#i will in fact be adding more to this but this is all i got rn dw ill be back w more whether its tmrw or next month thats up to god

[no-144444]

The Grid! : When their teammate likes you...

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: somehow plays it cool…

Oscar understood that you were a magnetic person. You’d always been more extroverted than him, always been a bit more open to other people, and generally, you were just interesting. He got where Lando was coming from, to be fair, he’d fallen for you too. 

But openly flirting with you in the middle of a red flag during one of the most dangerous races of the season? That took a certain asshole. 

Lando Norris. 

Oscar had looked up to Lando throughout his career, and now having him as his teammate was brilliant. He loved it, up to a point. In recent months he’d been noticing the way Lando looked at you. The way he talked to you. The way he always wanted to be around you. 

“Hey baby,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around Oscar as he walked up. “Doing well out there.”

He also knew that you were less than interested in Lando. Not that you didn’t like him, but you did find him slightly immature and ridiculous, especially with how he handles races and media afterwards. You much preferred Oscar’s style of driving, and his way of speaking. 

Oscar nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He watched as Lando’s face fell, then he quickly picked it back up. “Doing our best, right Lando?”

You both looked to Lando, who looked guilty, like he’d been caught. 

“Yeah mate,” he agreed before walking off. 

“Jealous much?” you smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Oscar shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Just wanted a kiss, that’s all.”

“From me or Lando?” you teased.

“You, obviously,” he mocked. 

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Lando Norris: deeply insecure. 

Lando is insecure about a lot of things. One of his main ones is his worth as a human, and a driver. It hit him hard when Oscar got to stand on the top step of a podium before he ever had. He knew it was a matter of circumstance and the fact that the car was getting better, but it still hurt. Yet, you were always there to pick up the pieces. His sweet, kind girlfriend who was always there for him. 

That same girlfriend that was laughing at a joke Oscar told. Oscar wasn’t funny. Oscar has never been funny. 

Lando watched as you two talked. He watched the way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you engaged with his points and added your own. The way you two easily laughed, joked, and teased each other without ever going too far. 

He couldn’t help but feel… without. You had always been more introverted, and your extroverted side always seemed to come out with other introverts, aka, not Lando. Then began his spiralling of wondering whether or not he was good enough for you. He knew you loved him, and he loved you, but would that be enough? When you’re so different? When he can’t give you what Oscar can? Oscar was a 2-time-Gp winner in his second year. Oscar was more similar to you than Lando was. Oscar’s personality was closer to yours than Lando’s was. 

Was he enough for you?

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He walked into the hotel room, exhausted, and glad that the day was over. Media days took it out of him, and he was sick of watching Oscar’s smug face as he charmed you all day. 

You flung yourself on the bed, exhausted. “Oscar would not shut up today, would he?” you sighed. 

Lando’s lips quirked up into a smile. He turned to hide it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He kept talking to me about random shit, and I had to pretend to be interested all day.”

Lando almost laughed. “You don’t seem to mind when I talk your ear off.” 

“Yeah, obviously not,” you scoffed, looking at him as if it were obvious. “I like your rants. You don’t expect me to answer you all the time. You just let me listen. Plus, I love your voice.”

Lando’s heart felt fuller than it did before. You picked him. You loved him. 

“You like my voice, eh?” he smirked, joining you on the bed. He pressed soft kisses to your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. “I know a way you can hear it-”

“Lando, did I not just say I’m exhausted,” you chuckled, playfully pushing him off. 

He smiled. You truly were perfect. 

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Lewis Hamilton: unbothered 

He watched as George attempted to flirt with you and laughed. You laughed too, thinking it was a joke. George walked off, embarrassed. 

Lewis walked over and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “George is-”

“Pathetic?” he offered and you shook your head. 

“Don’t be so mean!” you scolded. 

“He’s a big boy, he can take it,” he smirked. “And anyways, what was he thinking?”

“I am your wife,” you nodded, agreeing. “But he is pretty cute…”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” he teased. 

You laughed. “Never.” 

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George Russell: trusts you

“Lewis, nice to meet you,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n Russell.”

“Y/n… your sister?” Lewis turned to George, smirking. “I didn’t realise she was so pretty, I guess someone had to take all the beauty genes.”

“She’s my wife,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist. “And yes, she is gorgeous.”

You somehow kept it together as Lewis apologised and walked off, but immediately broke out into laughter as he turned his back. 

“What a dick,” George chuckled. “You alright?”

“All good baby,” you giggled. “A bit weirded out that he thought we were siblings.”

George nodded, grimacing. “I vote we never speak about this again.”

“I second that,” you nodded. 

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Kimi Antonelli: confused more than anything

Ollie was a really nice guy, one of Kimi’s best friends despite only knowing each other for a year. He was a good teammate and a good friend. 

Kimi was clueless. He didn’t always understand what people meant when people ‘flirted’, to be fair, English was his second language. He watched as Ollie wrapped an arm around you, resting it over your shoulder as you grimaced, clearly wanting him to stop. Kimi just shrugged, assuming you’d just push him off or ask him to stop. You weren’t exactly known to put up with shit like that, so he wasn’t worried. You three walked around the Monaco bay, looking at the boats as the sun set, all three of you full from dinner. When you finally parted ways, you and Kimi went back to your hotel room as Ollie stayed out, going to Arthur’s house to visit, you sighed as you lay down. 

“What did you think of Ollie?” Kimi asked, laying beside you, your back to him. 

“Apart from his obvious flirting, I thought he was nice, I guess,” you shrugged. 

Kimi frowned. “What do you mean?”

You turned around to see him. “Him flirting? Yeah, I thought you’d say something about it,” you explained. “He was kind of… weird about it.”

“Did he make you uncomfortable?” he asked, upset with himself that he hadn't noticed. 

You stared at him with an inquisitive look, he really was oblivious. “Of course he did.”

“What?” he questioned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to make a bad impression,” you muttered. “He’s your best friend.”

“And you’re my girlfriend,” he reminded you, taking your hand. “And you are more important. If someone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me and I will deal with it, alright?”

You nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his hand. “Thanks Kimi.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. 

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Alex Albon: slightly insecure…

He sat in his drivers room, he’d just filmed Team Torque with you and Logan, and he couldn’t help but feel… left out. You were American, specifically from the exact state of Florida, where Logan was from, you lived on the same street. You’d grown up together before he left to move to do European single-seaters. The entire episode was just you two talking and reminiscing over your joint experiences as a kid. Logan remembered everything about you, your favourite colour, your favourite food, even your favourite childhood movie (which Alex had gotten wrong). 

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, sitting beside him. “You’re not talking.”

“I didn’t know you and Logan were such good friends,” he admitted. 

You shrugged. “We grew up together.” 

“I know,” he responded, his voice low and hardened. “I didn’t know he’d remember everything about you.”

“I mean, people told me he had a crush on me in middle school so…” you trailed off when you noticed how Alex was closing his eyes and nodding. “Are you… jealous, or something?”

“No.” Yes. 

You smiled, feeling a little bit guilty. “Alex, you don’t have to be jealous,” you assured him. “I love you. More than anything.”

The pain in his chest eased slightly. “You’re sure?”

“Very,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

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Franco Colapinto: doesn’t even notice or gaf

Alex laughed at one of your jokes as Franco looked over some of the data from his crash. After a while, you walked over, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind. 

“Hi bebé,” he smiled, tired, but happy to see you. “How are you?”

You groaned. “Alex keeps flirting with me.”

His ears pricked up hearing you say that. “Alex?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. He turned to you. 

“Should I ask him to stop? I can talk to him-”

“It’s alright, I made him aware of the fact that I’m not interested,” you explained. 

“Oh, alright,” he shrugged. “Once you’re happy.”

He went back to looking over the data and you frowned. No reaction? No possessiveness?

“You don’t mind?” you questioned. 

“That he was flirting with you?” he asked, you nodded. “No, not really. I’m the one you’ve chosen for 3 years. We love each other, sí?” 

You nodded. 

“So we’re fine,” he smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

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Logan Sargeant: also a bit upset…

He sighed as he watched Alex chat to you, a smirk on his face. You were his girlfriend, Alex couldn’t have you. Alex had James, Alex had Williams, Alex had the talent. Logan had you. Alex couldn’t have you. 

You glanced back at Logan, who had grown quieter in recent moments, and you frowned. His eyes were blown up, wide-eyed, mouth open, and his mind was thousands of miles away. You politely ended the conversation with Alex, dragging Logan back into his driver's room with a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, trying to play it off. “I”m fine, just… tired.”

You frowned again. “Logan, you can talk to me.” 

He shook his head, his hands gripping your waist, then the dam broke and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you if I lose this.”

Your heart broke. “Logan you’d-“

“No, please just let me talk,” he whispered. “I love you, more than anything. We both know I’m getting replaced either after or during this season,” hearing him say it as such a definite, hurt you. You knew how badly Williams had messed him up, but to hear him so defeated? You could’ve cried. “And I don’t want to lose you if I lose all of this. I love racing, but I love you more. You’ve been here through everything, always. You’re always here for me, and I just hope I haven’t fucked this whole relationship up with all my mental health stuff and being a bad driver-”

“Logan,” your tone was stern. “I love you. I love you, my Logan. I support ‘F1 driver Logan Sargeant’, and you’ll always be that, but I love Logan Sargeant, the boy who asked me out when I was 14 and never looked back, the boy who has made me feel loved and supported since that day, the boy who fought an uphill battle and is only now realising he’s allowed to let the boulder fall. I love that you’re a fighter. I love that you’re a driver. But I love most that you care about and love me. I care more about your mental health than any money or fame you could ever gain. I’m not asking you to keep putting yourself through this, Logan. I want you to be healthy and happy. I want you to smile again. I want to see the real you again.”

“What is the real me if I’m not winning?” his voice was just below a whisper. 

“You get to figure that out,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now please look at me Logan, so you know that I’m telling the truth.”

He raised his head, his eyes watery as he looked at yours, and for the first time in a while, he actually felt like it might all be ok. 

Granted, only when he was with you, but alright all the same. 

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Daniel Riccardo: freaky wit it

Daniel gripped his steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white under his gloves. He was in the car, meant to be in the zone, but all he could think about was the way that Yuki had a hand on your back. He knew Yuki definitely wasn’t a threat to him or his relationship, but it still felt shitty not being able to get over there and show him that you were his. 

He rushed out of the car, exhausted after bringing the VCarb in Q3 yet again, and immediately his hands were on you. 

“Looking so good today baby,” he whispered between kisses. “So fuckin’ pretty for me.”

You groaned against his lips, smiling. “Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah baby, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he smirked as he pushed a hand into your underwear. Your eyes went wide and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loud. You weren’t even in his drivers room, you were doing it against Yuki’s door in the hallway. 

“We should-fuck- we should go to your r-room,” you stuttered out as he rubbed your clit in lazy circles. 

“Why?” he smirked. “When I could have you right here and now,” he punctuated every word with a kiss, moving your hand and swallowing your moans as he sped up. “So fuckin’ beautiful so me.”

“Dan,” you moaned as he finally pushed a finger in. 

“So wet for me too. You like doing it like this? Where anyone could hear you? Anyone could see us?” he knew his words were falling on deaf ears as he revelled in the fact that he got to watch you fall apart for him. He got to make you cum, he got to kiss you, he heard every laugh, saw every part of you and your personality. It was him who you picked to love, and be loved in return. 

And by God, he wouldn’t trade you for the world. 

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Liam Lawson: angry sex anyone???

Liam grabbed your hand, pulling you into his drivers room after he had watched Yuki give you heart-eyes yet again. 

“That fucking dick,” he seethed, pressing his body against yours, pressing kisses up and down your neck. “Always fuckin’ wants what’s mine.” 

“Liam,” you whimpered as he pushed you down on the bed. “Please.”

Any and all control of himself was abandoned, and he pulled his race suit off, watching as you pulled off your dress. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he cursed, climbing on top of you as he smirked. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slowly pushed inside you. It burned, in the best way. “All yours.”

He smiled. “That’s my girl, taking me so well.”

Once he was fully inside and you were comfortable, he was thrusting in and out of you at a rate previously unknown to Liam. Did he like fast and rough sex? Yes. Was it ever this fast? No. Was it ever this rough? … no comment. He was grabbing and smacking all over your ass and tits, you were too busy gripping onto his hair as he used you how he pleased, all the while cursing out Yuki and praising you. 

You both left the driver’s room a little bit less steady than before, but much more satisfied than going in. Liam felt better too, since he’d given you something to show just how much he meant it when he said he was yours, and you were his. That something stayed dripping down your leg as Liam finished the race, ahead of Yuki. 

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Charles LeClerc: death?

He watched, the light in his eyes slowly dying, as you spoke animatedly to Carlos. 

Carlos Sainz, now number one enemy of Charles LeClerc. 

Honestly, he knew you’d never choose anyone over him, you loved him and he knew that. Still, some voice inside of him continued to urge him to run over to you two and scream ‘mine’ and then run off with you. He didn’t, obviously. He knew you would’ve been mad at him if he did. 

As the day continued, you stayed talking to Carlos, every so often, Charles would interject with a sarcastic comment, or some stupid fact about you, then following it up with ‘yeah, I know more than you’. It turned the two of them into school children. Both of them coming to you at different times of the day with random facts about random things, until you finally told them both to stop and share their love of facts with each other, not you. You had gotten so frustrated with the two of them, that you didn’t even want to speak to Charles. 

They both stopped after that. 

Any time Charles was jealous after that palaver? Yeah, he just stuck with the regular PDA overload. He didn’t want to deal with another sex ban. 

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Carlos Sainz: also freaky wit it

His gaze darkened as he watched Charles put a hand on your shoulder. Bullshit. You were his girlfriend. You were his. 

“Querida, stop fucking with me,” he demanded, a tight hold on your arm as he dragged you into his hotel room, 30 minutes later. 

You scoffed. “I’m shockingly not fucking with you at all,” you smiled, annoyed but unsurprised at his shitty behaviour. “In fact, I was being perfectly nice to everyone, including you, all night.”

He watched as you sat on the bed, exasperated and tired of his behaviour. He noticed how you quickly pulled off your heel, took down your hair and sighed, staring at him. 

“What?” you asked. “What did I do now?”

Part of him left bad, it wasn’t your fault that you were irresistible. It wasn’t your fault that Charles thought he could have whatever he wanted. It wasn’t your fault that you had to be kind, just to keep up appearances. It still made his blood boil, but he did appreciate the fact that it wasn’t technically your fault. 

But someone had to help him get rid of all of this pent up tension. 

“On your knees,” he spoke, his voice low and laced with desire. Your eyes widened, but you did as he said anyway and sank down to your knees in front of him, “It’s going to be a long night, querida. I can’t wait to see your pretty makeup smudged,” he smiled sadistically as you tried to not be as turned on as you were. 

I guess you two were a match made in heaven, or maybe hell. 

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Arthur LeClerc: plays his jealousy off… (not)

He grabbed a handful of your ass, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to yours as you yelped. You had been unsuspecting as you leaned over the guest barrier, trying to hear what Manuel was saying to you, when Arthur had caught his other teammate, Charles, staring at you with a smirk. 

You shoved him off after a few seconds and stared at him, waiting for an explanation. 

He shrugged. “Je voulais t'embrasser,” (I wanted to kiss you). “Is that a crime?”

“When you’re doing it like that, yes,” you chuckled, amused by his jealousy. 

“What?’ he smirked. “You don’t like it?” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “Arthur LeClerc,” your tone was warning. “Don’t push it,” you leaned in closer, whispering. “Tout le monde n'est pas aussi obsédé par moi que toi, arrête d'être jaloux.” (Not everyone is as obsessed with me as you, stop being jealous).

He laughed. “Tu es irrésistible,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “I cannot help it!” You gave him the finger as he walked away, and he blew you a kiss.

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Ollie Bearman: a bit upset…

He literally hit his head against the desk as he watched Kimi flash you his signature smile. He was sick of it. You were his girlfriend, not Kimi's best friend. You were his girlfriend. Alas, he couldn’t exactly whisk you away, you were his race engineer after all, and this was a strategy meeting, so he sucked it up and paid attention, trying not to look at you. 

You’d noticed how low Ollie had been all day and caught up with him as you walked out of the strategy meeting. “You alright?” you asked, wrapping one his arms around your shoulders as you walked beside him, away from the rest of the group. 

“I’m alright,” he lied, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on his lips. You frowned. 

“Please talk to me,” you begged. “I don’t like it when you shut me out.”

He sighed. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” you smiled. “I’m sure it’s not Ollie, just talk to me.”

“I don’t like how close Kimi is to you,” he admitted. “I’m… It makes me jealous sometimes.”

Your face softened. “So I’ll put some distance,” you shrugged. “Easy.”

He did a double-take. “N-no I- you don’t have to do-”

“Ollie. I want us to work, and if that means I have to ask Kimi to back off a little bit, then I’ll do it, yeah?”

Ollie nodded. “I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Bearman,” you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your lips to his. 

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Max Verstappen: ummm guys???

Max would be an insufferable child. He would literally hide their gloves and racing shoes, he would put dish-soap in their bottle, he’d somehow fuck up their laundry, and all because they looked at you too long. You were his, why would anyone else think you were available. 

There he was, on live, racing with his team, when you came over with another can of redbull for him. He’d been focused on the game, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of his teammate, Luke’s stream. He saw him checking you out. 

He saw red. 

“Luke, do you need something or do you just like staring at my girlfriend?” he scoffed and you groaned. He wasn’t unknown to make scenes in public. 

“Max,” you groaned. “Please don’t.”

He rolled his eyes and settled for a kiss on the cheek while Luke just blushed. Max understood where he was coming from, you were fucking gorgeous. That still didn’t make it right though. 

Again, a little while later, he caught Luke staring at you as you sat in the back of his set up, watching the race silently. 

“Seriously Luke, do I need to turn off my camera or can you act like an adult and keep it in your pants?” He scoffed. “Het is onzin,”(it’s bullshit) he sighed.

“Max, calm down,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, muting his mic. “Who gives a fuck about Luke?”

He groaned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he admitted. 

“I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright,” you smiled, kissing him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled, then went back to his racing, though he did push Luke off the track (in the game) a few (7) times. 

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Paul Aron: he trusts you. 

He sighed, watching Armaury place a hand on your waist. Was he losing you?

Then he smiled as he watched you shove him off, shouting in his face. You were a big girl, you could handle yourself. You didn’t always need Paul to come in and protect you, he loved that about you. He felt his sense of pride growing as you walked over, still shouting at his teammate who was looking increasingly guilty and uncomfortable, even more so when you ran over to Paul and kissed him right there and then, in front of everyone. 

Yeah, he really had nothing to worry about. 

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Lance Stroll: mf he is scary. 

Lance smirked as he watched James (a friend of his) wrap an arm around your waist as you danced with a couple friends. Your face screwed up into one of disgust, and you politely excused yourself to get another drink. James sauntered over to Lance, a smug smile on his face. 

“Might want to keep your lady on a tighter leash,” he smirked. 

“Oh yeah?” Lance cocked an eyebrow. 

“Yeah man, she was dancing all over me!” he chuckled. “Seriously, I’d steal if she wasn’t such a-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he told him, his tone dangerous. “My girlfriend is exactly that, my girlfriend. If you want to go dance with her and make her uncomfortable, that’s your prerogative, but don’t be surprised when I punch you for it.”

His ‘friend’ left quickly after that. He didn’t bother you again. 

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Jack Doohan: maybe a bit angry…

He scoffed as he watched Pierre try yet another pick-up line on you and he felt himself get even angrier. Yes, he was the new guy. Yes, he should definitely bite his tongue and suck it up. Did he do that? No…

He went over to you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your head as Pierre’s face fell into a frown. 

“Oh, you two are-!” He started.

“Together? Yeah. 3 years, right babe?” He smiled, a little too smiley for regular Jack.

“3 years, sounds right,” you nodded. “Nice to meet you Pierre,” you smiled before walking off, away from the two of them. Jack followed behind you and you sighed. “You’re an idiot.”

“It’s not my fault I have a hot girlfriend,” he defended. 

“It’s not my fault I’m the hot girlfriend!” You laughed. “Just… keep your jealousy to yourself in the future!”

He grabbed onto your waist a pleading look in his eye. “But you make it so hard…”

“Don’t give me ‘fuck me’ eyes right now Jack Doohan,” you scoffed, pushing him off. “You are such a child.”

He chuckled, happy with himself. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[issysh3ll]

Phases ♡ Matt Sturniolo

Phase 1 - Menstrual

Summary: Matt looking after you on your period Warnings: Smut, period sex, blood, crying, soft dom! Matt, period pain, fluff, angst Wordcount: 1k

This is part 1 of a series. To find the other parts click here

“I’ve got you” Matt soothes, his voice gentle as he slides his cock wetly in and out of you. The feel of his hard length gliding against your walls blends with the cacophony of sensations warring in your abdomen. His pace is slow and gentle, carefully edging himself inside your sensitive body. The warm liquid leaking from within you acts as lubricant, easily coating his length in a deep red.

The tight pull of your muscles cramping slowly eases as pleasure begins to flow through your body. Matt’s cock glides gently against your sweet spot with each slow thrust, his only goal being to ease the pain your body is experiencing. His hands caress over your hips softly, comforting you as he moves.

Your body had been aching with cramps all day and despite all the nice things Matt had done to try to help you, nothing had brought relief. Finally, Matt had timidly suggested sex as a remedy.  “I heard that it helps with cramps… I just- just wanna help you, hate seeing you in pain like this” He whispered, wiping a stray tear away from your cheek. 

Now those tears of pain have turned to tears of relief as you gaze up at your boyfriend. His hair falls in his eyes as he concentrates on moving gently in and out of you. His jaw hangs slack with small breathless moans and praises. The fact that he’s so eager to help you, trying so hard to make this just what your body needs, causes your heart to soar. A warm smile spreads over your face as you take in all that is him. 

Matt notices your smile and brings his hand to brush away that final tear rolling down your chin as he whispers, “feeling better, princess?”

You nod and turn your head into his touch, kissing his wrist as his hand cups your cheek, “Much better. Thank you, Matt”

A fond smile warms Matt’s face upon hearing the relief in your voice and feeling your body relax under him. His hands continue soothing across your skin, gently massaging into you in time with the slow movements of his hips.

Your eyes drop closed as the long awaited relief from your cramps washes through you, being replaced now with a gentle pleasure as Matt’s cock rubs against just the right spots inside of you. Your eyes flutter open again and you look up at your boyfriend, admiring the way his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth in concentration. The slow gentle pace Matt had set to allow you to adjust is now holding you back as you can feel your body yearning for more. Your hand wraps around his arm, squeezing him gently as you speak, “Matt… faster, need more.”

Matt nods, carefully thrusting his hips forward a little faster, his cock easily gliding between your walls with the added wetness of your blood coating him. His mouth drops open with a groan at the increased pace sending a new wave of pleasure through his body. “F-fuck, princess… so wet.” 

The change in pace sends new waves of pleasure through your body, the aches of your cramps long forgotten as your muscles begin to tense in a new, much better way. You feel the knot in your stomach forming, inching closer to snapping with each brush of Matt's tip against that sweet spot inside you. 

“Ah– Matt, m’close” you moan, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your mind begins to go blank as the pleasure Matt is bringing you fills every nerve in your body, leaving no room for your thoughts. 

A low groan pulls from matt’s throat and he quickly stutters out a warning, “f-fuck, m’cumming”. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper inside you just as his cock begins to twitch uncontrollably, painting your walls with his load. 

Your release follows closely, the feeling of your boyfriend twitching inside you being enough to push you over the edge. A loud cry leaves your lips and your legs tighten around Matt. Your hands grip the sheets and your back arches, your walls spasming around Matt’s cock.

Your body goes limp, your breath coming in deep pants as you try to catch your breath and gather yourself after the overwhelming pleasure. Matt collapses on top of you, placing a hand in your hair and panting heavily against your neck. As your mind slowly returns to your body you notice the calm in your abdomen where your pains had previously been and a relieved smile crawls over your face.

“Thank you, Matt. Feels better.”

After a long while of just laying together, feeling the calm warmth of each other’s bodies Matt carefully sits up, pulling himself out of you slowly. A mixture of his warm cum and your period blood begin trickling out and onto the bed sheets. The clear reminder of your situation knocks you back to reality, the temporary bliss that Matt’s touch had brought you quickly dissipates and you feel the muscles in your uterus begin to tense again. 

“Matt, feels bad again” you groan dejectedly, flopping your head back down against the pillows in defeat. 

“I know, sweetheart. Let’s get you in the shower, yeah?” 

Matt’s frame disappears behind the door to your bathroom briefly, the sound of running water following a few seconds later. As Matt returns to your side, he gently loops one arm under your knees and the other around your shoulders. He pulls you tight to his chest, lifting you off the now blood stained sheets and carrying you to the bathroom. 

The warm water of the shower slowly washes away some of the tightness in your muscles as you lean against Matt. His hands move gently over your body, washing the remnants of blood, sweat and sex away from your skin. You stay there, under the warm water, in your boyfriend’s arms for a long while. The soft, loving embrace helps to ease your mind and relax the muscles in your body. 

“C’mon, princess… let’s get out” Matt eventually speaks up, pulling back slightly from your grip to hold his water wrinkled hands up to you. His brows furrow and he mutters, with far too much concern, “we’re gon’ turn into prunes…” 

Your lips turn up in a weak smile at his concern and you nod at him. Matt responds with a dumb grin before switching the water off. He steps out of the shower before you, quickly waddling over to the towel rack and holding the soft fabric open for you. 

As the warm towel wraps around you in Matt’s arms he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple and whispering, 

“how 'bout a movie and back massage now? I’ll warm up your heat pack for ya’...”

Masterlist

[fastandcarlos]

What Baby Wants, Baby Gets : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: he might try and guilt you for making him go out in the early hours to satisfy your cravings, but you won't let him win

You couldn’t help but smile as Max groaned beside you, his arms stretching up before his hands ran over his face, head tilting to his left so that he could glance across and take a look at you. 

“Morning,” you whispered, resting your head down against his shoulder. “Did you have a good sleep?” You then asked, sniggering as Max scoffed, his head immediately shaking across at you. 

In the early hours you found yourself struggling, unable to push the thoughts of your cravings to the back of your mind. For a while Max managed to ignore it, but eventually he made the mistake of asking if you wanted something, only for you to tell him yes. 

It felt like a figure of speech when you first fell pregnant, with Max telling you to get him if you needed something, wherever, whenever. But he didn’t quite imagine himself actually being woken up at two in the morning with you begging him to help you out. 

“Last night was a one-time thing,” Max told you, covering his mouth as he let go of a yawn. “Do you know how long it took for me to fall back to sleep? Especially with you snoring right beside me.” 

An apology came from you, but so did a chuckle as Max glared down at you. As soon as your craving what satisfied, you found yourself easily able to fall asleep, not worrying about Max and the fact that he was now the restless one tucked up beside you. 

Although he teased, he was relieved to see you resting though, knowing just how little sleep you were getting with your baby constantly reminding you that he was there. 

“I do appreciate what you did last night,” you whispered, brushing your hand gently through Max’s hair. “You didn’t have to get up and run to the store.” 

“I did, because I promised that I would always do whatever I could to help you,” Max reminded you, kissing against the top of your head, “and what baby wants, baby gets.” 

Your head nodded as Max trailed one of his hands down to rest against the top of your baby bump, his smile wide as he felt just how big it was again, knowing that you were already nearing the halfway mark. 

“I know for a fact that this little one appreciates what you do too, they were feeling particularly peckish last night,” you added, pressing a kiss to Max’s shoulder. 

His eyes rolled as once again you used the baby to get to him, knowing that if there was one person that he couldn’t say no to, it was definitely your baby. 

“I can’t wait for when the baby arrives so I can tell you to go and get your own food again,” Max joked, “you won’t be able to treat me like your slave anymore.” 

“You’re so dramatic, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy all of this.” 

It wasn’t exactly his favourite thing to do getting up in the early hours of the morning, but knowing that he was helping you out did fill Max with pride. 

“Maybe I’d enjoy it more if you asked at a decent time,” he laughed in response. 

“I don’t think I get much of a choice, if you’ve got a problem, bring it up with your child instead,” you smiled, tapping against your baby bump. 

Max’s eyes watched over you carefully as you moved closer into his side, moving one of your hands to rest against the small of your back. A groan came from you as you tried to get comfortable again, a game that you had been playing with your child for several weeks now. 

“Do you think the baby knows the most inconvenient times are to be annoying to us?” You asked Max, hearing a chuckle come from him. “Why can’t they be restless at lunch? That would be perfect.” 

“I don’t think they’re smart enough to tell the time yet,” Max sniggered, squeezing around your frame. “It’s going to get easier, hopefully the cravings will stop soon.” 

Your head nodded as Max tried his best to reassure you. Whenever you were struggling, he was right there with you, somehow Max always knew the right thing to say to make you feel better, making sure to hold onto you too to let you know that he was there. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Max whispered closely to your ear, “whatever comes our way then we’re just going to take it on together and find a way to figure things out.” 

You hummed as Max spoke, a lot more doubtful than he was. If he could, Max would read just about every baby book, watch every documentary, absorb as much knowledge as he possibly could to make sure he knew exactly what to do in every possible situation. 

“If it’s not morning sickness it’s cravings, and then once that finishes then it’s going to be the lack of sleep, soon enough I’m not even going to be able to see my feet.” 

Before you could continue, Max quickly shushed you. “And I’ll be there to help you with all of that, no matter where we are or when it is.” 

“I thought you didn’t like the early hours?” 

Max jabbed against your side as you teased him, knowing that regardless of the time he would always be there. It hurt him a lot seeing you so uncomfortable so often, he wished that there was more that he could do to make your life easier than it currently was. 

“If I were you, I’d make the most of me running around after you,” Max grinned, “because once the baby is here, they’ll be the only person I’ll be waking up at three o’clock in the morning for.” 

“You mean to say you’d leave me to fend for myself?” 

“Absolutely,” Max jokingly smiled, “you’re capable of getting up and sorting yourself out, a little baby isn’t quite as developed as you are.” 

“I’m spending nine months growing this child of yours, just in case you’ve forgotten that,” you quickly reminded him. 

“I know, I’m just messing with you,” Max assured, squeezing your frame. “I might have to cut myself in half so one part of me can look after you and the other look after the baby, that way I might just be able to be in two places at once.” 

“I’ll be alright,” you whispered, only for Max’s head to shake, refusing to let you take care of yourself straight away once the baby arrived. 

It didn’t matter whether you were pregnant or not, injured or in peak condition, Max loved looking after you and would always do so, regardless of how much you sometimes protested against him. 

Now more than ever he was glued to your side, he’d tease you and mess with you but he wouldn’t have it any other way, being able to help you was one of the things he enjoyed the most at the moment. 

“I can’t wait to see how things play out over the next few months, how big of a change is about to take place in our lives,” Max mused, resting his head on top of yours. 

“I’m terrified,” you admitted, “no one can predict how this is going to play out, there’s a fear of the unknown lingering in the back of my mind right now.” 

“You don’t need to worry,” Max assured you, “no matter what happens, we’re going to face it together, I’m going to be right here with you.” 

“Even in the early hours of the morning?” 

“Even in the early hours my love.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[roordismo]

winners love winning - alexia putellas

Warnings: suggestive smut MDNI 18+

Wordcount: ~1.1k

__________________________________________

You had been a barca fan as long as you could remember, being mesmerised by the likes of Iniesta and Xavi quickly turned into being a big fan of Vicky Losada and Mariona Caldentey. So when they came knocking on your door, it was an offer you simply couldn't refuse. You settled in easily, barcelona had always been your number one holiday destination and you were quickly growing fond of the team. However you liked your captain a little more than you probably should. The two of you met during an international game, swapping shirts after you lost the game, it made the loss a little easier to take. And now, she was shining for barca, playing like she always used to. She had a certain charm and you’d be flat-out lying if you said you weren’t attracted to her.

"We're going out tonight at Razzmatazz right?" You asked, as you were trying on another top. You were at Claudia's apartment with Patri and Cata, getting yourselfs ready before meeting the rest at the club. "Yes we are and your girlfriend ale, is also tagging along this time, please try to not to stare as much this time" Patri said, rolling your eyes at her comment. She teased you endlessly ever since she found about your thing for the captain. You were trying to show her a meme you saved in your tiktok favourites, but instead an edit of alexia popped up on your screen. "She's not my girlfriend, asshole" you responded whilst taking another shot. Pre-drinks at Claudia's were the usual every time you went out, it was their, and now also your way of getting ready. "We all know you wish she was" Cata mumbled, leaving you speechless looking redder than a tomato. They were planning on getting wasted and so were you, the already few days of vacation were gonna be spent on having the best time possible. First you were going out, then spending the remaining days on a group holiday, somewhere away from the public eye, preferably in Spain, before all leaving for the international break.

A few drinks in, they decided it was better to walk, the club wasn't that far away after all and some fresh air wouldn't hurt. "Mira, no more okay? Sé que todas son bromas, pero no quiero arruinar la amistad" you said in a half-whisper, holding the door open for the rest to come in. (Look, i know it's all jokes, but i don't want to ruin the friendship) You had been working on your Spanish, not feeling entirely comfortable, but it being good enough to hold proper conversations with your teammates. Unsurprisingly, Alexia was the first one you greeted "Ale! You finally stopped being boring for once!" Earning you a laugh from your captain, if only she knew how much you loved it. She was wearing quite a simple outfit, a top with a blazer and a pair of jeans, yet she still looked otherworldly. Resting your gaze onto her as she spoke to Ingrid and Mapi, your phone pinged:

- Patri: just kiss her already jesus

- me: callate, hdp (shut up, asshole)

You went back to your conversation with your captain, who was also having a conversation about the ballon d'or. It took less than a minute before your phone pinged again:

- Cata: stop eyefucking her pleaseeeee

This time you chose to ignore it, instead you sat down next to Esmee and Kika, who were talking about their holiday plans.

- you were added to "15 × 11"

You sighed, alexias and your numbers in the squad, this was in fact gonna go on the whole night.

- Clau: we've got an offer for you

- if you get with her before we leave, we'll pay for your drinks

- Cata: and if you go home with her to play cards ;) we'll also pay for your share of the group holidays

- me: i'll do it. But to make it clear, it's cause i want her, not the money.

I went up to talk to them, before shooting my shot. "I hate you guys", you said. "No you don't." Claudia responded as you walked away. You needed a drink first before you were shooting your shot. "2 shots porfa" planning on giving one to the Catalan woman. As you were giving her the glass you said "Ale, quieres bailar? Cata said you were being boring and "mature" as always, wanna prove her wrong?" This was your one chance and you weren't gonna waste a second. The music was getting louder and you weren't leaving much room for Jesus. "Que guapa eres..." (you're so hot) she breathed out, her hand tracing along your arm. "What did you say?" You asked, playing innocent even though you heard her loud and clear. "Nada, amor, nada." (Nothing, love, nothing) She turned you around, working your back into her, when you felt your phone buzzing again.

- Patri: perrear??? Se te ve la cabeza??? (grinding??? Have you lost your mind???)

“Jesus, you’re insane” you heard her mutter from behind you. It was just a matter of time before she’d give in. She pulled you away from the people into a bathroom stall, locking lips before the door even closed, her hands all over you. You kissed her back fiercely, yet letting her take control. As she kept you pinned to the thin bathroom wall, her hands started wandering. However you were snapped back to reality when you heard your phone ring.

- 15x11 is calling (videocall)

Groaning as you looked at your screen, you picked up. “What do you guys want this time?” you asked, clearly annoyed your moment got interrupted and trying to show as little of the Catalan woman next to you as possible. “We thought we lost you”, it was obvious they had seen you leave with Alexia, “but given you left with a certain someone, we think you’re all good”, they laughed, earning the finger. “amor, we’ve got some unfinished business, don’t you think?” she smiled against your lips, her hand moving along your spine. “we really do,” you replied, pressing your lips to hers once more. “My apartment it is”, as she moved away to get out of the bathroom. “We’re leaving guys!” You screamt, looking to see if your friends could hear you, as alexia was saying her goodbyes to the others.

- me: i got the girl, winners love winning

You texted, smiling whilst entering your captain's apartment. Both eager to get back to what you started.

a/n: this is my first time doing this, lmk if you got advice or anything

[inchidentally]

Sorry new landoscar fan here, I kept seeing the notion that Oscar was Lando’s fan for years, but I can’t seem to find any info about that?

ofc babe ! I store a lot of it in this tag but I think a little roundup post is probably due - heads up this is not in chrono order bc a lot of it is referenced from recent content:

2015 and Oscar making the big move to the UK to join Ricky Flynn and his fanboying of Lando begins

tiktok compilation of Oscar revealing his chronic Lando content consumption well before they were teammates

compilation from twitter of Oscar's decided bias toward not only liking Lando content but also searching his tag and finding posts that sometimes had barely a few likes (and this was just going back to 2017)

Oscar knowing when Lando's maiden podium was (and Lando calling him a nerd)

the 2020 hornet tweets because Oscar watched the stream of Lando battling 2 hornets in his house x x

2021 Oscar citing Lando's social media inspiring him to use humor as a way to open up to the public more (added landoscar angst here bc the hate and abuse he received after alpinegate seriously made him clam up and between that and him being fairly in awe of Lando, meant that Lando himself didn't rly get to know Oscar's humor until fairly late 2023 - like, no one should underestimate how Oscar entered F1 properly and got to know one of his favorite drivers all while being universally despised and painted as a villain/cold/evil - how much could have been different if one team had simply kept their mouths shut until verifying that tweet first esp when Oscar was already a shared reserve driver w McLaren anyway !!!!)

the beloved Oscar and Max F at Renault Academy lore

this post I made is a mess but the anecdotes he can only know from Lando's or Max's streams streams or Quadrant videos: Lando making stickers and selling them at school; Lando's snoring lore could be because of the thin shared walls but also Max has def brought it up before; he definitely already knew the story of Lando falling from a window trying to break into his own house; and the fact that we got Max reacting to Oscar referencing Max's outrage at Lando forgetting his birthday

it's a bit too scattered to compile but trust and believe Oscar has been a carlando girlie from day one - def the bromance but idk I feel like he's read a fic or twenty

watching Lando's career when asked about his idols coming up

and backing that up, him in 2019 saying the same thing

pulling out the it's Friday theeeen Lando meme

being so addicted to Lando content by 2020 that he actually fanboyed about the LN4 admin interacting w him

and ofc K's beloved Oscar primer has a lot of context about all of this more fleshed out!

I think that's everything but if anyone notices I've forgotten anything lmk !!

[suzukiblu]

Day ten of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I mean–it’s nice,” Kon says, smiling just as helplessly into his collar and keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as they walk. “Just, you know, it’s not the kinda stuff you usually get me. Like–it’s just, you know–pretty, or whatever. It’s not for anything. Like, I can’t wear it for you and it’s not, you know, food or a game or anything.” 

Tim did not actually realize that he hadn't bought Kon anything that didn't count as “useful” yet, though given the video games and candy and jewelry he's pretty sure they just have different definitions of what “useful” actually is. Also he needs to take a moment to not burn alive over Kon saying the phrase “wear it for you” again, which definitely takes the full moment, because Jesus Christ. 

That has not gotten any less affecting, yeah. 

“Oh, I guess,” he says in his best imitation of a normal person's normal voice. “I didn't really think about that. I just thought you might like it, so I got it for you.” 

Kon somehow finds a new shade of red to turn that honestly might actually be a Kryptonian-related one, considering the intensity of it. It is, unfortunately, cute as fuck. 

“I mean, I do like buying you clothes and stuff, obviously. You look really nice in that outfit, for one,” Tim says, and Kon glances away again, still smiling helplessly and still just as red-faced. He really does blush so easy. It’s weird, Tim thinks, given how much flirting he does. But maybe Kon’s just the “can dish it out but can’t take it” type, he guesses. 

Alternately, maybe people just aren’t complimenting him as often as he deserves and he's not used to hearing it. 

. . . Tim makes a mental note to pencil in some affirmations in Young Justice’s next training session and also to buy Kon even more flowers than he was already planning to. Flowers that come with little hand-written cards that say nice things about him, specifically. 

“You better think I look nice in it, pretty boy,” Kon says, biting his lip around another grin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me all fancied up.” 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked the crop top too,” Tim allows, and Kon bursts into laughter and then lets go of his jacket collar and just–beams at him, actually. Just–literally actually beams, brighter than anything in Gotham that doesn’t run on electricity. 

Tim manages not to step off the sidewalk into traffic by Robin-reflexes alone and literally nothing else. 

Jesus, that expression. 

“I like, uh–that,” Kon says, and then blushes a little darker again. “Um–I mean, I like that you, uh . . . like to get me stuff you think I look good in. Uh. I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird, fuck, just–just I like it.” 

“Oh,” Tim says. The warehouse district in his brain is a lost cause; the fire has officially spread to the docks and across downtown. His mental Gotham is going the way of 1871 Chicago, he’s pretty sure. “Uh–um, good. I’m glad.” 

“It’s just, um–I dunno, it’s just nice to look nice for somebody,” Kon murmurs a little bit shyly, tugging his jacket collar up over his mouth again but still obviously smiling behind it. Tim isn’t sure if that’s a line of thought he should be concerned by after the kind of things Kon was saying earlier, if–“Instead of, you know. For everybody.” 

. . . Tim decides that actually, never mind the concern. Kon can look as good for him as he wants to, if what Kon’s used to is being stuck having to look good for some stupid ad campaign or magazine shoot or what the frick ever. And like–it’s not like he has a problem with Kon wanting to wear things he thinks he’ll like. That is pretty much the opposite of a problem for him, in fact. 

It probably explains the makeup, too. There were definitely not any ad campaigns with glitter eyeliner or nail polish involved. 

. . . not that Tim’s seen all the ad campaigns or anything, just–

Alright, fine, he’s seen all the ad campaigns. That’s just Bat SOP, alright? And definitely only Bat SOP.

[skyland2703]

It’s 3 AM, but fuck it, we’re being domestic | Prompts

Alternatively, just some fluffy domestic romance prompts, but they feel more cute when they’re in the middle of the night because one or both of the ship characters are insomniacs.

Dancing together in the kitchen, in the refrigerator light, and then sitting on the kitchen counter, eating ice-cream directly from the carton.

Walking barefoot on the dew covered grass, hand in hand, under the stars.

Sitting on the floor trying to piece together IKEA furniture because one person got obsessed with finishing it the same day.

Middle of the night cooking, except it’s making the weirdest most absurd dishes imaginable, just for fun.

Making love, except it’s on the bedroom floor.

Cleaning cupboards or attics and finding lpppittle mementos, childhood pictures, etc and talking about memories.

Midnight drives with street food pit-stops and making out with the car radio playing in the background.

Tossing a smiley stress ball around the house watching it knock into furniture— Bonus, if one person is tossing it and another is scrambling around trying to make sure no furniture falls over, causing squabbles.

Gossiping about annoying relatives/friends, parents etc.

Making each other coffee, except the rule is: adding all of the other person’s favorite ingredients PLUS one mystery ingredient which might be good bad or ugly. For funs~

Late night massage sessions because they’re old (they’re not even thirty. Maybe they are.) and their back huuurts.

Ramp Walk/Modelling sessions where one person tries out every single outfit in their closet, and the other one rates or judges them all and gives (mostly useless) opinions.

Doing laundry except they can’t put the clothes out for drying because there’s no sun, so they spread them all over the furniture (only the stuff that doesn’t go bad with the water-) and switch on all the fans.

Weird selfie poses and filming random tiktok dances.

Alternately, sitting side by side on the bed (or the floor—) deleting old pictures from their phones to make storage and laughing about embarrassing old pictures. (A “my phone might die of lack of storage but that super embarrassing picture of yours from six years ago isn’t going anywhere!”)

One of them randomly googling super random shit and telling those facts to the other person, and the other one, super sleepy, just nodding along to everything.

Painting dates where either both of them are amazing artists or neither of them are, (or one is and the other isn’t) and they switch canvases periodically to finish each other’s paintings. (Chaos for the ones who can’t paint, and two beautiful art pieces for the ones who can~)

Alternatively, one is an artist and the other models for them while being utterly sleepy bc Artist has insomnia :D

One is a musician and keeps the other up all night with the music. Or alternately, the partner has insomnia and the sleepy musician plays them something to pass the night (and what if it turns out to be a lullaby-)

Turning the junk, broken and useless stuff in their house into a rage room for the night.

Learning crocheting from YouTube and making each other weird little woollen mementos. (Could go for anything really. Learning shit with esch other in the middle of the night from YouTube—)

Annnnd that’s about all I got :3 I’ll probably be back with more! Prompts welcome~

[on-a-lucky-tide]

If you're looking for prompts, I've got a little idea, ,,,, I wanna see Nik fight someone for John. Maybe some asshole doesn't like what he sees when they're outside together, or an enemy, or whatever suits your fancy, but Nik unleashing the beast and maybe going too far but no one touches his love while he's around. Nik losing control of himself for a moment and then waking up, feeling very bad about it all. Angst with comfort, you know :3c (if you haven't written anything similar already, of course !! )

Nik believes Price is dead. He tears the world to pieces in his grief.

cw: extreme violence, torture, child endangerment, no MCD. Nikolai goes off the deepend. (Also for Anon who asked for the same.)

Laswell had delivered bad news many times in her career. It usually started the same way. 'Please sit down...' and then you moved onto the facts of the matter - the ones you could actually tell them - 'they died in the line of duty, they were killed by... they served with distinction' - and finally, you finished with 'I'm sorry for your loss, the United States government is at your disposal if...'

She knew what the relative, or relatives, looked like at each stage. The disbelief, the cracks of emotion spidering through their eyes as they tried to keep themselves together, and then the inevitable disintegration. Some people wailed, others sobbed softly into their hands, one person had roared in anguish and dropped to the floor. Grief looked slightly different on everyone, but she had seen every permutation.

There was usually another family member to pick them up, to offer comfort. It was hard. People got through. They healed, or they didn't. But that, as brutal as it was, was none of her concern. She had no loyalty to them and no history.

Nothing in her career had prepared her for telling Nikolai that Captain John Price had been killed in the line of duty.

John's task force stood with her as Nik walked into the room. She had placed damn tissues in the table. Tissues. Like Nikolai, of all people, would disintegrate into weeping and mucus. Perhaps it would have been easier if he had.

"Laswell," Nik greeted her in his usual manner, eyes crinkled in the corners, his hands spread. He looked at the three men standing around her in turn and instantly noted a fourth missing. The one he looked for first every time. The one that owned his heart and soul. His gaze lingered on Gaz, whose head tilted as if to begin an apology, and then finally Nik looked at Laswell. "Where is the captain?"

"Nik, take a seat." She gestured at the chair next to the table. Nik glanced at it, and then looked back at her. There was no point insisting. He was as stubborn as John was... had been.

The facts. "On 8th October, the 141 were involved in a raid on a base in search of a high value target. The mission went awry, and John was... killed covering the escape of his men." She swallowed, lowering her voice. For the first time since she had learned the news herself, she felt a stab of pain in her chest. "I'm sorry, Nik."

She believed she had seen grief in all its forms, but what she saw in Nikolai's eyes added a new dimension to her understanding. It was like all the light vanished in an instant; the jovial, lively man she had known for years since he turned informant for MI6 dissipated like smoke in the wind. It was a silent death; his face turned hard, his eyes darkened, and his huge body seemed to expand, casting a bigger shadow. The Nikolai she knew, and loved in her own way, disappeared before her very eyes.

"How?" he asked, his voice no more than whisper.

"He was shot," Sergeant MacTavish stepped forward. The scar down his face was still raw; a livid red in the artificial lights. "Savin' us. Watchin' our backs. Like he always did." Soap pulled something from his pocket and slid it across the table to Nik's hands. A boonie hat, Laswell noted. "Don't even 'ave his dog tags tae give ye, I..."

Nik looked at the folded beige cloth in silence, his eyes moving left to right as if he was reading something from it. When he picked it up, he touched the folded rim to his lips and then his forehead, before gazing down at it in his palms. "Who?"

"Nik?" Laswell asked, watching him carefully.

"Who is to blame? Give me the name."

"Nik, I can't--"

"A name, Kate!" His voice snapped like a whip through the room, with all the impact of a gunshot. She saw the fury in his eyes, the sharp edges, the fury, turning his usually warm brown hue into two bottomless pits.

"Makarov," Lieutenant Riley said. "Vladimir Makarov."

"Ultranationalists." It rolled out of Nik's mouth like he was spitting poison from his tongue. The corner of his eye twitched, his lips curling in a sneer. Laswell often forgot how dangerous, how volatile, Nikolai had been in those early days, when his wounds were raw and open, before John had helped him heal into the best version of himself. But she remembered now as she watched those proverbial wounds split open again, rending through psychological scars long since faded. Nik said nothing more, but tucked John's hat into the loops of his belt as he turned to leave.

"Nikolai, whatever you're planning on doing, we must ensure you--"

"There is no 'we', Laswell," Nik said. "There is not even a 'me' anymore."

She watched him leave, her words lodged in her throat. No one else tried to stop him either. They had lost their mentor, their captain, their friend. Nik had lost his heart. She cast a glance at Riley. "If it gets bad, if he goes too far, it'll be you that has to put him down."

Soap scoffed. "Why'd we do tha'? Hope he gives 'em hell."

"The only thing that kept Nikolai on our side was John Price," she said. "And once he's finished tearing through Ultranationalists and realises it hasn't healed his grief, or brought him peace, who do you think a man like Nikolai will come for next?"

They stood in silence.

***

"König, ich möchte dich einstellen."

"Ha! Nikolai? Was ist mit Chimera passiert?"

"Dafür brauche ich eine andere Strategie."

***

"Do your worst. I have nothing to tell you," the prisoner spat, a globule and saliva and blood landing on the floor near Nik's boot. Nik had already torn out three teeth with pliers, broken his ribs and two fingers. The man, one Ivan Yegerov, was tied to the chair with rope and barbed wire, which meant every convulsion tore into his skin, leaving deep welts of rended flesh leaking onto the floor.

He wasn't the first. Not even tonight.

Nikolai had shattered Yegerov's friend's skull with the wrench propped up against the wall nearby. The blood had spattered up his bare torso, matting his chest hair, stained the side of his face. Shirtless, with a buzzcut he hadn't worn since his time in the Russian Air Force, he looked every part the madman he had become. He had ignored Laswell's attempts to contact him, leaving bodies for her men to find, with notes pinned to their foreheads containing their sins. She had stopped trying after two years, but he knew she was still following his blood trail.

Yegerov and his ally had been at the base in Ukraine and, with KorTac's help, it had been a simple matter of extracting key links in the chain for a conversation. Nikolai was tracking them down, one by one, and once he was done there, he would make his way slowly to the top.

"This is not an interrogation," Nik said as he ran his fingers over the tools on the table. "This is revenge. The interrogation will start soon."

Nik selected a serrated hunting knife and turned it over his fingers as he walked towards his captive. Yegerov leaned back in the chair as Nik planted his hands over his broken wrists, seething and whimpering in pain. "Do you know the best way to extract information?" Nik asked. Yegerov said nothing, so Nik squeezed his wrists. "Answer."

"Ah, no! No! I do not."

"They truly do not make terrorists like they used to," Nik said quietly. "I will tell you." Nik ran the tip of the hunting knife down Yegerov's cheek as he spoke, not quite pressing hard enough for it to cut in yet. "You must find a bargaining chip. Every man has something in their life that they cannot live without, a line they will not cross. It is their reason to breathe, it governs their actions, it helps them... find their limit."

Nik stood up straight and reached into his back pocket, his fingers skimming over the folded boonie hat threaded through his belt loops. The picture he pulled out was crumpled and worn, spattered with sweat and blood. It had been pristine when he had snatched it from the overhead screen of his Black Hawk, the rage running in torrents of tears down his face as he had pressed it to his lips.

He had torn himself out of it, because he looked nothing like the man he had; his hair buzzed down to a military shave, his body leaner, his eyes dead. Only John remained, with his big grin and his glittering eyes. Nik pushed the picture close to Yegerov's face as he had done with every man he had killed so far. "He was my line. My reason to breathe. And you took him away."

Yegerov squinted, terrified eyes lifting away from the picture of a smiling John Price to Nik's. Before he could say anything, the nearby door burst open and König forced two hooded figures through in front of him, one so small he barely reached his hip. "Ah, bargaining chips," Nikolai stood, throwing the hunting knife to the table. "Shall we find your line, comrade?"

König shoved his hostages forward to stand before Yegerov and then tore their hoods off. Yegerov let out a strangled wail of horror as he drank in the tear-stained faces of his wife and daughter. "No, no!"

"This is how it works," Nikolai said. "You give me name of someone who will know the current whereabouts of Makarov, and I will allow you to choose who survives." It was unlikely Yegerov would know anything. Nik just wanted him to experience the feeling of powerlessness as his loved ones died before his eyes.

The same feeling Nik had felt when he had been considering turning his Black Hawk towards the White House; suicide by F-15. Numb emptiness, desperation, a bottomless, writhing grief that shredded his heart. He had decided then to leave a trail of bodies in his wake first, only then would he join John.

"No, please... please, no."

Nik picked up his M9 and checked the magazine. "I count down; five, four..." He pulled back the pistol slide and turned the weapon first to the woman, who cowered, clutching her child's head to her chest.

"Please, she is just a child!"

"...three, two.."

"Wait! Wait! He's alive!"

Nik's finger lifted from the trigger just as he was about to pull it, settling along the barrel. He looked first to König, and then to Yegerov. "Repeat."

"He's alive... John Price," Yegerov said, almost hyperventilating. "Stop pointing that gun at my wife! I will tell you! Tell you everything. Please."

Nik hesitated. For the first time since this crusade had begun, he hesitated. He returned the M9 to the table and trudged back to his captive, both hands slamming down onto his broken wrists. "If you are lying to me, I will make you watch as I peel every inch of skin from your wife's body while she is still alive."

Yegerov swallowed. "On her life, he is alive. Prisoner 627. He is at a gulag in Petrovpavlosk. Please. He is alive. You can check using my... my passkey in our system. Do not kill my family. Mercy."

Nikolai looked at König who inclined his head, disappearing from the room to follow the lead. The two hostages sank against the wall, whimpering and shivering, and Nik straightened slowly. His fingers ghosted over John's hat, and then found his picture again. Hope was a dangerous thing and Nik resisted the heat of it burning in his chest. "Mercy is for those with a heart," Nikolai said. "You tore mine out the day you took him from me. Pray that we find him."

***

"This belongs to you, sir."

***

Price watched the drills in the parade square outside and wondered whether the drill sergeant noticed the trooper lagging slightly out of step in the third row.

The medics had cleared him to leave. There was a pamphlet about PTSD shoved in the side pocket of his bag, and he had weekly meetings with the base psychologist until they were happy he wasn't going to snap at the wrong moment. He wasn't sure what the road forward looked like, or how to even take the first step, but there was one person who he knew he wanted to be there when he did.

The door behind him opened and Price turned. The man that stood in the doorway was leaner than he remembered, his black hair cut in a military-short back and sides he hadn't seen for nearly a decade. Nikolai looked knackered, no better than Price did, which was understandable given what Price had been told.

Nik walked in tentatively, as if he felt like he was intruding, and that cut Price down to the quick. If there was one fuckin' person he had wanted to see all this time, it was the weary Russian pilot currently stood before him. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around Nik's broad chest and burying his face in his shoulder. Nik squeezed him back, just as desperate.

They held each other in the quiet, confirming, checking they weren't dreaming, until finally Price pulled away to study Nik's face. "Yer hair looks shit," he croaked.

Nik smiled, just as lopsided as Price remembered. "And your beard is bad."

"Least I had an excuse," Price said, scratching at the scruffy stubble on his jaw.

Nik's eyes saddened. "As did I." He lifted a hand and cupped Price's face, bringing their foreheads together. "My life ended when I lost you."

"Ya didn't lose me. Ya found me, didn'tcha? Tore the world to pieces, Simon said."

"My hands got dirty, John," Nik rasped.

"Dirty so that my men could stay clean.'

Nik lifted his face away, studying Price's eyes, looking for condemnation, anger, disgust. He would find none of it, Price was certain. All he felt in that moment was gratitude, relief, exhaustion.

"Laswell has agreed to waive my arrest warrant," Nik said, clearing his throat. "Under the agreement that I am to retire when we have defeated Makarov."

"Sounds fair. I've always thought ye'd make a good stay at home husband."

Nik looked startled, and Price leaned in to kiss the stupid look right off his face. Bewilderment broke into relieved laughter, and then eventually tears. Price held Nikolai's face to his shoulder as the sobs shuddered through his body.

"S'olright, I'm home."

[ssa-neeks-prentiss]

hello hello hello !!

a teeny tiny request for you (hopefully it's not much to deal with): reader seeing Spencer interact with the kids who come knocking for treats, he does a small little trick for them too

Or

reader with the team goes to catch an unsub hiding in an abandoned lab or hospital (maybe x aaron?)

honestly idk what I'm yapping about but here are some mediocre thoughts from my side

‹3

AN: Sorry for not being able to do the top ask, I started getting motivation a little too late- I also need a name for this series so tell me if you have any ideas :3

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Word Count : 1k

You stepped forward with your gun out. The team spread around you. You looked up at the large abandoned building in front of you. You let out an exasperated sigh as you finally noticed why the building was so large.

"An abandoned hospital. This sounds like it's straight out of a horror movie."

You muttered to no one in particular but they all heard and responded non verbally with grimaces. Frowning, you opened the door but winced as it opened with a loud creak.

"There goes our sneak attack."

Emily said to the team. You nodded in response. You agreed and you jogged forward, not caring about not making a sound anymore. The unsub had been alerted of your presence the moment you had opened that door.

Once all of the team was in the building, the door creaked shut, it was unsettling once it shut completely. As it was now dark and completely silent.

You crept through the hospital. You saw many things, but the thing that irked you the most was the fact the walls were void of graffiti. It was an obvious sign of something ahead. Especially since the place was obvious and not far from the main city.

The team split up and you were set with Aaron. The adrenaline rushing through your veins became more and more intense with each room you walked into. You came across many things, security cameras in tact and functioning, fully set up operating rooms, expensive equipment was still there.

"Something isn't right."

You muttered until you heard a bang and a loud scream. Both you and Aaron snapped up and ran to the sound of the scream. Panic made you run faster than you had before. Quicker than you thought was your limit.

You skidded to a halt as you rounded a corner but not before Aaron smashed into you due to your abrupt halt. You grabbed Aaron's hand and twisted sideways to avoid the knife that was being held out using some sort of contraption. You let out a quiet sigh of relief as you saw the rest of the team come from the other way. None of them would get hit by the knife. You sat up from where you were on the ground. Helping Aaron up, you dusted yourself off.

"This place is full of traps."

You muttered bitterly and Aaron gave you an apologetic look and you gave him a small smile in return. You trudged to the others.

"What did you find?"

Aaron asked them. Emily and JJ gave each other a look.

"We found a morgue."

You looked at them with a perplexed look, that was normal for a hospital like this. That was until JJ added onto Emily's statement.

"It was full of the missing people."

You paused. Oh. So this was where the unsub dumped the bodies. You turned to Rossi and Derek.

"Did you find anything?"

You asked the other two.

"We found.. Uh.. Organs."

Derek said with a tone of disgust. Your head snapped up in surprise.

"Where? Take me."

You asked and he nodded. The team followed behind you two.

Once you got there, you scanned the organs that were in the room.

"These are all the things that were 'wrong' with each person. The heart for heart problems. Lungs for asthma. The spine for back problems."

You listed off a few things. Until Aaron clicked it together.

"He was trying to fix them. Make them better. Take away what was bad and let them leave in perfect condition."

You nodded in agreement.

"Exactly."

You spun around at the unrecognizable voice. Your gun raised along with everyone elses. He held his hands up.

"I can go. I've saved all the people I need to."

At that Aaron nodded and Derek surged forward to snap handcuffs on the guy. They decided to go the way the guy came but before Derek could step forward with the guy you held a hand out and stopped them. You told everyone to go the other way and they did with only Aaron as an exception.

"Why did you tell them to go the other way."

Instead of answering properly you spoke instead.

"When I shout run. You run."

You waited for his nod and you grabbed something and threw it forward and the motion set something off as the place started to tick loudly.

"Run!"

You shouted as the two of you dashed out and got out of the hospital just in time to see the section of the building they were just in blow up. The two of you were slightly breathless from the running as the rest jogged to you both and bombarded you with questions.

"How did you know?"

You shrugged nonchalantly.

"He smirked and I noticed the motion sensors."

AARON'S POV

Aaron smiled slightly as the nonchalance reminded him of your daughter, Eleanor, he could tell that she got it from you. The smile was quickly wiped from his face as Rossi walked up to him with a knowing smirk.

Though you didnt notice that as you walked back to one of the vehicles, speaking with Emily.

He noticed a light red blushing on your cheeks as Emily teased you about something. You groaned as Emily laughed. Aaron didn't take notice of what Rossi was saying as he followed you.

He climbed into the drivers seat as you called shotgun and scrambled into the passenger seat. He smiled softly as you grinned and stuck your tongue out at Emily. You were a mix. You could be serious in times of need but also childish and light hearted. He admired that in you.

Emily grumbled and took the seat behind you and he held back a laugh as you gasped dramatically when Emily jokingly kicked your seat. You whipped around to glare at her but the smile that graced your face told him that you didn't mean it.

He turned the key as you begrudgingly turned around but not before giving Emily the middle finger.

Aaron enjoyed watching you interact with the team, he didn't know why but he did. It was nice. He enjoyed being with you overall but he didn't know why he felt a fluttering feeling with you. It confused him to no end but he didn't mind being confused if he got to spend time with you.

That was one of his favourite things to do and he could do it for hours.

[dilatorywriting]

I feel we are all super mean to the reader with Siren Vil??? Are they actually stupid or is it just that they can’t understand what’s going on? Which is kinda valid considering their situation?

I mean it has to be hard for them, right? Not only do they have trouble communicating with THEIR world since they are almost 100% deaf, but then you have the extreme cultural differences of trying to communicate with someone who exists in what is basically from a completely DIFFERENT world (part of your world reference anyone?).

I just feel like, while they may not be a genius or anything, it’s kind of mean to be expecting them to know what’s going on when they have so much working against them. We’re calling them stupid for not understanding that the necklace was a courting gift and that the siren would come back for them… why would they think that?

They could tell the necklace meant more to the siren than they thought it should have and it made the siren more friendly, but why would that equate to what is basically marriage and never leaving them behind? And the reader knows the siren wants to get back to his pod really badly. While they became friends and got attached, that wouldn’t mean he would come back to help the reader. Of course the reader is going to see a ship and try to get off of where they were marooned.

As dumb as the reader CAN be sometimes (like when they took a bite of the cooked crab without removing its shell 🤦‍♀️) I really don’t think they’re THAT stupid. They’re just… on the level of someone who was probably an uneducated kid when they snuck aboard a pirate ship and never looked back and now they’re an adult. You mentioned in one chapter I believe that Riddle taught them to read I think? Or something?

I LOVE this story, don’t get me wrong. At all. Ever. I adore it.

The fact that I’m even here hanging out on the author’s blog shows how much I love it - and your other writing. I guess it’s just been getting to me a little how we all seem to slam Siren Vil’s reader so much. Maybe I’m just making mountains out of molehills. Maybe you’re just being sarcastic and I’m missing the cues because I’m neurodivergent and I do that sometimes. If so I’m sorry.

To end on a good note, I’m really happy you’re back and are doing better. I know how much brains can suck. If your demons are too mean to you, just send Reaper Rook after them. He’ll take care of them for you, I’m sure of it! 💚🖤

I think it’s mostly said out of love, like how when you pick up a cat to give it cuddles and call it a stinky lil garbage gremlin even though you would die for that creature. The Reader in this is someone I try to write as having inconsistent levels of intelligence. Great planner, great at setting goals and reaching them, but TERRIBLE emotional intelligence all around. Not just in Siren Language. Just overall is blind to a lot going on around them. And yes, the added layer of communication difficulties certainly don’t help, but this is a reader I fully see as one who even *if* they had super sight, hearing, and intellect would still be missing the point of things simply because they’re stubborn in their perception and lock onto that One Thing rather than being willing to see the bigger picture. Even when the evidence is staring them right in the face. Which is why we lovingly call them a big ol doofus.

[sincerely-sofie]

Sofie Plays Cult of the Lamb but She Writes out a Play-by-Play instead of Recording Anything: Part 1

Obby was hanging out with me for this one!

Still dying laughing over the fact that the only follower I can bully is the follower my beloved boyfriend made.

Unlocked Knucklebones. Won against Ratau at 60-35 points. Immediately started getting really excited about destroying Narinder in this game once I indoctrinate him and Obby gently broke the news that Ratau is bad at the game.

New headcanon unlocked: Ratau goes easy on the Lamb whenever playing together.

Clicked manually to collect each individual piece of divine inspiration and Obby almost exploded.

Me: Aw man, I forgot I have to sacrifice someone :< Obby: *Grabbing the sides of his webcam* ME ME ME KILL ME

Legitimately started discussing with Obby how to sacrifice his birdman avatar in the most cost-effective manner.

Questing to get an outhouse and still haven't unlocked it. Tragic.

OBBY LEFT TO GRAB DINNER AND PUT ON A SUBWAY SURFERS GAMEPLAY VIDEO WHILE HE WAS GONE "SO (I) WOULDN'T GET BORED"

Jooryn seems to be becoming friends with Amdusias. This feels thematically relevant.

ENTERED DARKWOOD TO FINALLY GO ON A CRUSADE AFTER BLESSING ALL MY FOLLOWERS AND GOT HECKIN LESHY'D. I HATE THIS FOREST

I'm a pro gamer. Trust me.

Obby slowly added onto the Subway Surfers gameplay video overlay a Family Guy clip compilation overlay, an overlay of PMD: EoS gameplay, and an overlay of a video explaining the functions of ADHD. Meanwhile, I was spinning heart emojis around his face in my head.

The enemies Leshy keeps summoning know how to dodge roll. Meanwhile I can't even remember how to summon curses for longer than two seconds. Good thing spamming Attack will definitely always work for me!

Obby: I knew you'd like that guy! Me: "Like" is a strong word.

Entered Leshy's boss fight and watched the opening cutscene while having this exchange:

Me: Ohhh he has fuzzy legs!!! (Leshy transforms into his boss form) Obby: He no longer has fuzzy legs :(

Just got our first elderly follower! I immediately ascended him. Sorry Artre, you looked too much like Sonic the Hedgehog.

Heket woke up and chose violence! Girl same!

@billycorn OH NO

I survived the miniboss fight :) I did great :)

Follower Obby just lives for the bit, huh

First follower romance! Nomre, the first follower to join the cult, was proposed to by Gusion. Cute!

SICK JOOTY!!!!

Unlocked the Silk Cradle and Anchordeep because Nomre wasn't happy with the flowers Gusion proposed with, and now I need beets and cauliflower in the next three days to help move things along.

@onlyhereforghosttrick I'm so sorry. This seems to be what happens when you're only here for Ghost Trick in Cult of the Lamb.

WHY DO THE BISHOPS ALL HAVE IT OUT FOR BILLYCORN

Spent an unholy amount of time delving through the Silk Cradle and Anchordeep looking for beets and cauliflower. I almost ended up unlocking Shamura's boss fight in the hunt. Kallamar got his cowardly reputation when he saw me raging through his domain in search of cauliflower and only growing more powerful and furious the longer I went without finding it.

Anyhoo. Got beet seeds and some cauliflower eventually :3

[cas-readsandwrites]

Lavender: Interludes

Set in Jackson post TLOU S1 in the Lavender universe by @justagalwhowrites, a few little scenes of Joel, Doc, and the fam in Jackson. Listen I am not pregnant, I have no desire to be pregnant, so I don't know WHERE this came from, but I love soft Joel healing from his trauma and finding love and joy in his family! Content: Reader is described as pregnant. There is smut. And fluff. And love. Grab some ice cream and your heating pads if you're in the same time of the month as me. Minors DNI. 3.6k words

I am not quiet about the fact that Lavender is one of my favorite fanfics, in my two decades popping in and out of various fandoms. Doc and Joel are my distraction and angst and comfort when I need it. Sometimes my imagination runs a little wild.... many many thanks to Kit for creating these characters and being totally cool with the fact that I wrote a little fanfic of her fanfic :D So here we go!

~~~

Joel had walked into the house late one evening, after patrol had gone long and he had to wait to give report to the next crew going out. He was extra antsy and wanted to get home, now more than ever. This was his last patrol for the next several months, as he would not need to leave the walls of the town during the last month of your pregnancy and hopefully not for a month or two afterwards. He would be put on extra shifts on guard duty or with the carpenter crew, but as long as he was within a quick run down the street or an ear-shot of someone yelling for him with news of you, he was fine with that. 

Anyway, when he had come home, you had been standing in the middle of the living room, seemingly all the sheets and blankets from the house around you and stacked in a laundry basket at the bottom of the stairs. All of the glasses and mugs were sitting out drying on the counter, as well as the few baby bottles you had brought home from the clinic (just in case you had said, hopeful that you would be able to breastfeed). All of the lights were still on upstairs. 

“Baby,” he said, matter-of-factly, “what the hell are you doin’?”

You spun around, holding a fitted sheet in your hands, fresh from the laundry line outside. The town was encouraged to use the communal laundry whenever possible, to limit wear and tear on the machines in the houses, but understandably many families had middle-of-the-night unexpected messes or heavy loads that they would do at home if the mechanicals still worked. The dryer in their house was still inconsistent, as much as Joel took it apart and banged on it and put it back together, it gave them a few good spins before shuddering to a halt again. Thankfully Tommy and Maria’s across the street was still functional, adding to the growing list of ways that he felt like he was in… well, a commune, with his brother as their lives and households continually overlapped, something he suspected would only increase after the baby was born.

“I think I’m nesting,” you answered back, looking around at the piles of fabric and wiggling your fingers in the sheets. “It seemed like a good idea to have all the linens clean, and then I was hand-washing some things in the kitchen, so it seemed like a good idea to clean off some of the dishes and things we haven’t really used, they were kind of dusty and I didn’t want it getting in the bottles…” you trailed off and sighed. “Ok, it looks ridiculous, but trust me, it needed to be done!” 

Joel wasn’t about to fight you on that, as much as he worried about your health and safety in what he viewed as an extra-fragile state, it seemed like you had come even more alive with an extra vivacity throughout your pregnancy. Even when you were throwing up, or cranky with hormones, you were even more feisty. Which was saying something, considering all the times you had verbally sparred back in Boston, along the road to Jackson, even back when you were taking care of yourself and your grandmother all alone. “Ok, well… can I help you?” he asked. “Seems like you got it in hand, but please don’t tell me you’ve been carrying laundry around all day.” 

You waved your hands again, corners of the sheet scrunching around your fingers. “Ellie put up with me for a while and did the heavy lifting with the wet things. She wanted to go out for the evening, though, so it’s just been me and the folded piles tonight.” You looked around as you tucked the corners across and into each other, neatly snapping the sheet and folding the edges in. “I guess if you can take these all back up into the closet upstairs, then it will be mostly done.” 

You looked around at the folded pile in the basket, mentally cataloguing your task, before seeming to snap out of it and look back at him. “But you just got home! I’m so sorry, blame my brain for being wired towards this.” You waded through the piles and threw yourself into his arms, even with your stomach grown with his baby, still fitting in just right where he could wrap around your shoulders and your back and you could lean into that space against his chest. Joel ran his hand up and down your back, around your side, warm palm against the place where your child grew. You hummed as he kissed the top of your head, centering himself as he always did when coming home on your scent and the warm gravity of you in his arms. 

“Why don’t you go up to bed?” he murmured against your temple. “I’ll get the rest of this. You’ve been on your feet a lot. Please go lay down? I’d love to just… be with you tonight.” You nodded, tipping your head back to kiss him. He anchored himself to you, the press of your lips against his. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” you said, squeezing him again before stepping away and looking around at the living room before walking upstairs.

They had been in this house for several months, well-established in Jackson, but he couldn’t shake the nighttime routines yet, circling the first floor of the house, checking that the exits were clear, locked, lights off, locking his rifle in the downstairs closet, keeping his sidearm in the nightstand next to his side of the bed. He heard you moving around the bathroom and treading the hallway into the bedroom. Thankfully, Ellie came home not too soon after as he was finished folding. She shrugged and tilted her head with an eyebrow raised in a nonverbal I don’t know, man, it wasn’t my idea. He handed her the basket and wordlessly gestured up the stairs. She just as silently tilted her forehead against his arm as she passed in a greeting and good-night, and they trooped up the stairs together. “Good night, Ellie!” he heard you call across the hall.

He showered, washing off the road and sweat, before climbing in bed behind you, already nested in your structure of pillows. “Mmmf,” you murmured, nestling back into his chest. He traced the line of the back of your neck with one hand and looped his arm around your front, resting on your stomach. You traced the back of his hand with your fingers in the dark. It didn’t seem to take much, even at this stage in your pregnancy, and soon you were bringing his hand below the slope of your stomach to that place between your legs that seemed so much more sensitive nowadays. 

“Baby,” he murmured in your ear, “you gonna be ok? Don’t want to hurt you…”

You moaned quietly as his fingertips traced your clit, leading down to your center, tracing your entrance and just dipping inside. You gasped and tilted your hips, moving your leg to open that space for him. “Please, Joel,” you breathed, trying to be quiet, mindful of Ellie down the hall. “I trust you, I know you won’t hurt me, I want to feel you, please…”

He kissed the space below your ear, the scratch of his beard tickling the back of your shoulder. “Don’t gotta beg for me, sweetheart, always gonna give you what you need.”

Urged by your own hand, he felt the wetness from your entrance already, dipping his fingers in to coat them, coming back to your clit, warm and aching. It didn’t take long for the pressure from his fingers, alternating between circling and lightly pressing on your sensitive areas, before he felt you throbbing, heard your tiny gasps as you tugged on the corner of your pillow, thrusting your hips back into his as he brought you to your edge. Even after months of your reassurance that you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, had never done so, and you still obviously wanted him, he waited for your cues. He tried to ignore his hardening cock, but your thrust backwards had nestled him into the soft flesh of your ass, so warm and delightfully more from pregnancy, and he couldn't help as he rocked against you. Even as you came down, you pushed his hand back towards your center, hitching your top leg up to rest on his, reaching behind for his hip, holding him close.

He ran his hand down your leg, gripping your thigh against him as he moved to push himself against you, the heat and wetness from your center drawing him in. He lined the tip of him with your center, your body grasping to pull him in, as if promises over decades and the proof of your love growing inside you weren’t enough. He stopped only long enough to ask, “this ok, baby? You feel alright?” 

You whimpered, tilting your head back towards him, and he ran his nose along what he could reach of your jaw, kissing the side of your neck, breathing against the edge of your ear. “Feels so good, please, don’t stop,” you whispered, rocking just so the tip of him slid in. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of you around him, pressed against him, as he slid inside you from behind. You bit your lip to stop from crying out, rocking back into him with abandon. He had to focus to stop from coming immediately - how could he not, the softness of the most round, plush parts of you pressed against his body and in his hands, your warmth even more enveloping. He focused instead on the lines of your body, kissing your shoulder, gripping your hip as he thrust in and out, syncing with the rocking of your hips. His hand slipped around your front to the top of your legs again, circling and rubbing against your clit. You were so lost in your pleasure, grasping at the blanket in front of you, and he wanted this to last as long as you needed. Unable to see your face or kiss you, giving himself into your body wherever you would take him, he used his words instead, punctuated by his own groans and pleasure. Words of praise and promise, your beauty, the sensation of your body, goddess that you were, holding both himself and your child together deep inside yourself. 

-finally, “oh, fuck, there you go baby, I can feel you, so ready, come on-” and you turned your face down into your pillow, breathing heavily, as your body fairly shook with your orgasm, clenching and rippling around him, and he held on tight and rode it out with you, thrusting up once, twice, one more time until he felt himself come apart deeply and at home in your body. 

The two of you lay together in the tangle of blankets and blankets, now kicked down around your legs and askew around you, his chest heaving with deep breaths against yours. He felt you melt into the mattress. After a moment he checked himself, not wanting you to need to move, and cautiously lifted an arm to brace himself against the mattress. You made a little noise and tilted your head back against him again. He reach in front of you and sat partway up, leaning over you to kiss you at an angle, reassuring you, and himself that you were still alright, that he hadn’t hurt you or pushed you too much in some way that he would have no way of knowing about, his memories of the only other pregnant woman in his life so far distant and embroiled in its own tinge of sadness and self-doubt that none of it was to be trusted. Only you, here, your daughter for all intents and purposes down the hall, the solidity of this house, was what he could count on. 

He kissed you again and nuzzled against your forehead. “Lay down, baby, I got you. Need anything?” he felt you shake your head and settled against your pillow. He smiled. You often had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep as you advanced in your pregnancy, but something about the release of sex would turn you into goo and put you to sleep afterwards almost right away. 

He carefully sat all the way up, leaning over you to reset your pillows where you liked them, against the pressure of your knees, hips and belly supported against the mattress, under your arm, one against the small of your back. When you were tucked in and covered, he quietly stepped down the hall to fill your glass of water and set it down next to you, checking again the lights outside and the door to Ellie’s room, before sliding carefully back in behind you. Not able to get as close through your fortress of pillows, he rested an arm along your hip, breathing in the scent of your hair that always seemed to end up draped across his pillow.

He heard you sigh and shuffle, and was about to ask what else you needed, before you spoke quietly, through the cloud of sleep he knew was almost ready to carry you off. “I love you,” you murmured into the soft darkness of the bedroom. He leaned his head forward, resting his forehead on the space between your shoulderblades, just behind your heart. “Love you so much, baby,” he whispered, squeezing your hip, before sleep claimed you both. 

~~~

Joel and Tommy watched as you and Maria talked in the living room of Tommy and Maria’s house after dinner, while they stood in the doorway of the kitchen drinking whiskey, judiciously keeping the scent of alcohol away from your pregnant self and Maria’s breastfeeding. Well, Tommy was watching Joel as Joel watched you shuffle on the couch, gently positioning yourself to rest your lower back. “She doin’ ok?” Tommy asked, trying to catch Joel’s eye. 

Joel glanced over at his brother like he was unaware they were even in a conversation together. “Oh- yeah. She said her legs and back are starting to get real tired. Tried telling her to rest more, but you know her, says moving is actually better and she doesn’t want to leave the clinic yet.”

Tommy nodded, knowing this brand of his sister-in-law’s stubbornness and resilient streak. “You ever try doin’ the thing where you stand behind her and lift up her stomach?”

Now Joel was really looking at his brother. “What?” he asked. They didn’t really… talk girls. Joel did his best when Tommy was growing up to have The Talk (that went pretty well, living embodiment of the consequences of Joel’s actions usually screaming in her high chair in the background of those conversations when Tommy would be headed out the door to pick up yet another date) as well as trying to make sure his brother was generally a respectful and polite person to a partner, but other than that, they didn’t really talk about the ins and outs of each other’s relationships. Until you. Even way back when, yours and Joel’s relationship had been more real, more recognized, tangible, than most other things in his life.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, “you know, like you’re gonna hug her from behind or somethin?” He demonstrated in the air in front of him. “Get your arms around her and under her stomach, towards the bottom, where Maria always said was the most sore because it was heavy, stretching out some muscles, and just-” he linked his fingers together, glass carefully balanced in one bear-paw of a hand- “hup.” He demonstrated gently lifting a beach ball in front of him.

Joel watched his brother looking like he was trying to hula hoop in the middle of his kitchen. “Sure it doesn’t hurt her?” Tommy laughed and patted his brother on his arm. “Be gentle, man. Naw, Maria loved it. Would have walked around behind her for the whole last month for her if I could’ve.” Joel nodded, regretting already the time he missed in his brother’s life, refusing to accept his new marriage to Maria, blocking out the thoughts of his brother becoming a father, when all his brother had done for him was to step into Joel’s own life and take on Joel’s burdens as his own. By the time Joel and his girls had made it back to Jackson, several months had passed and Maria had already given birth. 

Tommy patted his arm again. “She knows you’d do anything for her. Maria and I will, too. Need a babysitter or an extra hand when it’s time, just holler.” He gestured with his glass towards their window that overlooked the street, across which your home with Joel was softly illuminated by the front door light, waiting for you to come home. You caught Tommy’s movement out of the corner of your eye, looking up and smiling at your husband and your brother-in-law together again, as they should be.

The next day, you were walking slowly around the house while getting ready for a shift at the clinic. You were still the only doctor in town, though they had gained a few additional staff that, while not quite trained as well as you’d hoped nurses would be, were improving as medical assistants and able to triage and take histories and help with physical exams. One of the more senior nurses who had been in town for a while had taken on the heavier medical work before you had arrived. She had taken to your education and you had recently “graduated” her from your unofficial training and dubbed her a nurse practitioner, only needing to sign off with you on certain types of cases. The extra help meant that at least you could sit more and slow your pace to see a few less patients, but for now you said your brain and your energy were fine, and you weren’t going to let a few bodyaches get in the way of being present for the people who needed the knowledge that only you had. 

Joel watched as you stood in front of your dresser, choosing which top to go over your precious few pairs of pants they had found to be modified with a maternity band. You sighed and rested your hands on the small of your back, leaning just so, trying to stretch - well, everything. 

Joel begrudgingly remembered his brother’s words, knowing he was going to be eating shit for a while, Tommy being more of an expert in the “pregnancy and infancy caregiver in the apocalypse” duties. Joel still had him beat in the teenager department at least. For now, though, he walked up behind you to kiss your temple, slipping his arms around you as he often did to trace the contours of your body, holding your hips or placing a palm to feel the baby.

“Wish you would call it at the clinic, baby, I really do,” he murmured. 

“I know,” you sighed, “not yet, though. My mind feels fine. I’m taking it as easy as I can there, I promise, and you know I’m in the right place if I need anything.” You looked down at his hands gently circling your stomach. “I know by now it’s useless to ask you to not worry, but please, take it easy on yourself, too,” you said, placing your hand on his.

Joel wanted to bury his face in your hair, carry you to bed, hold on to you and rub your feet and bring you tea for the next four weeks. He didn’t deserve you, mindful as you were towards his worries and the health of the entire town. “You’re askin’ for the impossible, babe, you know that.” 

You laughed lightly. “I know. I can try. At least I didn’t leverage doctor’s orders this time.” You tilted your head back, resting on his chest. “I’ll take a few more days, keep making some plans with the staff, and see how I feel later this week. ‘kay?”

“ ‘kay,” he echoed. You moved to step forward and reach for a dresser drawer again, but Joel followed and gently tugged you back against him. You opened your mouth to softly protest - you did need to get moving, after all - but Joel slid his hands firmly under your stomach, warm and sturdy, and without even realizing what was happening, you felt the pressure in his hands increase and a blessed lightness spread across the top of your hips and your pelvic muscles. 

Joel leaned back just slightly, the weight of your belly in his hands, and he heard you make a noise he had never even heard you make in bed. “Oh God,” you groaned, drawing it out in a soft sigh. “I didn't even realize how much that- please don't move, I just want to stay-” you let your arms drop, thoughts of a shirt vanishing as you let yourself be cradled in this temporary, bodily gravity defying relief. 

Joel wanted to chuckle at your words, but the deep instinct to simultaneously protect you while bringing you so close, around him, be inside you, kicked up again. He could only rest his forehead on the crown of your head, remind himself that you were here and whole and healthy, and marvel at your innate strength and abundant spirit to allow your body to be changed for him and for your family. He would always strive to be worthy of you, he knew that now. For now, that meant standing quietly in your home together, swaying gently, holding you and your child, your whole universe in his hands.

[adobe-outdesign]

Best and Worst Jelly Neopets? If this has been asked before, Apologies!

Jelly would be a hypothetical tie-in colour to Jelly World, if Jelly World existed (which it doesn't). It's kind of one of those weird niche colours that only makes sense in the context of Neopets, with there already being a huge amount of jelly items available on the site.

As for the colour itself, the designs are pretty standardized across the board—the pets are rendered to look like jelly and given a semi-transparent look, though the "flavor" (color) of the jelly can vary. Part of me wonders if more could been done with it—like, you could have pieces of fruit in there, change up markings and round off pointy fur to look more jelly-esq., have whipped cream accents, etc.—but I do appreciate the consistency, with the colors adding just enough individuality per pet.

This color is a Lab Ray exclusive (unless you count the Rainbow Fountain, which I don't). While getting Lab-exclusive colours is always a pain, it does at least make sense here given the somewhat odd nature of the colour to begin with.

This color should've been unaffected by customization, as it wasn't very dependent on poses. However, for some reason a lot of of the converted Jelly pets have less shading and transparency effects compared to the originals for reasons I can't hope to understand. There are plenty of good-looking post-customization Jelly pets out there; it's just the ones that got converted that seemed to get the short end of the stick. Thankfully, pet styles do exist.

Favorite Species:

Chomby: A tasty green lime color, the Jelly Chomby has some nice highlights to it that give it that all-important jelly texture along with a subtle bit of transparency. While the converted is fine, the UC/styled version is extra nice—the shading, highlights, and transparency are even more pronounced, which really gives it a good sense of depth. This is also helped by the fact that pre-conversion Chombies were just kind of lumpy to begin with.

Kiko: There's nothing all that special about this Jelly pet specifically I suppose, but I really like the light orange shade used here. Once again, the shading and highlights are very well done, and the transparency gives the body a really good sense of depth in areas like the arms. There's a tiny bit of tone variation in there, not enough to make it look un-jelly like but enough to give it a little bit of contrast.

Chia: You could argue with this one that it's a missed opportunity—considering all the fruity Chia colours, it definitely feels like this could've been done as a giant jello mold or something instead of just being the usual fair. That said, the rendering here is really good—subtle gradients are used along with a bit of transparency and layering at the bottom to make this thing look very jelly-like, and I love little details like the air bubbles. Only complaint is that the tongue is way too normal-looking.

Least Favorite Species:

Quiggle: I am giving this one the coveted dung award solely because it has regular non-Jelly eyes and that disturbs me. Also, while the UC/styled version has some decent enough transparency, the converted version's shading makes it look like rock-hard candy.

[yelenasdiary]

Can I request a Carol Danvers x sister reader please where R lives a normal life on earth but is constantly worried and missing Carol? Carol comes back during the snap era of Earth and finds R, but r is a bit cold as she thinks Carol doesn't care about her. Angst at the start but then they slowly rebuild their sisterly bond?

Shooting Stars

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Sister! Reader

Summary: When the whole world is turned upside down, your sister was the last person you expected to see.

Angst & Comfort

Warnings: Fear of Abandonment, Mentions of family ‘death’ | 2K

AC: I’m not 100% confident on the history of Carol and her family so please forgive me for any mistakes. Thank you for sending this & I hope you enjoy! x

The snap wasn’t easy for anybody, especially those who had lost a friend or family member to Thano’s actions. It had only been a week since you realized that your mother, father and older brother had fallen victims to the snap, leaving you on earth alone to continue life in a new form. You were the youngest of three, Steve was the eldest and then came your older sister, Carol and then came you. 

Growing up you had a close bond with Carol, the two of you did almost everything together. Wherever Carol was, there you were right by her side. You adored your older sister; she was everything to you, you loved her drive to do whatever she wanted, you were there for her when she joined the air force but then she left.

Since then, things between you and Carol were never the same. She spent more and more time in space and communication between you both got quieter as the weeks turned to months and eventually you just accepted the fact that Carol had found a better place to be, a better family. 

Steve was at work when the snap took him, your mother was out having coffee with her closet friend and your father was on his way to work. You reached out to Carol, leaving her a message to let her know that your parents and brother were victims of Thanos, you didn’t expect a reply, it had been months since you last heard from her. 

The afternoon sun kissed the living room of your family home, trying to watch a movie to pass the quietness of your home, you closed the blinds before you heard the sounds of an aircraft landing out the front. You knew who it was, you just didn’t care to greet her. Instead, you returned to the sofa and did your best to bring your focus back to the movie you were halfway through. 

Carol opened the front door, letting herself in like she normally would. Her footsteps could be heard making their way to the living room before you looked over your shoulder and laid eyes on her. One look at you and she knew it would take a bit for you to talk to her, after all, she knew you better than anybody else, so she thought. 

“Girls Trip, that’s a good movie” her voice spoke over the movie. 

“Yeah” you mumbled, not even thinking about pausing the movie to give her any more of your attention. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Carol took a seat in the armchair that your father claimed as his. You looked over to her, “I’d rather you not sit there” you said, “you know he didn’t like us sitting in his chair” you added.

“Well, I guess he isn’t here to tell me off” Carol replied, jokingly in hopes it would break the ice. 

“I’m glad you think the death of our father is funny” you shook your head before turning the tv off, “what do you want Carol?” You turned to her. 

“I came here for you” she admitted. 

“I’m doing just fine” you sighed. 

Carol’s eyes dropped slightly, “you’re mad at me” 

“Of course I’m mad at you!” You snapped, “you haven’t been here! I know what you do is important, and this isn’t your fault, but it’s been a week Carol, a damn week! And now you want to come here for me? You didn’t even reply to my message to me know that you were okay so yeah, excuse me for not exactly being the happiest to see you” 

Carol watched as you wandered off to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. With your little outburst, it gave Carol a bit of an idea on where your emotions were at. She knew she hadn’t been the best sister to you or Steve in recent years, she knew she had to do better.

----

Carol didn’t leave that night, the next morning, you woke up to the smell of bacon sizzling on the stove. It reminded you of how your mother would make your father breakfast each morning before he would leave for work, you were a student studying from home to become an architect so your mother would always whip you up a quick breakfast for when you awoke. 

“I hope you’re hungry” Carol smiled softly, flipping a slice of bacon when she heard you enter the kitchen. 

“I’m a vegetarian” you replied, opening the fridge to grab the fresh strawberries you had brought yesterday. 

“I knew that” Carol said more so to herself, “I suppose you won’t eat the eggs then?” She asked. 

“Not since you’ve cooked them in the same pan as the bacon and besides, I had eggs yesterday” you replied before wandering outside to the back patio. Carol sighed, the last time she saw you, you mentioned that you had decided to go vegetarian, but it slipped her mind. She finished cooking breakfast and turned the stove off. 

That afternoon, a little after lunch, you had gotten yourself ready to go for a small jog around the neighborhood when Carol asked if she could join you. 

“If you want, but I’m not slowly down if you can’t keep up” you replied, tying your shoelaces. Your cold bluntness towards her was starting to really bother her. “Can we talk first?” She asked, seeing you roll your eyes at her request. 

“What do you want to talk about, Carol?” You asked, sitting back in the sofa, looking up at her. 

Carol wasn’t exactly expecting you to respond the way you did, putting her slightly off guard. She wasn’t sure where to start or what to say that would make up for her absence. She took a seat next to you before breaking the silence, “I’m sorry” she said softly but clearly. 

“You’re sorry? Okay, cool, are we done?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Carol shook her head, “no, I want to make sure you’re okay” 

“Okay? Carol, you don’t understand. I’m not just mad at you for waiting a week to come home, I’m mad because you abandoned me. You left. You left us, your family and went off into space and found a better place to be. You don’t talk to me anymore; it seems like you don’t even want to know how we are doing or anything. You picked your new family and it fucking hurts. I looked up to you, I would stay up all night worrying about you! Every shooting star I saw, I wondered if you saw it too. 

Steve moved out and is living is own life, but he comes home to visit, and I go to visit him. I can’t just get up and fly into space to see you whenever I miss you or just want to bitch to my sister about life. I lost mom, dad and Steve but I lost you long before I lost them” tears filled your eyes as you struggled to maintain eye contact with your older sister. 

“Sorry doesn’t just fix this Carol. Sorry means nothing to me. I want my sister back; I want my sister who would make me laugh when I had a bad day, I want my sister who would tell me all about aircrafts and what you liked most about them, I miss when you would take me out for ice cream just because we were bored, I miss talk to you, I miss tell you all about my day and asking you for advice. I miss my sister. You’re just Carol to me now” you added, tears now streaming down your face. You hated getting emotional, before Carol had a chance to say a word, you stood up and wiped your tears. 

“Just give me some space” you said softly before going for your jog, leaving Carol to drown in her thoughts and guilt for the way she had made you feel. 

----

Later that night, you were catching up on some study when you took a break to get yourself a drink. The house was quiet, but the lights were left on, Carol was nowhere to be seen. You sighed, assuming that she had taken the easy way and left back to her new home but just as you grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge, you heard the front door close. 

“Oh good, you’re out of your room” Carol smiled, placing a paper bag of goods on the counter, “you need to put some air in your tires, they’re getting flat” she added. 

“W-what, I mean, where did you go?” You asked, confused. 

“I went out and got us some movies, old school on DVD of course. Did you know long I had to drive to find a store that rents out movies? I gave up and just brought these” she replied, pulling out a pile of 6 DVD’s and placing them beside the bag. From what you could see it was a mix of comedy and action movies, not surprisingly as the two of you loved watching those as children. 

“Then I stopped at the store and got some ice cream, I know it’s not the same as going out to get it but figured there’s no harm in having a tub each, right?” She added. You gave her little to know reaction, just a soft smile and nod as you watched her unload snacks and the ice cream from the brown paper bag. 

She turned to you, “I know I’ve hurt you; I know words won’t do anything to fix what I’ve broken but I need you to know that I never abandoned you, I thought about you every single day, I don’t have an excuse for what I’ve done but I can’t learn from my mistakes if you don’t let me try” 

Your eyes dropped to the pile of DVDs on the counter, “we are not watching pearl harbour” you replied, “and I’m taking the strawberry ice cream” you smiled softly which caused Carol to also smile. You grabbed a spoon from the drawer, took the ice cream tub and waited in the living room for Carol to join you. It would take some time for things to be rebuilt again between you both but as much as you were upset with Carol, you knew deep down you can’t stay mad at her forever. 

----

Carol stayed with you for months, only ever going back to space twice a week to make sure things were still in order but she made it clear that her top priority was being there for you. Sometimes you even went with her to space, where she showed you around her place. She had childhood photos of you and her hung up in her living room which made you smile softly to yourself, maybe you were a little too harsh on your sister after all, she was always trying to keep the world safe. 

“What are you working on?” You asked Carol who was under her aircraft in her green overalls that your mother had left hanging up in Carol’s childhood wardrobe. 

“Just making sure everything is okay with the oil and tighten bots, can you hand me the wrench?” She asked. You lent down and picked up the silver wrench and handed it to her. “Can I help with anything?” You offered, remembering when you were younger and Carol would teach you things about the engine and let you help her out whenever there was something mechanically wrong. 

“Actually, yeah! If you wanna come under here and hold this piece of metal in place for me, that would be really helpful!” Carol replied. 

“Lemme go get changed first” you said, seeing as you didn’t want to ruin your clothes.

Carol, under the aircraft smiled to herself while she waited for you to return, she also missed having her sister around to do things with. One day at a time, the sisterly bond you and Carol once had returned, only stronger.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

[charli3emily]

A deep dive into the character of Ralph🐚

It is directly stated in chapter 4 that Ralph was one of the most comfortable about being on the island and his earlier actions shows thisThe only time he was show to feel worried was when he was forced to face reality(mulberry boys death,the war,getting rescued,ect). We also know that his life before the island had likley been falling apart. His mother was gone for some reason(as yk i hc her as dead which is the most common theory) and the war had gotten to a point where he needed to return to the Navy leaving him alone. He was in a new school(the boarding school which is all brought up in chapter 7) and likely shortly after the war has gotten to a point where they needed to be sent of to saftey. Those itself would be incredibly stressful for any kid of his age but adding in all of the previous changes it would be too much for anyone to deal with. So when he survived a crash and ended up in this paradise like place(which he likely had already dreamed of or loved in some way due to his original intrest of coral island which was brought back in that graphic novel) this would almost feel like an escape from the harsh reality he has been living in for atleast a few months. This would explaine why is reaction why his initial reaction came off as so odd. He was exited because he finally got an escapeHe also then gained a position of leadership(similar to his father who he is show to look up to) and a friend(Jack) taht he was finally able to get close too(Ralph is highly implied to move around as a child which would make making and keeping friends very difficult). Ralph loved the island so much because it was the first real escape he had. And having to accept reality took this feeling of stability away and forced him to accept that things where it good. We also know that this wild nature was somthing he had previously loved. In chapter 10 he brings up his last home again and how he loved the wild nature(which at that point he no longer loved) so the island would be even more enjoyable. When piggy once again mentioned rescue in chapter 4 and immediately after Ralph saw the boat he was still in the ehad space of dealing wirh reality which explains why he reacted so strongly. And of course the fact that he wa sthe cheif and it felt like his responsibility .This also makes the island falling apart even sadder because it was the only good thing he had left and it was stolen in 6 days with a weight that fell directly on his shoulder. And in the end he is confront with reality for the last time when the naval officer reprimand him for not doing enough to keep things in order despite him doing all taht he good in teh situation he was put in. And we know that war was still clearly going on(chapter 6 with the dead parachutes) so he was also forced to go back to that grim reality after the book concluded. Thsi would be 100 times worse if the original cannon of the nuclear bomb destroying London was still cannon.

If anyone chose to fully read this thank you

[dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd]

Graven Hearts

After being unofficially banished from the Mourn Watch, rebellious Lisbette must recruit one of her former professors, Emmrich Volkarin, to help her defeat two ancient Elvhen gods. Hurt that her favourite professor never stood up for her when she needed him, Lisbette takes delight in provoking the handsome, silver-haired necromancer, perhaps enjoying herself a little too much.

Female Rook | Age Difference | Daddy vibes | low key bratting | Hurt/Comfort | Eventual Smut

Start with Chapter One

Chapter Two

Lisbette can’t sleep that night. She tosses and turns for a long time, before finally sitting up and glaring at the wall. Emmrich Volkarin is just through that wall, no doubt sleeping soundly. He probably wears striped pajamas and one of those long, tapering night caps over his perfect silver hair. 

Her lips twitch as she imagines it. What would he look like if she went in there and got into bed with him? Scandalised, no doubt. His nightcap might fall off. 

She sighs and flops onto her back. As amusing as it is to think about, she’d gotten carried away earlier that afternoon. She didn’t want to make the professor angry with her, or make him uncomfortable. She should have welcomed him to the Lighthouse, but instead anger had hijacked her mouth and she’d said and done all...that.

Lisbette couldn’t understand why. Probably it was a mixture of her anger and hurt toward the Mourn Watch and the fact that she’d always found Professor Volkarin to be particularly handsome and charming. Poking at him, teasing him, making him glower at her. It was better that he was angry with her than pity her. She doesn’t want his apologies for how the Mourn Watch treated her. If he tries to apologise, she thinks she might scream, or sob, or both. 

She reaches for his book, Alvarus’ Treatise on the Undead , and reads a few passages, idly turning the pages. She’s never read it, but the content is painfully familiar. It feels like her childhood. It feels like home. She ends up with the book clutched against her chest with both arms wrapped around it, her eyes closed against the tears that threaten to fall. 

She doesn’t miss the Mourn Watch. 

All right, maybe she does, deep down.

But no one was going to hear that from her. Ever. 

It has been a long, filthy day in the Hossberg Wetlands. Lisbette chose Davrin to come with her, because as a Grey Warden, he’s a natural choice for the area. Then she asked Emmrich to make up their third as a kind of apology she didn’t have to say out loud, because she thought he’d enjoy the gloomy atmosphere of the place as much as she did. 

After a particularly bloody and blighted fight, she and Davrin were filthy, but Emmrich was as pristine as when they set out. Dirt didn’t seem to want to cling to the professor.

‘Oh dear,’ Emmrich tuts, looking at them both. ‘Neither of you have learned dirt-repelling charms. I put them on my clothes every morning. The dead can be so messy.’

Despite the fact that she’s resolved to keep things strictly Fade-related and professional with Emmrich, Lisbette speaks without thinking. 

‘Dirt-repelling charms?’ she asks, wiping the back of her hand over her cheek. ‘I’ve never heard of those before.’

‘The principles are simple. I can tell you about them, if you wish.’

She eyes Professor Volkarin warily. He’s smiling pleasantly at her, and they have a long walk to their next destination. This doesn’t seem like a topic that concerns Watchers particularly, and so she cautiously nods. 

The two of them discuss the theory behind the charm and the mage who invented them, and Lisbette is surprised to find she’s enjoying their conversation. Professor Volkarin is a great deal less formal with her than he was as her professor. He’s animated as he speaks, gesturing with his staff and his hands, and adding a lot more personal opinion about things than he ever used to do. 

Then he says something that feels to Lisbette like tripping up and falling flat on her face. 

‘Vorgoth hasn’t been without a dirt-repelling charm since the incident with the ink bottles and the four playful spirits from the lower Necropolis.’

The playful spirits from the lower Necropolis. They’d been her friends when she was a child. They’d played spooky hide-and-seek with her, popping out of urns and chasing her around statues. She’d never been afraid back then. She hadn’t learned fear until very recently. 

‘Lisbette?’ Emmrich says. 

She realises he’s been talking and she hasn’t heard a word. ‘Sorry, I was...thinking about the Evanuris.’

But the professor isn’t fooled. He asks gently, ‘I think you’d rather not speak of that place. Am I right?’

Lisbette watches Davrin and Assan up ahead. Her pride is telling her to keep her mouth shut. No one from the Mourn Watch can know how much she misses them. It’s embarrassing. Shameful somehow. They turned their backs on her, and she won’t come scratching at the door like a pathetic stray cat.  

It was strange seeing the Necropolis yesterday after so long. The long corridors, decorative urns, and flickering veilfire had once been home to her. The most wonderful place in the world. 

‘It doesn’t matter. I won’t be returning there ever again.’

‘Ah, so I shouldn’t ask if you...’ He trails off and smiles. ‘Nothing. Never mind.’

They walk together in strained silence, Lisbette looking everywhere but at him. 

‘I find that long walks are preferable if there is conversation,’ the professor says in a cheerful tone. ‘Would necromancy in general be an agreeable topic of conversation for you, Lisbette?’ 

‘Yes it would,’ she tells him. ‘Very welcome, actually. The group tends to be disconcerted by the ‘death stuff,’ as they call it.’

‘The death stuff is weird,’ Davrin calls back to them.

Emmrich and Lisbette exchange glances, and Lisbette is surprised to find she’s smiling. 

‘People from outside Nevarra, they’re the strange ones,’ Lisbette says.

‘Burning their dead. Heartbreaking.’ 

‘So wasteful.’

The professor speaks eloquently about his corpse whispering, and the necromancer in Lisbette can’t help but be drawn into a technical conversation about souls and spirits. 

This is surprisingly nice, she thinks to herself as they walk along. As long as they don’t talk about the Mourn Watch, she’ll be happy to chat with the professor any time, and it was comforting speaking with someone who’s known her longer than everyone else in her life. 

Hours later, they're stepping back through the eluvians, and she feels as though she should say something to the professor. 

Saying sorry was too much for her pride, so she expresses gratitude instead. ‘Thank you for coming today. I liked having you with us. Me.’

‘I was pleased to be of service. Oh, dear,’ Emmrich murmurs, and plucks an invisible speck of dust from his pristine coat. ‘I fear I’m filthy.’

‘Bathing in this place is fine, but don’t you miss the-’ Lisbette breaks off. She was about to say, Don’t you miss the bathhouses at the Mourn Watch . 

She misses the bathhouses. She misses the friends she made, and the camaraderie of being with other necromancers. She misses being among people who uncomplicatedly like her. Who don’t look at her like she’s strange or wrong or is going to get them all killed, even if they have accepted their deaths. 

For a moment she can’t breathe, as if death itself has stopped her throat. 

Emmrich reaches for her. ‘Lisbette? Are you unwell?’

If he manages to put his hand on her shoulder, she’ll probably cry, and then he’ll look at her with pity, which is the last thing she wants from people who turned their backs on her. 

Lisbette shakes her head and hurries into the Lighthouse, grateful for her masses of curls that hide her face. 

--

Emmrich can’t remember the last time he felt this angry. The mission was a success and everyone was safe. Including Lisbette. Thankfully, especially Lisbette. She had fought remarkably, one might say even magnificently, facing down the horror that is Ghila’nain without flinching. He’d been inspired, even dazzled, in those moments.

But to punch the First Warden. 

This is not the behaviour of the thoughtful and compassionate leader who he’s been growing to esteem.

That night at the Lighthouse, everyone is congratulating Lisbette on her actions, praising them and even laughing about them. Only Bellara is silent, but her silence is uncertain. 

Emmrich leaves them to their laughter and retreats to his rooms. He needs tea. 

Later, he passes Lisbette in the library. 

‘Lisbette,’ he says with a polite incline of his head, because it’s bad manners not to greet her.

He is already past her when she calls to him, ‘Is that all you have to say, Professor Volkarin?’

There’s a distinct sass to her voice. 

Emmrich stops, and then turns around to face her. How best to proceed when faced with an angry young woman who is his senior in rank, however informal things are at the Lighthouse, but who he longs to dress down as though she was still his student? 

She’s not writing snarky little essays now. She could get herself killed. 

He clasps his hands behind his back and regards her with a grave expression. ‘We made an impressive stand at Weisshaupt, but I was taken aback by certain events of the day.’

Lisbette’s eyes glitter with anger. ‘Just say it. I shouldn’t have punched the First Warden. That’s not how a Mourn Watcher behaves.’

‘I am conscious of your feelings on the matter of the Mourn Watch and I won’t speak of them, as I have already told you.’

She was being entirely too sensitive about the Mourn Watch, but he would respect her wishes even if he didn’t understand them. 

She was being entirely too sensitive now as well. 

‘You don’t have to say it. Your disapproval is written all over your face.’ 

‘You are better than how you behaved today, Lisbette.’

Her eyes narrow, and she takes an angry breath. ‘And what gives you the right to decide that? You can’t form a council and pass judgment on me, and exclude me from all these people who’ve dared to call themselves my friends. If you’re so disappointed in me, Professor Emmrich Volkarin of the Mourn Watch, you know where the door is.’

‘Lisbette...’ 

‘I’m not interested in talking about it. Either you stay or you go, but you keep your opinions to yourself, and that includes your judgmental looks that I feel boring into the back of my neck.’ 

Well, that told him. Emmrich feels his moustache twitch in even greater disapproval. 

That night as he lies in bed, he goes over the conversation with Lisbette again. Just what happened to Lisbette when she was asked to temporarily depart the Mourn Watch? What council was she talking about? 

He gets out of bed and writes a letter to Myrna. 

Myrna’s reply comes back within two days. It includes a detailed description of the events of the civil war that pertain to Lisbette and her group of fellow mages. After the unrest had been resolved, Lisbette was judged in front of dozens of noble Nevarrans, not just the Mourn Watch, who were angry about the civil war and looking for someone to blame. There was not one word of acknowledgment, let alone gratitude, for the lives she had saved by intervening. The judgment was entirely focused on the fact that she had acted without anyone’s approval or permission. Lisbette did not speak up in her own defence, and no one from the Mourn Watch spoke for her either. 

Emmrich reads the letter through again and sighs. The Nevarran council sounded excessive, even cruel. He’d imagined that it had been gently suggested to Lisbette by the Mourn Watch that she leave until things settled down, and it had been a private, internal matter, but how wrong he was. 

Thank you for reading!

CHAPTER THREE