making you wince because of the fullness residing there.

he’d felt so big behind you; so big inside you. and holy fuck, the risk… the freaking risk! it fueled your body with indescribable excitement and had made every last hair on the back of your neck stand to attention. it’s the reason why you’d decided to stay in the kitchen even as you were frantically tugging on the waistband of his sweatpants and he was pulling your panties to the side.

after all, it’d be tough to explain how he’d ended up in your room if your sibling were to wake up.

but as it happens, he didn’t. your brother had kept on sleeping, and kiba had kept on screwing you and fulfilling his longtime fantasy until he’d emptied his balls inside you and had left you dripping warm cum all over your thighs and even some of the kitchen tiles.

“your pussy feels even better than i imagined... goddammit, i’ve wanted you so bad for so long… so fuckin’ bad.”

you like him and he likes you — it’s been like that since high school, perhaps even before that. so you understand the harsh look that he gives you now as he continues to fuck you with his fingers in your dimly-lit living room and tells you to stay quiet.

he doesn’t want to lose you. doesn’t want to lose his best friend either.

it’s tough playing the loyal dog role.

but someone’s gotta do it.

[mpregdimension]

I melted back against the couch cushions, savoring the warmth of Santiago's muscular arms wrapped tightly around me. At 7 months pregnant, my belly had ballooned out enormously, though the sleepy Santiago still thought I was only carrying one big baby. If only he knew the truth that I had twin sons brewing in there.

"It's time for you to tell me how your three weeks in Colombia went. How're your parents doing?" I asked, craning my neck to nuzzle against his scratchy cheek. Santiago had just gotten back from another Colombia trip.

"They're good, babe" he mumbled groggily, planting a lazy kiss on my temple. "Mom keeps bugging me about when I'll finally bring you to meet them."

I managed a smile, though part of me worried his mother might not be as accepting of our relationship as she let on. Since I found out I was pregnant Santiago has stopped talking about his parents, children and friends like he did before, even though he travels to Colombia almost all the time to visit them.

"What about your...other family?" I ventured cautiously.

Santiago immediately tensed up, his eyes flashing open. "Paul, you already know I'm still in the same situation, there's no need to ask every time, please don't make me talk about that damn ex-wife," he grumbled, suddenly sounding more awake. "That shitty divorce is still going on for years, at least my boys are fine, busy at university without having to get involved in those problems."

Deciding to drop it, I just nodded and leaned back against his chest, breathing in his musky, familiar scent. Santiago nuzzled against my neck, his hands roaming down to cup my huge pregnant belly.

"Damn, you're getting so fuckin' big, babe," he purred in that deep, gravelly voice. "I can't wait to meet our little man."

Our little man...if only he knew. I worried my lip, debating whether I should finally tell him about the twins. 

Before I could decide, Santiago surprised me by whispering hotly in my ear, "You know...it's been way too long since I pounded that sweet ass of yours. Why don't we head to the bedroom so I can really go to town on you?" His breath was hot against my neck.

My eyes widened in shock at the bold suggestion, panic fluttering in my chest. As much as I craved intimacy with Santiago, I couldn't risk anything that might inadvertently trigger labor prematurely.

"Babe, I...I really don't think that's a good idea," I stammered awkwardly. "The doctor said rough sex is off-limits this late in the pregnancy."

He let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Who said anything about rough? I was thinking nice and hard...Help get you all loosened up down there for when the big day comes." His hand stroked along my thigh teasingly.

I gulped nervously, my heart pounding as desire warred with prudence. Part of me was tempted to throw caution to the wind. But the protective father within wouldn't endanger the twins.

"Please, baby," I pleaded, putting my hand over his to stop the sensual motions. "I want the memories of going into labor to be peaceful, not because we got too carried away fucking like animals."  

A frustrated groan rumbled from Santiago's lips as he begrudgingly pulled his hands away. His eyelids were growing heavy again, that burst of frisky energy fading. I could see him struggling between the urge to ravish me and the siren call of sleep.

Finally, with a defeated sigh, Santiago seemed to give in to exhaustion. "You're right, babe. We'll save that for after the little dudes get here." Within minutes, his breath had evened out into the steady rhythm of slumber. The lingering secret about my twin pregnancy is still burning in the back of my mind. Would it be better to keep it a surprise?

[meguwumibear]

Purged Without Exception

A quick trip to the store gets you into some trouble. Suo is there to bail you out.

thank you @/acidbeats for commissioning this piece for the @ficsforgaza collaboration.

cw: attempted sexual assault and minor injury

You’re not supposed to be out this late. You know this. You know better. The streets of Makochi are unsafe for a lone woman like you, for a woman without any sort of fighting prowess. They used to be, anyway, before the Bofurin boys took it upon themselves to bloody their knuckles to keep the place clean.

The initiative has been going on for quite a few years now, and crime has been on a steady decline ever since. The students have made it their mission to protect your humble little town from all sorts of illicit activity, violent or otherwise. Whether they’re responding to petty theft or physical assault, the Bofurin boys handle each and every job with a violent sort of grace. It’s been some time since a random street thug could stand a chance against the gang of delinquents.

Perhaps that’s why you felt so comfortable running to the store at this hour. The odds of any sort of crime of late are slim to none. Violent crimes in particular are less popular than ever. Who’d risk provoking the ire of any of the current Bofurin students, let alone the alumn? An idiot maybe, or someone suicidal.

You didn’t think to grab anything other than your phone and wallet for the outing. All you needed was to restock on toilet paper, and the market is only a few blocks from your shithole apartment. Four years ago, you would never have ventured out without some sort of self defense aid on you. The protection of the Bofurin boys has made everyone so careless.

That’s why you aren’t prepared to fight off the first pair of hands that wrap themselves around your wrist and yank you into a dank, dark alleyway. There are three men in total hiding out in the shadows, and soon there are hands wrapped around your forearm, your neck, your waist. The attack is uncoordinated; the men trip over themselves trying to grope at you. You do what little you can to fend them off.

Untrained. Defenseless. Your head throbs and it connects with warm brick. Skin splits at the contact, cleaved open by the abrasive clay. There’s a strong grip on the nape of your neck preventing you from moving. Cold, calloused hands hold your face flat against the wall.  

Despite your earlier lapse in judgment, you are not in fact stupid. You know what kind of attack this is. You understand its purpose and goals of the hands that bind you.

It’s hard to hear much over the roaring in your ears, but you’re just lucid enough to pick out an eerily calm voice.

“Excuse me,” the man asks almost cheerfully. “Have I interrupted something?”

The hands attempting to undress you stall.

“Fuck off, eyepatch. Four’s a crowd.”

The grip on you loosens a smidge, and you turn your head to survey the scene.

The guy with the eyepatch is standing with his hands held in mock surrender, a coy smile on his face. There’s something familiar about him. You’ve seen him around town before. He pals around with a few of the Bofurin graduates. Which means…

“Easy,” he says, “I just want to escort the lady home.”

“You deaf?” one of your attackers asks. “We said fuck off.”

The man moves so fast your brain hardly registers it. One moment he’s standing at the edge of the alley, the next he’s flipped the man pinning you to the wall over his shoulder. The dude lands with a harsh thud on his back. From the way he’s flopping around, you venture the impact punched the air from his lungs.

The fingers of the remaining two clench into fists, but they seem hesitant to assist their friend. They sway unsteadily back and forth on the balls of their feet, looking at you, their friend, and finally at your rescuer.

“Run along, now,” your savior smiles. The corners of his mouth are pulled tight, sharp like a knife. “I just had this shirt pressed and I’d hate to sully it.”

The two still on their feet exchange a final glance at one another and decide to cut their losses. They back out of the alley quickly, clearly afraid your rescuer may change his mind about dirtying his freshly pressed shirt. The third staggers after them, limping along, wheezing for breath.

Once he’s certain you’re alone, the man bends over to pick something off the ground: the toilet paper that started the whole ordeal. He approaches you slowly, like he’s nervous one wrong move will scare you off. When he’s close enough, he offers the roll to you.

“I hate guys like that,” the man offers conversationally. The smile he flashes you now is warm and inviting. “Some people just never grow up. A bunch of petulant kids. It’s hard for them to imagine themselves in your position. I enjoy helping them broaden their minds.”

The hand that reaches for the toilet paper is shaky. The palm is red with blood. His eyes don’t miss the tiny droplets that spill onto the plastic packaging.

“That looks like it hurts,” he says, features schooled into a calm grin. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He leads you back to the convenience store. The lady at the front recognizes him immediately—even calls him by his name—which isn’t unusual; the Bofurin boys are a bit like celebrities around these parts.

Suo exchanges pleasantries with the worker and attempts to purchase some first aid supplies, but the woman insists he takes what he needs, on the house. There are perks, it would seem, to purging the town of those who would cause it harm.

The bathroom of the shop is small and poorly lit. A lone, fluorescent light flickers above you as Suo gently dabs an antiseptic wipe along your palms. The disinfectant bites. The wounds sting despite Suo’s tenderness. You fight your instinct to flinch and fail.

“The cut isn’t deep,” Suo notes once he’s certain the lesions have been properly sterilized. He drops your palm to brush a tendril of loose hair out of your face. “I’m more worried about this.”

You wince as he touches a fresh antibacterial wipe to your forehead. Fresh tears pool in the corners of your eyes. You try to blink them away, but they insist on falling. They slide down the slope of your cheek bones and pool underneath your chin.

“I can walk you to the nearest clinic,” he offers. “Just as an extra precaution.”

You shake your head and immediately regret it. The motion aggravates the injury, and your vision blurs from the pain.

“Can’t afford it,” you tell him.

He frowns as he continues to see to the wound. His movements are slow, precise, like he’s used to treating these types of injuries. You watch his face as he tends to you. His features are knit in quiet contemplation.

“It looks like you hit your head pretty hard. I’m no doctor, but I’m worried they may have given you a concussion.”

You shrug as he pulls his hand away. “I’m tougher than I look. My friends always say I have a thick skull.”

He hands you an ice pack from the pile of first aid supplies he’s brought. “For the swelling,” he says. Then, once you’ve pressed the cold pack against the growing bump, “You should take better care of yourself. If not for you then for your friends. I’m sure they’d hate if something were to happen to you.”

You let out a long, slow breath. Suo isn’t wrong. Your friends would be devastated if you got yourself into some sort of trouble.

“Bofurin boys are good for more than just fighting,” you say, pondering his advice and admiring his first aid.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he smirks, lips full of promise. “You have no idea.”

[promitto-amor]

How lucky you are to have me

Pairing: Mark Hoffman X You

Summary: You save Hoffman from the bathroom and he is eager to make up for lost time.

Warning: SMUT! Swearing (Hoffman says fuck alot, it's canon), gore/death references.

Alrighty it was about time I wrote a smutty Hoffman fix while I'm still in my Saw era. And I get to write my own little 'Hoffman escapes the Bathroom', because we all know it's happening! Enjoy kittens.

You could hear his screams from down the dank corridor. They sounded hoarse, no doubt from the wildfire rage that often consumed him these days. Your footsteps echoed loudly, at every corner you thought someone may jump out and apprehend you, but the route was void of all life. All that remained was darkness and a trail of dried blood.

You press your palms against the industrial door and give it a push. It doesn’t move an inch. The Doctor had been certain that there would be no escape.

The screams from inside stop as you slot a hairpin into the lock and after a couple tries you hear that telltale click. You heave the door open only to recoil at the stench of decayed flesh and death that greets you.

Shoving your sleeve in front of your nose, you walk into a nightmare. It’s dark enough that only outlines are visible, a line of cracked mirrors, a toilet, pipes, skeletons. Fishing in your coat pocket, you shine your torch around the bathroom and it lands on a skeletal foot. You almost drop it in your haste to move away, as you venture deeper into the bathroom. Goosebumps arise on your forearms at the disconcerting sound of a chain slithering through the dark.

“Took you long enough.”

You run your torch up bare feet and a shackled ankle, continuing upwards. Mark Hoffman flinches as your torch hits his face and you lower it to his chest, “I had to be sure they’d all left.” You return, taking a glance over your shoulder. “I’m taking a colossal risk myself.”

“Then get me out quick.” He hisses, dropping his eyes to the shackle.

“What happened to your grand plan?”

Hoffman holds up a key, “New shackle. No fucking keyhole.”

You make a sympathetic noise which deepens Hoffman’s scowl, “How lucky you are to have me.”

You drop your backpack beside him and root around inside. Hoffman watches your every move. You hand him the torch, “Shine this in the bag, will you?” He does as asked, “What did you bring?”

“I wasn’t sure what I’d be facing.” You take out an angle grinder and a grin winds onto Hoffman’s face. You switch it on and the sound of the churning saw blade sounds far too loud. You glance up at Hoffman, “If I cut you, it isn’t intentional.”

Hoffman looks like he has half a mind to yank the angle grinder out of your hands, but instead he swallows and takes a measured breath, “Just do it.” You lower the saw blade and almost miss his last few words, “I trust you.”

Steeling yourself, you align the circular saw blade with the steel and keeping a firm grip, start slicing through the shackle. There’s already chaffing around his ankle, no doubt from Hoffman’s attempts to free himself in the hours before you arrived. You hardly breathe as the blade works through and then you pull the saw blade back when there is only the smallest join of steel left hanging together. “Maybe I should have just cut the chain and we deal with the shackle later?”

Hoffman seizes the shackle and gives it a brutal tug. The shackle snaps and you wonder whether it was weakness in the metal from how much you’d sawed through, or Hoffman’s adrenaline-fuelled force that gave him his freedom. You switch off the angle grinder and shove it back in your backpack as Hoffman stands. He throws the chain away from him and then he’s towering above you. His broadness always throws you off-kilter, no matter how many times you stand before him. The circle of light from the torch jumps around the bathroom as Hoffman takes a step closer. He seizes you by the back of your neck and crushes his lips to yours. You can’t move, not with the death grip he has on you. You had no chance to breathe before it happens, leaving you to make a pathetic noise for Hoffman to release you. You disconnect with a gasp and take a deep breath before yanking him in by his jacket for a second kiss. Your hands grip onto him for dear life as Hoffman secures his own round your waist.

This time he’s the one to break the moment, “Let’s get out of this shithole.”

You’re more than eager to leave the foul bathroom behind. You can’t imagine Hoffman stuck in there slowly wasting away. A man so powerful and dangerous he brought an entire police precinct to the verge of extinction. You still don’t know if fear or admiration drives your lust for him. A heady combination of both pools inside you as you loop your arm in his and the two of you make your way back through the maze of corridors as fast as you can. “We should burn it to the fucking ground.” Hoffman says as you both emerge from the trapdoor.

“Enough fires for one day.” You say, leading the way to your car parked out front. “The Doctor got paged for surgery, but his lackey’s might come back.”

“Doubt it,” Hoffman returns as you open the car door for him. “He made sure I’d die in there. He just didn’t know about you.”

You take the driver’s seat as Hoffman slides in with a grunt. You lock the doors and glance over your shoulder as you reverse out, “If it were me, I’d stake out for two, three days. Knowing your survival rate, I’d make sure you were dead.”

There’s a beat of silence, “Then I’m glad it wasn’t you.” Hoffman returns, looking out the window.

You clamp down on a smile as you head back to your own apartment. Now and then you check in your mirrors that you aren’t being followed. Your house is roughly forty five minutes away from the Nerve Gas House, but the drive goes fast. Hoffman spends the time calculating. Occasionally his eyes slip over to you and you meet his gaze. He’s just as impatient as you.

When you finally enter familiar streets, you speak up, “I was thinking Chicago.” You prompt, “Another city, lots of people to disappear in. Or Florida, no one asks questions there.”

“I don’t care where we go.” Hoffman returns, “So long as I can put Jigsaw behind me.”

You have to admit you’re relieved to hear it, “You promise that?”

Hoffman waits for you to meet his gaze. He nods, “I lost sight for a while,” He says, “But not again.” His gaze returns to the window, now streaked with rain. “I want out. He can have it all, it’s not fucking worth it.”

“It never was.”

You pull into the driveway and park, “Open the glove box.” You order and Hoffman smirks at what he finds. He holds the gun with such a practised hand, adopting a casually defensive walk as he scopes out the house. You walk in front with Hoffman backing you up, better the Detective wield the weapon than you. As soon as the door is open Hoffman is pushing you inside and slamming the door shut. He slides the lock in place as you shed your coat and hang it up. When you turn back round Hoffman’s hands are already preying at your waist. His lips descend to your neck and you let him have access to all of you.

His touch grows desperate, tugging at your shirt, “We should see to your ankle.” You say, but Hoffman silences you with his lips again.

“Later.” He commands and you let him press you into the wall besides the coat rack. You unzip his jacket and heave it off his broad shoulders, dropping it on the floor behind him. Hoffman pushes his body against you, you can feel him hard. You lift your arms obediently as your shirt is removed, which earns you a gruff, ‘good girl’ from the impatient Detective. Your hands descend to his jeans zipper as Hoffman’s hands roam over your shoulders, down to your back and then he’s got your bra dangling from one hand. He tosses it with his jacket, Hoffman’s lips travelling from your neck to your collarbone. A whine escapes you as he suckles there, adding to the bruises he left only days ago on your skin. Fuelled by your noises, Hoffman’s restraint snaps. With a couple tugs your trousers are by your ankles and Hoffman winds one of your legs around his waist.

His low groan brushes against your lips, “Bedroom.”

It isn’t a question, but you nod anyway and Hoffman throws you over his shoulder. The world tips upside down as a laugh escapes you. Any other time Hoffman might have slapped your ass, but tonight he’s all about urgency. The bedroom door thuds open and then you’re being dropped on the bed harsh enough that you bounce on impact. Hoffman tears his hoodie off and off with it comes the dark shirt underneath. You smirk at the sight before you, a shirtless ex-Detective, his chest heaving from the night’s ordeal. Your eyes drop to his full pecs and on catching where your stare has gone, Hoffman smirks when your eyes meet his again.

“The longer we leave that ankle the more likely it’ll get…”

Your words die when his jeans come off and in the blink of an eye, Hoffman has crawled on top of you. He pecks your lips, “Doll, shut the fuck up.” He leaves more kisses with each word, between your breasts, on your stomach and then just above where your panties rest. You suck in a breath of apprehension as Hoffman’s eyes shine with desire. He dips lower, parting your legs. You take a sharp intake of air as you feel his tongue lick a hot stripe over your clothed vagina.

“Oh wow,” Your hand rakes into Hoffman’s hair, “Please…”

You keep your eyes on the ceiling as Hoffman continues to lap at you. Tingles of pleasure spike through your system and your fingers tighten their hold. Gentle fingers slide your panties off, but you daren’t look at him. Hoffman delicately traces his tongue along your most sensitive area before close his mouth over your clit. Your back arches, sensations pinging in your synapses as he starts sucking at you. He chuckles darkly, “Always the same reaction,” He mouths, placing a kiss just above your centre and then his face is centimetres away from yours. 

“Because it always feels so good.” You reason, stroking over his scarred cheek as you try to catch your breath. You feel him hard against your thigh as Hoffman lines up with your entrance, “Already?”

“Sorry sweetheart, I can’t wait.” He murmurs, already pushing in. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders and your mouth falls open. The sting of Hoffman’s cock stretching you intensifies everything. A couple tears leak out and Hoffman’s eyes widen, “Fuck.” His head falls to your neck and with a quick thrust you cry out as he sheathes himself fully inside you. It’s like you’ve flipped a switch, your glassy eyes and sheer vulnerability pushing Hoffman into a frenzy. His hips thrust hard against yours, eager to fill you with as much of him as you can take. The bed shunts against the wall as he fucks you hard enough that it’s better to rest your head on the pillow than try to meet his eyes again. You can hear his grunts of pleasure in your ear as Hoffman swells, a litany of filth spilling from his lips. “That’s it. Fucking take me. Gonna enjoy every second.”

“Please,” You’ve lost all coherency. All you can do is let him fuck you into the bad and take what he needs. Your hands fall to either side of you and Hoffman takes advantage of your submissiveness. His big hands take a wrist each as he uses the new leverage to bend one of your knees with his leg. The deeper penetration makes you jolt as your orgasm bursts fast and staggering enough that your brain feels like it’s melting.

“That’s it.” Hoffman continues, his voice strained as he too draws nearer his finish. “My beautiful fucking wife, always there when I need you.”

“Always,” You bleat as your husband cums deep inside you. His grunts turn to laboured breaths, as Hoffman sags and gives into his exhaustion. Your hands cradle his head as you hold him close. In the afterglow of your orgasm more tears prick at your eyes. Holding him now, treasuring the stroke of luck that was on your side, despite all of Hoffman’s careful planning. You could have lost him so easily. So many scenarios could have put you in that wretched bathroom alongside him.

When your clarity returns, Hoffman is slowly pulling out and rolling onto the space beside you. You curl over so you can settle in his arms, like every night. His fingers play absently with the closest strands of hair he can find, “I mean it.” He murmurs, “I’m done. Tomorrow we’re getting out of the state, laying low.”

“How are we gonna do that?” You ask, “You’re the most wanted man in the country and me by association.”

“I know someone.” Hoffman says, placing another kiss to your forehead. “Ex-military, Iraq. He has connections and owes me for keeping quiet.”

You can’t help a sigh, but it is for the best, “So long as you put the games behind you, that’s all I ask for.”

“You and me.” He nods, “Like before, like it should have been always.” Your eyes get heavy and Hoffman drapes the blanket you both keep on the end of the bed over you both. You look up at your husband, but Hoffman is lost in thought. After a couple minutes he looks down at you, “Perhaps I can cut a deal.”

“You’d have to have something huge to barter with.”

Hoffman smirks, “I reckon I could work something out. There’s a Doctor and his little Pigheads I’m sure they’d love to hear about.” 

[abbyromanoff]

TARGET 1

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2581

WARNINGS: bottom!Nat, kinda dark reader, Mommy (R), smut obvi, mentions of face riding, hand jobs, breeding, little!Nat, praise, pet names, Nat is referred to as “bear” a lot, small angst, wrote this in abt an hour so it’s not that great :/, think that’s all tho :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Screams echoed through the dark alley, and Nat cursed herself for not thinking to cover the victim’s mouth. Someone could hear, and with the news of the recent killings spreading, she didn’t want to risk finally being caught.

The blood oozed out of the man’s wound, and Nat smiled as she grabbed her camera. She examined her surroundings, making sure nobody was nearby before she took multiple photos, placing them in her pocket after making sure they were perfect for you. She sent a text your way, updating you on her completion before removing the mask and cloak, placing them in her bag while she placed a single headphone in, making sure she looked like a normal citizen and not a killer who just took away the life of an innocent man. You told her to be safe on her voyage home and received a quick photo of her grinning with a thumbs up, giving you all the closure you needed as you set up the bath. You ensured the water was hot so it would cool to an even temperature by the time she was home. You placed her favorite toys in the pile of bubbles and ventured into the kitchen, waiting for the oven to set off and to hear the twisting of keys to your shared apartment.

“Mommy? I’m home!” You heard a giggly Nat alert you, causing you to peek your head out of the room. She smiled when she saw you and tried rushing forward, only to be stopped by your voice.

“Ah, ah, what’s the rule with shoes in the house?” She looked down, noticing a small trail of blood she left on the floor. She rushed an apology and placed them on the rack next to the coat hanger, continuing her way to you and throwing her arms around you in a hurry.

“Mm, I missed you, bear.” You placed your hands on both of her cheeks, squishing the plush skin before leaving a quick peck on her lips. Her dimples shined under her large blush and you chuckled, placing one last kiss on her forehead before grabbing her plate of food.

“I know you must be so hungry after all your hard work today, I thought you deserved a little treat.”

“Breakfast for dinner? Oh, thank you, Mommy!” You knew it was her favorite, and while it was a bit of a hassle, you’d rather spend half an hour cleaning if you got to see her smile so large. She poured the maple syrup over her waffle before grabbing the whipped cream, only to be stopped by a hand.

“I think it’s best if Mommy does that for you, we don’t want you dirtying up your shirt, now do we?” You also knew she loved to go over the top with sweetness, whipped cream being one of those. While she deserved a lovely treat, it was best if she didn’t plow down piles of food and complain later on about stomach pain.

“Would you like me to cut your waffle for you, love?” She grappled onto your arm, resting her head on the soft skin as she watched your every move.

“Yes, please.” Her mouth felt empty, usually, she had her pacifier to soothe her in times of calmness like this. So, she took to biting her lip instead, a habit you’ve been trying to have her let go of.

“There you go. Why don’t you eat up and you can tell me all about your little adventure tonight, okay?” She nodded, instantly taking her fork and picking the piece she saw first. You sighed with contentment before taking the seat across from her, occasionally feeling her foot slap against your leg as she swung them happily.

“I even got a bunch of pictures for you!” She concluded her rant, reaching into her pocket where the Polaroids were stored.

“No talking with your mouth full, bear,” You reminded her, making her stop as she swallowed the nourishment before continuing. She placed each of them on the table, taking a sip of her apple juice before explaining each one.

“And guess what? I stabbed him, like, a billion times! I forgot to cover his mouth on accident, so I made sure to leave before anyone heard him or saw me.” You nodded along with her statements, standing alongside her as the two of you cleaned each dish.

“Now, baby, you need to make sure you’re being careful, I don’t want you to get caught.”

“I know, Mommy, I promise I’m usually really careful, but I got a little excited this time.” The man wasn’t a terrible person, but in her mind he was. He was your boss and had been setting unrealistic expectations for all of his workers, including you. This meant longer hours and more stress, which also meant less time that Nat got to spend with you. You tried making it up to her, and she didn’t blame you, but she knew this was the best gift she could offer you. After all, you do so much for her, you deserved a thank you.

“That’s alright, we’re just going to need to wait a little bit longer until we find someone, this time.”

The two of you quickly finished the load of dishes, thankful that there wasn’t a lot. You led her to the bathroom, helping rid her of her clothing before she settled in the bathtub. She played with the toys, allowing her giggles to be presented instead of shying away. She was never appreciated in the ways you showed her, so being able to remove that ounce of fear she held felt undeniably relieving.

“Mommy, can I ask you something?” She asked in a low voice, clinging onto the towel you wrapped around her. You furrowed your brows but gave her permission, your worry only growing as her gaze faltered to the floor.

“Do you really think I’m good at this type of stuff?” She had been trained her entire life to kill, it was all she ever knew. She was of the highest rankings at such a young age, but the constant competition and downgrading she received failed to fill her confidence. All she ever wanted was to be good enough, and now that goal was even more important with you by her side.

“Oh, honey, of course, you are! I’m always so proud of you and your work, nothing will ever change that.” She sat on the edge of the bed, the cracked window causing goosebumps to erupt on her naked skin. You took the signal to shut it before returning, kneeling before her as you patched up a small cut on her knee. She eyed the Frozen bandaid with a smile, running her fingertip over the area before returning her gaze to you.

“But you don’t seem as excited about it as before, am I doing something wrong?” Her lips formed into a pout that she tried to hide, only to be exposed as you brought her face to meet yours.

“No, that’s not it at all. I’m so sorry, bear, I’ve been so stressed over work, and with the holidays coming up, I guess I’ve been neglecting you as a result. I’m so sorry, it was never my intent to hurt you.” She relished in the fact that the truth was now out and she could be at ease, but she felt saddened at your reaction. She didn’t want to hurt you, but now you were the one with a heavy heart.

“No, it’s okay! I- I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing something wrong, I’m not mad at you.” You rubbed her sides gently, taking the seat next to her as you wrapped your arm around her small frame. She rested her head on your shoulder out of instinct.

“You did so well tonight, I think I’m going to hang those photos up on the fridge so I’ll always be reminded of how talented you are.” Her legs rested on top of yours as she kissed your cheek in appreciation. You chuckled, doing the same to her while your hand rested on her thigh. You inched further, watching her shuffle impossibly closer to you as a result.

“You know what I think? I think that my girl deserves a little reward for just how well she did.” Your thumb made contact with her tip, the action bringing a shiver throughout Nat’s body. She grinned through a bitten lip, her cheeks turning a shade of red as you removed the skin from her teeth.

“You need to stop that, baby, you know I don’t like it.” She rushed a quick apology before a small gasp left her. She removed the towel from her lower half, only to see your hand now wrapped around her length, stroking a continued motion slowly.

“M- Mommy, that feels really nice.” You hummed, your eyes falling to the area of attention. You removed your hand, causing a whine of disapproval from your girlfriend. You shushed her, guiding her to lay on her back as she spotted her stuffed animal. It was a plush dinosaur that you got her years ago, she still cherished it. You pressed a kiss to her forehead before doing the same to the soft creature in her arms.

“Close your eyes, I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” She questioned when you stood in front of the door. You turned to look at her as you removed your shirt, exposing the black bra to her eyesight. They widened, her cock hardening even further before you closed the door behind you. She tried to follow your orders of sitting tight and closing her eyes, but the anticipation was so high. She wanted to know what you were doing, she wanted to feel your touch again. Her palm lowered down her body without realization, and she couldn’t hold back the whimper as she brushed over her balls. They were so sensitive, but you always said that was your favorite part about them.

“Natty, baby? Are your eyes closed?” She retracted her hand instantly, hoping you wouldn’t get a glance at her antics. You were never one for letting her touch herself, she suspected that wasn’t going to change tonight.

“Yup!” She heard the door squeak and had to fight the urge to look, but she remained how you wanted her, and she knew that pleased you when she heard small cooing.

“Aren’t you just the cutest little girl ever? Mommy is so, so lucky to have you, bear.” You ran your cool hands against her nipples, resulting in the buds hardening. She stifled a moan as you went lower, your fingers tracing over the same area she had just teased. She hoped you couldn’t tell, she never knew how but you seemed to know everything, especially when it came to her.

“I could just…eat you up!” Your hand enclosed around her cock, creating the same movements as you started earlier. She was grateful to have the return of your touch, but it wasn’t quite enough. Her hips thrusted with every stroke, her desperation being made clear to anyone who could see her.

“Oh, did you need something?” She whimpered when you came to a halt, your thumb collecting the pre cum from her drooling tip. You rubbed it over her bottom lip, letting her get a taste of the sweet nectar you grew addicted to.

“You, I…I want you.”

“But you have me, don’t you?” Your condescending tone brought her to quiver in excitement and fear.

“I need to be in you, Mommy…please?” You crooned, hovering over her length and letting the head tease your folds. You moaned, rubbing your clit in small circles. You continued until she couldn’t bear it anymore and finally let yourself soak in the pleasure, and allowing her to feel your warm walls clenching around her.

“Fuck, my little girl is so big, can barely even fit.” You groaned, interlacing your fingertips with hers. She seemed content with the praise and let her hips follow your movements, hoping she was doing it correctly in order to make you feel good, but that was quickly proven by your high-pitched moans.

“Right- right there- ah! Don’t stop, baby, don’t you dare fucking stop!” You leaned your face down, admiring the fact that she continued to comply to your request even in a state of such arousal.

“You can open your eyes now, bear.” She fluttered them open, blinking twice as she came to register the sight in front of her. The mask covered your face, the black paint looking into her eyes and she suddenly felt like someone else. She was no longer the killer, she was the victim.

“You like the mask? Yeah? Good, I was hoping you’d say that.” Your pants caused your chest to heave, your breasts bouncing in her face as a result. She removed a hand from yours, using her digits to caress the soft peaks before wrapping her lips around one, then switching to the other. The coil in her stomach tightened with each clench and each thrust, her eyes squeezing shut as she forced herself to slow down.

“Don’t hold back, bear, I want to feel your cum so deep inside of me.” She looked at you one more time for permission, using your short nod as approval to let go. Her teeth bit down gently as a result, causing you to hiss as she hurried to explain herself. You cut her off before she could speak, and she found herself unable to do so as she painted your walls white. You let her ride out her high, finding yourself unable to care for the orgasm you threatened yourself into having. It was cut short, and Nat wasn’t going to allow that.

“Mommy-”

“Shh, shh, don’t worry about me, just fill Mommy’s pussy.” Your tight hole greedily accepted her, and your womb greedily accepted her seed. You felt so full, but you were nowhere near done.

“You see this?” You pointed the knife in front of her, she gulped in fear before it led into hunger. You led the weapon to your chest as you leaned back, drawing it from the bottom of the mask to your lower waist. You grasped her palm, placing the knife in her hand as you allowed her to sit up. When doing so, her cock maneuvered inside of you, bringing a shudder of pleasure from both of you.

“I want you to mark me, baby. I want every single fucking soul to know exactly who’s Mommy I am.” She smiled, letting the object slowly and barely seep into you, it was just enough to leave a mark but nowhere near as bad to injure you greatly.

“And I want you to tell me while you write just how much of a good girl you are, and just how much Mommy loves their little bear.” You pet her head, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as she continued. You felt your hips threatening to repeat from earlier but held off until she finished.

“There, all done.” ‘Owner of Natty Bear’ was sloppily written on your skin, the blood dripping down your side as you praised the younger female.

“Mm, you did so good, Princess. Now, I think Mommy deserves a little treat, as well, yeah?” She nodded happily. “Alright, lay down, Mommy’s going to ride that cute face.”

[roosterr]

bad idea

note: my contribution to gazfest 2023! check out @glitterypirateduck for the prompt list and more info!

paring: kyle 'gaz' garrick x gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

no use of y/n

genre: oneshot promts: 14. 'you're in trouble now' & 19. 'stay still'

summary: you do something dumb to get you and kyle out of a bad situation. he patches you up.

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood and injury, light whump, fluff, established relationship

ao3

of course, you’d expected resistance as you pushed into the building, but the crowd of enemy soldiers you ran into was a lot more firepower than you’d predicted

everything happened so fast; price, ghost, and soap dived one way, and you and gaz dived the other in the same moment the enemies opened fire, effectively separating the five of you and planting the seed of dread in your stomach.

before you knew it, you’d been cornered in a room, the only way out being the door you’d come in through, which was now crowded with people who very much wanted you dead. there wasn’t much in the way of cover in the room, but there was a large, sturdy table that you and kyle had flipped onto its side so you could hide behind it. a few hostiles had ventured closer to try and finish you off, but those foolish few quickly met their death.

you were well and truly pinned.

price had radioed that they’d make their way towards the two of you as soon as possible, once they’d taken out their own pursuers. the only thing you could do until then was try to survive and kill as many hostiles as you could in the process.

you aim down your sights, bones aching more and more with every second, but when you pull the trigger, all that meets your ears is an empty click. the noise sends an ice cold wave through your veins like an omen of death.

you're out of ammo.

shit.

"i’m out!" you call to gaz, and in response he shoots you a fleeting wide eyed glance.

"just hold tight," he calls back, furrowing his brow as he fires shot after shot, "reinforcements are on the way, we just have to stay alive ‘till then."

he tries to sound confident, but you can tell he's just as panicked as you are. your eyes dart around the space, desperately pulling at threads to find a way out of this impossible situation, to make it out alive – to make sure kyle makes it out alive.

it's then that you spot it.

a grenade, on the vest of an enemy solider you'd shot earlier.

his body wasn’t far, but it was beyond the cover of the table, meaning to grab it you'd have to run into open fire; but if you got it, it was a guaranteed way out of here.

you glance back at kyle, still returning fire with his own limited supply of ammo. he hadn't noticed the explosive, still focused on the group guarding the door, but he couldn’t defend your position forever. you'd be risking your life if you went for it, but you'd both be killed if you didn't.

it was a terrible idea, but you were doing it anyway.

with a sudden burst of renewed energy in your exhausted muscles, you launch yourself towards the body from your crouched position, wasting no time in pulling the grenade from his vest – except it wasn’t as easy to grab as you’d first assumed, there was a strap holding it in place that the tremor in your hands made unclasping difficult.

in the back of your mind you hear kyle scream your name, but he’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

your heart is in your throat as your fingers miss the strap once, twice, and finally get it free on the third try.

you snatch the grenade and prepare to bolt back to cover, but before you can move a blinding pain shoots through your leg, knocking you off balance causing you to tumble backwards.

you’re hit, you realise that much, but through the panic you can’t focus on anything else. you desperately try to shuffle backwards, towards your cover, but without the use of one leg you just can’t seem to move fast enough.

another bullet whizzes by your face, just catching the skin of your cheekbone and leaving you with a noticeable slice. you can’t dwell on how close a call that one was, however, because before you can react you’re being yanked backwards by the strap on the back of your vest.

you hear gaz’s voice calling to you again, his words passing through one ear and straight out the other.

mustering all your remaining strength, you rip the pin from the grenade, push yourself up on your uninjured leg, and pitch the grenade through the doorway with surprising accuracy considering how much your head was swimming.

no sooner than the grenade leaves your fingertips, gaz has an arm around your waist and uses it to haul you to the ground with him. he doesn’t get the chance to scold you before the explosion, both of you squeezing your eyes shut at the flash of light and the boom that makes your ears ring.

when you pry open your eyes, kyle is hovering above you with his hands supporting him on either side of your head, glaring at you with a fury you've never witnessed from him before.

if you weren't so distracted by the agony radiating from the bullet hole in your thigh, you might have had the mind to be flustered by the position. but thankfully – for your dignity, at least – you don’t have the mental capacity to be embarrassed.

"you're in trouble now," he growled down at you, sharply pushing himself off you and leaving you heaving air into your lungs on the floor. you watch him peer over the table, gun poised as he waits a second or two for any movement, but he doesn’t fire.

if the eerie silence is any indication, it sounds like your slapdash plan actually worked.

"what the fuck were you thinking?" kyle yells, ripping the small medical pack from his vest and dropping to his knees next to you as he rifles through it.

"i was– ugh–" you grunt as you agitate your leg sitting up, "thinking, i’m gonna save both of our lives!" you hiss, leaning your back against the table.

"and let yourself get killed in the process?" he pulls out a roll of bandages, piling the material onto your wound and leaning on it with all his weight. a pained groan escapes your throat before you can stop it, but kyle doesn't relent. "you really think that's a good plan?"

"i would if it meant you would live!" you cry, gripping his wrist and clenching your jaw so tight you were worried you might break a tooth.

"just–" you jerk with a yelp when he shifts his weight on your leg, "stay still!" he sounds almost pleading, stunning you into freezing where you sit.

kyle sighs deeply, sitting back on his heels and dragging a hand down his face. when he drops his hand again, your heart clenches at the sight of his glossy eyes and conflicted expression.

"kyle…" you reach a weak hand out to him, resting it on his upper arm, and he snaps back to reality. with a slight shake of his head, he grabs a fresh handful of bandages, putting his weight back on your wound as quickly as he could.

"you're lucky it went clean through." he mutters, sounding significantly more choked up than he had before. "never pull that kinda shit again, you hear me?"

you smile, the pain twisting your expression slightly, and move your hand up to cup his cheek. "not plannin’ on it, garrick."

the bleeding has slowed significantly by now, allowing kyle to lift one of his hands to cover the one holding his face. your thumb strokes the rise of his cheekbone, exhaling as the tension melts from your shoulders. even with the ringing in your ears, the lack of gunshots was almost peaceful.

"oi!" kyle jostles your shoulder, your eyes snapping back open where you hadn't realised they'd fallen shut. "you're not allowed to die on me, love, i'll kick your arse if you do."

"i'll keep that in mind." you breathe an airy chuckle, giving his cheek a gentle pat and dropping your hand into your lap.

there's a pause in the conversation, as kyle grabs more bandages and concentrates on your leg – which had more or less stopped bleeding thanks to his efforts, but despite this, you could still clearly see the panic in his eyes.

"hey," you call out to him, his gaze snapping up to you with a concerned frown. you grin, and gesture for him to come closer, pointing to the small cut on your face. "you missed a spot."

kyle rolls his eyes. "you're an idiot." he chuckles, wiping as much of your blood from his hands as possible before swinging one of his legs over both of yours. he's careful not to touch your injured leg when he leans closer, cleaning the dried blood on your cheek and covering the cut with a large bandaid.

once he's sure you're not bleeding from anywhere else, he takes your face gently in both hands and presses a featherlight kiss to your cheek, right over where the cut was.

"there," he utters, moving to kiss your forehead, then your nose, and finally pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. "all better."

you bring your own hand to rest on his back, smiling against his lips as you press your forehead to his. "yeah, all better."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 47

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Note: look, i'm trying to focus.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You run your thumbs over the suede cover, “for me?” 

“A new journal, sweetie,” Steve smiles. It’s the first time you’ve been to his office since... well, since Andy. It’s been almost a week since you left. “A fresh start.” 

“Oh, uh... it’s so cute,” you admire the embossed dove in the corner. 

“Just like you,” he purrs. “It’ll help in the next phase of your treatment.”  

You look at him and wince. There’s a shift in his posture, a certain click. He’s Dr. Kemp again, not Steve. Not, as he says when he has his arms around you, your husband. You bite your cheeks and rest the journal on your lap. 

“Next phase?” 

“Yes, well, you just start using that and we’ll get there. For now, let’s check in. How are you doing? How are you feeling?” He asks in the gentle cadence that soothes you. It’s almost as if he’s a totally different person there. 

“I think... I think I’m okay. I...” 

“Sweetie, come on, this isn’t home. We have to do real work. So, let’s talk about Andy.” 

You grip the edges of the journal and shrink down, “do we have to?” 

“Now, you know we have to. You can’t keep running away. That was very intense, wasn’t it? Leaving.” 

You put your head down and nod, “yeah...” 

Silence. He waits and sniffs. He shifts and sighs. That noise, that release of breath, makes you shudder. It reminds you of Andy. 

“Are you still afraid of him?” 

You nod again. 

“But you’re safe. With me. So why are you afraid?” He prompts. 

You let go of the journal and wring your hands atop it, “I don’t... I dream of him. He’s angry and... he’s chasing me or... I’m locked up and he won’t let me go--” you cover your face and shake your head, “no, I don’t want to think about it.” 

“Now, Dove, we are making progress. You can’t just do that every time you get scared, right? You go so far and then you immediately pull back,” he tisks. “So let go into that more. You’re afraid of him. Why?” 

You flinch and look at him. You pout, “he hurt me. You know--” 

“Right now, I don’t know anything. I need you to tell me.” 

You stare, open-mouth, horrified. You couldn’t even write those things down. You swallow dryly. He nods and leans forward.  

“Take your time.” 

You look down. You can’t look at him. You wallow in the tension and suck in air through your nose, letting it over from your mouth. 

“He... he... he kissed me when I didn’t want to. I never asked... never said... and he touched me,” you eke out. “And... it hurt when we were in bed together--” 

“Sweetie, you don’t need to be shy. Sex is natural, we both know that. If you aren’t completely honest with yourself, let alone me, you can’t work through this,” he coaxes. 

You sniffle and scratch your nose. “He held me down...” 

You close your eyes as it trickles out. Little by little. It builds to a stream with your tears as you recite all the things Andy made you do. The things he said to you. How he said without saying it that he would hurt your sister. 

“Good job, sweetie,” Steve praises. “Why don’t you take a break, come here?” 

You jolt up straight and blink at the room. You nearly forgot he was there. You catch the journal before it can slip off your lap and hug it. It’s your shield. 

Steve rubs his thigh and you stand up. You cross to him with tiny steps and he reaches for you. He directs you around to sit on his lap. He rubs your shoulder as he lean into him. He tickles along your neck. 

“Alright, so, let’s work on your journal, sweetie,” he slips the pen from his chest pocket, “here.” 

You take it from him. He curls his arm around you and opens the journal, holding it over your legs. You click the nib of the pen out and peer down at the blank page. 

“Well...” he shifts beneath you, spreading his knees wider. As he does, you feel something. Him! He’s hard. You put your head down and shakily hover the pen over the page. 

“What do I write?” 

“Hmm, well, I can get you start,” he wiggles under you so his dick presses against your ass. “’Today, Dr. Kemp helped me. We talked about my trauma and now I won’t be afraid of Andy because I know the doctor will protect me.’” 

You write without thinking then pull the pen back and reread the words. You gasp. “Trauma?” 

“Why, yes, sweetie, you understand now what he was doing, right?” 

Your eyes burn again and your wipe your tears away with your sleeve. Steve’s hand flutters up your naked thigh and he plays with the hem of the skirt he picked out for you that day. You nod and gulp, biting your cuff. 

“I understand,” you murmur around the fabric. 

“And that’s the first step to sorting out all your feelings. You did a very good job today,” he pets your thigh, higher and higher, “you trust me, right? You know I mean it, I’ll protect you.” 

“Yes, yes,” you squeak. “Of course.” 

“Mmm,” he purrs and puts his lips against the shoulder of your sweater, “we’re all done, sweetie. You did so good.” 

“I did?” You bat your webbed lashes and drop your hand. 

“Oh, yes, you did,” his other hand comes up to nudge your chin as he feels along the front of your panties, “gimme a kiss, sweetie.” 

Your stomach does that thing. It flips but this time, it hurts. You turn in his lap and press your lips to his and daintily touch his cheek. You like touching him, just like that, small little curious brushes. He smiles against your mouth and pokes his tongue inside. 

He groans and rubs your pussy through the cotton. You clench your legs around him as his other hand cradles your head. The journal falls to the floor forgotten as he grunts and twitches. He prods you through his pants once more. 

“Sweetie, you’re hurting me,” he utters against your cheek. 

“Oh, no,” you try to push off of him, “I’m sorry--” 

“No, no, I just need... need you to help me,” he purrs as he leans back and looks you in the face. “Sweetie, did I ever tell you how pretty your mouth is.” 

“What?” You can’t help but smile and his eyes cling to your lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, when... when we are you know... together, I always watch it. The way you curl your lip when you cum...” he drags his thumb along your lower lip. “Do you wanna use your mouth on me? Like I do you?” 

Your chest pounds and your ears singe. You only ever did that with Andy and you didn’t like it but you like Steve and things are nice with him. You bite down on your lip and his eyes fixate on the movement. You squeeze his hand between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you answer as you trace along his cheekbone. He is so handsome and his eyes are so brilliant and bright and he’s taken care of you. And you want to enjoy the time when it’s the two of you. 

You squirm and he lets you go. You get off his lap and he groans again. He drapes his arms over the chair and leans into the puckered leather. He sets his feet wider and watches you. You stand before him, buzzing with nerves. 

“Go on, sweetie, you’re in control.” 

You hesitate. Huh? You only ever do what others wanted. But he’s handing you the reins and now you feel you might get tangled in them. 

You come close again and look down at the bulge in his pants. Your eyes round and you look at him. He urges you on with a nod. You grab his pants and flick open the fly. You’re trembling. You finally get his zipper down and fall to your knees. 

He groans and wriggles in the seat. You reach into his boxers and pull him out. You hold him lightly and he drones, “tighter.” You squeeze and drag your hand up to his swollen head. He shudders and grips the armrests until the creak. 

“Oh, sweetie.” 

“Does it hurt?” You ask. 

“No, it’s good,” he growls, “oh, baby, please, put it in your mouth.” 

You stare at his dick. You can’t look him in the face. You lean in and breathe warmly over him. He twitches again. You press your lips around him and he voice rumbles from his chest. He grunts as you spread your mouth over his tip and slide him inside. 

You push your tongue to him as you move your hand down to his base and he whimpers. 

“Dove,” he reaches to cradle the back of your head, shoving you down, “like that.” 

You take him until you nearly gag. He lets you up but not off, pushing you deep again. He rocks his hips in time with his guiding hand. 

“Touch yourself, too,” he orders, his timbre turning gruff. 

You hum around him and keep your head bobbing. Your spit plasters over the side of your hand and around your lips. The sucking noise fills your ears and curdles deep in your stomach. You’re both intoxicated and disgusted by the sloppy act. 

He says it’s up to you. You can’t stop if you want to, right? But you don’t want to stop. 

You snake your hand down under your skirt. You touch where he had. The cotton is wet. You slip your fingers around the edge of your pants and flick over your clit. You whine around him and he moves you faster, up and down his length. A saltiness mingles with your saliva. 

“Ooh, sweetie, oh, you’re so good. So good. You treat me so good, don’t you?” He snarls as he clutches your hair in his fist. “Mmm, do you feel good too? Are you wet? Mm, I know you are. Just thinking about the way you take me, I’m almost... I’m about too...” 

You try to pull off as you feel his pulsing in your mouth. He doesn’t let you. He holds you in place and pumps his dick into you from below. 

“No, please, I want you to taste me, baby. Don’t you want to taste me? Mm, I know you do. Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Are you ready, baby? Swee-ee—etie.” 

He spasms and cums, filling your mouth and throat. You choke and it shoots up your nose so you can smell it. You cough around him and your spit and his semen dribble out around him and leak onto your hand. He lets you go and you pop your mouth off of him and spit into your hand. 

“Mm, I’m sorry, sweetie, I couldn’t hold it,” he cups his sac as his dick flops against his pants. “You’re too good.” 

“It’s... okay,” you rasp and swallow what you can. “I just...” 

You pull your other hand free from your panties and search around for a tissue. You get to your feet and wobble around to the box on his desk. You stop at he red streaked down to your knuckles. Shoot. 

“Oh...” you stare at the mess, “I think...” 

“Mm,” he groans as the chair echoes him, “ah, that’s okay, sweetie, I don’t mind a bit of blood.” 

“I’m sorry,” you quickly wipe you fingers clean. 

“It’s natural, sweetie. It means you’re healthy,” he purrs. “You know, you should put that in your journal too. Track your cycle, make sure you’re regular. Stress can really affect your flow.” 

“Oh, I guess... sure...” you turn back to him as he plays with his softening cock. 

“Mm,” he strokes slowly. “I still wanna feel you on me, sweetie.” 

“But--” 

“I told ya, I don’t care,” he sits up and sighs. “How about you bend over the desk? I like your bum.” 

“Oh,” you nod and face the desk. You can say no, you just have to say it. Say it. “Okay.” 

He stops behind you and pushes his pants so they heap at his feet. He grabs your hips and wrenches your skirt up. He scratches you as he pulls down your panties and you squirm in embarrassment. You don’t want him to get all bloody but he says it’s not a big deal. You don’t want to disappoint him. 

“I’m a doctor, sweetie. You know, it’s good to do this while you’re menstruating,” he bends his knees and pokes along your cunt. “It helps with cramps.” 

He thrusts into you, forcing you to your toes and you brace the desk to keep from falling forward. He grips the back of your neck, his other hand tight on your hip, and he ruts into you. There’s no patience left in him and you really just want it to be over. 

[dateko]

˚｡⋆ [4:01 AM] GOJO SATORU

a/n: it has come to absolutely no one's surprise that i have dropped yet another poorly written timestamp in which two people lie in bed... i spent the rest of the day wallowing in self-pity and typed whatever this mess is... enjoy!

The day barely rises and the moon faintly lingers when Satoru wakes for yet another tedious work trip. Allowing himself to indulge in the quiet, the sorcerer’s eyes trace every inch of the figure sleeping beside him, committing every line and dot to memory. A soft mumble leaves his lips, internally fighting himself with the thought of having to leave you alone once again.

He watches you fondly with a familiar sense of longing. He wonders if you’re aware of how much he thinks about you, how much his heart burns at the mere thought of you, wanting only you to be with him. You came into his life so suddenly, catching him in a moment that threw him into a whirlwind of weakness. Yet even after all of it, after every twist and turn, Satoru is nothing but proud to be yours.

Beneath the bulky comforter, your limbs are intertwined with his in a perfect tango. Like a puzzle piece, you’re slotted perfectly against his broad chest, face buried beneath the white tufts of hair. Satoru sighs again, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he plants a feathery kiss atop your temple, signaling his inevitable departure.

To this, do you begin to stir, grumbling and muttering something Satoru isn’t sure he can decipher. His hands cradle your head, thumbs sliding across your heavy eyelids as he watches you open your tired eyes in a way that he thinks could kill him instantly. With one eye fully open and seeing, you look at your partner with a pout, tilting your head to feel more of his warmth. 

Already knowing where he’d be off to in a few minutes, you still offer him a pair of pleading eyes. “Not yet,” Your hand finds his wrist and the croak in your voice causes you to wince. “Can’t you stay?” 

The two of you know more than well that the answer was out of the question. Yet you both continue to hold on and relive this same morning exchange time and time again, trading turns in a dance to ask the other if they could simply just… Stay. 

For Jujutsu sorcerers, there is never an option, nor is there a choice to stay. With the line of work you share, there are only so many of you that can go on missions. Always going, fighting, leaving. Nothing is ever enough, and no one ever stays. So many of you repeatedly risk lives and fight without end. And if there isn’t you, there’s Gojo Satoru. He goes where he’s needed, and he goes anywhere where he can to rewrite the world. The very world that was altered the day he was born.

When you remind him of this, Satoru looks at you as if he’s ventured through every universe. With a voice so confident and unwavering eyes that hold nothing but truth, he answers that the only place he needs to be in is with you. 

“Sweetheart, we both know I can’t be late… Again.” Gojo whines, dropping his hand from your face.

“Oh? Since when did you care about being late?” 

“I don’t.”

“Then stay here with me, just for a little bit.” You try again, poking him beneath the covers and encasing his waist with your legs. “Don’t tell me someone’s cursed you…”  

He laughs at your words, a smile reaching his ears. You’re too much like him these days. The simple thought of that scared him. The way you act so carefree, how you can still smile and readily take on anything that may come your way. It lights a fire of fear in him, knowing you’ve placed all your trust in him. That wall you’ve once surrounded yourself with crumbled completely just by his existence alone.

“The only curse I have is you.” Satoru teases, flicking your forehead. You let out a groan and pull yourself into him, trying to be as close to your lover as possible. Satoru can’t help but hold you tighter, almost as if you’d slip away from his grasp. Whatever mission he had today could wait for a few more minutes. The warmth that you radiated was a more pressing matter.

“I’ll tell you what…” You trail off, eyeing the way his deft fingers play with your own. They seem to linger around your fourth finger, playing with something imaginary, almost as if there was something sitting there. “I’ll let you go if you can escape my grasp!”

“What a challenge.” Satoru smirks.

Your attempt to cage the strongest in your arms is fruitless from the very start. There was no one that could ever counter his strength. They would be a fool if they even endeavored in such an act. The sorcerer is swift in his moments, and within a blink, you are pushed flat against the pillows. 

Hovering over your delicate figure, a winsome smile graces his lips. “I win.”

Huffing, you bring your palms up to frame his sharp face. Satoru mirrors the gaze you have on him, watching your features carefully, afraid to leave you out of his sight. He wonders if you knew that the world he fought so hard to protect was holding him so delicately. 

“Be good ‘til I get back, okay? We can stay in bed all day long.” 

[sickwhispers]

PLAYING FAVORITES

Pairing: Dandy x reader

Relationship: romantic

Warning: no warnings surprising, are you guys shocked

Type: headcanons + drabble

It's no secret that he picks favorites

"Dandy, I appreciate the sentiment but..." you stare at the medkit in your hands, a confused look on your face as you attempt to understand just why he had given it to you. You definitely didn't need it, and you certainly had all your hearts intact. The only wound you had received during the last floor you had ventured into was a tiny scratch you had made yourself. Which had been a complete accident when you found yourself tripping over a capsule and onto the floor. "I don't need this..."

"Nonsense! Take it, free of charge! We don't want our greatest friend dying any time soon, do we?" He winked, nudging the first aid further into you. It seemed like he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Hey, uh- I need one too." Oh god, Vee looked terrible. Normally, only one of her antennas would be bent. But, this time, it had looked like a twisted had tried to forcefully rip the other one off her head. And when that didn't work, decided to scrunch it up and tug at it until sparks came flying out of its base. The left side of her screen had been cracked, a long line running down from top to bottom with tiny strands breaking off near the edge. Just one look at her and it was almost obvious that she had lost a heart, and probably would've lost the last one had she not gotten into the elevator on time.

Dandy took one look at her, his smile never wavering as he spoke. Although, if you looked close enough, you could see the strain behind it. "Two hundred tapes."

Safe to say the others would catch onto this little trend after a while

He pretended he wasn't biased when it came to you

Acting dumb like there was no difference in the way he treated you, compared to how he treated everyone else

Sure, he would smile and wave, act nice just to keep the tapes rolling in

He was still their friend, he couldn't just be mean

But, he couldn't doubt how special you were compared to them

Day one he was practically at your beck and call, even before everything had turned to ruin

He knew things were different now, he knew you probably wouldn't let him do all the things he used to back when you didn't have to worry about the possibility of having some corrupted version of your friends tear you to pieces

But, he could still dream, couldn't he?

He couldn't help but indulge in fantasies every now and then

Letting his head rest in his hands as he watched you interact with the others

Sure, he would've preferred if your attention was on him

But, he could pretend he didn't mind sharing

Although, sometimes he wasn't so good at it

He'd miss the days when you'd let him just lay beside you

His head on your stomach as he'd pick at the floor beneath you both, mindlessly staring up at you in an almost dazed like look

The others used to tease him about it

About how well known his feelings for you were, and yet he never wanted to admit it

After all, what would happen if he did?

There were risks he had to consider when it came to telling you how he felt

And he never liked any of them

He almost preferred keeping them a secret, letting them fester inside until they were practically pouring out of every crevice in a desperate attempt to keep himself sane

Maybe you were the reason he hadn't gone crazy yet

But, if you kept your attention straying from him for a bit too long, there's a good chance he might just lose it

Make sure to talk to him every round

Say hello, tell him about the twisteds you encountered, share how you made a mistake when extracting ichor from a machine and almost run into a wall while trying to hide

Anything. Just anything.

He needs it.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

9: ONE

Chapter 8 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 10

SUMMARY: You run away with the Winter Soldier, a man who has recently discovered his identity and is in search of his truth.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warning: SMUT: Mutual hand job, Fugitive situation — If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so I can add it.

Your heart was pounding, the blood rushing through your ears so loudly that you could barely hear anything he was saying. There was a feeling bubbling up inside you, a potent mix of excitement, fear, and anticipation that threatened to consume you whole. Your breath came hard and fast as these turbulent emotions threatened to overwhelm you, your chest rising and falling rapidly. But through it all, your hand remained firmly in his, a grounding anchor amidst the storm raging within. 

The darkness had fallen early where the clandestine facility was situated, far removed from the trappings of real civilization. The dismal weather offered convenient camouflage, the overcast skies and biting wind masking your presence as you scanned the area, searching the shadows for any sign of your soldat. Just as the feeling of dread began to creep in, his hand suddenly clamped over your mouth, muffling the surprised yelp that escaped your lips at his abrupt appearance behind you. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as the world narrowed to just the two of you, hidden away from prying eyes in the enveloping darkness. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was nearly overwhelming, but his steady presence grounded you, reminding you why you had risked so much to be here, in this precarious but electrifying moment.

“Shhh, Kotyonok. No noises.”

His voice was a deep, authoritative whisper, the harshness of his tone at odds with the gentleness of his touch against your mouth. He held you firmly, his body a solid presence pressed against your back, his hand a warning against any further sounds. His breath was warm against your ear as he spoke again. "Follow me.”

You followed him, your feet stumbling occasionally over the uneven snow-covered ground. The world around you was a blur, the snowflakes dancing in your vision like swirling stars. His hand was a strong, guiding presence, pulling you along without pause or hesitation. He moved with purpose, his steps swift and sure, leading you down alleyways and side streets, always keeping to the shadows, avoiding the dim pools of light cast by the street lamps.

As you moved, your mind was racing, desperately trying to come up with an escape plan. But there had been no time, no opportunity to discuss anything of the sort. You were both acting on instinct alone, following Soldat's lead blindly, trusting him to keep both of you safe. You could sense his tension in the rigidity of his body, the way his grip on your hand tightened every time you stumbled or slowed. He was on high alert, his senses sharp, his eyes constantly scanning the shadows for any hint of danger. 

Soldat's mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and calculations. He had a plan, but it was not one he had been able to fully think through. It was more instinct than strategy, more desperate gamble than foolproof escape. He had spent precious minutes scouting the area before coming for you, searching for the most efficient route out of the town and into the vast expanse of wilderness beyond. It was a dangerous venture, one fraught with risks and uncertainties.

"Where’re we going?" You whispered.

Soldat paused for a moment, pulling you into a small alleyway between two buildings. The shadows concealed you well, the only light coming from a single, dim street lamp at the end of the alley. He turned to face you, his eyes meeting yours in the darkness. "Somewhere safe," he replied, his voice a rough whisper. "Somewhere they won't find us.”

"Where, Milyy?"

Soldat's heart clenched at your question. He wished he had a better answer, a definite destination he could name. But he didn't. All he had was a rough plan, one that relied heavily on luck and the element of surprise. He sighed deeply, leaning against the cold brick wall behind him. His eyes flicked downwards, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

"We're going east. Towards the river. There's a farmhouse there. It's isolated and remote. We should be able to lie low for a while.”

Soldat gently pulled you along once again, his hand still firmly around yours. He moved carefully, silently through the shadows, his footsteps making almost no sound against the snow. You followed him, your footsteps slow and faltering. The snow was starting to fall more heavily now, making the ground slippery and treacherous, but Soldat seemed unfazed, his stride never faltering as he made his way towards the river.

Soldat felt you stumble, his grip on your hand tightening as he slowed his pace momentarily, allowing you to catch up. He kept his gaze straight ahead, his expression unreadable in the shadows. He knew you were struggling to keep up with him, your steps slower and more labored, but he couldn't afford to slow down. Every minute counted, and he could feel the urgency of the situation like a weight on his shoulders.

“Sorry, Kotyonok.”

He could see the tiredness in your eyes, the trembling of your body as you struggled to keep up with him. It tugged at his heart, but there was no time to rest, no time to stop and catch your breath. He glanced back at you, your face barely visible in the darkness. His voice was a mere whisper, a soft, ragged edge to it.

"We're almost there," he reassured you. "Just a little further.”

Just when you thought you couldn't go any further, Soldat pointed out something in the distance. You followed the direction of his gaze, your eyes struggling to make out anything in the falling snow and fading light. For a moment, you saw nothing, just the endless expanse of white snow and shadowy trees. But then, faintly, you saw a silhouette flickering in the moonlit distance.

Soldat nodded, his grip on your hand tightening momentarily. "That's it," he said. "The farmhouse. We're almost there.”

Soldat helped you settle by the fireplace, wrapping the blankets tight around you as you shivered slightly. Lighting a fire was out of the question. Even the smallest flicker of light in the window could give away your location and alert your pursuers to your location. The farmhouse was small but cozy, the shelter and isolation offering a much-needed respite from the bitter cold outside.

He pulled you closer to him, the blanket wrapped tightly around both of you as you sought each other's warmth. His flesh arm was wrapped around your shoulders, his body a solid presence against yours. He was silent for a moment, his body was tense, his senses on high alert as he listened for any signs of danger outside. You watched him listening to the quiet stillness of the house and the faint sound of the falling snow outside.

He tensed for a moment at your touch, his body instinctively responding to any contact. But then he relaxed, his muscles unfurling under your hand. He looked at you, his gaze soft and tender in the dim light.

"Sorry," you whispered.

He shook his head slightly, his gaze locked on yours."Don't be sorry," he whispered back. “Your touch... it grounds me. It helps.” He placed his metal hand over yours, covering it with his own. The cool metal contrasted against the warmth of your skin. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a silent reassurance.

"Do you hear anything?”

Soldat tilted his head slightly, his senses straining to pick up any sound in the stillness of the farmhouse. His ears were tuned to the slightest noise, his body taut and ready for action at a moment's notice. He shook his head slightly after a minute. "No," he said softly. "Nothing. Just the sound of the snow outside. We're safe... for now, at least.”

You were both silent, contemplating your choices, the decision you had made to flee from HYDRA.

"Tell me again," he asked, suddenly. Soldat's voice was quiet, but there was an intensity behind his words. His eyes flicked to your face, searching your expression in the low light.

You looked at him in confusion for a moment, trying to grasp his meaning. And then you understood. He wanted to hear it again, to remember the words that had started this journey. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking softly. "You’re James Bucky Barnes," you said, pronouncing each syllable carefully. "Not the Winter Soldier. You’re more than what they made you. You’re free.”

“You’re from Brooklyn, New York. You were born in 1917, on March 10th. Your best friend is Steve Rogers, Captain America. You fought in the second world war, in the 107th unit but you were part of a special team called the Howling Commandos.”

Soldat - Bucky - was silent as you spoke, his eyes fixed on your face as you recited his history. He drank in your words, processing each one with an intensity that was almost physical. With every name you mentioned - Steve Rogers, the Howling Commandos - the memories stirred deep within him, faint at first but growing stronger with each passing moment.

He sat frozen, his breath coming in short, sharp puffs. The words were like a lifeline, pulling him back from the darkness of his past, reminding him who he truly was. His eyes never left yours as you spoke, his expression intense, as if he was trying to hold onto every syllable, to commit each word to memory. With every new detail, his expression shifted, recognition and realization slowly washing over his face. His eyes widened slightly, his expression almost pained, as if the memories were both a revelation and a torment.

"Buc-ee..."

His voice was rough, the syllables coming out slowly as if his mouth was unaccustomed to forming the words. He repeated it again, the nickname rolling off his tongue with an effort. The foreign sound of it was unfamiliar and yet, somehow, it felt right. He repeated it, his voice rough and ragged.

"Bucky," he repeated, his lips forming around the syllables. He looked at you then, his eyes searching for confirmation, for reassurance that he had said it correctly. He fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. But then he blinked, his eyes clearing and sharpening once again as he focused on you.

“Why?” he asked.

You tilted your head slightly, not quite understanding his question. "Why what?"

He looked at you intently, his eyes studying your face in the dim light. He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, struggling to find the words to express what he was feeling.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice a low, barely audible whisper. "Why did you help me?”

It was a question you'd been asking yourself. Why had you left the security of your position to run away with a man who didn't even know who he was?

You had contemplated your decision the night before as you lay awake, waiting for him to come out of cryostasis. "Because you deserve more, because this isn't who you are... because... I love you.”

Bucky's eyes widened at your words. He hadn't expected that. But as he looked at you - your eyes, your face, your expression - he saw the truth in them. He understood then, the depth of your feelings for him, how much you had cared for him even when he hadn't remembered you. It was a strange sort of paradox, your intense connection and devotion to a man who was both himself and yet not himself at the same time.

He felt a mixture of emotions then, a cocktail of gratitude, guilt, and something more tender he didn't quite want to name. His heart gave a painful lurch in his chest, and he found himself struggling to speak for a moment. He was not used to expressing himself, not emotionally, not about things like love. But for you, he would try.

"I..." he started, his voice hoarse. "I don't deserve you.”

"You deserve so much more. You deserve to know who you are, you deserve to live a life of your choosing.”

Bucky stared at you, he had spent so long not thinking about what he deserved, living in the shadow of his past actions, that your words were almost too much to bear. He took a shaky breath, his gaze not leaving yours. "I don't know who I am. There's so much in my head... memories, thoughts, feelings... I don't know what's real and what's not.”

“Let me help you.”

He wanted desperately to believe you, to trust you, but there was a part of him that was still wary, still distrustful. He swallowed hard, his hand clenching unconsciously in the fabric of the blanket. "You'd... do that? You'd help me?" he whispered.

"I'm here, aren't I?”

A small, humorless chuckle escaped Bucky's lips. You were right. You were here, risking everything to help him, to be with him. He looked at you, his eyes softening as he took in your expression.

His right hand came up to cup your cheek, his flesh and bone fingers gently caressing your skin. "Yeah," he said softly. "You are.”

Bucky's touch was gentle but possessive as he leaned in to kiss you. His lips were soft, a stark contrast to the rough stubble on his face. He tasted of bitter cold and a hint of fear, and yet, underneath it all, there was something else - something undeniably warm and familiar.

He pulled you closer to him, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck, keeping you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth. Bucky felt the shift in you, the way you pressed closer to him, seeking more contact, more intimacy. His touch was a desperate caress, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, your thighs, every inch of skin he could reach under your thick coat. He pulled down the zipper, longing for more.

Bucky's hands stilled as he felt you shiver under his touch. He looked at you, his eyes dark and intense as he realized the effect his touch was having on you. A spark of concern flickered in his gaze, and he shifted you slightly so you were tucked tightly against him, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice husky.

"It's fine, I'll be fine," you answered, dismissively.

He raised an eyebrow at your response, his expression saying that he didn't believe you. Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He studied your face for a moment, taking in the way your teeth were clenched together to keep yourself from shivering.

"You're shivering," he pointed out, his voice a low murmur.

Bucky's hands moved gently as he zipped up your coat, his touch careful and considerate. He knew you were frustrated, wanting more, but his concern for your well-being outweighed his own desires. Sitting back, he studied your face, his expression torn between pulling you into his arms and his need to keep you safe. As you placed your hands on his face, Bucky felt the warmth of your skin against his, your touch gentle and soothing. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into your palm and savoring the sensation - a tenderness he was unaccustomed to experiencing.

"I just... I don't want you to get hurt… because of me," he whispered.

Bucky's breath caught as you kissed him, his body instantly reacting to your touch. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tight against his chest, craving to feel you, to have you as close as could be. His lips moved with yours, the kiss starting soft and tender, but soon intensifying with desire and passion. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, one hand gently cradling the back of your head, holding you firmly against him.

"Still feeling cold, Kotyonok?" He murmured against your cheek.

His whispered words, the low timbre of his voice, and the gentle caress of his lips against your skin sent a delicious shiver down your spine, igniting a smoldering heat within you. You instinctively pressed your body closer to his, craving the warmth and comfort of his touch.

You let out a soft, breathless chuckle, your voice a little hoarse as you spoke. "Not anymore," you whispered.

"Kotyonok, can I... feel you?” Bucky's words were a soft, hesitant question, his voice a low whisper in the quiet of the farmhouse. His gentle fingers traced down your clothed arm, the warmth of his touch perceptible through the fabric. Your eyes met his as you considered his question.

Bucky's hand slid around your waist, dipping beneath the waistband of your pants, as you shuffled closer to him. His touch was warm and possessive, pulling you firmly against his body. A wall of heat radiated from him, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers traced lazy circles over your skin, his touch gentle but purposeful.

He spoke in a ragged, husky whisper, "You feel so soft."

Exhausted from the day's stress and harsh weather, you sighed with relief as you were finally able to rest and be cared for.

Bucky heard your weary sigh, and it stirred an ache deep within him. He knew you were exhausted, worn down by the tumultuous events that had unfolded. Yet, despite the immense stress and peril, you remained by his side, still allowing his touch. Holding you close, his solid form anchored against your back, Bucky's hand moved in slow, gentle caresses. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your skin, eliciting soft moans and sighs to escape your lips.

"Just let me take care of you," he murmured softly.

Bucky's breath caught as you parted your legs, hooking your left knee over his right thigh. His hands gripped you tightly, responding to the heat of your skin against his. His body reacted instinctively, muscles going rigid at the intimate contact. Desire burned in his eyes as he looked at you, his fingers moving slowly, deliberately. He felt your body responding, your breath hitching, your muscles clenching under his touch.

Bucky's body stiffened involuntarily as your hand slid into his pants. For a moment, he tensed up but made no attempt to stop or pull away. Instead, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips seeking the sensitive spot behind your ear, where the familiar scent of your shampoo lingered. The hand on your thigh tightened slightly as your fingers found their mark, drawing a low, rumbling groan from deep within his chest.

"Easy, Kotyonok," he rasped, his voice a gruff whisper.

Bucky's breath came in ragged gasps as your hand moved over him, your touch igniting a fire in his veins. He fought to maintain his composure, attempting to mirror your movements with his own fingers, sliding them up and down your slick folds. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he sought your skin with his lips, grazing your pulse point with his teeth as he fought for control. Yet, your touch overwhelmed him, eliciting an involuntary physical reaction he could not restrain.

"That's it, Soldat. You like that, Milyy?”

Bucky's breath caught in his throat as you addressed him as 'Soldat'. The name felt cold, distant, and out of place. It no longer fit, not with the way he was feeling, not with the intimate touch of your hand. Bucky pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours, a desperate plea in his gaze. "Not Soldat," he ground out, his voice rough and urgent. "Call me Bucky. Please."

"Bucky," you moaned.

Bucky's breath hitched as he heard his name on your lips, the desire in your voice making something primal flare inside him.

"Tell me!" he growled. "Tell me again... who am I?”

He looked down at you, his gaze dark and intense as you spoke.

“You are James Bucky Barnes… you were born…” you whimpered softly as his fingers rubbed your clit. “...in Brooklyn… New York… in 1917.”

Bucky's gentle yet deliberate touch accompanied his soft-spoken words as he took control. He sensed your responsive movements and the soft whimpers escaping your lips, which ignited a reciprocal reaction within him.

"I fought in the Second World War," he continued, "and was captured by HYDRA and turned into the Winter Soldier. But now, I am free. I’m Bucky.”

"Oh, Bucky," you moaned.

Hearing his name on your lips, hearing the way you moaned it, sent a jolt of desire through Bucky's body. He couldn't deny it anymore, the heat between you was building, and it was intense.

He pulled you closer to him, his hand continuing its slow, deliberate movements. His other hand came up to cup your face, his touch gentle but possessive.

"Say it again," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "Say my name, Kotyonok.”

"Bucky!" You stroked him faster. 

Your breathless, urgent utterance of his name sent Bucky reeling. Tension coiled through his body as your hand moved over him, quickening with mounting urgency. He pulled you in closer, face buried in your neck, lips trailing over your skin as he panted against you, voice a low, ragged whisper.

"Yes, like that," he gasped, his hips arching into your touch.

"Come, Bucky,” you encouraged him gently. “That's it, come for me.”

Bucky let out a strangled gasp as you encouraged him, his body responding instinctually to your command. Your words and your touch were all too much, and he couldn't hold back anymore. With a low, guttural cry, he came undone, his release pulsing over your hand. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in shuddering gasps as he tried to regain control of himself, his body trembling against yours.

"Fuck,” he whispered. “Love you, Kotyonok.”

Bucky's fingers resumed their movements, his touch more urgent and insistent as he focused on your pleasure. Desperate to give you the same intense sensations you had provided him, he kissed and nipped at your skin, his fingers circling your clit in slow, tight motions. He yearned to hear you cry out his name, could feel your body tightening in anticipation, knowing he had pushed you to the edge.

"Bucky, oh Bucky... I'm... I'm gonna...”

He continued his ministrations, his fingers relentless as he worked you towards your release, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered your name again and again, a low, ragged incantation.

"Come for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you. Let go.”

“BUCKY!” Your shout was swallowed by the wind howling around the desolate farmhouse.

Chapter 8 <MASTERLIST > Chapter 10

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: language, violence, m masturbation, smut

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

Back in your apartment, the two of you set to work quietly organizing everything spread out on the living room floor that you could think of to pack. The biggest section was food. Luckily you were still used to a dorm room diet, so you had tons of useful items to take on the go. You had focused on the cans with protein like tuna, chicken and beans, then moved on to granola and protein bars, nuts, dried fruit, ramen noodles, cereal, instant rice and easy mac. Joel packed each of you a flashlight with extra batteries, and handfuls of matches and lighters he had found rummaging through your floor. Justin's camping equipment came with a canteen, plate, bowl, and foldable silverware for each, and a small first aid kit, which Joel significantly bolstered after raiding all the bathrooms on the floor.

He told you to only pack one or two extra sets of clothes, that you would have to break into houses or stores along the way if you needed more. He didn't want to waste the space in your packs that could be used for food and medicine.

You both set to work filling your bags with as much stuff as you could. Joel slipped a map into his pack that he had picked up from a kitchen drawer down the hall, and you had snuck in an unopened box of tampons and a folded up picture of your parents in yours when he wasn't looking.

It was around midday when you were all set to go, making sure to eat something left behind in your cupboards one last time.

You closed the door behind you, but you didn't lock it in case someone came along and needed something. Then sadly, you turned and gripped your baseball bat, following Joel down the long hallway, down the stairs and to the lobby.

Before Joel pushed the lobby door open to the outside, he turned to you.

"Which way's the subway?"

You pointed down the street to the right.

"It's about 3 blocks that way, not far. It's mostly all apartment buildings and a few stores on the corners."

Joel nodded, cracking the door open to listen for any sign of trouble. It sounded clear, so he ventured out to confirm before pulling you out behind him.

"We gotta be quick, but not too quick. Don't want to accidentally sneak up on somethin' out here," Joel explained in a hushed tone. "If you hear anythin', stop and don't make a sound. And you tell me if you see anythin' at all, understand?" You walked closely next to him as he was speaking, the whole time looking all around you frantically, your senses in overdrive, and your heart hammering in your chest. All you did was nod, not wanting to risk making too much noise.

The streets were quiet. Joel peeked around the corner and made sure no soldiers or infected were nearby before ushering you across the open street and back behind the safety of a building. One block down.

The two of you trotted down the sidewalk, swiveling your head around every few feet to see if there was anyone behind you. You almost made it to the next corner when Joel swung out his arm to stop you. You held your breath, heart racing as you focused on the noise he heard. It was the slow rumbling of an engine that reminded you of the FEDRA truck you heard patrolling outside your apartment last night. Joel must have figured that out, too, because he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to hide behind a dumpster that was sticking out of a narrow alley. You both crouched down and waited for the truck to pass. Fortunately, it didn't turn down the street you were on, where you would have been exposed.

Once the noise faded, Joel stood up slowly before motioning for you to follow. Again, he poked his head around the corner and took extra time to make sure no one was around before dragging you across the street once more. One more block to go.

You were halfway down the block as you passed a pawn shop, windows smashed in and the place ransacked. You grabbed Joel's arm and his head whipped around in a panic. You shook your head to tell him nothing was wrong and pointed into the pawn shop.

"Weapons?" you mouthed.

He hesitated a moment, trying to decide if you should press on or see if there was something useful in there before ultimately deciding to check it out. If the subway had infected in it, it would be better if there was more than just one knife between you. Joel stepped through the broken glass door carefully, glancing around at the small shop before holding his hand out to guide you through the opening. You both took a quick look around, noticing anything valuable was long gone, and most of the knives were picked over, but you did find a decent sized switchblade for yourself. You tucked it into your jeans pocket, and you carried on down the street towards the subway entrance.

You had a long way to go down the dark tunnel, but so far it had been quiet and uneventful. Your flashlight beams bounced off the brick walls as you walked in silence, trying to stay focused on your surroundings. Your anxiety spiked with every new subway station you passed, reminding you of just how much deeper into the city you were getting. From what the soldiers had said, more densely populated areas were worse off, and so far in your limited experience that had proven to be true.

You were two stations away from the one you stopped at for work when you first saw people. It was just two families, huddled together on the platform. They had seen your flashlights long before you saw them, so trying to sneak by was useless. They seemed like they were just innocent survivors, so Joel kept walking, holding his head up. He made eye contact with two of the men in the group and gave them each a firm nod, hoping to convey you were just passing through and not looking for trouble. They nodded back wordlessly, and you carried on your way.

The next station had more people who had sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, and lanterns. It looked like they were trying to wait it out underground long-term. A few of the men approached the end of the platform to address Joel.

"You soldiers?" one of them asked.

"No, just passin' through, tryin' to stay off the streets, sorry to disturb you all," Joel replied. He paused for a moment, and looked back at the men who were still watching you carefully. "Any of you see any infected down here?"

One of the men shook his head. "Nah, man, that's why we're sitting tight down here. Soldiers must be keeping them busy up top."

Joel nodded. "Thanks... good luck to you."

Finally, you approached your stop for work and found the platform to be filled with people, just like the previous one. They were kind and immediately helped you both up off the tracks. You introduced yourselves and explained you were headed to Joel's apartment not too far from there. One of the women, Josie, warned you the closer you got to the heart of the city, the worse it was.

"We heard, thank you. Once we get up top it won't be a long walk," you said, swiping the back of your hand across your forehead to clear the sweat collecting there. "We've been walking for hours. Joel?" You turned to him, interrupting a conversation he was having with Josie's husband, Peter. "Can we rest here for a bit?" Joel turned back to Peter.

"That ok with you folks?" he asked. Peter and Josie nodded, seemingly the leaders of the small group of strangers huddled on the platform.

The two of you slunk down against the tiled wall, pulling out protein bars and your canteens after sitting down. You shut your eyes for a few minutes, leaning the back of your head against the wall, chewing and grateful to be taking a break.

"You holdin' up alright?" Joel asked softly beside you. You nodded, keeping your eyes closed.

"I'm just tired," you replied, taking another bite of your protein bar without looking.

"It ain't much further, once we get on the street it's another few blocks. We should be able to get there before - "

Joel's sentence was cut short by screaming, and your eyes flew open in surprise as you dropped your protein bar and grabbed your bat while fumbling around in your pocket for the switchblade. Joel was already standing, gripping his bat and trying to locate the source of the scream in the group. One of the men, who looked asleep when you arrived, was snarling and had his teeth clamped down into the shoulder of an older man, blood pouring down his arm and soaking both of their shirts. Peter and another man jumped into action to pull the infected off the poor man screaming in agony, struggling to pin it to the ground.

Joel charged forward before you could stop him, your hands desperately clawing at his t-shirt, but he was already throwing himself into the group to help. You watched in horror as the three men struggled to hold it down, and just as Joel was getting ready to bash its skull in with the baseball bat, it lunged forward, knocking Peter and the other man off to the side and pushing Joel onto his back.

Joel held the infected up by its shoulders as it pinned him down, snapping and growling inches from his face. Joel's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes flashed with rage as he summoned all the strength he could manage and pushed it off him, making it stumble backwards. It was just enough time for Joel to reach to his side for his hunting knife and plunged it into the infected’s skull with a guttural yell.

The infected went limp immediately and fell to the floor. Joel stood over the body, tense, covered in blood, and panting heavily with the knife still clutched in his hand. Peter and the other man rushed to join the rest of the group helping the one who was bit in the shoulder, but you raced straight to Joel, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Surprised, he lifted one arm to place it reassuringly on your back, the other still clutching his knife.

You let him go, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as you frowned at him angrily. He looked down at you, the adrenaline wearing off, and saw the anguish on your face. He reached his hand out to you, but you slapped it away and instead shoved his chest heatedly, making him stumble just a bit in surprise.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" you seethed, narrowing your eyes at him and fighting to keep the tears from falling. "You could have gotten killed!"

Joel stared at you, still panting slightly, then put the knife back in its holder. He couldn't gauge your reaction. Were you upset he would be killed because then you would be alone, or upset because of something else? He sighed and reached out to you again. This time, you didn't shove him, but you didn't go to him, either.

Josie approached you, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Joel, for saving my husband," she said, clutching his outstretched hand in her own, then turned to you. "Don't be mad at your boyfriend, dear, he just saved us all."

Your mouth fell open, and before you could correct her, she went back to Peter and hugged him tightly. Joel cleared his throat beside you, seemingly pleased with himself.

"You heard her," he winked at you. "Can't stay mad at me." You scowled back at him, and with a more serious tone, he added, "us or them, remember?"

You sighed, relaxing your brow. You knew he was right, but you were still pissed off. You turned on your heel and headed back to your abandoned protein bar, effectively ending the conversation.

Joel joined you and watched as the group deliberated quietly on how to deal with the man who was bit. You had learned he likely only had a few hours before he turned, based on the location of his bite. Ultimately, Peter volunteered, and he quickly and privately put the man out of his misery with a kitchen knife. You winced when you heard the squelch of blood from across the platform, burying your face in your shoulder.

You didn't stay much longer after that. Once Joel had gotten his strength back, you picked up your belongings and gave your farewells. Josie and Peter thanked Joel again, and you headed up to the familiar street corner, dusk fast approaching.

It took you both an hour to walk to Joel's apartment, which normally would have taken ten minutes, but he insisted on going slow and being careful at every turn. When you approached his building, you had to crane your neck all the way back to take in the full height. His building definitely used to have a doorman: it was fancy. You walked into the ornate lobby and turned around in a slow circle, taking in everything from the detailed crown molding to the beautiful, tiled floor that looked more like a piece of art. You almost felt bad for stepping on it. Even the ceiling was vaulted and decorated in tiny, intricate squares with gilded chandeliers hanging from it. Finally, you looked straight ahead and saw an arched window that overlooked a private garden.

"Shit," you whispered, "I almost got an apartment in this building."

Joel turned back to you, surprised, then realized you were being sarcastic when he saw your grin. He smiled to himself and shook his head, leading you down the hallway towards the stairwell door.

"I take it you're not on the second floor?" you asked him quietly as you began to climb the stairs.

"No, little higher than that," he replied. "30th floor."

You stopped dead in your tracks, which made him stop and turn back to you questioningly. He could tell what the problem was when he saw the pained expression on your face without you even having to speak.

"I know, it's gonna take us a while, but we can stop and rest whenever you need to." You sighed and hung your head, continuing your journey up the stairs.

You made it to the halfway point before you had to take a break, sitting on a step, panting and chugging water from your canteen while Joel leaned against the wall across from you, sipping his own water. The sun was going down, so you each dug your flashlights out of your packs before continuing.

"Not much further," Joel panted, turning the corner of another staircase, "then we can rest. No point in diggin' around in the dark, it's been a long day." You nodded, choosing not to speak to conserve your energy, and focused on the flashlight beam ahead of you.

You weren't sure how long it took, but finally you climbed the last step to face the door marked with a big, red "30". That's when you looked up and noticed you were on the top floor. Of course he lives on the top floor.

Joel pushed the door open a crack and peeked down the hall, which was very short and only had two doors and an elevator at the other end. He held the door open for you to walk through, then gently closed it. You frowned, looking back and forth at the two doors, puzzled.

Joel looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight when he saw your confusion, before mumbling, "It's a penthouse," and brushed past you to unlock his door.

You had never seen a penthouse before, but you knew they were for people who were really rich, especially in New York City. He opened the door, locking it behind you. You couldn't really see much other than what your flashlight exposed, but you could tell the room you were standing in was massive. You briefly flicked your light around, taking in some couches, bookcases, a fireplace and some other furniture. You stopped when you noticed the entire wall was top to bottom windows with a balcony attached, and covered your flashlight quickly. Joel kicked off his sneakers, and noticing the dimmer light, turned his flashlight to shine on you questioningly.

"Can't people see in? Like, the lights moving?" you asked. He shook his head.

"Privacy windows," he explained, then turned and headed towards another room. You quickly kicked your own shoes off, skittering after him, sticking close. The place was so huge you were afraid you'd get lost, and the darkness mixed with the eerie silence from lack of power and road noise made the hairs on your arm stand up. As you walked, you shined your flashlight on everything around you, baffled by how far the apartment seemed to stretch. You were so engrossed in your surroundings that you bumped into him when he had stopped walking.

"Oops, sorry," you whispered.

"Why are you whispering? We're safe here," he replied at full volume. You shrugged.

"I don't know, this place is huge, Joel, give me a minute - oh my god, is this your kitchen?!" you exclaimed as your jaw dropped, noticing the kitchen island in front of you that must have seated ten people. On one side. Easily. The island, made of marble or quartz, was white with silver and black specks. You noticed the counter was the same all over the kitchen, even on the built in bar in the corner. The cupboards were a light oak that was soft against your fingertips as you gently trailed them against the wood, wandering around his kitchen in amazement.

Joel watched you as you walked around his kitchen, gently touching the handles of the knives in the block and running your fingers along the countertop. You looked like you had never seen anything like this before, and his chest ached when he wondered what would have happened that night if you agreed to come home with him. You could have seen this place in a whole different light. He could have made you a drink from the bar and played you some music over the sound system. If he was lucky, he could have laid you down on the kitchen island you were so currently fascinated with, your fingers gripping the edges as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear to explore your soaking wet folds, pushing one finger inside you, and then another, slowly teasing you until you begged him for more.

Having you in his place was clouding his mind, he needed to focus. He cleared his throat before heading towards the pantry door. You eagerly followed closely behind and when you realized the pantry was a room as big as your own kitchen, you moaned with envy, causing his eyes to flutter shut momentarily.

"This place is amazing," you told him, sifting through the food on his shelves. You grabbed some peanut butter and crackers, turned and headed back to the kitchen.

"Where's the silverware?" you asked over your shoulder.

"Drawer next to the sink," he replied, and watched as you grabbed a butter knife. He picked up a can of Beefaroni off the shelf and opened the drawer in the kitchen with the can opener after picking a fork out from the silverware drawer you left open in your haste to eat.

He sat across from you at the island, eating his cold Beefaroni out of the can while you slathered crackers with peanut butter and popped them in your mouth. You smirked at his choice of food.

"Chef Boyardee?" you asked curiously, eyebrows raised. "I'm sure your private chef could have made you the real thing from scratch." Joel chuckled.

"Alright, I ain't got a private chef. Besides, this is the real thing. Nothin' beats it."

You smiled, fascinated that a man who lived in such a lavish apartment would have Beefaroni as his guilty pleasure. Feeling full and sleepy, you twisted the top of the peanut butter jar closed, and out of habit ran your tongue along the butter knife to clean it. You didn't even realize how that looked until you heard Joel's breath hitch and he looked down to study the empty can in front of him. Your cheeks felt warm from embarrassment, but luckily, he couldn't see it under the cover of darkness. You cleaned the knife (with a sponge, this time) and Joel's fork, putting them back in the drawer.

"Alright, let's get some shut eye. We should try to get an early start tomorrow, I want to get out of this city as soon as we can," Joel said, grabbing his pack he had set down when you walked in, and headed further down the hallway.

You followed him nervously, looking at the expensive-looking art on the walls and even a few statues on pedestals before reaching his bedroom. He pushed the door open, and your flashlights bounced around the room to illuminate the corners the moonlight hid from view. As expected, his bedroom was spacious with a bathroom and two walk-in closets attached. You noticed one of the closets was void of any clothes, and the other was packed to the brim. You poked your head in his bathroom, sighing enviously when you saw the huge, glass walk-in shower and built in vanity. You turned around to find Joel had dug out a couple lanterns from his closet and placed one on each end table so you could conserve your flashlight batteries. You clicked it off and walked over awkwardly, not sure what the sleeping arrangements should be. Unlike you, he has couches more than big enough to accommodate a grown adult, but the thought of being alone in the living room of this huge apartment made you nervous.

It hadn't even been a question in Joel's mind.

"Hop in and make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back," and he left the bedroom, back down the hallway to double check the locks. You rummaged in your pack for some more comfortable clothes to sleep in, and quickly changed before he returned, nestled under the covers on the most comfortable mattress you had ever been on in your life.

When Joel reentered the bedroom, his thoughts didn't even have time to catch up with how fast he felt the blood rushing to his cock. He squeezed his eyes shut as he blindly walked right to his closet and shut the door so he could change into his pajamas, willing his erection away. He groaned quietly, leaning his head against the wall of the closet, frustrated with how distracted he's been. If he doesn't stop, it could get you or him killed. He would have to do something about it before heading out tomorrow. He was lucky so far, you've had relatively safe places to hole up in, but that was going to end.

When he finally got himself under control, he exited the closet and got into the other side of the bed. You already had your lantern off and you were laying on your side with your eyes closed, exhausted from all the walking and events of the day. His bed was much larger than yours, and he hoped the extra space would help him get his mind out of the gutter. He turned his lantern off, and leaned back into the familiar pillow and sheets, closing his eyes. It was silent for a few minutes before you spoke.

"Joel?" you squeaked.

"Hm?" he replied, keeping his eyes closed.

"This is the nicest apartment I've ever seen, how long have you lived here?"

"About six years or so," he said, shifting a little under the covers. "But I like your place more," he admitted.

"My place?!" you said, outraged. "You could fit my entire apartment into this bedroom, you're crazy."

"Yeah, well, your place felt more..." he trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Like a home. This place feels like a museum."

"I'm sure you could make this place feel just as cozy," you yawned before adding, "this bed, for instance, is the most comfortable thing I've ever laid on." Joel smiled.

"Glad you like it." Sweetheart.

He waited until he was sure you were sleeping deeply enough before he locked himself into his bathroom and pulled his sweatpants down just far enough to free his throbbing cock, stroking it steadily with one hand while the other propped him up against the wall, eyes screwed shut. His thoughts picked up where he left off in the kitchen, his fingers deep in your pussy, but then he would add his thumb to your swollen clit, making your back arch off the cold counter and gasp his name. His thumb would pick up the pace, keeping up with your moans, rubbing tight circles and flexing and thrusting his fingers inside of you until your body finally stilled under him, whimpering his name as you came.

He imagined you gazing up at him hazily, the same way you looked at him last week outside the bar, but now you would reach out and grab the waist of his jeans, pulling him closer and whisper hoarsely to him, "Please, Joel, I need you, I need more..."

He imagined what it would feel like to slide inside you, your cunt soft and warm, so welcoming and taking him inch by inch. He would grasp your hips, his feet firmly on the ground and your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, one of your hands lost in your own hair and the other firmly holding onto his wrist, eyes rolled towards the back of your head, moaning, as he stretched you out. When he would start moving, he would go slow at first and enjoy the way your tits bounced gently along with his movements. He would do his best to take his time, but he imagined you asking him - begging him - to fuck you harder. Of course, he would give you what you wanted. He would slam into you, over and over, groaning as he would feel your cunt squeezing around him, warning him you were close. His thumb would travel down to your clit once again, pressing firmly from side to side until you were screaming his name and he felt your warm release spill over his cock.

"Fuck!" Joel grunted out into the darkness, as he shot thick ropes of cum over his hand and onto the tile floor, completely losing himself and forgetting to grab a tissue.  He stood there a few minutes, catching his breath, his forehead pressed against the bathroom wall. Finally, he pushed himself away and cleaned up his mess carefully, using his flashlight to make sure he didn't miss anything. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hoped that would help keep him sharp and focused for tomorrow.

He opened the bathroom door quietly, relieved to see you hadn't moved a muscle since he left. You were still sleeping peacefully, facing his side of the bed with your lips slightly parted. He smiled at the sight, setting his flashlight down and about to slide back into bed when he heard a noise coming from down the hall. He froze, listening intently, trying to figure out the source. He glanced down at you once more to confirm you were still asleep and headed quietly out the bedroom door, carefully closing it behind him.

He walked down the hallway, now on high alert, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He walked by a statue, grabbing it and turning it upside down so the square base was upright in his hand. He gripped it tightly as he neared the kitchen, now hearing rustling and seeing a beam of light coming from the pantry. He glanced around the room before peering around the open pantry door, seeing someone crouched on the floor and rifling through his food, but all Joel could focus on was the revolver on the floor next to him, shining in the moonlight. Shooting one more glance over his shoulder, Joel stepped inside, silently placing the statue down on the floor, and then lunged forward, quickly wrapping his arm around the intruder’s neck, and using his other hand to lock his arm in place. Joel yanked them both up to a standing position, putting his foot over the revolver and shoving it under the shelves in the pantry, out of arms reach. The intruder slapped wildly at Joel's arms, then tried clawing at his face, desperate to loosen his grip so he could breathe, but Joel didn't budge, his grip strong and unmoving, his face contorted in a fury and a heat he never felt before. It didn't take long before the man passed out, but Joel held on a few minutes longer to make sure the air didn't revive him.

Once he was satisfied he was dead, Joel laid him gently on the pantry floor, frantically trying to catch his breath. He slowly picked the statue back up, temporarily forgetting about the gun, and then closed his eyes a moment as his breathing began to stabilize. He reopened them, nostrils flared, and jaw clenched. He needed to make sure the man was alone, and you were safe.

He left the pantry, glancing around the room once again before stepping forward. He was about to enter the hallway to head back towards the living room when something hard hit him across the chest, sending him crashing loudly back into the kitchen, dropping the statue. Joel gasped for air in the darkness, scrambling backwards and reaching around blindly to try to find his statue, but the other intruder kicked it away and pinned Joel down with his own baseball bat. The bat was being pressed to his throat, and Joel struggled to push against the man's weight.

"Who else is here with you?" the intruder sneered. Joel was barely able to make out his face in the darkness.

"No one," he gasped and shook his head, pushing back harder now that he was reminded of you sleeping sweetly in his bed, hoping and praying you stayed in there.

"Bullshit," the man spit. "I saw the shoes by the door. Maybe I'll have a little fun with her after I kill - "

Suddenly, the pressure was gone, and Joel coughed, holding his throat. He whipped around frantically, trying to find anything to use as a weapon, when he heard wet thumping over and over. He stood up, desperately trying to make his eyes adjust to the shadows. Remembering the flashlight, he scrambled back in the pantry and snatched it up, casting the beam of light over the scuffle.

You were bent over and brutally caving in the skull of the man who almost killed him.

Over and over, you aimed the corner of the statue at the man's disfigured face, beating him to a bloody pulp, the squishing sound of blood echoing in your ears. Joel calling your name and grabbing you around the waist was the only thing that stopped you. You dropped the statue and looked him in the eye, like a wild animal cornered and ready to strike. He grabbed your face, repeating your name until your eyes focused back on him. The enormity of what you did hit you in an instant: you just killed a man.

Tears welled up in your eyes and your lips trembled as you continued to stare into Joel’s eyes. He shook his head when he saw the emotion on your face.

“No. No, no, no, no. C’mere,” he said, pulling you into his embrace, and it was then you let the tears flow as you sobbed uncontrollably into his chest, gripping his t-shirt in your fist like a lifeline. He snaked his arm up your back, so his hand rested at the crown of your head, and his other arm tightly squeezed you around the ribs. You both slunk to the floor of his kitchen, holding onto each other for dear life, the horror of the world around you finally making its mark on you both.  

Chapter Nine

[raygunny]

Tav Goes Missing

Ok uh holy shit this is long, I hope you all like it - it was a labor of love 💙

Based on my prompt by the same name

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Tav

Word count: 7,556

Synopsis: Tav is under a lot of pressure - she’s suddenly been shoved into leading a team of parasite infested misfits, everything seems to want to kill them, and a certain vampire has been on her mind far too much. She needs some time away from camp, but while venturing out on her own she gets hurt - and even worse, stuck. Who will come to her rescue?

---------------------------------------------

Trudging back to camp Tav feels a heaviness descend upon her. In her body, sure, but that’s an unavoidable fact of life at this point. More so her mind feels weary, and she’s pretty sure it’s not the parasite’s doing. At least not this time.

There’s been an anxiety hovering over her, one that only seems to kick in as they return each evening. The events of the day and the many before catching up with her as she enters the safety of camp. She should be relieved each time they make it back with all their limbs still attached, but lately, she just feels dread.

Tav feels somewhat guilty at the thought.

It’s been a pleasant surprise how much she’s enjoyed traveling with her new companions. Who would have thought that being in constant danger and sharing a psychic tadpole would be so effective in bonding them together?

If she’s being honest, though - it can be a bit much at times. There’s always some crisis, some literal life-ending problem popping up at the worst time. Really it doesn't matter what it is, Tav knows she can't bring herself to let any of them to deal with it alone. She knows that feeling all too well.

And truly, she is happy to have people around who need her and who she needs. Who enjoys her as she enjoys them.

So then why do I always feel so alone still?

Tav dismisses the thought. It’s not their fault, everything has been too much recently. Too much fighting, too much talking - trying to save their skin at every turn from some new, twisted form of danger. During the day she has no other option but to stay strong, to push the anxieties away. Failing at that means risking the safety of the whole party.

Upon their return to camp, all those thoughts suddenly come racing back. Sometimes it feels impossible to shut them off - and she needs to figure out how to shut them off. Even within the bounds of camp she knows she needs to be their unwavering leader. Sure of herself and them - carrying none of the doubts and fears that keep running through her mind. 

She just needs a minute to think - to breathe. Some space would do her well, just for a couple hours so she can get this out of her system. As tempting as it is to wander off without saying anything, she convinces herself to check in with the others.

“What can I do to help?” Tav asks as she approaches Gale. He’s building a fire, preparing to cook dinner.

Gale looks up, “Well, well - if it isn’t our fearless leader!” Tav winces a little at that. 

He doesn’t notice, glancing around, “Hmm, I think most of it is covered. I suppose we need firewood? And about this much kindling.” He holds his arms out making a circle away from his body. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, he could’ve just said an armful. “There’s enough to get us through cooking dinner, but we won’t have enough into the night.”

Shadowheart is nearby, helping Gale with dinner by chopping carrots. She pipes up, “I just saw Karloch with her axe heading towards the other side of camp. I think she’s going to chop some wood for us.”

Tav surveys the rest of their camp. Wyll is by the communal chest, focused on going through their inventory, trying to organize everything they’ve gathered in the last few days. Hopefully they’ll be going to the market tomorrow to sell some items and pick up some much needed supplies. She’s relieved, silently thanking Wyll - her brain could not handle that task right now.

Next to him is Lae’zel, who like clockwork can be found cleaning and sharpening her weapons each evening. She’s doing just that. Tav smiles as she notices Wyll’s sword and one of Karloch’s many axes at her feet.

Lately, Lae’zel has taken to helping the rest of the camp keep their weapons in top condition. Slowly but surely beginning to open up to them - in her own way of course. “You take such poor care of your blade. You clearly are unsuited for such a task, I will take it to my tent and return it to you later,” she says, her face giving away nothing. But Tav sees how she pays attention, how she knows who needs their weapons taken care of on any given evening.

Gale interrupts her train of thought, “Sounds like that leaves kindling Tav, do you want to grab some? Dinner won’t be ready for a while.” He starts talking about the stew he’s making and stresses that it needs an absolute minimum cooking time of two hours for optimal tenderness and flavor. He starts complaining about how they haven’t had a hot meal in far too long. 

It’s been like a day, Tav sighs internally. That’s fine, it just means she’s got plenty of time to burn.

“Patience is a virtue,” Gale finishes, holding one finger up. Turning it towards himself he continues with a grin, “And I’m quite virtuous”. She’s amused but won’t let him see it, he’s been incorrigible lately. 

Her stomach rumbles loudly. She, on the other hand, is not particularly virtuous it would seem. Fishing out an apple and some bread from her larger pack, she makes purposeful eye contact with Gale and raises her eyebrows. He shakes his head chuckling a little and turns back to building the campfire. She stashes the snacks in her satchel, she won’t be gone that long but it doesn’t hurt to have on hand.

“I’ll go get the kindling, I might be a little while though.” Gale waves a hand in her direction and just tells her to have fun.

Tav goes to change into her camp clothes and as she strips off her shirt she notices a tear in the sleeve. It’s going to need to be mended. She grabs it and heads towards Astarion’s tent.

As far as camp duties go, Astarion typically gets away with minimal work - instead focusing on looking pretty while reading one of his many books. He swears up and down that he’s doing it for research purposes, “You never know what kind of helpful information can be found until you find it, darling. If you think about it, I’m doing the most arduous work here! Now shoo.”

Occasionally, he can be convinced to mend clothing and the like. She approaches Astarion’s tent, knowing there’s about a 50/50 chance she’ll be able to talk him into fixing it for her. Better than it used to be, she thinks with a smirk.

Seeing the shirt in her hands as she walks up, Astarion doesn’t even wait before he says, “Oh no you don’t - you better not be coming over here with that. I’ve already mended plenty of clothing this week! It’s getting ridiculous really, I hadn’t realized I’d become the camp seamstress,” he huffs. “I mean honestly Tav, can’t you tell I’ve got plenty of reading to do,” he gestures to the books haphazardly stacked next to him. She can see the smile he’s trying to hide and knows he’ll do it for her if she chooses her next words carefully.

“I don’t see those books going anywhere anytime soon, Astarion.” Her eyes flick to his, “Plus, I’ll make it worth your while, I promise,” she says, knowing he’ll take the bait.

“Worth my while?” the corners of his lips twitch before revealing the smile he had tried hiding. She very much enjoys those smiles, the ones he doesn't mean to let slip. “I like the sound of that”, he purrs, effortlessly switching into a more flirtatious tone.

She steals one of his moves - a quick look up and down, as if shamelessly admiring his beauty while simultaneously sizing him up. Bringing her eyes to his, she flirts back with, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, handsome. We’ll have to see how good of a job you do before we work out payment.”

“That hardly sounds fair,” he fake pouts.  

Time to appeal to his more practical side, “Besides, you need to make yourself look busy before you get pulled into doing something more labor intensive by the others.”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully before making up his mind, “Fine, I suppose you can’t keep walking around looking like a slob. Hand it here.” She goes to hand it over and he brushes his long fingers across hers purposefully. That flirtatious tone comes back, “And don’t forget, you owe me.”

She almost rolls her eyes, but reminds herself she had encouraged it. Sometimes he can be so frustrating. One second he’s there, present and having a good time, then something happens and she sees one of his many masks slip into place. It was difficult to spot at first, but now that she’s gotten to know him better, it’s hard not to notice. Tav still can’t pin down the why - it seems so random at times. Despite her curiosity, she doesn’t call him out on it. She’s gathered enough bits and pieces to know it’s not the kind of subject that leads to an easy conversation.

And to be fair, it is fun to flirt back and forth with him.

“See, was that so hard?” she teases before turning away. Waving over her shoulder she throws out a quick, “Thank you Astarion!” and is off.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters back, lost in thought, eyes still glued to her as she walks away.

Tav knows he won’t say it, but he likes people coming to him, needing his help. At least in this kind of way. The small, satisfied smile he has on his face when she examines his handiwork and praises him for the quality of it - “Wow, good as new!” - is all she needs to know.

She heads towards the edge of camp. Sure enough, Karloch is going to town on the surprisingly large tree limb she’d carried back a couple days ago. Tav catches Karloch’s eye just as her greataxe finds itself driven into the wood once again. Karloch waves, yelling out, “Just letting off some steam!” with a proud smile on her face. “Pun fully intended!”

Tav just chuckles and waves back.

----

It’s turning into a pleasantly cool evening, the sun will set in the next few hours but that gives her plenty of time to gather wood at her leisure - relishing the alone time this affords her.

She knows where she wants to go and starts heading that direction. They passed a cave the other day, but despite her pleas the others didn’t want to explore it, saying they were too tired. Tav suspects none of them are going to be interested in going back so she figures, if she has to go pick up sticks, then might as well do it somewhere interesting.

Her mind begins to wander. Thinking about the events of the last few days, dissecting a recent fight with some Harpies near the grove.

They’d caught the party by surprise. It was a rough start to the encounter. Shadowheart, who was closest to the beasts, immediately fell into a trance, charmed by their song. Karloch wasn’t in an ideal position either, too far from the harpies to charge them but also too low down for her ranged attacks to be effective. She settled for stepping in front of the child to create the best tiefling shield she could. That was good thinking on her part, Tav notes.

Tav and Gale caught each other’s eyes and silently agreed to move towards higher ground. Both scrambling up the opposite sides of the embankment, ready to use their ranged spells.

Despite the initial disadvantage, they were making good progress handling the beasts. That is, until two more flew in - this time heading straight for them. One descended on Gale, kicking him square in the chest. He was thrown off the embankment right as he used a fireball scroll to finish off the harpy singing across the water.

Thankfully, that broke Shadowheart’s trance and she quickly oriented herself to cast silence on the two harpies closest to her, a much welcomed relief. With the third preoccupied - trying to stomp Gale into the ground albeit - at least they didn’t have to worry about being charmed for now.

An arrow wizzes by, finding its way into the neck of the harpy attacking Gale. Astarion had tagged along that day as their fifth member, saying something about how dreadfully bored he was and that he needed to go to the market. It was a good thing Tav let him, he was the one really covering their asses at the moment. He had secured a hiding spot high on the nearby cliffs and relentlessly fired arrow after arrow, crippling their enemies from the shadows. With the one near Gale now critically wounded, Astarion immediately turned to shoot the one closing in on Shadowheart - it dropped right out of the air, hitting the ground hard. Tav sees it from the corner of her eye, nice one.

Karloch, happy to finally be able to properly hit the damn things, finishes off the one standing over Gale with a quick swing of her axe. She then proceeds to run to the now badly injured harpy lying on the ground, a fury of ruthless swings befall it and it soon lies still, thoroughly dead. The final harpy screeches and takes flight, in the next second Tav is pinned. She tried to free herself but was running on fumes, already hurt pretty badly. Astarion is the one who drives two arrows into its back, killing it before it can get another swipe on her. Shadowheart, out of breath but generally unhurt, runs over and proceeds to heal everyone. After almost getting their asses handed to them, they really needed it.

“What in the nine hells was that all about?!” Astarion yells, only sounding slightly hysterical. “I was practically carrying the whole team just now!” His pitch somehow increases, “And I’m not even supposed to be here!!”

They collectively groan. Rubbing her sore shoulder Tav just says, “Not now Astarion. We weren’t expecting to fight on this side of the grove.”

He scoffs, “Really though, is that how you all fight when I’m not here? Next time try to be a little more perceptive. You’re extremely lucky I came along today. I can’t always be the one saving you from danger!”

Tav glares at him, about to argue. Instead, Karloch steps in to defuse the strange tension that’s begun to form between the two of them. She smiles cheerfully, “Of course you can soldier, that was some top notch fighting out there.” Looking at the others she says, “Shall we head back to camp?” Her tone is light but they can tell it’s an order, not a question.

Shaking herself out of the daydream, Tav smiles - despite the ambush and the drama, the team had worked well together. They’ve been working well together for a while now, she reflects. In this relatively short amount of time, they really have fallen into a good rhythm. Learning to trust each other and adapting their fighting styles to compliment one another. Thinking back to what camp looks like right now, she realizes it’s not just battle they’ve fallen into a good rhythm with either. She feels a little bit better at the thought.

Slowing down Tav takes a moment to re-orient herself - she hadn’t realized how far she’d walked. The cave should be nearby but she’s not sure. Up ahead there's an overturned tree stump, they’d passed it the same day she spotted the cave. She relaxes, it shouldn’t be much further. 

Marching on, the cool air has gotten even cooler, starting to feel heavy with moisture. The trees are swaying gently as the wind picks up, their leaves fluttering above her.

It’s going to rain, she realizes.

To her disappointment, there will be no time to explore the cave today. She turns to head back to camp, miffed about walking all this way for nothing, but knowing she’ll need to pick up her pace if she’s going to get back before it rains. She considers leaving without the wood, after all, they’re probably not going to be able to keep the fire going tonight with the rain. She decides against it, they’ll need dry kindling for the morning.

The storm clouds are rolling in and have darkened the sky, by proxy the forest darkens as well. This is not good, Tav thinks. She really needs to pick up the pace now. Her arms are completely full of twigs and branches, making it difficult to walk. She stops, shifting to get a better grip. It’s hard to see over the pile in her arms and the light is fading fast.

She should've just grabbed wood near camp then went exploring. She mentally kicks herself.

As Tav begins to hurry along again, she doesn’t get very far. A tree root jutting out of the earth finds itself in her path. She doesn’t see it and as she steps forward, directly on the root, her right ankle gives out. As Tav swings towards the dirt, she lets out a startled, “SHIT”.

She finds herself not just hitting the ground, but tumbling down into the ditch she’d been walking along. A fiery pain shoots up her leg. Tav groans as she rolls over and sits upright. Taking stock of herself, she tries moving her ankle but that intensifies the pain. Yeah, that’s messed up for sure. She reaches up to her brow where she feels a trickle of something wet. She brushes her fingers over the area and winces at the sting of a small cut. It’s bleeding, but that’s the least of her worries right now.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself. Getting back to camp will not be fun, but she’ll have to try her best. The wood is a lost cause, strewn about in a rough pile on the ground. She tries to gain her composure before attempting to prop herself against the side of the ditch. It’s a steep incline, she’ll need to stand to have a chance to pull herself out. She tries several times to shift to a better position, but with her right foot dangling uselessly she’s not going anywhere this way. The pain in her ankle is no joke, but she’s been hurt way worse than this before and kept going. It’ll be okay, she tells herself.

Her optimism is met with rain. The universe makes it clear that it is staunchly opposed to giving her a break today. It’s only sprinkling for now, but the incline out of the ditch is only going to get slicker.

----

Back at camp the others begin to wonder where she’s at. It's getting dark and they’ve noticed the rain clouds too. They’re gathered near the fire, discussing what they should do. “She said she might be a while,” Gale chimes in, “I bet she’ll be back any minute now. She’s not going to want to miss my delicious stew.” It’s a hopeful statement, but his voice still carries a tinge of worry. 

Karloch frowns, “I don’t know Gale, she should be back by now. Gathering kindling doesn’t take that long, even if she was taking herself for a little walk.”

“Yeah, plus it’s about to rain.” Wyll backs her up.

While the group continues debating if they should go look for her or wait just a little longer, Astarion is quiet. He’s been painfully aware of the approaching rainstorm and how long it’s been since she left, but he also knows Tav is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. 

Though...they did see some juvenile gnolls the other day, but never found their den - he can’t shake the thought, something else occurring to him - shit and she probably ventured out to that damn cave she was going on about the other day.

He tries to push away the worry in the pit of his stomach, but those two thoughts make up his mind. “You lot do whatever you want - I’m not sitting around here any longer to wait until it starts pouring to go look for her,” he says, storming off in the direction she had exited camp. He hears Karloch and Wyll volunteer to go look too, splitting down different paths to cover more ground.

Astarion heads in the general direction of the cave. It’s a much farther walk than he was expecting, several times doubting if he was going in the right direction. Soon it starts raining lightly, and to his annoyance his nice clothes are getting wet, his poor shoes muddying as well. Ugh, and his hair must look a mess. He combs a hand through it, pushing it back and off his face. If Tav is back at camp right now and he’s out here for nothing he’s going to be pissed. With the path getting muddier by the minute, he considers heading back. The gnolls flash through his mind and a feeling of dread rises inside his chest.

No, not quite yet, he thinks.

Soon he sees the large stump they’d passed the other day - he’s getting close. Astarion keeps an eye out for any signs of Tav, soon coming across a rough pile of sticks down in a ditch. It looks suspiciously like someone had gathered wood and then chucked it down there. Looking a little closer he sees what appears to be drag marks moving away from the pile. Shit, that’s not good. The dread turns into real fear. Now he’s certain Tav has to be nearby.

“Tav?” he calls out loudly before he can stop himself. After all, someone or something nefarious could be lurking about. That thought is interrupted by Tav’s relieved voice calling back, “Astarion, is that you?”

Duh, he thinks, who else sounds like him? He hurries in the direction of her voice. She’s not far.

When he spots her, his throat feels tight. She looks an absolute mess - covered in mud, scratches down her chest and arms, and her head is bleeding. He rushes over and climbs down to her. “What in the hells are you doing down here? What happened? Are you ok?” He starts looking her over, positive she can hear the worry in his voice, but he doesn't care about that right now.

He looks rather disheveled, Tav observes. The rain has picked up and his hair is wet and matted to his head, his shoes and now his pants covered in mud. His shirt clings to his chest, slightly translucent from the rain. She’s never quite seen him like this. Focus Tav, she thinks.

“I hurt myself and couldn’t get out of the ditch,” she grimaces, gesturing to her ankle. “I was trying to drag myself to higher ground in case a flash flood came through here.”

“Well, that’s one smart thing you did.”

Tav wants to be offended, but now is not the time. She can see he’s upset - whether it’s at her or the situation she’s not sure. “Did you bring any healing supplies?” she asks hopefully. 

He deflates, “Uhhh no, those seem to have, uh, evaded me.”

She just looks up at the sky, fat raindrops falling on her face, cursing whatever deity has it out for her today. 

“What? Don't be like that. I rushed out of camp and came all this way through the rain and the wretched mud to rescue you.” He frowns. “Of course it would've been ideal if I had thought to grab a healing potion or two but..” trailing off there’s nothing else to say except, “I’m here alright??”

She lets out a sigh, “Just please get me out of this ditch before you get stuck down here too.”

She doesn't need to tell him twice. Astarion bends down and without warning throws Tav over his shoulder in one smooth motion. He’d already come to terms with the fact that he’s going to be covered in mud by the time they get out of here. She lets out a startled yelp. “Shit, Tav, I’m sorry - did I hurt you?” She can hear the worry creep back into his voice.

She feels a bit lightheaded, “Ah, no. You just surprised me. Didn’t expect to be hauled over your shoulder like a rag doll,” she tries to play it off with a joke, but it just comes out lamely. In actuality, she didn’t think he could lift her like that - but she won’t dare say that. He’s strong, don’t get her wrong, but not the Karloch or Lae’zel type of strong. It’s kind of impressive actually.

“Honestly Tav, if you’re going to keep criticizing my rescue attempt I can leave you right here.” While he is genuinely annoyed, they both know he doesn’t mean it one bit.

“No no, you’re doing a great job hero-ing it up. Please just get me out of here, I’m tired of sitting in the mud.”

He doesn’t even justify that with a response, instead taking a few steps forward and shifting her so he can boost her up to grab another tree root. She has to push up with both legs for a moment and she lets out an actual cry from the pain.

This is awful, Astarion thinks.

She makes it and he pulls himself up right behind her, she is grimacing in pain on her hands and knees. Astarion puts a hand on her back and her arm around his neck, helping her up to stand on one foot.

The rain is quickly turning into a downpour and it’s almost fully dark now. Now what? Try to carry her back to camp, through the mud and rain? He doesn’t think that’s an option at this point. They need to find shelter.

“You were out here looking for that damn cave weren’t you?” he asks. 

She looks at him sheepishly, “Yeah it should be just past those trees.” She points to a nearby cluster of trees. “Are you thinking about sheltering there until the rain passes?”

He doesn’t answer her question, just scoops her up in his arms and starts walking.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she says, but doesn’t give him any more attitude than that. She’s starting to feel bad, knowing that this is not what Astarion had planned for his evening. 

He just keeps looking forward, trying not to think about how nice she feels in his arms. She’s shivering, but compared to him she’s so warm against his chest. It feels good, clearing away some of the worry that's been knotting in there for the last couple hours. Relief, he supposes, unconsciously holding her a little tighter.

They reach the cave and he sets her down gently on a rock right inside the entrance. He peers further into the cave, obviously wondering if they’re the only occupants, the threat of gnolls popping back into his head. “I’ll be right back,” he says as he quietly makes his way further in. Astarion returns a couple minutes later and reports there’s nothing else in there with them. He picks Tav up again and carries her further into a larger, dryer portion of the cave.

She spots a bedroll in decent condition, discarded near what looks to have been an extinguished campfire. Some wood even remained stacked next to it. Someone must have been here recently.

“Do you think anyone will be coming back?” she asks, pointing to the firewood.

Astarion sets her down again, this time on the ground so she can lean against the wall. “No, I don’t think so. There’s too many cobwebs covering that pile, I doubt anyone has been here for a while.”

She agrees and relaxes a little. Her ankle is throbbing in pain, she’s really noticing how bad it is now that they’re in relative safety. Sounds about right, she thinks, shivering again. 

Astarion looks at her, lips pressed together as if to keep himself from saying what’s really on his mind. How unusual.

“You’re drenched and disgusting.” 

Ah. There it is. She fires back, “Well you’re not much better off, pal.”

His frown deepens. “Very observant Tav, that is in fact correct,” he hisses. His voice rises dramatically, echoing through the cave, “AND who’s fault might that be?”

Yikes, ok, she needs to cool it with the comments. He is understandably not in the mood for her shit right now. It’s just so hard to resist poking at him, she likes it when he gets riled up. And usually he does too, though he hides his amusement the best he can.

He takes a breath, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. Looking at the ceiling of the cave as if asking, why me?  

“Look, I’m not going to catch a cold but you might,” he finally says, and she fears that frown on his face isn’t going away anytime soon.

“We can build a fire while waiting for the storm to pass,” she pauses before asking, “You can build a fire, right?”

She’s on thin ice. He huffs, “In theory, yes. In practice, I’m not sure. That’s usually Gale’s job.”

She knows he just needs some encouragement. “I think I have a flint in my satchel, grab it and I can walk you through it.” He turns and does so without any complaints - that’s also odd for him, she notes.

Once the fire is going she can see Astarion relax a little. Tav looks down at her muddy clothing. Astarion looks at her again, “You should probably take your clothes off.” 

Tav understands what he’s saying, but still she jokes in a scandalized voice, “Astarion, now is hardly the time for that.” He rolls his eyes and she gets the tiniest smile out of him. She knew it, he can’t help himself either. She holds her hands up in peace, “Sorry, just trying to lighten up a pretty shit situation.”

Astarion shakes out the abandoned bedroll, ripping a strip of fabric from its bottom layer. He then lays it down near the fire. It’s not ideal but better than lying on the uncomfortable cave floor. “And I love that for you, darling, but excuse me if I’m still feeling a little on edge.”

There’s no real venom behind the words. That guilty feeling creeps back up on Tav. “Hey, I’m really sorry about this. I-”

He’s not ready to talk about it yet, interrupting her by saying, “At least take your pants off so I can look at your ankle.”

Tav gives up, she won’t argue this time. Moving to undo her pants she says, “I’m going to need some help with these. They’re soaked and I’m not the most…mobile right now.” She looks up at him, her exhaustion is starting to show, “Please?”

Something flashes across his face, a look she hasn’t seen before. It stays put this time, no flirtatious words or familiar mask taking its place. He moves closer, leaning down.

“Grab my shoulders,” he says, his tone a little gruffer than she’s used to. Tav does as he says, wrapping her arms around his neck. One of his arms wraps around her waist while the other hand travels up the back of her right thigh, holding that leg steady so she doesn’t have to put any pressure on it while he stands her up. 

Clinging to him as he lifts her off the ground, her face finds its way into his neck. She exhales and can feel a shiver run down his body. Tav was not expecting whatever this is. Her heart rate picks up and she can feel a blush spread down her neck. 

Astarion moves them towards where he laid out the bedroll. He doesn’t lay her down but instead continues to hold her tightly. He moves his leg between hers, removing his hand from her thigh and bracing her against his own, so her hurt leg still dangles a little off the ground. She feels tingly and a little lightheaded, she’s quick to blame it on the fact that she hasn’t eaten much tonight.

The arm wrapped around her waist helps keep her up while the other moves to her waistband. He pulls back and looks at her for permission, all she can do is nod breathlessly. He maneuvers his fingers gently into her waistband, sliding her pants past her butt and down to her thighs as far as he can go.

“I’m going to set you down now.” He places his hand on the back of her thigh again and begins lowering her back down. His voice still sounds a little strange.

She’s stunned - what the hell was that.

He doesn’t say anything else as he continues on, gently pulling her boots off first, her pants soon following. He makes sure to be especially careful with her injured foot. Her ankle is already swollen and a concerning shade of purple.

“What do you think doc?”, she breaks the tension in the air. 

He clears his throat, his voice sounds normal again as he says, “Tsk, I don’t think you’re going to make it.” He shakes his head solemnly, “Such a shame - before all of this you were my favorite one at camp.”

He doesn’t leave her any time to retort before standing up to go lay out her pants on the other side of the fire. It won’t fix how muddy they are but it will dry them out. “Do you want to dry your shirt too, or no? I can always, ahem, help with that if needed.”

Tav can see the mask reforming, whatever happened moments ago slipping away. Don’t go, she thinks - instead she says, “No need, I’ve had you do enough for one day.” She only feels a little shy as she takes it off, tossing it over to him. He follows suit, stripping his shirt off, but briefly hesitating before slipping his pants off as well. He’s practically never the shy one, it’s something he’s done thousands of times - but with Tav he suddenly feels vulnerable.

Something in the air still feels weird between them. Tav can’t think of anything to say except, “Nice undies.” She apparently just cannot help herself with the comments today.

That charming face is fully back on. Deflecting, he makes a comment about her getting lost out here to seduce him. “All you had to do was ask and we could both be in my tent, in a similar state of undress, nice and warm right now.”

She looks at him and blurts out, “Why do you do that?”

His face drops for a second. “What do you mean?”

“Your face, it..changes sometimes, like you’re flipping a switch.” She hesitates before adding, “Or putting on a mask.”

“I’m not exactly sure what you’re getting at..” he starts to say, but he’s tired and decides to be somewhat honest. She’s certainly being direct with him. “Well, I suppose when you’re as pretty as I am dear, people expect a little flirtation.” He looks down at Tav, trying to get a read on her after asking him such a strange question. “Usually it’s welcomed, but...I mean, if you’re uncomfortable I can tone it down.” 

She shakes her head, “I don’t mind per se, but I feel weird sometimes because it doesn’t always seem authentic.”

Shit, she’s way more perceptive than I thought.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way, but..” she trails off for a second. “You do know we can just be friends, right? I don’t need you to flirt with me to like you, Astarion.”

Now he really doesn’t know what to say.

“Why?” is the only thing that comes out of his mouth.

“Why would I like you even when you’re not flirting with me?”

“Yes, that’s usually what everyone wants.”

She’s starting to understand a little better now, so she says, “Well, I guess I don’t particularly want anything from you, Astarion.”

Ah, there it is, so she just doesn’t want him around in general. He can’t even lie to himself - it stings a little bit. He’s not used to being rejected, especially not by someone he actually gives a shit about. He laughs louder than he means to, “Well I can’t fathom why my company isn’t wanted - I’m a delight, if I do say so myself - but if you want me to leave then so be it. I can go and grab the others now that you’re in a safe place.”

She’s slightly baffled by his response, “What? No, Astarion, I do want you around. I just mean I will take what you’ll give me. I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give.” 

Ok, now she’s really not making sense. What does that even mean? He tries to hide his confusion. “Ah ok I see...but why?” he asks again. This time there’s curiosity behind it - instead of an accusation in the form of a question.

She shrugs, “Do I need a reason? I enjoy you Astarion. I like your company, you’re fun to talk to. We’re friends, and friends don’t have to do anything for each other. We can just be.”

He doesn’t say anything so she continues, “I admire you in a lot of ways - how you speak your mind, your sense of humor, the way you indulge me when I’m being annoying.” She sees an amused look form on his face and she smiles, “How you make me feel protected.” Oh no, it’s getting too serious now - she recovers, “I mean, your proclivity for violence definitely comes in handy.” Her eyes swing to his with a mischievous look on her face. 

She hadn’t even mentioned anything about my looks, Astarion thinks, digesting her words. He’s practically naked too. Usually he would feel offended, but this time it feels..nice. “We’re friends?” It’s the only thing he can think to say.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

This is not how he imagined this conversation, let alone this night, going. He decides it’s his turn now, “Well if we’re friends then let me ask you a question.”

Tav raises one eyebrow, “Go on.”

“Why did you go off all this way by yourself? And don’t you dare say it was just to explore this awful cave - there’s more to it.” Astarion knows he’s right. After all, Tav’s not the only one good at reading people.

Tav sighs. “I guess I’ve just been very overwhelmed lately. I needed some time away, to sort through my thoughts and figure shit out. Just exist without the weight of the world on my shoulders for a little bit.”

Astarion ponders that for a second then says, “I may not have the most experience in this arena, but isn’t that the kind of thing friends help out with? ‘Venting’, I think they call it.” She snorts and he continues, “Everyone is always coming to you, but you never come to us.”

He’s not sure if he should say this next part, “You say I have a mask, but I see yours too.”

He’s not wrong, she thinks. “I don’t know, everyone else just has these big huge things going on and I’m just..here. How could I not help?”

He rephrases his statement into a question, “Ok yes, but why do you feel the need to help literally every single person you come into contact with, yet still can’t ask for it in return?”

She looks at her hands, another sigh escaping her lips, “Probably because I’m used to handling my own problems by myself.”

The thought of her being alone is surprising to him. Tav seems like the kind of person who has lots of friends back home. She’s funny and charismatic, always taking care of others - he can’t think of one reason why she wouldn’t have people eager to be her friend. He’s not going to dig further into that at the moment, he senses it’s not what she needs right now.

“I may not know much about friendship, but I do happen to know a few things about loneliness.” He sits down facing her, gingerly propping her hurt leg up in his lap and carefully begins to wrap her ankle with fabric he tore from the bedroll. His bedside manner isn’t the worst she’s experienced. “Back in Baldur’s Gate I couldn’t let myself get close to anyone. If I did, they would just become another weakness for Cazador to exploit against me.” His face twists, “And honestly, people weren’t exactly lining up looking for friendship from me.” He keeps going, “What I do know is the last several weeks traveling in a team has been…good. I feel lighter, safer. Like I can actually somewhat enjoy my days, even when you all are acting insufferable.”

He just had to throw that last part in there, Tav thinks - letting out a small chuckle. She doesn’t care, she’s just happy to hear him open up to her like this. She feels less alone.

He moves his hand to her shin, not even thinking as he nervously rubs small circles into her skin. “And Tav, I attribute most of that to you.”

Her breath catches for a second at the look on his face, she can tell he means it when he says, “I may not be the best at it, but I want to be here for you as well.” He clears his throat. “So you need to get it together and start relying on your friends.”

Her face is on fire, but she tries to play it cool. Once again, she was not expecting that at all. 

“What I’m hearing you say is that you do like me after all,” she teases him, a grin on her face now.

He groans in response, “Don’t make me regret this.”

They both sit in silence for a minute, each thinking about what the other said.

“So hypothetically, what if I wanted to keep flirting with you?” Astarion asks, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

She laughs, of all things that’s what he wants to circle back to? “If you want to flirt with me, I’m all for it - but only if you hypothetically really want to.” She tries to read his face.

He looks at her now, eyes straying to her lips. She’s so beautiful in the light of the fire. Hair wet, cheeks rosy, eyes sparkling with amusement. Even slightly scratched up and muddy, she's a vision. He can’t stop himself, “And what if..what if I wanted to kiss you?”

Tav's heart is racing so fast that she can feel her own pulse. What is going on today? First the worst luck she’s had in a while, and now this? The universe is messing with her.

Time to put her cards on the table. She wants to show him she’s sure about him - sure about whatever the hell is going on right now. “I would welcome it.”

He moves her leg gently, placing it back on the ground. In the next moment he’s moved up next to her, studying her face the whole time. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

His eyes are so round and soft - the softest expression she's ever seen on his face. His voice is much lower now, "What if I wanted to kiss you right now?"

Looking to his lips and then back at his eyes, she leans towards him. Only a breath away now, Tav whispers, “Then I would kiss you back.”

And with that he closes the distance, her lips are so soft and warm that it makes him shiver. His tongue swipes against her bottom lip and she welcomes him. It’s not fair how good she tastes. His hands come up to cup both sides of her face and he kisses her more deeply. Her head is swimming, it’s by far one of the most passionate kisses she’s ever received.

He pulls back, slightly breathless, and moves his face to rest against her cheek. “I was really worried about you today.” It's a confession. 

She doesn’t move, just says, “I know,” and brings her hand to cup the back of his neck. She can feel the tension there. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Anytime.”

And she knows he means it.

--

--

--

--

Bonus:

“Ok but seriously, where are the others at? They just let you venture off alone to rescue me?”

He shrugs, “I know at least Karloch and Wyll also went out looking, but I’m sure they’re back at camp by now.”

“What about the others?” 

“They just don’t like you as much as I do apparently.” he cracks a mischievous smile.

“That’s messed up.” She says, but she’s laughing. He loves it when she laughs.

Astarion chuckles, “I can tell you that Gale’s probably making love to his stew right about now.”

Tav shakes her head still smiling, “That sounds painful.”

[reaper2187]

Bela dimitrescu x reader

Amidst the crumbling grandeur of Castle Dimitrescu, Y/N found herself drawn into the enigmatic embrace of Bela Dimitrescu. The towering countess, with her crimson robes and piercing gaze, held an allure that was both intoxicating and terrifying.

Y/N had stumbled upon the castle during a treacherous storm, seeking shelter from the howling winds and relentless rain. As she approached the towering gates, a sense of foreboding settled upon her. Yet, an irresistible curiosity compelled her to venture inside.

Within the dimly lit halls, shadows danced across the cold stone walls. Y/N's footsteps echoed through the eerie silence, her heart pounding in her chest. Suddenly, she heard a soft laughter that sent shivers down her spine.

Turning a corner, she came face to face with Bela Dimitrescu. The countess's eldest daughter stood before her, draped in a flowing gown that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow. Her long, blonde hair framed a face that was both beautiful and cruel.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Bela's piercing gaze locked with hers. In that instant, she felt an undeniable connection, a spark that ignited something deep within her. However, it was quickly tempered by a sense of danger as Bela's lips curled into a predatory smirk.

'Well, well, well,' Bela's voice was like velvet, yet laced with a hint of menace. 'What have we here? A lost little wanderer, seeking refuge in the arms of the night?'

Fear threatened to paralyze Y/N, but she refused to let it consume her. Summoning all her courage, she replied with a trembling voice, 'I... I simply sought shelter from the storm.'

Bela's laughter sent shards of ice through Y/N's veins. 'You think to deceive me, little one? This castle holds nothing but secrets and desires. And you... I sense a darkness within you that calls out to me.'

Over the following days, Bela held Y/N captive, treating her with a mixture of affection and cruelty. She showered her with lavish gifts and seductive caresses, yet her every word dripped with veiled threats. Y/N knew that Bela's obsession with her extended beyond physical pleasure; she craved her very essence.

As the sun sank each evening, Bela's true nature would come to the fore. Her hunger for blood would awaken, and she would feast upon Y/N's veins, her sharp talons leaving thin lines across her skin. Y/N endured the pain with a stoicism that both intrigued and frustrated Bela.

In those moments of vulnerability, Y/N began to see a different side to the countess. Beneath the cold, commanding exterior, there lay a sorrowful soul, trapped by her own desires. Bela's loneliness and longing for companionship reached out to Y/N, and despite the risk, she found herself responding.

One night, as Bela lay beside her, sated and exhausted, Y/N stroked her hair gently. 'You don't have to be this way,' she whispered. 'You can escape the darkness.'

Bela's eyes flickered with a momentary flicker of hope, but it quickly vanished. 'It is too late for me, my dear Y/N,' she said. 'I am a monster, and I must embrace my fate.'

Y/N refused to give up hope. Slowly but surely, through whispered words and gentle touches, she began to chip away at the walls that surrounded Bela's heart. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as an unlikely bond began to form between the captive and her tormentor.

One fateful night, as a full moon cast its eerie glow over Castle Dimitrescu, Bela made a desperate choice. Summoning all her remaining strength, she broke free from the curse that bound her to the darkness. In that single act of defiance, she renounced her vampiric nature and embraced her own mortality.

As the first rays of dawn pierced through the cracks in the castle walls, Bela and Y/N stood side by side, their past divided by a single night of revelation. The castle crumbled around them, its secrets forever buried in the annals of time.

Together, they ventured forth into a new world, one where monsters and humans could coexist in harmony. Bela's name would still evoke fear and fascination in whispered tales, but it would be remembered alongside Y/N's as a testament to the power of redemption and the indomitable spirit that can triumph over even the darkest of desires.