#Not only do they find a way to keep on the move (no home...only the road and the people around you).

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Yiling Band Tour!

[gospelica]

"what's this 'bout a boy?"

your pervy uncle sukuna has you bent over his knee like you're about to be spanked. but rather than hit the flesh of your ass with his calloused hands, he's plunging two fingers meanly into your cunt like you deserve a punishment :(

it's not your fault! you want to say that, to beg for him to go easy on you but every time you open your pretty lips to speak all that comes out is desperate moans and pleads for more. he curls his fingers inside of you every now and then, makes you see stars just to pull that pleasure from you!

you can't be too loud, though, your parents are only in the other room. uncle sukuna is meant to be here for a family dinner, one in which he'll exchange weird jabs with your father and make your mother turn her nose up all the while he's digging nails into your thigh under the table. you haven't seen him in months now, not since the last time he visited and you ended face-down-ass-up on your pretty comforter taking his cock so deep you forgot your own name.

as if you could settle for boys your age after a taste of him.

sukuna stops his movements and, with his free hand, forces your chin up to look at him the best you can from where you're bent over his knee. "fuckin' answer me. who's the boy?"

"no one!"

"lying brat, you want me to make you cry again?"

uncle sukuna had overheard an exchange between you and your mother when he first showed up. you were telling him about a boy from your college classes that had asked you out: sweet, well mannered, probably a bore in the bedroom. your mother encouraged it, because of course she thinks you're rather lonely. after all, you've never brought a man home! she just doesn't know it's because your uncle would find a way to make his murder as cruel as possible... :(

"'m not even interested in him," you have to breathe through your mouth, squeezing around sukunas fingers which are still stalled inside of you. "he asked me out. i said no. i can't... i can't be with other guys now that i have you."

there's silence. you know your uncle doesn't like that sappy shit. he's the type to fuck you rough and mean and leave you shaking just to throw a teasing 'love you' over his shoulder as he's leaving, just to watch your eyes widen as you stand between your oblivious parents. but you also know that he's possessive. that he'll do anything he can to stake his claim on you, though because of the secrecy of your relationship that usually means inhibiting your ability to sit down without wincing for a week.

"what, you think i'm your boyfriend or something?" his fingers start up again, making your pussy squelch as he thrusts them into you at a newer, meaner pace. "got some news for you about our relationship, brat."

"no i know," you gasp as he curls his fingers up again. you're so close, so fucking close it hurts. you're digging your nails into his leg though he doesn't seem to mind at all. "still. don't want anyone else... fuuuuck, uncle sukuna, right there, please.."

you think he laughs. or maybe moans as you definitely break skin with how hard you're digging into him. he speeds up, starts rubbing your needy little clit in fast circles until you're trying to keep quiet when your orgasm crashes over you.

"look at you, talking bout boys when you can't even last with two of my fingers inside this little cunt. fucking pathetic."

he pulls his fingers out just to sharply pinch your clit before moving you to better sit on his strong lap. "i'll drive you to classes tomorrow."

you're a little too stupid from your orgasm to get his point. "what?"

"no one knows i'm your uncle. hell, you hardly knew me yourself til i started showing up. i'll drive you, walk you in, show everyone you're spoken for."

"am i spoken for?"

"tch. don't play fuckin' dumb."

[verdancy-hime]

It's trying to kill her.

She's trying to kill herself instead.

Her alarm clock says "It's not a fashion statement, it's a deathwish."

The first time you met her, she was yelling at the cars in the road to get her to hit her to buy her a computer. Or was it that she was wearing all different colors of lipgloss around her neck and coming out of a tunnel full of bats and thinking "I am suddenly certain that the best years of my life are all behind me. I am going to kill myself one day." And you thought "that's a weird thing for a second grader to be thinking. Girls usually aren't that depressed until they have tits."

One of them keeps talking about how she moved on and she's healthy now.

The other has been saying over and over that she tries not to think about it because she knows they'll lock her up one day. She knows they made her wrong on purpose. She knows they have been trying to fix her but she won't fix. There's always some battle of wits and will and they all accuse her of being greedy but she always wins and always wonders why they didn't try bribery when bribery always works. She is lying on a floor at a party among a group of beautiful girls and you don't know why you are listening to her say this instead of them. This keeps happening. You will find her next to a girl with a perfect face for this moment, the girl will lick your shoulder blade. You wind up having a conversation about some book you never read and how you would like it based on this movie you mentioned. The other girl crawls into your lap. She walks over to your friend and starts asking him questions. You buy the book the next day. It sits on the shelf for three years after the girl with the face and the lips and the... other assets is gone. There are other girls in the meantime. You don't read it but you don't throw it away. One night you are in a new place and nothing is unpacked and you can't sleep and you can't even look at any more liquor after the last three weeks and here is this book. And on the first page when you open it up, you are reintroduced to yourself that year back then. And you know which girl is the girl who is telling the truth about who she is because she dies in the book. Unmistakably, she dies. And it's not even the end of the story. It's not the point of it. It's like here you are on the night you met and she dies and here you are going through all these miseries that hadn't happened yet when the book was written. And here you are on the next page of your own life.

You know it was her because she wants to. She talks about wanting everything, how to do anything. How to get away with it. How to make ugly things beautiful and evil things good and stupid things smart. but the one thing that never changes is that she stares into a cup or a light for too long, she writes a story, she tells you about things she's done-

You go to admire her for her bravery or what she's done. She can lie and say what she's supposed to say- yes, I know , I'm great. Or she says "people think I'm brave but really I just already have to live with the things they're afraid of. I'm not afraid of losing the things they have because I don't have them. And If I get stuck, I always think 'I'll just kill myself if this doesn't work."

You know it's her because she keeps getting into cars with boys because she thinks maybe one will murder her. And when she realizes they want to take her home and keep her, she stops doing that and starts asking them why they don't love their empty houses. And when she gets urged to make a wish, everyone offers her things she wants but the only wish she will take is "I wish I was dead." And the only way to talk her out of it is to say someone else will also die. And one day, you turn on your TV and it has a girl and it's not her face and it's not her name and it's not her voice speaking in her register and she dies and says everyone else will live if she does it. And one day you, even you, turn on the car radio and here's a song about her sung by someone who looks like her and sounds like her and you don't remember the story about how she read a book about a vampire hunter with a harem and said she didn't like it because the girl always is smug and mean about other women's makeup but a girl named after a legend in Arthurian myth put it in her face when she went out into the snow and walked around screaming for hours when she fell asleep next to a girl her friends tried to set her up with at a party after finding out she was too young and wrapping her in a blanket and talking to her a while. The cute hacker girl with the knee socks she bought her who begged to be turned into a girl and rescued from her parents who wanted to be a boy was giggling with another teenage girl that if you drink rum and diet coke it tastes just like skittles. Neither one of them were wearing any clothes. She went outside and screamed and screamed and screamed and after that night she couldn't sing anymore. Before that she got compliments. Sometimes. So she went inside and this girl named after a boy who went insane and died as a tree after he drank some potion and fell in love with the king's girl handed her a book so she would have something to do other than throw up from crying. Her father used to yell at her for crying so hard it made her sick. She still does it. Singing or no singing, her lungs still do that. Too big for the rest of her. She tells you the only thing she remembered was "you don't give somebody to the monsters." And the rest was just bullshit. And she tells you that she doesn't want anyone else to die when she dies.

And she tells you that she used to talk to this person. One she made up.

So you know it's worse than the time where she lost her singing voice when one day you see her saying there was this cult that she thinks tricks people into exorcising their own souls, they say it's mindfulness and they used to say it was demons they cast out. But what happens if you have too many souls? What then? She says she beat them but they killed her cat, but now her cat brings the souls back. She says now they want to kill her, but that's okay. Because no one else will die with her.

You know the other her is fake because it's immortal, but it writes songs about how it doesn't want to die. Maybe she might develop jealousy or pettiness or insecurity or rage or grief or anything else. She would never give up her death.

But you turn on the television, you go to read a book

And all the monsters aren't monsters, they're just people she used to know.

"What's that even supposed to mean, 'It's not her'? If it looks like her, talks like her, acts like her, thinks like her, thinks it IS her, who's to say that it is NOT her?"

[writingroom21]

Only Fans

Pairing: stepdad!rafe x onlyfans!stepdaughter!reader

Summary: Rafe finds out a new secret about his stepdaughter and can't seem to help himself. Or Topper gives Rafe an accidental present.

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader does onlyfans, use of dildo (reader), spanking, cream pie, reader calls Rafe daddy.

Wc: 2K

“Man if I was in that house I would be taking advantage. She’s just there begging for it with these videos.” Rafe slows down his pace as he hears Topper talk. “Bet she’s imagining him every time she says daddy. Probably hopes he’ll hear her and do something about it.” Kelce laughs agreeing with his friend. Rafe creeps up behind them looking at the phone they are looking at. What he wasn’t prepared to see was his little step-daughter naked on the screen as she sinks down a huge dildo. His brain short-circuits as he watches you bounce up and down. How your pussy perfectly swallows the dildo with ease. Shit. “What the fuck are the two of you watching?”

The phone clatter ons the tiled floor causing the edges of it to crack. “Fuck Rafe you scared the shit out of us.” Topper picks up his phone inspecting it as Kelce clenches his heart. “Are you fucking sexting my step-daughter?” He stalks forward making his friend take a step back. Topper looks at Kelce for help but the other man just gets up and backs out of the room. “No no. It’s her only fans, she makes these videos and posts them on the internet.” Rafe snatches the phone from his hand and looks through it. He can clearly see Topper was on a website and sure enough there's videos of you. Without thinking he sends the website page to himself and tosses the phone back at his friend.

“Delete that account and if you look or talk about her again I’ll kill you.” Rafe rushes to his truck and sits in the front seat with his phone in his hands. Pulling up the website he creates an account and subscribes to you. “Am I really about to do this?” He mumbles to himself before clicking on the first video. There you are in one of his work shirts playing with your pretty pussy. You tease your clit as you smile into the camera giving it a wink as you sink your fingers in. “Fuck daddy you feel so good.” His dick swells in his pants making it uncomfortable as he keeps scrolling. Video after video there you were fucking yourself all while crying out the word daddy.

Having enough he throws the phone on the passenger seat and races home. All he needs to do is get it out of his system. He’ll watch your videos and fuck his fist until the idea of you is out of his mind. Screw Topper for watching that video. Of course he would find your only fans and enjoy your videos. The fact that Topper, his friend, got to see you like this pisses him off. That should have been saved for him. He should have seen you taking each dildo, watching as you slowly work your way to something that stretches you out for him. But the thing that infuriates him is that you are posting this for others to see. Thankfully every video is solo so he didn’t have to see you fucking someone else.

He slams his truck into park and practically runs into the house. It wasn’t until he was passing your room that the plans divot. Your bedroom door is wide open displaying as you lay on your back with your hand shoved in your panties. You have headphones in so you probably didn’t hear him and your eyes are closed so you can’t see him. He should walk into his room and jerk off to the image of this. Create some scenario where you get on your knees and suck him off. But he’s not that type of man. No he’s the type to walk into your room, lock the door, and climb on your bed next to you. Your eyes snap open at the shift of weight. “Rafe oh my god.” The clunky headphones fall on the bed and he can hear a male's voice.

“Who are you talking to?”The corners of your eyes crinkle. “No I.” You close your mouth and try to move to the edge. He only takes that as a sign to move closer, his hand finding your thigh. “Who is it?” His grip tightens and he pulls you to him. The bed sheets ruffle underneath you as you try to make space. “It’s an audiobook.” Now that was new. Picking up the headphones he takes a listen. A low chuckle comes from him from what he hears causes you to feel embarrassed. “Is that what you think of when you fuck yourself for those videos?” Your eyes widen even more but something in the way he looks at you makes you bold.

“No, I think about you. Wishing you would finally fuck me the way I want.” A huge smile spreads across his face. Now on his hands and knees, Rafe climbs over you. Your back lands on the mattress as his body hovers, barely touching you but enough to drive you insane. “Should’ve just found me baby. Would’ve shown you what a real man feels like.” He emphasizes the point by grinding his hard dick on your thigh. Instinctively your thighs open to welcome him in. You love the way his jeans feel rubbing against your panties. The ridge of the zipper grazes your clit with the slow rocks of his hips. Blue eyes are trained on yours waiting for you to say something.

“Show me.” The words are softer than you intended. “Show me, please Rafe.” Leaning back he watches you breathing heavily. His right pointer finger trails a path from the base of your throat all the way down to the hem of your lace pink panties. He snaps the band, marveling at the way you shut your eyes in pleasure. Allowing him to do whatever he wants. He gets up from the bed ripping the panties off of you in the process. “Why don’t you show me how you think about me? Go fuck yourself on one of your dildo’s.” Your eyes flash brightly at the idea. 

When you first started posting you loved all the comments you would get. Seeing how much someone wanted you turned you on. But the thought of Rafe watching you makes you the horniest you’ve ever been. While also making you super nervous. He makes his way to the end of the bed. Fingers wrap around your ankles pulling you to the edge of the bed, forcing you off and to your dresser.

How does he know where your dildo’s are?

He sits down as you grab your favorite one. It’s long but mostly girthy so it stretches you out just the way you like it. The suction cup grips the floor making a noise when you get it in place. Next you grab a bottle of lube. You squirt some on the tip and spread it making sure to make eye contact with him. Your eyes glaze over watching as he pulls his pants down and palms his cock. Shit. Just by looking at him you can tell he’s going to feel amazing. It’s a good thing you picked this dildo since Rafe is like the perfect mirror image of it. There’s a small twitch in his eye almost making you flutter. “Where’d you get that?” You sink down on it, enjoying how it fills you with a delicious burn.

“Was mailed to me at school. A gift I guess.” You don’t really care who sent it. All you know is that it’s the best dick you’ve gotten and that includes real life. Everything about it drives you crazy, especially the large vein going from the tip to base. It feels so good when it rubs against your g-spot. Slowly you bounce on it, your tits bouncing along with you. There’s a drop of precum that falls from his tip. You lick your lips wishing you had him in your mouth. Your heart rate picks up when he stands and walks over to you. This is the moment where he makes you suck him off. Well that was what you were hoping for. What you didn’t expect was for him to pull up by your hair and drag you to the bed. 

He shoves you face first over the edge and gets right behind you. The tip of his dicks swipes up and down slicking himself up with your juices. “Wanna hear a secret?” He’s teasing your entrance with his tip, barely pushing it in before pulling back. You whine out a what, locking your ankles around his back so he can’t fully leave. “You’ve been fucking yourself with a mold of me.” A while back Topper came up with the great idea of Rafe making a mold of his dick for your mom. He didn’t want to do it but his friend had convinced him it would benefit their sex life. Which at that point and still is none existent. Topper handled everything so now Rafe gets why your mom never said anything. He just thought she didn’t care and he wasn’t going to fight over something stupid.

“What!” You scream as he shoves fully inside you. You feel full, the same fullness you just had when you straddle your dildo. Oh fuck he was right. “Fucking Topper must have thought it was funny.” He starts thrusting furiously, spearing into your g-spot with each thrust. “He convinced me to make one of those molds. Didn’t know he sent it to you… got you nice and ready for me though. Might have to thank him.” Your ass bounces as his thrusts increase in pace. There’s a glaze film over his eyes as he looks down at you. A glob of spit falls directly where he enters you. A loud slap echoes the room followed by a loud moan from you.

His hand rubs the bright red handprint forming on the globe of your ass. “Finally got the real thing and can’t even speak.” His right arm lifts up to swat your ass again in the same spot. “Oh god.” A deep laugh comes from his chest, his fingers pulling at the ends of your hair. Tsking, he pulls a bit harder. “That’s not what you usually say.” He grips your hair at your scalp pulling you up-forcing his phone camera in your face. “Come on, princess, say what we both want to hear.” Burning liquid circles your veins as you orgasim peaks and you scream out. “DADDY.” A hard thrust praises you. “Daddy just like that. Please cum I want to feel you.” His grip on your hair shifts to your neck as he records your face. 

“Yeah? Wanna feel your daddy fill you up?” Rafe leans back pushing you back to have your face shoved in the sheets. The phone pans over to where he is essentially destroying your pussy. “Please daddy, cum in me please.” His nails dig into your back as he holds you down so he can fill you up. Slowly his hips come to a halt making sure to keep you plugged up. Shifting back, he adjusts the camera to catch the way his cum drips out of you. His thumb catches some, smearing it on your clit before shoving the finger back in you. Rafe pulls back, stopping the video and sucking his thumb in his mouth.

You watch him over your shoulder hoping he’ll do something else. Just then the front door slams. “I’m making chili tonight!” Your mom yells as she makes her way through the house. She talks to herself as you turn to face Rafe, your stepdad who just fucked the shit out of you. There’s a big smile on his face and he starts to back away. He sends you a wink right before he leaves you in your room wondering how you can act normal around him again. A few hours later you’re scrolling on tik tok when you get a notification. Looking you see it’s from Rafe and something flutters inside you. There’s a video with you at the forefront of it all.

Go on and post that baby. Want your followers to see how well your daddy treats you.

Taglist : @rafedaddy01 @rrafeswhore @10ava01 @selfcontollover07 @akobx @starkeysbebe @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafesbabygirlx @lolasangelz

[keelt9]

RED VALENTINE

Part II // Masterlist

A/N: Kind of excited to write this, it's been a while since I wrote about Max, but yeah…RB is out of my mind, my tolerance and all. 🙄 (Proceeds taking a long breath) 

However I believe I'm finding a space to write about him, so let's see how it works.🤫

Max loves the adrenaline, everyone knows that. Every time the season ends, he's back in a car, whatever the type is; with a suit race driving fast as hell, as his blood runs all over his body and his heartbeats increase.

Or he's in a mountain covered in snow as he goes down feeling the cold air all over his face and his legs tighten for the effort he does for being stable in his snowboard.

Maybe in the middle of the sea in his fancy yacht with the strong waves moving it one side to the other, as he keeps lying on the prow letting the soft waves touch his fingers.

In his SIM, hours and hours, playing all types of games, losing his mind from time to time as he grips the wheel or the keys almost turning in part of his fingers, typing fast as he can, even when in the stream are laughing about his T-Rex typing, screaming out loud, letting more than one F word come out of his mouth.

He simply loves it.

But when he met her, he felt terrified to even think about it.

Arriving at her home after a long season as all the lights are off and the visible gold dust line is on the floor only means one thing, she's probably working covered in sand as she's smiling from side to side of her face.

"I told you!" Max hears her screaming as a varied sound at different volumes gets through the door too. "I...Fuck."

A loud thud probably her head against a wall of the wardrobe makes him wait.

"Ok, I'll do that, see you tomorrow morning ok?" She giggles as Max perks over the door of her bedroom.

She's fighting with her boots, her cellphone between her shoulder and her cheek, jumping around to take out the last one of them; instead of sitting and doing it calmly.

She let her phone fall over the bed leaving the last boot next to the other, as her hands went to her knees, a sign that she's tired but at the top of her emotions. 

Max scoffs. "The bed isn't lava, you know?"

Y/N lifts her head, hearing the voice of Max, with bright eyes and her heart beating faster.

"Max!" She runs jumping as Max catches her in the air. "God! What day is it?"

She watches her calendar in her door, the number 13 is the one that follows the other circle ones; 13 crossed with an orange line with a tiny heart in the corner…He is supposed to come on this day.

She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Sorry! I totally forgot."

Max smirks. "How excited are you?”

Y/N thinks before a wide smile appears in her face, almost that big as the one she has everytime they are together. "There were a couple of mummies next to the camera!" She tightens her legs around his torso. "I suspect that but Jesus! Seeing it is... Mind-blowing!"

Max giggles, taking out a big trace of sand and sweat in her forehead.

"Oh sorry, I was about to take a shower." She tries to go down but Max grips his hold around her.

"Good! I was thinking about it too." Max stops in the frame of the door from the bathroom. "Hey! I wouldn't mind a kiss."

Y/N leans capturing his lips in a demanding kiss that makes Max press her between him and the door. That's how she’s been held every time he goes to her, wanting to consume her in every possible way.

She splits seeing Max with his mind cloud but a smirk on his face.

"I really need a shower." Max swings with her right to the bath after a conclusive nod.

He needs one too...with her.

Still, mornings don't change, by the time Max gets down she is already moving around packing her things as she is having her breakfast, just sitting when she feels dizzy from spinning and spinning to pick up things.

"Max!" She met him in the living room, and a half of a banana in her left hand.

His hair tossed in all directions rubbing his left eye, half asleep half awake. Y/N give him a kiss on his lips, yes, she tastes apple juice and a banana.

"I'm about to leave, but I'll be back for dinner." She packs her laptop. "So, rest, sleep and make sure to find a nice place to have dinner, ok?"

Max smirks, here or in another part of the world, is her special key; making him feel love with small acts. This time she hugs him tight as she takes out her bag and a polaroid.

Where Max can notice her sitting with the sun right to her face and IPad on her legs, observing one race. In the background a clear sky with nothing in front. 

She must be in some place so fucking high from the ground.

"I'll miss you, you know that?" Max wants to play around a little bit before letting her go.

"I miss you like a crazy lifje but I think you miss those mummies more." She smacks his chest, he deserves that.

The horn of the car pointed her time to go.

"I got to go." She kisses Max one more time. "Love you babe."

Max pulls her for a second kiss, whispering to her lips. "I love you too, take care please."

Y/N nods, grabbing her backpack and hat, waving her hand before closing the door.

He perks through the curtains, and she knows that as every time she leaves first; taking her time to turn around and wink at him leaving him with a buzz in his heart. In the kitchen, Max feels his heart beat like crazy, a full breakfast and a love card.

 >Love you.

And the shade of lipstick in the corner.

It was a random event for a fancy sponsor in Egypt 3 years ago. Max was driving along one of the historic zones when he found her sitting covered in a grey dust next to the road. He was scared of something happening to her, he parked or he tried to; break dry leaving half of his wheels on the concrete running to see if she's fine.

What he never expects is her smile bright as she shakes her head.

"Fine? I'm over the clouds!" She raises her hands for layback on the sand, sighing before starting to giggle. "A altar to Mut, a fucking altar."

That day he found an archeologist, who found what was an altar in almost perfect state, one of the goodness of Egypt. She was sitting next to the road because she was so excited that the only thing she could feel makes her calm down was walking until her legs couldn't take another step, obliging her to sit and wait for her team to pick her up, but they didn't or they couldn't reach her. Instead a cute Dutch guy offered to take her whatever she needed, turning a small conversation next to a road in a 2 year relationship.

Yes, Max loves the adrenaline until he isn't the one who's walking around in an ancient zone probably meters down the ground, with things unknown that could break, fall or be a trap: fun fact that person it's the girl who loves like no one in the world. 

In that moment Max hates the adrenaline that runs all over his body.

Both of them knew it, he could fake trying to try to sleep and rest but after a 5 hours of waiting, walking side to side of the house, in a lame attempt to play, he parked in the reserve area where all the archaeologists and people who worked there did.

"Max, hey, congratulations!" Y/N boss said as Max walks putting all the things he needs, helmet, flashlight and his neon vest.

Max's smile accepted the high five and the quick hug. "Thanks, I'm sorry if I..."

Her boss shook his head. "Come on Max, it's kind of freak me out knowing you here, still anywhere around." 

Everyone knows who Y/N’s boyfriend is, the first time they met him more than one let the helmets fall from their hands with time Max turned into a VIP guest, moving around wherever they worked. 

Not only because he's curious but also because he's such a worry-slash-protector boyfriend of his girl.

"You know I can't be calm when I'm with her." He shakes his head.

"Don't worry Max." He takes out his cigarette and lights it. "All straight, in 40 meters, you can start to see the movement of people.”

Max nods, high five with him before walking among monumental "building" flanks for massive figures.

Her boss is right; a couple of meters inside he could start to see people covered in dust and sand with the same outfit as him, walking around with papers, cameras, bottles of water and tools.

One by one they take their time to greet the world wide champion as he asks where he could find Y/N; all giggling making his smile drops and answers.

"Somewhere under the ground."

Yes, he hates that type of answer.

Rilion laughs the moment he turns around finding a breathless F1 driver running inside of a dark room, where lights and multiple computers are carefully placed. 

"Well, it takes you..." Rilion sees his watch. "Almost 4 hours to come, that's a new record for you." Max rolls his eyes as he greets Rilion 

Rilion is the best friend of Y/N, they met in the last semester of collage, by a gift of destiny they get working together and after a jealousy session the first time he met him; a roasting but nice friendship born between them too.

"Where..." Rilion interrupts his question pointing to the screen in front of him and the life line knot around a solid structure.

Max feels his heart drops, a life line means she's so, so, under the ground.

"Rilion, omg! Can you see it?" Her voice through the radio makes Rilion and Max looks at the screen.

Max simply couldn't decipher what is, but Rilion does for the way he claps and people watching the other screens to high five with each other.

"What am I seeing?" Max asks, narrowing his eyes as Rilion bluffs.

"That..." He points to what seems like a strange box cover in dust. "Means Y/N, she's right, our mummified friend is an important general."

He gets it, it's the grave of such an important general of some time in history.

"Simply lovely Y/N, be careful, ok? You and Rahul have another..." He sees time they have been under the ground. "Another hour and you must come out, got it?"

The oxygen is not a problem, what is a problem it's the pressure of being under the ground in a place that has been closed for millions of years.

"Ok." Y/N scoffs. "Say Max stop pressing his face between his fingers." Y/N just need to hear the "Simply lovely " phrase to be aware Max is somewhere around.

When Rilion turns he can see Max Verstappen's face pressed between his thumb and his pointing finger.

Max scoffs, letting go of his hand, he is terrified and that's a sign. 

"Tell her to take care." Rilon laughs, who in the world would tell, a guy who drives at more than 200 km per hour is terrified about his girlfriend doing one of the safest activities, nowadays.

"He said to take care." Y/N camera of her helmet and chests show she's making a heart sing.

Yes, she can hear him, but if he knows, he will keep talking and hissing every step she takes.

"Fuck! She's so..."  Rilion raises his finger, moving the chair to the other screen.

"Careful Verstappen, careful. More than one wants to be there." He raises a long stick from a lollipop. "She won for taking out the shortest." 

Max smirks, she's a clever girl.

"Unbelievable, she's so unbelievably." Max patted his shoulder taking a seat in a chair in the corner.

Rilion gives him a heart shaped lollipop. "Sorry you have to spend the day here." 

Max takes it by clicking his tongue. "In her defence, we expected to find our friend in a couple of days, but we took the right paths."

"I can't believe the dead guy is the lucky one." Max takes the wrapping from the candy. "He's with my girlfriend on Valentine's Day."

Rilion laughs hard, Max is such a hilarious guy, and playing with him is funnier.

“If you're unlucky, she probably would come out before going back one more time.” Max bites the lollipop. “Have you ever been dumped on Valentine's Day?”

[delilahsturniolo]

�� ୨୧ no i’m not in love . . . c.s

in which . . . you and chris claim you guys are just friends, you can’t help but keep telling yourself you don’t love chris, even though you know your feelings for him are still present.

warnings . . . kissing, unresolved angst, suggestive.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

SO CLOSE TO WHAT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #12

you don’t love chris. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

it’s late when you show up at his place, the city humming outside, the air thick with that electric tension you both pretend doesn’t exist. you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk playing at your lips. “couldn’t sleep?” chris asks, his voice low, teasing, as he steps aside to let you in.“something like that,” you murmur, kicking off your shoes, already making yourself at home. because that’s what this is…something comfortable, something easy. it’s not love. just chemistry. just a habit you can’t seem to break.

he watches you, tongue running over his bottom lip like he’s holding back a comment. you raise a brow, daring him to say something, but he just shakes his head and walks toward the couch. “you gonna keep standing there, or are you gonna sit?”

you roll your eyes but follow, sinking into the space beside him. too close, but neither of you move away. the tv is on, playing something neither of you care about, the dim light flickering across chris’s sharp jaw, his dark eyes, the slight smirk that never really leaves his face when you’re around. his arm stretches across the back of the couch, fingers ghosting the nape of your neck. you pretend not to notice, but your body betrays you, leaning in just slightly.

“so,” chris starts, his voice smooth, warm like the whiskey he poured himself earlier. “what’s on your mind?” you tilt your head, pretending to think. “nothing.” he only chuckles. “yeah? nothing at all?”

you shrug, but your fingers twitch where they rest against your thigh. he notices. of course, he does. “if you say so,” he murmurs, leaning in, his breath warm against your skin. your pulse jumps. it always does with him. “this doesn’t mean anything,” you say softly, more to yourself than him.

chris hums, lips ghosting over your jaw. “of course not.” your fingers find the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric as he moves closer. his hand skims your thigh, tracing patterns you swear leave heat in their wake. “we’re just friends,” you whisper, letting your head tilt back as his lips brush your collarbone.

“mhmm.” chris’s lips curl into a smirk against your skin. you let him pull you onto his lap, your hands tangling in his hair, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to prove something. like he’s trying to make you admit something. but you won’t. you can’t. because this isn’t love.

it’s just the way he makes your breath hitch when he trails his fingers down your spine. just the way your body fits against his like it was meant to. just the way he whispers your name like it’s a secret meant only for him. and when morning comes, and you slip out of his bed, pulling on your sweater with shaking hands, you’ll remind yourself again.

you don’t love him.

and maybe if you say it enough, one day, you’ll believe yourself.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

taglist

[tqlepatia]

Sevika x reader who has a family loss and refuses to do anything but cry, sevika gets her to eat

DONT YOU DROWN IN ME

Summary: Sevika finds reader in a deep state of grief, refusing to eat, and quietly helps you through it with patience and care.

tw : Depression, grief, familly loss, disordered Eating (starvation due to emotional distress), hurt/Comfort, deep trauma.

The house felt empty, more than ever.

You used to love how full this place was. The noise, the laughter, the small, everyday conversations that you never thought twice about. The way your mother used to hum in the kitchen, how your father always forgot where he put his keys, the way your siblings would bicker over the smallest things, only to make up ten minutes later like nothing had happened.

It was home.

A car crash had torn them away from you. One by one, bone by bone. You never even got to say goodbye properly. One moment, they were there, and the next, they weren’t. The walls still held the echoes of their presence, but they felt like ghosts now. Shadows of the life you had built together.

They were gone. All of them.

You barely moved from the bed after that. What was the point? You couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw them. Their smiles, their touches, the way they had loved you so fiercely. And then you saw their broken bodies, the blood, the lifeless stares. It was like drowning in an ocean of grief, unable to breathe, unable to escape.

Sevika stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching you curled up in bed, the same way you’d been for days. The curtains were drawn, the room stale from being shut up too long. Dishes sat untouched on the nightstand, evidence of her previous, failed attempts to get you to eat.

She hated this.

Hated seeing you like this. Hated not knowing what to say, what to do. She wasn’t good at comfort, never had been, but the sight of you wasting away in grief made her chest ache in ways she didn’t know how to fix.

A heavy sigh left her lips as she stepped inside, the mattress dipping as she sat beside you. “You need to eat, doll.”

Still standing in the doorway of your bedroom, arms crossed. You ignored her. You were curled up under the blankets, staring at the wall. She sighed heavily, running a hand down her face. "This isn’t what they would want for you."

You didn’t respond. Didn’t move. Just pulled the blankets tighter around yourself, your shoulders trembling from another quiet sob.

You hated it. Hated when people tried to use the dead as a reason for the living to keep going. What did they know? They weren’t the ones who lost everything.

She reached out, pressing a rough hand against your back. “I know it hurts, baby” she murmured. “And I know nothing I say is gonna make it better. But you have to eat, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, curling in on yourself. “Not hungry."

She exhaled sharply, rubbing slow circles over your back. “I don’t care if you’re not hungry.”

She stood abruptly, leaving the room without another word. When she returned, she had a bowl of soup in her hands, steam curling up toward the ceiling. She set it down on the nightstand and sat back on the bed. “Sit up.”

You wanted to tell her to fuck off, to leave you alone. But she wasn’t going anywhere. You knew that. She was stubborn. More stubborn than you.

Sevika gritted her teeth. She wasn’t used to being gentle, but for you, she tried. She softened her tone, brushed stray hairs from your damp cheeks. “C’mon, doll. Just a sip.”

Reluctantly, you pushed yourself up, wincing at the stiffness in your limbs. Sevika sat on the edge of the bed, holding out a bowl of soup. You stared at it. It smelled good. Your stomach twisted, but you had ignored your hunger for so long that it barely registered anymore.

"Eat," she said, her voice a little softer this time.

You sniffled, shifting slightly under the blankets. It was the most movement she’d seen from you in days.

Slowly, carefully, she slid an arm under your shoulders, guiding you upright. You were sluggish, weak from days of not eating, but you didn’t fight her. “Just one, for me at least, love.”

Your lips parted, and she watched with relief as you took a small sip.

She took that as a win.

“There you go,” she murmured. “That’s my girl.”

The first spoonful was hard to swallow. The second was easier. By the third, you realized just how starving you actually were.

You took another one

And another

And another

Sevika didn’t say anything while you ate. She just sat there, watching, making sure you finished. When you handed her the empty bowl, she nodded approvingly.

She takes the bowl from your hands, placing it next to the small cabinet by the bed, soon, holding you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"You’re gonna keep eating," she told you. "Even if I have to sit here every damn day and shove food in your mouth myself."

A weak, breathy laugh escaped you before you could stop it. It felt foreign, wrong. But Sevika smirked, shaking her head.

"Good to know you can still laugh, at least, hm?."

She couldn’t take away the pain.

But she’d be damned if she let it take you away too.

Sevika didn’t rush you. She never did. She let you sit in that heavy silence for as long as you needed, her presence steady, a quiet force beside you. But eventually, she shifted, and you felt her eyes on you.

“You need a bath,” she murmured, not unkindly. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You exhaled slowly, but even that felt like effort. You knew she was right. You could feel the weight of exhaustion clinging to your skin, the stiffness in your limbs, the way your clothes felt like they’d fused to your body after too many nights of lying in bed, doing nothing but sinking deeper into yourself.

Still, moving felt impossible.

Sevika didn’t sigh, didn’t chastise you. She simply stood, reaching for your hands and pulling you up with a gentleness you weren’t sure you deserved.

The bathroom was warm, the tub already filling with steaming water by the time you got there. Sevika moved with quiet efficiency, rolling up her sleeves, checking the temperature with her fingers before glancing back at you. You hovered at the doorway, arms wrapped around yourself like you were bracing for something.

Sevika tilted her head. “Let me help,” she said, softer this time.

You didn’t resist as she stepped forward, fingers carefully lifting the hem of your shirt. She undressed you with the same methodical patience she did everything else—slow, deliberate, never lingering in a way that made you feel exposed. It wasn’t about that. It was about getting you to do something, anything, about the state you were in.

Once you were settled in the tub, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The warmth wrapped around you, seeping into your aching muscles, loosening something tight in your chest.

Sevika knelt beside you, dipping a washcloth into the water before running it along your arm, then up to your shoulder, then your neck. She worked in silence, her touch firm but careful, like she was trying to wash away more than just the dirt and sweat.

You closed your eyes, letting her take care of you.

When the water cooled, she handed you a towel, watching as you dried off and pulled on fresh clothes. It felt strange, feeling even slightly human again, like stepping into a body you hadn’t fully inhabited in a while.

But Sevika wasn’t done.

“Teeth,” she said, arms crossed over her chest. “Then we’re getting out of here for a bit.”

You wanted to groan, to curl back into yourself, but the way she was looking at you—the way she had stayed, despite everything—made it impossible to say no.

So, you brushed your teeth while she stood in the doorway, watching you like you might change your mind at any second. The toothpaste foamed up too fast, making you gag slightly, and Sevika snorted. It was such a normal sound, so utterly mundane, that it almost made you smile.

By the time you both stepped outside, the sunlight felt too bright, the air too sharp against your skin. The park wasn’t crowded, but the noise still felt strange after so many days of suffocating silence. Families sat on blankets, couples strolled hand in hand, kids ran across the grass with the kind of carefree joy that felt like something from another life.

Sevika kept close, her hand finding its usual place at the small of your back. She didn’t rush you, letting you set the pace, letting you get used to the world again.

For a little while, it was okay.

Then, suddenly, it wasn’t.

The weight of everything pressed in too fast, too sudden. The laughter of strangers felt like a reminder of everything you had lost. The sun felt like an intrusion, too harsh, too exposing. The ground beneath your feet didn’t feel stable anymore, and before you even realized it, your breath hitched, your vision blurred, and the world tilted.

Sevika moved instantly, guiding you toward a bench, pressing you down onto it before you could fully unravel.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice low, steady. One hand rubbed slow circles into your back, the other gripping yours like an anchor. “Just breathe.”

But you couldn’t. You pressed your face into your hands, shoulders shaking, the grief clawing its way out of you before you could stop it.

Sevika didn’t tell you to stop crying. She didn’t try to fix it. She just sat there, letting you break apart, letting you feel everything you had been trying so desperately to ignore.

And when the worst of it passed, when your body slumped in exhaustion, Sevika exhaled through her nose and said, “C’mon. You need something sweet.”

You let her pull you to your feet, let her lead you toward a small cart selling ice cream. She handed the vendor a few coins, then passed you a cone.

“Eat,” she said simply.

You took a slow, tentative bite. The cold was sharp against your tongue, a contrast to the heaviness in your chest. But it wasn’t bad. It was… nice. Almost.

Then, before you could take another bite, a small blur of motion crashed into you. A kid, running too fast, not watching where they were going. You barely had time to stumble before the ice cream tumbled from your hand, landing in a sad, melted splat on the pavement.

For a moment, you just stared at it. Sevika did too.

Then, unexpectedly, you laughed. It wasn’t forced or broken. It was real. Surprised. Something small but genuine cracking through the heaviness.

Sevika blinked, then snorted, shaking her head.

The kid, looking guilty as hell, stammered out a rushed, “Sorry!” before sprinting off again. And you laughed even harder.

Sevika sighed, shaking her head as she turned back to the vendor. “Another one.”

The man chuckled, handing her a new cone, which she passed to you with a smirk. “Try not to drop this one, yeah?”

You took it, nudging her playfully with your elbow. “No promises.”

Sevika just huffed, but there was something softer in her gaze, something close to relief. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in as you both sat back down on the bench, watching the world move around you.

Things weren’t fixed. They weren’t magically better, nothing work like that.

But for now, in this moment, it was enough.

[lipstickitty]

Night Moves

As always many thanks to my sweet friend @gracev0609 for always giving me ideas and helping me put my rambles together! (And giving me the title 🤭)

Another special thanks to @joshym for the encouragement to write it 🤭

Content warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI, grumpy (needy) Jake, masturbation, mentions of penetrative sex, use of sex toys, all smut zero plot

Word count: 3.5k+

-When Jake finds himself in desperate need of some alone time…

It had all started first thing in the morning- well, the night before, to be more exact. Jake had had an extremely long and exhausting night the previous evening, all he had really wanted to do was get himself off and go to bed. He’d felt the pesky ache nagging in his lower tummy all day long, visions of the girl he’d hooked up with a little while back dancing around his head, but by the time he’d gotten home and settled in bed he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He thought ‘okay fine, in the morning then.’ and he’d fallen into sleep almost immediately.

The following morning, he peeled his eyes open with a groan, still feeling so sleepy and fuzzy. The ache lingered, the underlying gnawing need, but he figured he’d already waited long enough, he could wait a few more minutes until he’d woken up enough to feel like he could move. For a few minutes he just lay there in silence, letting his mind wander back to the pretty girl he’d had in his lap, how she’d left him absolutely breathless. Then his eyes flicked over to his bedroom window, widening in realization when he realized just how bright it already was.

With a groan Jake reached over to his bedside table to grab for his phone, squinting at the bright light of his lock screen. He sighed and rolled his eyes in annoyance when he saw what time it was, he’d slept through his alarm and now had less than hour before he had to leave. Definitely not enough time to do what he needed to do and get ready for the day.

It normally wouldn’t be so bad, but he had a full day of things to do for work and he wouldn’t be back home until late that night. He had a long day of running around with his brothers ahead of him, rushing around to get everything done for their upcoming project. With another long sigh he resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to put his original morning plans on hold for the day in favor of coffee, breakfast and a shower before he had to head out for the day.

Just as Jake had expected, it had been a long and exhausting day. True to form his brothers had irritated the hell out of him, he loves them so dearly but sometimes it felt like they were bickering like children all over again. They’d had a million things to do and he’d already started the day off frustrated and frazzled. He’d done his best to keep his mind focused on what he was doing all day long but the filthy memories kept creeping in, and when they did it was difficult not to let them spiral out of control. His mood had soured more and more the longer the day went on, his brothers accusing him more than once of pouting or sulking, “What the fuck are you so mad about?” Josh had asked him, to which he’d replied, “not fucking mad.”

He remembered the way his jaw had clenched when Josh retorted, “Someone should tell your face.”

And each time any of them had asked he’d just scowled at them and went on about his business. It wasn’t even about them if he was honest, he was just feeling so frustrated and pent up, longing for release, beginning to feel a little desperate even. He just wanted to get home and take care of business.

Jake managed to muster up a better disposition than he had all day long when it was time for them to part ways for the day, making sure to hug each of them and tell them that he was sorry for being an asshole all day, he was just tired and grumpy. But of course they just laughed it off and told him to go home and get some rest before his face froze in a permanent frown. He’d just rolled his eyes and told them to fuck off with two middle fingers in the air before climbing in his car and heading off towards home.

On Jake’s drive back home, his desperate thoughts were beginning to get a little out of control with nothing to focus on but the road ahead of him and the mindless music playing on the radio. Then, about 15 minutes from home and sweet sweet relief, his phone rang. With his free hand not on the steering wheel he peeked to see who was calling then pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger with a deep sigh before he picked up the phone.

“What, Sam?” He answered, immediately exasperated that he couldn’t even make it home without being pestered.

“Hey, I need your help with something!” Sam’s voice blared through the speakers making Jake wince at the volume, quickly turning it down a few notches.

Jake sighed heavily, he would’ve been rubbing his temples had he not been driving, feeling a headache starting to form already. “Jesus Christ Sam, can’t it wait? What even is it?”

He could almost see Sam’s brows furrowing in confusion over the phone and he felt a little bad, he didn’t mean to be short and snippy, but damn was he losing his patience. “Can you stop by my house on your way home and switch the laundry over? I fucking forgot before I left and I’m not going straight home, I won’t be back for a few hours and I don’t want it to be all… gross when I get back there.” Sam begged, and Jake could hear the pout in his tone.

As much as Jake wanted to say no, it’s your fault for forgetting, he also knew exactly what it was like to have a million things on your mind and not think through your plans all the way, he was no stranger to forgetting things like that himself. Annoyed and frustrated as he was, he didn’t want his brother to suffer, and it really was a small favor to ask- it was on his way anyway. Knowing it would only take him a few extra minutes he nodded his head despite knowing Sam couldn’t see it over the voice call. With another sigh he answered, “Yeah Sam, I’ll stop by, I’m only a few minutes away anyway.”

“You’re a lifesaver, I owe you one, thank you!” Sam gushed, giggling into the phone before ending the call. Jake rolled his eyes and shook his head, cursing himself for not being able to say no to his brother.

He had been right, all in all it took him less than ten minutes to get in and out of Sam’s house and then he was gone, hurrying back to his own home so he could finally relax.

Jake’s fingers fumbled his keys when he finally made it to his front door, practically vibrating with anticipation. Grunting out an agitated “fuck,” he stooped down to retrieve them, thankfully successfully getting the door unlocked on the second try. He immediately set his things down on the kitchen counter on his way in, heading straight to his bedroom, he’d waited long enough.

He didn’t bother shutting the bedroom door behind him, he was the only one in the house. He quickly peeled his clothes from his body and discarded them in the laundry hamper to be dealt with later. Fully bare Jake relaxed back on his bed, his tousled locks fanned out on the pillow beneath his head, feeling his plush comforter so soft under his form.

He’d made the decision while he was running around with his brothers all day, when he finally made it back to his house and got his opportunity he was going to make it last. He wanted to make the wait worth it, take his time, enjoy himself. Grabbing his remote he turned on some soft music, wiggling around a little bit to find the most comfortable position to lay in.

With a soft sigh he allowed his eyes to flutter closed and ran his tongue along his bottom lip, finally all alone and able to let his mind venture back to that night, feeling so fresh in his memory still. Her dark hair cascading down her back, her tanned skin, her big doe eyes and pouty lips. Gorgeous tits, a perfectly soft tummy, her plush thick thighs. And god, her ass was incredible.

How she’d been on him as soon as the door closed behind them, kissing his breath away after hours of flirting and sneaky touches under the table at the bar. The way she’d looked standing bare before him, panting with flushed cheeks and a little smirk. As soon as he’d thrown all of his clothes aside she was shoving him down on the bed, telling him how fucking pretty he’d looked like that. She’d had him rock hard and wanting, his eyes wild, his body begging for her as he perched on the edge of his bed.

He let his body fully relax and brought one hand to rest on his neck. He’d been so pent up he was half hard already and he hadn’t even done anything yet. Gingerly he traced his thumb along his pulse point feeling the steady thrum beneath his touch, remembering how she’d done the same thing.

Finally he let his fingertips trail down his neck to his chest, beginning to flush with arousal. With a featherlight touch Jake slowly ran his palm along the expanse of his chest, his breath hitching when he ever so slightly brushed against his nipples. The way she’d gently pinched and massaged the sensitive nubs still so fresh in his mind. He briefly considered that he must have been more pent up than he had originally thought because he couldn’t recall if they’d ever been that sensitive before. He decided to linger there for a minute, swirling his thumbs over the hardened buds, gently pinching and squeezing the tender flesh.

Nice and slowly his hand traveled a bit farther down, fingertips teasing over his slightly soft tummy. He couldn’t help remembering the way she’d gripped onto his soft skin, and then she held onto his plush thighs as tight as she could while she was bouncing in his lap, her back to him while she held a vibrator pressed firmly against her clit. That position had driven him absolutely crazy, he still couldn’t get it off his mind.

His eyes slowly blinked open, taking a glance in the floor length mirror positioned across from his bed, taking in his own appearance. His cheeks and chest flushed pink, lips parted, legs spread apart. He saw his stomach rise and fall with his breath while his hand slowly traced up and down before moving his gaze downward, his cock now fully hard resting against his lower tummy and glistening with pearlescent beads of precum at the tip. He recalled looking up at that same mirror while she rode him like her life depended on it, seeing her pretty face in the mirror. Her pretty polished fingers holding the vibrator firmly against her swollen clit as she bounced on his cock. How he’d immediately caught her eyes in the reflection, the realization that she’d already been watching made his cock throb.

He watched his reflection as his cock twitched, begging for attention. Finally his fingers inched downward until just his fingertips brushed against the swollen sticky head. He exhaled a shaky breath as his hand slid down a little more, the pads of his fingers stroking down his length ever so gently. He watched in the mirror as his cock jumped under his own touch, so sensitive. The memory of the way she’d taken control a little bit flashed through his mind, how she’d teased him almost exactly like this until she finally turned her body around and sank down on his swollen length.

Jake’s free hand opened his bedside drawer and retrieved a bottle of his favorite lube and a vibrator, a compact little wand that really packs a punch, popping the cap off of the lube and laying his toy aside for later. The vision of her holding a similar toy tucked away between her legs while she fucked him senseless danced behind his eyelids each time he blinked. He finally tore his eyes away from his own reflection and tipped the bottle over and squeezed, letting a healthy dribble drip down onto his flushed hard cock before tossing the bottle aside. Hissing at the cool liquid hitting his flushed heated flesh he wrapped his hand around his thick base and gave himself a gentle squeeze, exhaling a soft breathy sigh at the much needed contact.

Painfully slowly he worked his hand up his shaft, from base to tip and back down, coating his entire length in the slick substance. “Fuck.” He sighed, his other hand inching down to cup his balls, so heavy and full in his palm. Then he turned his attention back to the mirror, taking in the sight of his own hand wrapped around his length, the metal of his rings catching on the low light of his bedroom. His poor cock flushed red and spilling sticky strings of precum down his thick shaft as he languidly stroked up and down, pausing on each stroke to tease his thumb over his sensitive slit. His clear sticky fluid combined with the lube to make everything so wet and messy, the sounds of his fist slowly pumping his cock sounded obscene in the mostly quiet room, reminiscent of how the wet sounds coming from between her legs had grown louder and louder as time went on. She just kept getting wetter and wetter as she fell apart on top of him over and over again.

Eventually allowing his movements to speed up a little bit, Jake squeezed himself a little harder, working with intention now. He felt the pleasure build and build, the tightness forming in his lower tummy. Little sighs and whimpers spilled freely from his parted lips, with the house empty he was free to make as much noise as he wanted, and finally getting the relief he was craving so badly just felt so fucking good.

He kept his same pace, same pressure, working himself up until he felt himself nearing the edge, and then he stopped. He ripped his hand away from his throbbing length, a whine tearing from his lungs at the loss of sensation as his cock twitched and jumped against his lower tummy. He watched as another fat bead of precum formed at his slit, slowly rolling down his shaft to pool at his base. The clear sticky fluid combined with the thick creamy lube, getting him all wet, reminiscent of how her pretty cunt had just been dripping all over him. His cock felt heavy between his legs, fully engorged resting on his lower abdomen.

Jake squirmed around on his bed while he worked to calm down. His fingers itched to just wrap around himself again and not stop until his load spilled over his fist but he knew it would be so much more rewarding if he waited.

Once he finally felt confident that he could touch himself again without losing control, he reached over and picked up the vibrator. With a long press to the power button the vibe buzzed to life, feeling the vibrations travel through the entire surface of the toy and tingling his fingers as he grasped it.

Exhaling a shaky sigh Jake moved the buzzing toy between his legs. He let it brush against his heavy balls first, letting it rest against his plush flesh making him gasp out a moan. He hadn’t forgotten about her turning the toy around on him, teasing him with it just to watch him squirm for a minute before finally sinking down on him. His reddened tip continuously dripped pearlescent precum down onto his belly, sticky strings connecting the swollen head of his cock to his lower abdomen.

Almost painfully slowly he trailed the tip of the toy upwards, letting the intense vibrations travel all the way up his length driving himself crazy. His back arched off the bed as he pressed it into the sensitive spot on the underside of his head. “Oh fuuuuck.” He groaned lowly, letting his voice trail off into a soft whimper as he nudged the vibrator against his sensitive slit.

His chest heaved as his body jerked, the sensation almost too intense. His reflection in the mirror was sinful, covered in sweat and his own fluid, all flushed and hard. His bright pink flesh stuck out starkly against his tanned skin. He gently pulsed the end of the vibrator against the sensitive underside of his head drawing little mewls and moans from his lips as the pleasure began to build again. Just like before he worked himself right up to the edge and then yanked the toy away right before he could fall over the edge, his angry purplish red cock twitching wildly at having denied himself again as his hips thrusted desperately into nothing.

Jake’s high pitched whimpers echoed in the otherwise mostly quiet room, melding with the soft music drifting from the speakers to create his own sinful melody. It seemed to him like it took longer to calm down this time than it had the last, for that heat in his belly to dissipate again. His ringed fingers trembled where they rested at his sides, curling into tight fists fighting the overwhelming urge to just let himself cum now.

A surprised grunt tumbled from his lips as he twitched, a thick gush of precum spilling from his slit, dripping down onto his thigh in a thick sticky strand. Knowing fully well he was alone but too far gone to stop himself he whimpered out a pitiful “please”.

His eyes rolled back with a low, drawn out moan bordering on a growl when he finally felt ready to continue, his cock throbbing in his grasp when he took it in his fist again. He admired the feel of his own silky soft skin in his hand, remembering how she was even softer.

He’d had enough with the slow build up, this time starting out with a steady pace and a firm grip. The wet sounds of his fist flying over his cock and his pleasured cries filled his ears, and he let the memories of her sweet moans play in his head. Sweat dampened his face, sticking strands of his hair to his heated cheeks and forehead. It dripped down his neck and chest to pool on his slightly soft tummy. His eyes fluttered closed as his cock throbbed, his thumb teasing his purplish red tip on each stroke.

When Jake felt that familiar heat spreading low in his belly yet again his hand briefly hesitated, debating whether he should just let go right then or drag it out a little bit longer. That brief second of hesitation was a second too long, his mind was made up for him as he felt his orgasm about to rip through him. Too close to turn back, it was unavoidable at that point.

His free hand scrambled over to the side of the bed for his little vibrator, turning it on to a low setting as quickly as he could as soon as he had it in hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He practically screamed out when he pressed the tip of the wand against the sensitive spot just behind his plush full balls. It had been a last second idea, attempting to replicate the feeling of her warm wet pussy wrapped around him so tightly, and also the dull vibrations of the toy that he could feel traveling through him while she pressed the toy down on her clit.

It proved to be very effective, nonsensical babbles and pleas mixed with various whines and keening cries tearing from his chest as his orgasm slammed into him hard. “Gonna cum, can’t hold it, fuck!” He gasped, his cock pulsing violently in his grasp as his fist continued flying over his shaft, beginning to spurt thick ropes of cum all over his belly. Stream after thick stream gushing from his flushed angry tip.

His body trembled with the intensity of his high, seeming to go on and on. The toy he held between his legs shook in his hand. His thick creamy cum splattering all over his tummy, a few stray spurts landed on his heaving chest.

He came so hard he swore he lost consciousness for a second, dripping with sweat and his own mess. Fully blissed out and dazed, one thing was for sure, he’d made sure it was worth the wait. His eyelids felt so very heavy already, the way his orgasm had wracked his entire body left him completely exhausted.

With the last of his energy Jake reached over to his bedside table once more and grabbed a few tissues to gently swipe up the drying cum from his sensitive skin, his poor spent cock already softening. He shivered from the feeling of the cool air hitting his sweat soaked skin, and he knew he’d have to shower later and he’d surely regret not just doing it then, but he had zero energy remaining. As he lay there panting, attempting to catch his breath, fucked out and hazy from the intensity of his orgasm he chuckled to himself, thinking ‘maybe I should call her’.

Tags: @gracev0609 @itsafullmoon @allof--mylove @jazzyfigz @lilbitx

[mirrorballpages]

Azriel leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as Cassian poured himself another glass of wine—his third bottle, at least. The conversation had dragged on for hours, moving in circles around the problems in Windhaven. Azriel had already gathered all the necessary intelligence, and Rhys had already made his decision, but Cassian, fueled by both frustration and alcohol, needed to vent.

It had been days since Elain’s vision, and Azriel was no closer to finding answers on the vines that surrounded her. He hated that. Hated that no matter how many books Clotho searched for, he still didn’t know exactly what was happening to her. The clock chimed nine, and a whisper curled against his ear.

She has moved to the kitchen.

Azriel barely resisted the urge to exhale in relief. The conversation at hand had shifted to Nesta, a discussion he wanted no part of. "I just don’t understand why she had to move out," Cassian grumbled, frustration thick in his voice.

Azriel pushed his chair back, standing smoothly. "You should ask her yourself," he murmured, already walking away. Rhys gave him a knowing glance but said nothing. His shadows trailed ahead, slipping through the townhouse like dark silk. She’s alone, they whispered.

Where were Nuala and Cerridwen? He assumed they had retired for the night, but he also selfishly didn’t care. The truth was, he wanted to be alone with Elain. The only times they had to themselves were those quiet, golden mornings in the garden, or the occasional late evenings once everyone else had gone to bed. Those hours before the rest of the house stirred, before duty or expectation pulled them apart.

He had learned her morning routine as intimately as he knew his own. She would wake just before sunrise, stretching lazily beneath her blankets before padding downstairs in a linen dress, her braid loose and sleep still clinging to her voice. She would grab a plate of breakfast, then head to the garden, humming softly as she worked. Azriel would always be waiting, perched on the garden bench or leaning against the wall, a fresh cup of tea already in hand for her. She always smiled when she saw him.

And that was why he left each morning before the others rose. Even if he slept in the House of Wind most nights, his mornings were with her. To keep it theirs. To keep this… whatever this was, private. Safe.

But tonight, alone in the kitchen, no one was here to witness them. When he stepped through the doorway, he saw her at the sink, the sleeves of her dress rolled up as she washed the last of the dishes. She turned when she heard him, smiling.

"Where are the twins?" he asked, reaching for a plate to dry. The dish towel felt almost foreign in his scarred hands—he was so used to using magic for small tasks like this. But if it meant more time with her, he’d dry every dish in the house by hand.

"I told them to go home. They work too much as it is," she said, glancing down at the soapy water. A small, hesitant pause. "Oh, I’m glad you’re here. I have a meeting tomorrow morning with a women - sorry, female - and her grandfather. They tend to a community garden in Riverbend Quarter, and it was damaged during the attack. I’m going to see if I can help."

A strand of hair slipped from her braid, curling against her cheek. She tucked it behind her ear, still looking at the water. "Do you mind showing me where it is? I haven’t been there before. If you’re too busy, I understand. I can ask Feyre—"

"Of course," he said before she could finish, careful to keep his voice even.

Inside, though? Fuck.

He could already see it...the way she’d look in the early morning light, her apron tied neatly over a soft linen dress, her hair woven into a braid but curling slightly at the ends. The way she’d hum as they walked, the city still quiet around them, her hand resting lightly on his arm, her touch sending warmth through his leathers and straight into his chest. She would stop to admire something, a bird, a patch of flowers, the way the light hit the rooftops just right. She always noticed things others didn’t. And he would watch her, pretending he wasn’t committing every little movement, every glance, every flicker of sunlight in her eyes to memory.

And if he were a luckier male…

He would pull her close, tilt her face toward his, and press his lips to hers, slow. His hands would be careful, tracing over the curve of her waist, memorizing the shape of her, the warmth of her. She would be soft beneath his touch, softer than anything he’d ever known, and he would hold her as if she were spun from the morning mist, something delicate that might slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful.

She would sigh against his lips, her breath warm, her fingers clutching at his leathers, pulling him closer. He would press deeper into her, his heartbeat hammering like war drums, his wings flaring slightly to balance himself—to ground himself—because touching her like this, having her like this, would unravel him completely.

He would whisper against her ear, his lips brushing that delicate skin, telling her how beautiful she was, how utterly magnificent she was. How he had spent centuries in darkness, but she—she—was the first light he had ever truly known. That she was more than just lovely, more than just kind, that she was extraordinary—the most divine thing he had ever beheld.

And she would look up at him with those soft, brown eyes, wonder pooling in their depths. She would smile, the kind of smile that could unmake a male, and it would be for him. Only for him.

He would kiss her again and again, pressing himself into her as if he could somehow etch himself into her soul, as if he could keep her forever. As if, for once in his life, he could have something good. Something his.

But then the vision would slip away, reality clawing its way back in, cruel and unyielding. Because he wasn’t that lucky.

Because she wasn’t his.

And so, instead of pulling her close, instead of tasting her, instead of worshipping her the way he ached to, he would keep his distance. He would let the silence stretch between them, his hands tightening on the dish towel instead of on her. And he would do what he always did—watch her from the shadows, longing for something he could never have. Because she deserved better than a male like him.

A timer dinged.

“Oh, the cookies are ready!” Elain sang, moving toward the oven, the soft swish of her dress brushing against the cabinets. The scent of oatmeal and melted chocolate filled the kitchen, warm and familiar. It was the kind of smell that made a place feel like home.

Azriel inhaled deeply. “Cassian’s favorite,” he murmured with a small smile.

Elain slid the baking sheet onto the counter, its edges gleaming in the dim kitchen light. “Don’t worry, I also made a few of yours,” she said, setting the tray down with a soft clink.

And there they were—two dark chocolate chip cookies, separate from the rest. For him. Azriel’s stomach tightened. It was such a small thing, insignificant to anyone else, but the fact that she had remembered, that she had thought of him as she baked—him, of all people—sent something warm unfurling in his chest.

Read The Rest on AO3

[silverbrain]

Your Light Can Thaw the Ice in my Veins

Author’s note- Xavier x Zayne idk why, this was rotting my brain so I had to get it out. MC is a side character, sorry.

Words- 3.4k

Xavier first met Dr. Zayne during his annual cardio checkup organized by the association. It was a routine thing, but his heart rate had caused the doctor to raise his eyebrows in concern.

"Was it like this last year?", he asked.

"I think so?", Xavier replied awkwardly.

"Do you ever feel dizzy or have you fainted?", Zayne asks, levelling his gaze with the hunter.

"No?"

Zayne looks at him questioningly. How the man was doing fine with a heart rate of 45 was confusing him.

"Have you had an ECG done before?"

"Yes", Xavier replied. "It's in my medical files...I think"

Zayne looks through the brief medical file on his table, sent by the Hunters Association. The last ECG had similar readings.

"I will have to send you to do another ECG and then...we'll decide what to do based on the results"

Xavier had thought much of it, but that hadn't helped his frustration when he had spent another two hours at the hospital. He felt fine. He should've been home two hours ago, napping.  When the receptionist called out to him, he knocked on the pristine white door to Zayne’s office. Zayne's face had twisted even further in concern.

"Your heart is beating really slow", Zayne begins.

"We need to find the cause and fix it"

Xavier frowns. He knows it's because his heart beats with Philos' energy, not Earth's but he doesn't find it necessary to go around telling people he's an alien. Sure, Dr. Zayne could prescribe whatever tests he liked. He was never going to show up to them anyways. He gets an appointment for the next week, another ECG. "If it doesn't find anything, we'll use a 24-hour monitoring method", Zayne had explained but Xavier was too busy thinking about the hotpot he was going to eat on the way home.

The week passes in a blur, and Xavier is exiting the association building on a Saturday evening, having happily skipped his Thursday appointment. He nearly runs into the doctor who turns a corner sharply.

"Oh, hello", Xavier greets politely.

Zayne nods politely before his eyes light up. "Xavier, right? You didn't come to see me"

"Uh...yeah, sorry. Work was...busy", he lies. It seems like the best option anyways.

"You really shouldn't ignore your health", Zayne says quietly, keeping his voice low. He's about to elaborate before MC exits the lift and calls out to him.

"Zayne!" And then, "...Xavier?"

Xavier had quickly taken his exit then, but luck was not going to allow him an easy escape. The Association sends him a notice regarding his health checkup which hadn't been submitted yet and it has him wandering the hospital's Cardiology ward on a Tuesday evening.

The ECG had been slow. Again. So, he had been sent to do an echocardiogram. It was getting ridiculous, really. Plus, he's lost. After finding his way back to Zayne’s office, he knocks. He confirms with a receptionist, who insists Dr. Zayne is free to see patients, so he knocks. Twice. Thrice, before he turns the handle to feel a biting cold waft through.

Did Zayne leave the window open? Even if he did, it's March. It can't be that cold.

Xavier sees the doctor sitting in his desk chair, leaning back, eyes closed, hands resting on the handles, stuck there by a thick layer of...ice? He can't help but watch. Shards of ice surround the doctor's body, and flurries of snow fly chaotically in the room. A grunt snaps him out of it. Zayne moves, almost imperceptibly, but enough for Xavier to see the way his throat hitches against the particularly large chunk of ice, the point nearly digging into his skin.

Xavier steps forward. "Doctor?" He grabs Zayne’s arm, and shakes him, only for the doctor to grunt and frown as if the action had caused him terrible pain. He moves, and Xavier brings his hands up to place them between the ice shard and the doctor's neck. "Doctor Zayne!"

Zayne seems to awaken then, jerking awake and breathing heavily. Green eyes dart across pale blue ones. "It's okay...I think you were having a nightmare?"

Zayne tries to sit up, keyword tries, because the ice restrains him, and his throat comes into contact with a warm hand instead. "Wait" Xavier wraps his hand around the icicle and breaks it. He continues breaking away pieces of ice as Zayne assesses the damage to his room.

"This was all you?", Xavier finds himself asking.

Zayne’s eyes meet his, and Xavier doesn't see fear. He sees...shame? Why would the doctor be ashamed?

They clean up in silence, before Xavier drops the file on Zayne's table. "Sign my health report...and I won't tell MC about this" 

Zayne cannot believe the young blonde with blue eyes and a heartbeat too slow to be healthy is threatening him.

"You can't...", he begins. Can't blackmail me, can't tell her, but Xavier is already turning to leave.

"Also, you can...take a workshop at the Association, you know. To control your Evol? "

x

Zayne stands at the centre of a circle. Why did he agree to this? He had thought long and hard when Xavier had left him that day. Mayve it wouldn’t hurt to take some classes on controlling his Evol. He didn’t want to, no, not at all. It took him back to his university days when Evol was the only class he barely passed. He thought about it all evening, when spending time with Miss Hunter. If she knew, she would…Zayne isn’t sure what she would do, but he tries not to dwell on it.  Plus, it would make him a hypocrite for not ‘taking care of himself’.

So, he’s here. Taking a crash course in Evol control organized by the Hunter’s Association. He’s carefully chosen a day when MC is off work. It goes alright. Turns out he’s not as bad as he thought he was. He just needed to practice something that was very akin to meditation and hypnosis which would help get his Evol more in check. He’s briskly walking towards the exit of the building when the corridors seem to circle into themselves and Zayne finds himself standing outside the elevator, wondering where he needs to go.

He's nearly relieved when he sees the blonde hunter walk by, “Dr. Zayne”

“Xavier…where is the exit?”, he asks.

“Oh. It’s on the first floor. You’re in the basement right now. Come, I’ll show you”

Zayne nods. He follows the man into the elevator. “So, here to meet MC?”

“No, I…I’m taking the Evol course”

“Oh”, Xavier turns to look at him, his eyes betraying the surprise he feels. “Good”

Zayne clears his throat. "Thank you for helping me that day", he says politely. “And…you can’t blackmail me. You’ll have to complete your tests”

Xavier sighs. “I…can’t. What if…I know the cause?”

Zayne looks at him in confusion. “The cause? Of your bradycardia?”

Xavier smiles. “Yes. My slow heart. I promise I’m okay”

The doors open and Xavier steps out, followed by Zayne. He follows the man out into the cold, crisp night air. “How about, I tell you over some hotpot?”

Zayne is caught off guard by that. Why would he accept to dine with his patient? A patient who had, not one week ago basically threatened him. But Zayne was a curious man, so he decided to give the man a chance. “Okay”

x

Steam wafts across the table at the hotpot place. Zayne nurses his food, waiting for Xavier to speak.

Xavier opens up an article on his phone to push it towards Zayne. He looks through it.

“Philos? The planet 80 light years away?”

“Hm”, Xavier hums in agreement over his mouth full of a soup dumpling. He swallows before continuing. “I’m from there”

Zayne looks at the man, unsure if he’s joking. “I’m not joking. And your reaction is why I don’t like to tell anyone this.”

Zayne simply eats his food to stall for time. “So…, you’re a time traveller?”

Xavier smiles. “Yes”

"I'm sorry. That day I was..." Blunt, threatening?  "I just...didn’t want to be called an alien”

Zayne huffs a laugh. “Who’s called you an alien?”

“People”

Zayne shakes his head. “So, you’re…not human?”

“I am! Just not from this timeline”

“Oh”, Zayne says, and then “How did humans evolve to have slower hearts?”

Xavier laughs, then he shrugs, “I don’t know, doc.”

Zayne signs off Xavier’s documents that evening, ignoring the hundreds of questions that still stir his mind. He tries to avoid it, he really does, but he’s a curious man, after all.

Zayne: Sorry if this is rude, but is your hair naturally silver?

Xavier replies to him the next morning.

Xavier: Can’t get enough of the alien huh?

Xavier: Yes, it is

x

Zayne is sweating. This Evol class is being a particularly tough one, since his teacher today is using some sort of Mind control Evol. Zayne thinks he can see the needles in his brain. He’s seeing visions of blue and his forearms feel cold, but the Hunter insists he should ‘fight it’.

He doesn’t pay any mind to the two hunters who slip in to watch him. The classes are held in a stadium like area, with seats towering in rows around them. A few hunters take their lunch breaks there, munching on a sandwich as they watch the chaos below them.

He had eventually ended up telling MC. He had conveniently hidden the frosty situation Xavier had found him in, and had explained that it was just something he had wanted to do.

The two Hunters watch him eagerly. Zayne fights his mind, while the Evolver attacks his mind with waves of fear. When he’s done, he sees two figures in the distance. MC waves at him and he finds his way over, squinting slightly.

“You’re doing great!”, she cheers happily. Zayne smiles. “You are”, Xavier adds.

The compliment means a lot to him. Over the past few weeks, Zayne has been asking Xavier so many questions. It started with curiosity and slowly spiralled into Xavier sending him medicine memes which made Zayne snort with amusement. He also sent the occasional, ‘r u still at work?’ when Zayne sent a particularly oddly timed text, and Zayne found it incredibly endearing. In turn, he told Xavier a little bit about the nightmares, a little bit about how his Evol sometimes felt like a curse instead of a power.

Zayne would certainly call Xavier a friend. He wasn’t sure if the hunter thought the same, though. Xavier, who was literally light personified, who people flocked to for help, who seemed so kind and nice, who would have so many friends, did he need another friend in his life? The thought caused Zayne to hold back on the texts sometimes.

So, when Xavier complimented him openly, it was new. It felt like he was sharing some of his light.

x

Zayne felt like his world was falling apart. His pager had beeped and he had been met with MC, who had injured herself yet again. She lay on the bed, unconscious. There had been an explosion, someone says in the background. A wound sprawled across her left shoulder, nearly exposing the bone.

“She’s lost a lot of blood”, the nurse informed him as they wheeled her into emergency surgery.

Zayne can only wring his hands and wait as he observes the operation. As her primary care physician and an expert in Protocore syndrome, he was supposed to be there, but there was hardly anything he could do in repairing a set of shattered bones.

Even after she had been patched up, Zayne paces the ICU with frenzied energy. It’s only when Dr. Greyson forces him to the cafeteria to sit down that he catches the news of the explosion. Zayne’s eyes widen at the size of the explosion. It looked so much worse than just a Wanderer attack. He’s staring at the screen when his blood runs cold. “Greyson…was she alone? Where’s her partner?”

“Who?”

Zayne stands up, feeling sick. He marches his way to the ICU to check the list of patients that had been admitted. He nearly breathes a sigh of relief before he goes to Emergency Surgery. Zayne has to physically remind himself to take a breath when he sees the name on the file- Xavier.

It had been a simple Wanderer attack. Then, it had turned into a difficult fight. Before you knew it, it had turned into a Security threat for Linkon. The Wanderers had attacked very close to the Linkon Research Lab, which had stored a great amount of rare protocores. The frenzied energy had nearly taken out the left wing of the building completely, and the energy released had caused a massive explosion, sending debris flying in all directions. Gravity Evolvers had tried their best to mitigate the damage, but the energy burst had dimmed all of their Evols. MC and Xavier had been in the midst of it, of course.

When the surgeon exits the operation theatre, Zayne is already busy in dealing with casualties, but he’s told a nurse to let him know. He rushes over immediately. “What’s the news?”

“You know him?”, Dr. Eron asks. “It’s…difficult to say”, he says quietly.

“What do you mean?”, Zayne asks, his voice quiet.

“It’s bad. We’ll just have to wait for him to wake up”

Zayne sits down. He has to, or he thinks he’ll faint. Both the people he loves, so badly hurt.

“Can I see him?”

Zayne isn’t sure if he can. He eventually makes his way over, after throwing himself into work for the next five hours, when his mind is numb and his body can barely move, but he stands at the end of the bed, staring at the chart.

He doesn’t know if he’s ready. Eventually, his eyes rake up to the figure lying in bed, amidst a dozen tubes poking out of him. A scrap of metal had cut down his hip and across his leg, leading to the blood loss. Plus, he had burns on the left side of his body from the explosion.  Zayne looked at Xavier's face- the muscles relaxed unnaturally as his soft hair lay matted and dirty. He reached a shaky hand out to clasp Xavier's, guilt and fear curling inside him like a coil.

"Get better. Please...", he couldn't hide the way his voice shook. "Please get better, Xavier"

When MC regained consciousness, Zayne was by her side immediately, making himself as useful as he could. He tried his best to control the shaking in his voice when MC asked about him. "Is he okay?"

"He's going to be fine", Zayne replies. He has to be.

x

A month later.

Xavier had recovered. So had MC. The two had got significant time off and despite having most of it under control, Zayne found himself driving over to the two whenever he was free. It only helped that they lived in the same building. Tara and Simone had set up camp at MC's, so Zayne made his way to the fifth floor, knocking once before opening the door to Xavier's apartment.

After a particular day when he had been knocking on his door in a panic, Zayne had convinced Xavier to give him a spare key to the place. He caught sight of a lump of blanket and a head of dishevelled hair and smiled.

The disaster had forced Zayne to step back and reevaluate. It had made him confront it. It had made him realize how much he cared. He cared so much about his man. The days after the accident had been steeped in guilt and restless nightmares for Zayne, ones in which he couldn't save the two. Ones in which he didn't even know Xavier had been injured at all, and he only found out after it had been too late.

In the past month, Zayne had found himself volunteering to help the man take a bath, or examine his wounds, and Xavier sheepishly accepted the help. It had been difficult to move with his whole leg stitched up, after all, and Zayne seemed eager.

Zayne places the box of takeout on the table and sits down at the edge of the couch, watching the blonde sleep peacefully. He was alive. He was so alive. Zayne busies himself with something before Xavier stirs awake. He raises his head from the blanket to look at Zayne blearily. "Zayne?"

"Hey, yeah you're awake", he tries to ignore the way his heart thuds in his chest. "I brought food"

Xavier's eyes travel to the bag on the table before he huffs quietly. "You didn't have to"

"Yeah, but you know, I had some free time, so I brought your favorite dumplings", he says.

"Really?"

Xavier sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You should've warned me. How long were you sitting there?"

"Not long", Zayne answers. His body itched to move closer to him, he didn't know why. Would hugging him be too much? Why did he want to hug the man?

Before he can think further, the doorbell rang to reveal three Unicorns hunters.

"Xavier!! How are you! And-Oh! Dr. Zayne"

Zayne feels incredibly out of place all of a sudden, among all the hunters. Xavier invites them in and they sit on the couch, Zayne shuffling closer to the man as much as he could, while Tara, Simone and MC sat down. Words flowed easily. Tara and Simone more than made up for Xavier and Zayne’s quietness, and MC knew them all, she was bubbliest of them all; soon the five were chatting cordially. Zayne slowly found his personal space being invaded by the hunter on his left, who had leaned over to show him something on his phone. Zayne found his attention shifting from the screen to Xavier's long eyelashes before he caught himself, wondering what the heck was happening to him.

Xavier’s hair was a little bit longer than usual and it hung shabbily on his neck. Zayne wanted to touch it. He swallowed nervously. It was more, it was so much more than care he felt for the man, and he was scared of what it meant. A flush crept up his neck at his own thoughts and he willed himself to look away.

x

The next week Zayne is sitting on Xavier’s bed, drying his hair. Not because he asked him to. He wanted to, of course, but Xavier wasn’t the type to ask for help. He had held the dryer up and winced in pain before continuing quietly, and Zayne had simply offered to do it for him.

Zayne allows himself to run his hands through the silver strands and wonders what it would feel like to just say it. The feelings are going to choke him. He swallows. “Are you going for a mullet?”

Xavier laughs. “Is it that bad?”

“No, it’s not bad”, Zayne assures him. The last thing he wants is to make the man feel self-conscious. “If anything, it’s cute”

He feels Xavier’s shoulders tense below him, before his fingers reach for a pack of Kitty Cards to fidget with. “Cute like a cat is?”

“Yes” And more, Zayne wants to say.

“You want to play cards?”, Xavier asks and who is Zayne to refuse him, really, so he sits down on the bed beside him.

“See now that’s just cruel”, Xavier laughs as Zayne destroys his cats for the third time in a row.

“What, you thought I’d go easy on you?”

“Wow, the doctor’s kindness only extends to the hospital doors”, Xavier complains.

Zayne laughs and Xavier watches. He had been watching for a while, now. At the way Zayne’s calm hands dressed his wounds, at the way his chest rumbled when he laughed, at the way his green gold eyes darted to his own when he made another dry joke.

Xavier leans forward, slowly, his hand resting on Zayne’s thigh, right above his knee, before he kisses him. Zayne feels his world stop. Xavier- powerful, beautiful Xavier- Xavier, who shone like light, was kissing him.

Then he pulls back a little too quickly, and Zayne realizes that he had frozen. He drops the cards, his hand coming up to grab the back of his neck snugly as he presses another kiss to his lips. And another. Till he’s smiling too much and Xavier is giggling softly.

“I like kissing you”, Zayne says, breathlessly, dumbly.

Xavier laughs breathily, “That’s good”

usually i don't ship the Lis but these two are so quiet and gentle and i couldn't help but do this, was it alright?

[chaoticallykinkygrem]

Nobleflower??? (please I am desperate for nobleflower NSFW content at this point I have way too many scenarios but theyre getting old—)

Ok so I’m ngl to you. I had to do some research for this ship as I didn’t even know who it was really when you sent it to me 😭 (thank @rablovergirl for having the answers) but after my research I feel I can no give a good smutty and sad micro fic just for you 🙂‍↕️

Nobleflower | NSFW with angst

She can’t keep doing this. She knows she can’t keep doing this. Yet here she is again with Narcissa Black of all people sitting on her face, moaning her name, and grabbing her hair.

“Fuck yes Alice! Just like that baby…” Narcissa moans out her encouragements, softly grinding down on her lovers tongue. Instead of doing the smart thing Alice knows she should do, she pulls Cissa in more and starts fucking her like her life depends on it. Maybe it does though. Alice can feel the heat between her legs, the wetness trailing down her thighs, and can only assume that she will die if she doesn’t taste her lovers cum within the next five minutes. Though she doubts it will take five minutes as she can feel cissa starting to pulse around her and grind down harder.

“Gods I’m- I’m so close! Don’t you dare stop-” Cissa threatens even though they both know she’s all bark. Alice, being the good girl she is, doesn’t stop and keeps going, knowing she’ll get her own relief soon.

Before long, Alice can feel Cissa’s thighs tightening, her cunt clenching tighter, and finally she hears her named being moaned so loud she fears everyone will be able to hear them. This doesn’t make her stop though, no, she keeps tongue fucking Cissa until she’s whining and pulling off from overstimulation.

“Alice stop. I- fuck I need to breathe for a second love” Cissa practically begs, getting off of Alice’s face and instead moving to straddle her hips before collapsing against her chest. Alice can only grin and lick her lips while Cissa slowly kisses her way up her neck.

“Do you want my help baby? Or did you-” She’s stopped mid sentence though, only a breath away from Alice’s ear, as a phone alarm starts going off. Cissa sits up to grab the phone quickly, not wanting to ruin the mood but as she looks down at Alice she knows it was ruined after the first ding.

“Ten already?” Alice says with a sad smile. “I guess that means you have to go right? Can’t be getting home late.”

“Alice I… you know I can’t stay here. I have to go home eventually.” Narcissa says as she gets up and starts looking around for her clothes.

“Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s engaged to someone else?”

Narcissa turns around slowly, trying to hold back tears by glaring at Alice. “That’s not fair Alice. You knew this was always going to happen. We both knew my responsibilities and duties. I warned you. You can’t blame me for what I said would happen happening.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this cissa. I don’t know how much longer I can watch you kiss that man and pretend to love him. I can’t keep going to sleep with you here and waking up to you gone. I just… I’m not that strong.” She’s been holding in these feelings for months now and while now is not the greatest of times, Alice cant find it in herself to censor herself. Instead of watching narcissa get dressed, Alice just stares at the floor, trying to forget the pain and heartache this has already caused her.

“What are you saying then Alice?”

“I’m saying that you need to choose. Either stay with me here or go back to Malfoy and choose him.” Alice didn’t want to know the answer but she couldn’t keep doing this. She couldn’t keep breaking her heart every time narcissa left her. She just couldn’t. Instead of hearing an answer all she hears is the door opening and closing. Leaving her alone. Again.

[taylorsgfz]

Coachella ♡

— taylor x gf !

summary: you and taylor try to enjoy a night at coachella, but taylor notices an artist hitting on you.

12th April meant it was the first day of the Coachella Festival of 2024.

You and Taylor had bought tickets for the three days. Taylor was more excited about the first day due to Lana performing and you were more excited about the last day of the Festival due to Reneé Rapp performing, so the easiest way out was to buy tickets for the whole Festival right away.

— Babe, are you ready? — as soon as you called Taylor, she came up running upstairs, dressed up like a frat boy, but definitely in a hot way.  — Wow.

— Oh, you're to talk. — she looked you up and down a couple times, observing the way your dress fitted you like skin, before she grabbed your waist and pulled you into her arms. — I kinda wanna stay home now...

— And what would you tell Lana? She's counting on you being there. — you laughed, caressing her head in a gentle way.

— Oh I'm sure she would understand. — Taylor started a soft and slow kiss that quickly escalated as soon as she entered your mouth with her tongue.

You knew your girlfriend well enough to be sure you two would in fact be staying at home that night if you didn't interrupt the kiss as soon as you got the chance.

— Let's go, chop chop. — you said, making Taylor giggle a little before holding your hand so you could leave the house.

• • •

You two arrived at the Festival near 5pm and you had to look at the performances schedules to find out who would be singing on the various stages at that time so you could pick an artist. The only one who really caught your attention was Chappell Roan, an artist you had recently started listening to.

A few people stopped to take pictures with Taylor and she made sure to include you in some of them. Taylor hated when someone stopped her and simply ignored your presence and although you definitely understood that you were not famous and that people wanted a picture with Taylor and Taylor only, your girlfriend knew all too well the feeling of being excluded and didn't enjoy the idea of doing that to the woman she loved.

When you finally arrived at the VIP area of the stage, Chappell Roan was already performing, which made Taylor feel a little guilty about you being late to see the artist you wanted.

— I'm sorry for making you lose the beggining of the show. — Taylor whispered in your ear while holding your waist gently from behind, making sure you two stayed close to each other.

— That's okay, honey. — you turned around for a split second to place a kiss on Taylor's lips.

You two enjoyed the show to dance for a while and you were even able to teach Taylor the Hot To Go dance before Chappell could sing it.

The trouble started when the singer performed After Midnight. Chappell got close to the edge of the stage, near the VIP area and there were absolutely no doubts that she was singing for you when she dropped to her knees and winked at you.

"But, baby, I like flirting, a lover by my side, can't be a good, good girl, even if I tried".

Taylor did not like that one bit. But things started to get worse when, suddenly, Chappell looked right into Taylor's eyes and sang:

"I kinda wanna kiss your girlfriend if you don't mind, I love a little drama, let's start a bar fight. 'Cause everything good happens after midnight".

She knew she had to control herself. She was a public figure, in a public space full of people. But Taylor couldn't help her sudden moves of her body when her arms grabbed yours so she could turn you around to face her.

— Hey, what was that for? — you questioned her, althought keeping a smile on your lips by the the way Taylor was holding your waist so tight.

—She's clearly hitting on you and I'm doing my best to keep it cool because it would be awful to start screaming at a singer when she's performing, wouldn't it? — she answered, showing a fake and forced smile to pretend nothing was happening.

You couldn't help but giggle a little while also caressing her cheeks with your hands.

— I love my jealous Taylor. — you smiled before initiating a kiss. Nothing too intense but definitely enough to make Chappell realize that was your answer.— Feel better?

—Only if you make that again in front of her face. — Taylor mumbled.

When she stared at Chappell again, she was still smirking at you. Taylor started to feel her blood boiling inside her.

— Babe, can we—

— We can. Let's find another performance to attend, this is a Festival after all. — you completed, not needing Taylor to finish her sentence to realize what she wanted.

You grabbed your girlfriend's hand and left that area. After a few minutes walking, you ended up at Sabrina Carpenter's performance.

— Okay we should be fine here. She's straight as a ruler and almost our daughter, there's no way she'll be hitting on one of us. — you messed around with Taylor while she was positioning herself behind you again and placing her hands on your waist.

After rolling her eyes for a bit too long, Taylor answered:

— You're lucky I love you, you know? I still need to find a way of solving this though. Do you think it's possible to make a music video like the Taste one but with no kiss and where I win and kill her?

You simply laughed at your girlfriend's stupid idea that surprisingly met the moment Sabrina started to sing Taste.

— Do you actually believe I want any other woman when my girl is Taylor Swift? Don't be silly, honey. — you turned your head a little to kiss her again before you could enjoy the rest of the Festival.

However, the only thing going on Taylor's mind for the rest of the night was how she wanted to find Chappell and give her the drama she wanted so much when she sang After Midnight to her.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

[altacctforastarion]

Hey! Love your Astarion works! I was wondering if I could request a nsfw fic of Astarion and the reader 69ing? I was reading through your recent headcanons and it made me realize I’ve never seen an Astarion fic including that before. Thanks for considering my request! :)

Hey anon! Thanks for requesting, I’d actually thought about writing a fic including it so thank you for the excuse! I set this post-game, I think it’d be neat if Astarion could be a magistrate again (I know nothing about magistrates/dnd legal systems tho so it’s vague as HELL), so like y’all have a cute lil house in the city and Astarion is a late night magistrate. Just for fun. Also:

I think 69 only happens when he’s not the dominant one tbh, any other time I think he wants to see you while he goes down, so he just won’t let you, but if you’re in charge he lets you decide. And if you decide you want him whimpering while he pleases you, he whimpers while he pleases you 🤷🏻 so here is Sub!Astarion 69ing!

Warnings: 18+ obvi, mdni, oral sex (both receiving), Sub!Astarion, 69ing, blood drinking during sex, slight praise kink (he receives), you’re a super soft dom, AFAB reader, no pronouns for you and no use of y/n. Not edited at all, please tell me if there are any awful typos

Edit: forgot about tag list:

@lotus-ignis @astari0nsju1ceb0x

If you want to join the list dm/reply/or leave a note in my inbox!

Astarion was quiet, sitting up in your shared bed with a book on his lap and a scowl on his face, he’d barely spoken since he’d returned to your home from work, giving you a tired, half-hearted smile and a “Hello, darling” and then having a long bath with a glass of wine. You’d given him space, waiting in the bedroom for him to come to bed.

When he’d joined you, wearing only underwear and a silk black robe, he’d kissed you, a simple peck on your lips, and then picked up his book, reading in his unusual silence. He doesn’t like to talk much when he’s had a bad day, both because of a need for decompression, and because he doesn’t want to give himself an opportunity to lash out at you.

It had only happened once, and he’d only given a snarky reply to a question you’d asked when he got home, an apology on his lips as soon as he realized what he’d done, but since then he’s been careful, calming himself before he tells you all the details, relaxing at least a little before he allows himself to interact with you how he usually does.

You keep yourself busy with your own book, until you hear him close his book and speak, agitation coloring his tone, “Someone lost all of my paperwork before I got there, and it was a pain to find them. Everyone I dealt with today was an idiot, and there I was, in charge of all of the idiots with my lost paperwork. And now I’m home, with you, and I still feel that weight instead of relaxing. Come here, would you?”

You put your book on your nightstand and move over to him, going in for a cuddle but he pulls you to him and kisses you, gentle at first but then there’s hunger, his tongue pushing into your mouth. He pulls you until you’re on top of him, his hands on your hips, and the kiss breaks as you adjust, your legs on either side of him. An idea hits you, as you look down at him, at his tired eyes and the tension that lingers on his face, “Would you want to change how we do this? You could just lay back and let me take care of you?”

He looks surprised at first, and then it’s masked by flirtatious confidence, “How sweet of you, darling. How would you “take care of me”, exactly?”

Your skin flushes, and he eyes your neck, watching the blood go to your cheeks, “We don’t have to, I just… when I was leading back then, right before we fought the brain it was nice when you made the decisions in bed, I just did what you wanted and let you have your way with me. I thought maybe I could do that for you? If you want to. If not I’m perfectly happy with-“

“You avoided my question. How would you take care of me, if I allowed it?” You catch the word allowed, and realize he’s not teasing you, not trying to pull dirty talk from your lips, he’s being cautious. He’d been used and abused for years, all while retreating into his mind and he won’t have that happening again. No, if you have control over him it’s because he let you, not because you took it, and no matter how much he loves and trusts you he needs details.

“I’d use my hands, or my mouth, or maybe both on you, and when you fucked me we’d do it like this, with me on top and you can just lay there and let me. I’d tell you beautiful you look under me,” You move down, his face in your neck and your lips to his ear, “I’d let you drink from me like this, while I’m on top of you, and maybe you’d be inside of me. I’ll do whatever you want, Star, you can just ask and I’ll give you anything. You can relax and let me please you, the only work you’d have to do is drinking from me.”

His hands grip your hips tightly, and when you move again, so you can look at him, and he looks significantly more interested in your offer. “You’ll stop if it’s too much? If I don’t like it?”

“Of course, same as always. If you aren’t enjoying something let me know and it stops right away.” You reach for his face, cupping his jaw, “We don’t have to do this either, it’s all for you, what do you want?”

“I..I want you that, it would be nice to stop thinking for a bit. Have your way with me, love.” He says the first part tentatively, but he’s smiling flirtatiously when he finishes speaking, and you smile back at him, eager to start.

You climb off of him and remove your clothes, urging him to do the same, and he teases you about your eagerness, telling you if you wanted a taste of him so bad you could have simply asked, laughing when you throw your shirt at him in response.

—

Astarion’s gasps are constant, in time with every time you let him into your throat, his hips bucking against your hands that are keeping him mostly still. He’s deep in your throat when his hands bury themselves in your hair, your name coming out in a low moan before he speaks, voice hoarse, “D-darling,” He cuts himself off with another moan, followed by a curse as you swirl your tongue around the sensitive head of his cock and look up at him, “Darling- oh, gods do that again.”

You’d hollowed your cheeks, sucking him into your throat on a slow descent, your tongue licking at the underside of his cock, and when you repeat it he whines, high in his throat, and his hands pulls your hair lightly. He lets out a shaky breath when you pull back, letting his cock slip free from your mouth, and looking down at you with a vaguely scandalized look on his face.

“You were trying to say something, I didn’t want to distract you. What were you about to say, Astarion?” You smile, and he glared down at you.

“I was going to say I wanted to return the favor, but then you decided to be a devil.” Dramatics aside, he still looks down at you with want.

Your hand ghosts over his cock, fingers trailing up and down with light touches, just to watch him squirm, enjoying the redness on his face afterwards, and you continue with your teasing touches while you speak, “You want me to stop doing this? Or were you asking for that after this?”

“I- gods I don’t know. Don’t make me choose, you’re in control tonight.” His eyes flick away from yours, and you can sense giving up that control is difficult, he’s making an active choice to leave things to you.

Not wanting to give him time to linger, you lick a stripe up his cock and take him into your hand as you feel his thighs shake just slightly. You stroke him slowly, your grip firm as you contemplate, feeling the ache of your untouched cunt. “I saw a painting at a brothel once- don’t ask, I won’t tell you. A woman was on top of a man, using her mouth on him while he used his on her. Would you want to try that? It’s completely fine if not, but if you don’t you’ll have to wait to return the favor, I’m not done with you yet.” You finish your sentence with your thumb circling the head of his cock, and he lets out another low moan, whispering your name like a curse afterwards, like it’s the only thing in his mind. His head has fallen back on the pillow, and you can see as his eyes close, his lashes fluttering against his reddened skin.

You continue to stroke him as you wait for a reply, and you speed up when his hips buck up, a little high-pitched sound leaving his throat before he speaks, “You’re in charge.” He says it like he can barely force out the words, lost in the pleasure you’re providing. He makes a needy sound when you let go of his cock despite giving you the okay to change things up, and you can’t help but to lean down and lick up his cock again before you move to get into the position you’d described. He gasps, and his hips chase your lips but you’ve already moved away with a smile at him, at the desperate look in his eyes as he looks at you.

—

You breathe out a little laugh as you attempt to get into the foreign position, feeling a little silly at how you’re moving while you arrange yourself. And you hear him sigh, amused, “Can’t you take anything seriously?”

He helps you get your legs on either side of his head and when his breath ghosts over your core, you lose your humor, a little gasp leaving your lips. “Is this ok? Are you comfortable?”

He doesn’t respond verbally, instead you feel his hands on your hips, and then he pulls you down, his tongue delving into your folds immediately, none of the normal teasing as he licks you with fervor, his moan matching yours as he tastes your wetness on his tongue.

You let yourself drop to your elbows, a hand coming up to move his cock before taking him into your mouth, feeling him moan against you, the vibrations stimulating your clit wonderfully, you begin to move your head, and you feel him move his head before his tongue pushes into your entrance, and your hips move on their own accord, grinding down on his face before you catch yourself. His cock leaves your mouth with a wet pop as you lift your body up. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful!”

He sounds starved when he answers, pleading, “Please do that again.”

You flush again, and hesitantly lower your hips to his face, listening to him moan when he returns to his task, his tongue entering you, and you slowly, carefully, grind down on his tongue, a moan ripping from your throat at the feeling of it inside you. You do it again, just as slow before he pulls your hips down and rocks your cunt against his mouth with force, before letting you go, a clear indication of what he wants from you.

You take the suggestion as you take his cock back into your mouth, letting your hips roll against him with a little less fear of hurting him, and you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. You fuck your own throat with his cock, rocking forward to take it in deeper and rocking backwards onto his face after, and you feel the little sounds he’s making against your cunt even though you can’t hear them.

You hear the loud whimper he lets out when you focus on the head of his cock, feel how his tongue falters in its movements for just a second when yours laps at him. He won’t last long like this, and you fight the urge to ask him if this is how he’d like to cum, reminding yourself that you’re in charge. You decide you want him to cum inside you instead, and you pull off of his cock, a loud whimper coming from him, “Will you make me cum, love? Then I’ll ride you while you drink?” You lift your hips up slightly, to give him the option to refuse or voice his approval, half expecting him to just pull you down again.

“Please let me?” He pleads, his hands gripping your hips.

“Let you do what love?” You ask, confused, your hips lifting up a bit more, and his grip gets tighter as you hear him whine.

“I want you to cum like this, please. Use- use my mouth.” He sounds desperate for it, like he wants nothing more, not even bothering to acknowledge the rest of your proposition.

You let out a little moan, loving every little bit of his desperation for you, and lower your hips again. He sucks at your clit greedily, tongue flicking against you and you moan and you lean down to lick at his dripping cock, little tongue flicks that match his, and you feel his whimpers as you let him back into your mouth.

You get close quickly, moaning around his cock and rocking back on his face, feeling and hearing the desperate sounds he makes against your pussy. You feel his tongue enter you again and that’s all it takes, crying out as you cum on his face, letting his cock fall out of your mouth, licking at it while you recover.

He doesn’t stop immediately after he’s worked you through it, and you gasp and twitch from sensitivity, lifting your hips up and feeling his tongue chase you.

You move off of him, your wobbly knees making it difficult but he helps you, until you’re on the bed next to him. Your hand cups his jaw, the other going to his curls, playing with them, “Are you alright, love? How are you feeling?”

“Like you should have shared your brothel knowledge sooner. Kiss me, please?” He asks, already reaching for you. You give him what he wants, of course, laying down next to him and letting him pull you in for a kiss. His tongue briefly dipping into your mouth, your taste on his tongue, before he breaks the kiss. “I’d like to be in you now, if that’s ok?”

“Of course, Star.” You kiss him again, for just a second before straddling him, his cock wedged in between his stomach and your pussy, “You’re doing great for me, my love. So fucking good, just for me.“

Astarion’s face flushes again, “Yes, yes. Now get to it.” After a delay, and the twitch of his cock giving away how much he enjoys the praise, he amends, “Please, darling?”

You lean down to kiss him as you line his cock up with your entrance, and your tongue enters his mouth as you sink down on him, swallowing his groan. His hands go back to your hips, and you have a new idea, “Would you like for me to hold you down? I could hold your hands?”

“If you’re gentle, we can try it.” He looks a little anxious, but excited, and you’re slow as you go for his hands, your fingers sliding in between his when you’ve moved them to the bed on either side of his head. You apply light pressure, and rock down on his cock, before riding him slowly, just a few thrusts to see how he feels about your new position. He attempts to move his hands, you barely let them raise an inch before they’re back against the bed, he groans, “Gods, yes, that’s good. I like that.”

“So good, Star, letting me try new things on you. So pretty.” You praise, before you start riding him, and the angle has his cock hitting that spot inside you on every thrust. You gasp as you start to speed up, and he lets out a little whine. You watch his eyes close, lost in his pleasure, and his hips buck against you occasionally, his cock pushing into you just right.

You wait until you’re both getting close before you let go of his hands, and his eyes open in surprise, but you just smile at him and cup his jaw again, “Would you like to drink from me?”

“Please.” His voice comes out in another whine, and you lean down, pulling his head and upper body up towards you as you continue to grind on his lap.

You’re so close, and when his fangs pierce your neck, you cum, gasping from the sensitivity as you continue to move on his cock, and you feel him moan against your neck as you clench around him.

He hips thrust up into you while he drinks, before he shudders and cums, and you feel him lapping up the blood that spills freely while he’s distracted. You stay on his cock, petting his hair while he finishes drinking from you, his cock slowly softening inside you.

When he’s done you start to move off of him, to get clean and help him do the same, but his arms wrap around you, his face still buried in your neck, “Stay, please?”

“Of course, my love. Are you alright?”

“Just you, like this.” He breathes in your scent deeply, his lips on your lightly bleeding pulse, “Thank you for this, love. I..I really needed it.”

“Thank you for trusting me, beautiful. I’m glad it helped.”

[mangocurist]

eb100 watofies makes me want to bashmy head into the wall

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˚ ꩜ ｡ꕤ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔꩜⋆.ೃ❀｡ꕤ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˚ ꩜ ｡ꕤ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔꩜⋆.ೃ❀｡ꕤ 𐰁 𝗓 ᶻ

Wato sees him before she really recognizes who it is. It’s a bit of an out of body experience, if she has to describe it— the familiar sight of fluffy brunette hair with the genetically modified dog ears sticking up in curiosity and hairclips stolen from Ken’s stash of decoration in their home, accompanied by the backlighting of the setting sun’s harsh red-orange glow doesn’t ring a bell for her until she catches sight of his eyes, almost glowing in the dimness of shadows. 

She would recognize those soft, purple eyes anywhere, and maybe it’s partly because she’s been half dreaming about him and half dreaming about Ken, but Wifies’s eyes feel more familiar to her than anything. 

As she nears, he seems to take notice of where exactly he is. He looks around, disoriented, before his eyes land on Wato, and then, as if a switch were flipped, Wifies’s face breaks out into a small, sweet smile, one that Wato feels confident in saying is solely reserved for her and Ken. Well— right here, right now, it’s only for her. 

After all, Ken didn’t stay long enough for Wifies to show up, did they? 

The thought makes something in her chest hurt a little, and she tries to focus back on Wifies himself. She’s both glad to see him and nauseous at the sight of him. 

Why is he here? What— had something happened? Had Ken told him to come visit? No, there was no way— they would never allow Wifies to put himself in the path of danger, and though there was no true ‘danger’ here, the loneliness was suffocating, and the amount of hard labour Wato had made herself do to stay sane wasn’t suitable for Wifies, his hands only having ever known the intricacies of an escape room Wato had made for him.

He’s here again. In a place you’ve made for him.

“Wato!” Wifies calls, making her ear twitch and snapping Wato out of her own spiraling thoughts. It brings a smile to her face, how familiar it is. How good Wifies is at bringing her— and Ken, occasionally— back to themselves when they stray a little far from their minds. Maybe— maybe, if she plays her cards right, Wato can keep him here, and keep him safe, and escape with him in tow. She can show Ken that this wasn’t a hopeless expedition, that it wasn’t all for nothing, and that in the end, it was Wato who’d won their wordless bet.

A few blocks away from her now, Wifies steps off the small grass platform that had somehow been formed at spawn— probably a product of the endermen picking up all of Wato’s fucking dirt all the time— to walk toward her, stopping just a block away. “Ah— you look…”

“Like shit, probably,” she coughs, trying to play it off as she widens the distance between them just slightly. Wifies smiles hesitantly, though he doesn’t make any move to get closer.

It isn’t— it’s not him. Just for the record. It would never be Wifies who made her uncomfortable.

 Wato just— she just doesn’t want Wifies to touch her. She’s— she’s a bit afraid, she thinks, that she’ll make him dirty in turn. After all, she’s just spent some… fifty, sixty something days piling dirt and grass with her bare hands. The amount of grime underneath her nailbeds could probably host a small colony of bacteria at the rate she’s going. It probably already is.

And Wifies, who’s standing in front of her now, is so… he’s so different. From all of this. From her.

Untouched by the coldness and emptiness of the End Barrens, he’s warm now— more alive than he had been when she’d first met him properly, with Ken beside the both of them— in a way that Wato cannot be. Maybe will never be, if she can’t find a way to access the Nether before these hundred days are up. Wato is an empty vessel, and Wifies is one newly filled to the brim, and she can’t bear the thought of forcing him to give up his own being to help her.

So she just shrugs. “I’ve… spent a lot of time here, on my own. It’s— well, dirty. I guess. Easier for only one of us to have to take a deep-cleaning shower when we get out, right?” 

Wifies’s eyes soften, as if he understands what Wato isn’t saying. “Makes sense. So… with all the time you’ve spent here, mind showing me around the place a bit?”

Wato tries not to get self-conscious of the way her tail immediately pricks up when he asks, curling it behind her back in a show of embarrassment when Wifies smiles gently. “Yeah! Yeah. I can… I’ll do that. Just— don’t. Uh. Get lost or anything. Stay… stay by my side, okay?”

“Of course,” Wifies says as his arm stutters in an aborted motion to grab Wato’s hand. “I… can do that.”

“Okay. Okay. Then— first things first, I should show you the watchtowers.”

And as they walk in the dim light of the setting sun, she doesn’t yet notice how his arm brushes past her with no contact, or how his image grows hazier when they approach water. Because when she does… that’s when she’ll have to accept it.

Even he left in the end. What more do you have left, but your own stubborn need to finish this?

She doesn’t answer.

Still, for the time being— Wifies is here. And Wato—

Wato is none the wiser.

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek: March 19

2019

A Very Unfortunate Turn of Phrase [david/patrick, M, 648] by bigficenergy

Patrick is willing to let David win an argument, but at the cost of winding him up about something else.

Meet the Parents [david/patrick, M, 17,570] by @kelbottumbles @stargatewars

David has arranged for Patrick's parents to come to town for Patrick's surprise party. The only problem is that Patrick hasn't come out to them yet. Basically our imagining of what will happen in S05E11 'Meet the Parents'.

2020

Don't We Always Find a Way to Carry On [david & alexis, T, 4,958] by @doublel27

Johnny dropped the suit jacket and stood up, wiping his hands on his slacks. He wouldn’t look David in the eye. “Well, uhhh, you should know that she and Artie—” Dear God! David pursed his lips, sucking them between his teeth. He dipped a little, hands moving in tandem with his body. “We all know it’s not really about Artie.” A gurgle followed by a hiss signaled the water in the shower starting while David and his father stared at each other. Within a few seconds, his father started fidgeting, arranging his suit and glancing to the door. “I have some things—” David closed his eyes and threw his head back. This was how things went. Alexis was his job; she had been since the day they’d put her crib in the nursery with him. David opened his eyes, lips working overtime as he nodded, refusing to look at his father. “Yeah. Yup. Mmmhmm.” or Whenever Alexis falls apart, David is there to pick up the pieces. When things are really bad, though, he lets her wear his clothes.

keep my spirit strong, you do [david/patrick, T, 5,925, CW: eating disorders]

David has a very small, on-and-off problem. Or he used to. Patrick tries to make the burden a little lighter.

Privacy [david/patrick, G, 7,503/art] by another_Hero

artist!David gets back into old practices, joins an art community, and opens up a little

2021

Ghana [gen, G, 300] by Rosey_Peach

Honeymoon, what honeymoon?! [david/patrick, G, 1,024] by Rosey_Peach

However, things had taken a would-be-funny-if-you-weren’t-David-Rose turn of events when Patrick awoke early the day after saying goodbye to his in-laws and had a sudden and horrible thought… were they even legally married?!

Language of Love: Part 4 (Season 5) [david/patrick, NR, 404,785] by PandorasDaydream

This series (Part 4) starts before 5.01 and will meander through season 5.++++Chapter 1 starts not long after the ending of LOL: Part 3 Chapter 8. David and Patrick spend time together, working together, and navigating their relationship.

2022

[podfic] You Can Still Be Free [david/patrick, E, podfic, CW: rape/non-con, suicidal ideation] by HowOldAreWe

There were certainly prescient hints about David’s obligation to follow all commands given to him. For one, his own irritability over wanting to say no sometimes but seemingly being unable to do so. A modern-day AU in which David is cursed to follow any command he’s given, and the stark, rippling consequences of such a burden. Inspired by Ella Enchanted.

leave it all behind, and there is happiness [david/patrick, G, 1,057] by patrickbrewer

It hurts like absolute hell, knowing that she has spent at least a decade loving someone who could never love her back. Knowing that she has spent long, drunken nights alone in her apartment wondering when the hell everything would fall back into place. Knowing that she is going to have to travel home alone and come to terms with the fact that the future she thought she had all figured out is actually never going to come to fruition.

Lines [david/patrick, NR, 414] by @tyfinn

Patrick and David are in line to meet Patrick's baseball hero. David has a realization about his mother.

Wake Me Up Inside (Save Me) [david/patrick, E, 4,637] by px_papercrown

It's not often but sometimes, on special, random, not quite out-of-the-blue days, David will wake his husband in his husband's favorite way.

2023

Fall On Me, With All Your Light [david/patrick, M, 46,877] by @statueinthestonetoo

Patrick and Rachel are a married Hutterite couple who are unable to have a baby. Patrick isn’t really sure he wants one but he loves her and he cares about what she wants, so he makes a call. Then David Rose shows up at his house and everything changes. Or a story about finding love where you least expect it.

Wash Away My Sorrow [david/patrick, M, 100] by @legalgal421

It’s raining. There’s some feelings.

we should totally just STAB CAESAR! [david & twyla, G, 1,100] by @sarahlevys

"Welcome in!" Twyla waves to them both, then gestures to the chalkboard. "And a very happy Ides to you both!" She pauses, thinking, then says, "Or are the Ides of March about being sad?" Patrick's lips are twitching. David, though, is fixated on the chalkboard. "Since when do you have an Ides special?" "Since today!" OR: After Twyla learns that David loves the Ides of March, she organizes a little surprise for him with Patrick's help.

2024

Mr. Brewer, Mr. Rose [david & stevie, T, 57,893] by @colourcodedbinders

When the bell rings at exactly 8:15 am, just as it does every single day, just as it has every single one for the past three years David’s spent at this job, he can’t help but wonder how, of all the places in the world, he ended up teaching at Schitt’s Creek high school. It’s not that this is the worst job he could’ve had — quite honestly, all things considered, it’s a pretty good gig.The school is at a humble ten minute drive from his apartment, the staff is small enough that he can usually comfortably pick his courses, and David will admit, if absolutely hardpressed about it, that maybe, maybe he finds a modicum of self-satisfaction in being a tenured resident of the Schitt’s Creek High English Department. But still — 8-fucking-15 am. OR David Rose is a high school teacher. A new substitute shows up one day, and it absolutely doesn't ruffle any of his feathers at all. Not even a little. Because he's a seasoned professional.

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017 or 2018 2019: 2 fics/18,218 words 2020: 3 fanworks (2 fics, 1 fic/fanart combo)/17,756 words 2021: 3 fics/406,114 words 2022: 4 fanworks (3 fics, 1 podfic)/6,191 words 2023: 3 fics/48,077 words 2024: 1 fic/57,893 words Total: 16 fanworks (14 fics, 1 fic/art combo, 1 podfic)/554,249 words

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Yuletide Chapter 2

I started this back in November, but obviously didn't finish it in time for the holidays. But I hope y'all will like it anyways.

Summary:  Mr. Strange and his nephew Mr. Barnes were…different.  The little town of Concord, Massachusetts isn’t used to the pharmacists’ strange ways, with rumors swirling of wizards and magic spells.  Y/N doesn’t believe in any of those old folk tales, but does feel a pull towards Mr. Barnes, despite his standoffishness.  Maybe his heart will melt during the most wonderful time of the year.  Or maybe she’ll fall head first into a fantastical world she never thought possible.

*Set in early 1800s America

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“What do we do?”

“Hell if I know…you’re sure she saw?” “Yes.”

“Shit.”

Y/N frowned, her eyelids feeling heavy.  She was shivering but covered by something weighted and warm.  The voices she heard were hushed and frenzied.  

“Maybe she’ll be a friend.  She seems much more amenable to us than the rest of the people here.”

“Oh please.  She’s not any different from them.”

“You rob yourself when you refuse to see the good in others.”

“There’s nothing good to find.”

“Bucky…”

Her eyes snapped open.  All her memories came rushing back and she gasped, pulling herself up and scrambling away from the voices.

“Woah!  Miss Y/L/N!” Mr. Strange’s voice called out behind her.

There was a clambering behind her and she tumbled off the bed she was on, crawling away to the wall across from her and quickly turning to face them.  Bucky and Mr. Strange were wide eyed, staring at her in shock, concern and trepidation.  Her head pounded with the effort of moving so fast after having been previously knocked out and she groaned, leaning against the wall for support but trying to keep her eyes open.  

“Stay away!” she yelled, one hand on her forehead and the other stretched out in front of her.  She tried to look around but didn’t recognize the bedroom she was in.  “Where…where am I?  What…?”  

“It’s okay,” Mr. Strange said, stepping slowly toward her.  “You hit your head in the woods.  You’re in our home.”  Y/N glanced around then noticed she wasn’t in her party dress.  She looked down and saw only her undergarments and she gasped again, covering her breasts with her arms.  Mr. Strange grimaced.  “Your dress was soaked from the snow.  We didn’t want you to freeze.  I promise we didn’t look or touch you inappropriately.”

She scoffed at him.  “Oh yes, as I stand here in my undergarments, you didn’t do anything inappropriate!”

Bucky chuckled and she snapped her gaze toward him.  He had the good sense to wipe the smile off his face, biting his lower lip raising his hands in surrender.  She sighed and shook her head, the throbbing pain in her head making her feel slightly nauseous.  Y/N groaned again and Mr. Strange closed the distance between them and hooked his arm around her shoulders, leading her toward the fireplace in the room.  “Come now, let’s get you warmed up properly,” he said, leading her to a rocking chair by the hearth and grabbing a blanket nearby, wrapping it around her before having her sit down.  She put her feet close to the fire, sighing in contentment at the warmth.

“I’m sorry for all this,” Mr. Strange said quietly, giving her space and standing across from her.  

Y/N frowned at him, glancing between him and Bucky repeatedly.  “You’re…so…what are you?  Wizards?  Witches?”

“I guess you could say that,” Mr. Strange shrugged.  “But we’re still just healers.  Medicine makers.”

“Magic wielders,” Y/N said simply.

“Yes,” he nodded.

She nodded, staring into the fire.  Her panic returned and she peered over at Bucky.  “Are you going to kill me?”

“Kill you?” Bucky asked incredulously.  “Why would we kill you?”

“Because I know your secret,” she answered.  

Bucky smirked at her reference to their conversation during the dance.  “Well, we were hoping you could keep our secret,” Mr. Strange said earnestly.  “We had to leave the last area we were in because we were found out, and the people there weren’t so understanding or accepting.  So, will you be a friend?”

Y/N considered it, glancing between the two of them.  “What does your magic do?” she asked.

“Little light shows,” Mr. Strange smirked.  “Enhancing medicines and tinctures, like potions.  Nothing too serious, and we don’t deal in dark magic.”

Y/N nodded and looked back at Bucky.  He was looking at her with a mixture of fear and frustration.  “I followed you to see if you were alright,” she said to him.  His face softened.  “I’m sorry Pietro was an ass.  He has no claim to me yet his jealousy has no bounds, apparently.  And I’m sorry he took it out on you over an innocent dance.”  She licked her lips and looked down at her feet.  “I won’t tell anyone,” she said.  “I think you both bring a great deal of good to Concord, and it would be a shame to lose you over this.”

Mr. Strange sighed.  “Thank you, Miss Y/L/N,” he said appreciatively.  “We appreciate your discretion and understanding.”  She glanced at him and gave him a quick, polite smile.  “I will go find Mr. Banner and let him know you’re alright and recovering from quite the fall,” he said and walked out the door.  The sound of him leaving the house echoed through the hallway, the deafening silence between her and Bucky feeling stifling. 

Y/N focused back on the fire, trying to angle her feet closer to the warmth.  She heard Bucky shuffling around behind her, then he was suddenly kneeling before her.  She looked at him and watched him unfurl a pair of thick socks.  He reached down and lifted her left foot by her ankle, slipping a sock onto her foot.  It was far too big on her, but she smiled at the gesture, the fabric already helping her toes feel better.  He did the same to her other foot, making sure it was on properly before setting it back down then looking up at her.  They stared at each other for a long moment.  He inhaled deeply, his mouth opening then closing again, like he was unsure of what he wanted to say.  

“Thank you,” he finally said quietly.  “For wanting to check on me.  And for keeping the secret.”

Y/N’s smile widened.  “Of course,” she replied just as quietly.  She couldn’t stop staring at his pretty face, wanting to memorize every part of him.  “I liked your magic,” she said.

Bucky huffed a laugh and smiled, glancing at the fire.  “It liked you,” he said.

She frowned.  “Magic liked me?”

Bucky nodded and looked back at her.  “I don’t own the magic, I can just conjure it.  It has its own…personality, in a way.  The fairies and sprites?  They liked you.  It looked like they were blessing you.”

“It was beautiful,” she whispered.  Her hand instinctively went up to her cheek where the sprite kissed her.  “Felt like snowflakes.”

Bucky chuckled and nodded.  “It adapts to the seasons.  Or whatever it feels like at the moment.”

Y/N nodded, though it was all foreign and strange to her.  “Could you…could you do it again?” she asked, slightly leaning forward.

Bucky’s expression was unreadable as he gazed up at her.  He slowly nodded then held up his left hand.  He flexed it like he did before, the light appearing in his palm again.  Y/N’s eyes widened, a wondrous smile on her face.  The light swept around his fingers then transformed into the little sprite she saw earlier.  It stood at the tip of his middle finger, looking up at her.

Bucky reached his free hand out and gripped her right wrist, moving her hand to face upwards like his, her middle finger touching his.  The light sprite chittered, sounding like tiny tinkling bells as it hopped from his finger to hers and then danced in her palm.  Y/N exhaled sharply, slowly bringing her hand up to her eye level to get a better look at the magic.  The sprite got closer to Y/N’s face until it reached out and kissed the tip of her nose.  Y/N giggled, and the sprite seemingly laughed with her.  She put her hand back down and the sprite flitted from her hand back to Bucky’s.  It flew up to his face, kissing the tip of his nose, then grabbed one of the front pieces of his hair and pulled it.  Y/N smiled as Bucky huffed a laugh and let the sprite guide him forward, but his eyes widened as it brought him up on his knees and closer to Y/N.  

Y/N’s eyes widened as well as the sprite pulled his hair until he was at eye level with her, his face an inch from hers.  It let go of his hair and chittered again, reaching its tiny hands out between them so its hands touched both of their noses.  She could feel his breath fanning her lips, and as they stared at each other again the sprite disappeared.

“Funny thing…magic,” Bucky whispered.  

“Funny,” Y/N agreed.

The front door burst open and Y/N gasped, breaking eye contact as her head whipped toward the bedroom door.  Bucky quickly moved away from her, standing by the hearth a few feet away.

“Y/N?!” Bruce’s voice called out, and he rounded the corner and gasped when he saw her.  “Oh my dear, what happened?” he asked worriedly, walking over and kneeling beside her, his hands holding her face to look her over.  Mr. Strange was right behind him.  

“I’m sorry Bruce,” Y/N said, trying to laugh it off.  “I was taking a stroll outside and got lost in the dark.  I clumsily tripped and hit my head, but I’m fine,” she reassured him when his eyes widened.  “Mr. Barnes just so happened to find me and made sure I was safe,” she said, glancing at Bucky.

Bruce nodded but then saw the blanket over her and glanced down her chest.  “Wait, what happened to your dress?” he asked, then looked at Bucky.

“Her dress was soaked through,” Mr. Strange interjected.  “I assure you nothing improper was done.  It was removed only so she wouldn’t catch a chill.”

Bruce sighed.  “Yes, of course.”  He looked back at her.  “Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she nodded.  “My head is still throbbing but I’m fine.”

“Peppermint oil will help with that,” Bucky said quietly.

“Quite right,” Mr. Strange said, a smile spreading across his face at Bucky.  “I’ll go grab you some.”

“Your dress is mostly dry now,” Bucky said, pulling it from a hook near the fireplace.  He walked forward and handed it to Bruce, then walked out of the room, closing the door behind himself.

Y/N quickly got dressed, then walked out of the room with Bruce’s arm around her.  When they reached the front door Mr. Strange handed him a tiny jar of peppermint oil, giving him instructions of what to do with it and how to watch after Y/N for the next few days.  Bucky appeared behind her holding her fur coat.  She smiled at him as he helped her put it on, turning to face him before they left.  

“Thank you Mr. Barnes,” she said.  “For everything.”

Bucky gave her a small smile and nodded, looking down.  His right hand reached out and took her left hand, bringing it up and kissing her knuckles.  Y/N’s eyes widened in shock.  “My pleasure, Miss Y/L/N,” he replied.  “I hope you’ll call on us again soon.”

Y/N fought back a wide smile.  “I will,” she whispered.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” Bruce said, interrupting their moment, making Bucky drop her hand.  Bruce shook his hand.  “For taking care of her.”

“Of course, Mr. Banner,” Bucky said, giving him a polite smile.   

***

“Oh you’re alive!”  Wanda screeched the next day when Bruce showed her into Y/N’s room.  “You just disappeared from the party, and now there’s rumor all over town that you got lost and fell in the woods?  And were rescued?  By Mr. Barnes?!”

“Wanda please,” Y/N groaned, grimacing at Wanda’s continuously raising voice.  “I still have a headache from said fall.”

Wanda looked incredulous, sitting on Y/N’s bed next to her.  “Well first off, are you alright?”

Y/N smiled.  “I’m fine–”

“Wonderful.  So what happened?  Did Mr. Barnes find you in the woods?  Why did he follow you into the woods?  Why were you in the woods in the first place?  Or did you follow him?  What were you—”

“Wanda,” Y/N interrupted, rubbing her temples with her fingers and shutting her eyes.  “Mr. Barnes was upset after what Pietro did so I tried to catch up to him when he left the house to apologize and explain.  I lost him in the woods and fell down and hit my head.  That’s all.”  Wanda narrowed her eyes at her.  “I mean it, that’s all,” Y/N said.  “Thank goodness he was there, or I would have frozen.”

Wanda watched her for another moment before sighing heavily.  “Okay,” she said, reaching out a hand and taking Y/N’s comfortingly.  “Well I’m glad you’re alright.  It’s the talk of the town, though.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Of course it is,” she sighed, settling back into her pillows again.  She had been staying in bed all day with the curtains drawn, the headache still bothering her from the night before.  

A knock came at her bedroom door, and Bruce peeked in.  “My dear, Mr. Barnes is here to see you,” he said with raised eyebrows.

Wanda gasped and looked at Y/N in surprise.  Y/N’s eyes widened, her heart beating rapidly.  He was here?  Now?  Why?  “He can come in,” she heard herself saying.

Bruce nodded and turned back to the hallway, and a moment later Bucky walked through the door, taking off his gloves and hat that were dripping from the snowfall outside.  He looked surprised at seeing Wanda but his eyes focused on Y/N.  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you already had company.”

“It’s alright, I was just leaving,” Wanda said, standing quickly before facing Y/N.  She gave her a wide-eyed stare that screamed, ‘You better tell me all about this later.’  “Feel better my lady,” she said teasingly with a wink.

Y/N rolled her eyes again and winked back.  Wanda quickly left and shut the door behind her, leaving them alone.  Y/N should have sat up in bed and addressed him properly, but instead she laid on her side to face him.  Bucky was looking around her room awkwardly, shifting on his feet.  “Would you like to sit?” she asked quietly, patting the spot on the bed near her legs.

Bucky blinked as his eyes focused back on her, then swallowed harshly before nodding and walking forward.  He removed his coat and set it, his hat and gloves on the floor next to her bed, taking off a satchel he had around his shoulder before sitting down on the spot she gestured to.  He angled his body to face her more and stared at her for a moment.  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Y/N smirked at him.  “I’m fine.  Just a headache.”

He frowned.  “Still?”  She nodded.  “Hm,” he hummed contemplatively.  He reached for the satchel and put it in his lap.  “And the peppermint oil hasn’t seemed to help?”

“It does at first, but quickly wears off,” Y/N said, rubbing her forehead with her fingers.  

“How much water have you drunk today?” he asked, pulling out a few bottles with different colored liquids in them.  “Taken any naps?  Cold compress?”

“A few cups of water,” Y/N answered, watching him intently.  “I can’t get myself to fall asleep.  And no, no cold compress.”

Bucky nodded absentmindedly before looking around her room.  “May I use that?” he asked, pointing towards her vanity with a handkerchief and a bowl on it she used to hold her powder brush.  Y/N nodded and he got up, grabbing them before walking out of her room.  She smiled at his blunt behavior.  He returned a few minutes later, the bowl filled with snow as he dipped the handkerchief into it, getting it soaking wet.  He sat back on the bed, setting the bowl on the floor then scooting closer to her, placing the handkerchief onto her forehead gently.  The cold of the snowy handkerchief helped dull the pain in her head, and she sighed contentedly.  When it was laying the way he wanted he took one of the small bottles that had a purplish liquid in it, unstopped it and poured a few drops on his fingers.  He stopped it again then rubbed the liquid between his fingers on both hands, then reached out and rubbed the oil onto her temples slowly.  

Y/N couldn’t stop staring at him the entire time.  He was so focused, a slight crease between his eyebrows, his lips set in a determined, firm line.  His touch was gentle, soft, and it made her heart ache for more.  After last night’s events she wasn’t sure where it left them.  She knew his and his uncle’s secret, so there was some expectation of discretion between them, but after the little magic sprite had brought them close together, she had seen some kind of change in his expressions towards her.  The annoyed, gruff indifference he supposedly felt before was replaced with this gentle, dare she say caring man taking care of her now.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed her temples.  “Is that…lavender?” she asked, smelling the oil from his fingers.

“Yes,” he said.  “It’s the oil we use to make those lavender lemon balms you like.”

Y/N hummed, a small smile stretching across her face.  “It’s nice,” she murmured.

Bucky huffed a laugh, his fingers coming to a stop and pulling away.  Her eyes opened as he adjusted the handkerchief on her forehead, making sure it was still cool.  “How does that feel?” he asked.

“Soothing,” Y/N replied.  

Bucky gave her a lopsided smile before looking down at his satchel again and pulling out another bottle.  He poured a few drops of it onto his fingers, mixing with the lavender before he looked back at her in apprehension.  “It’s lavender mixed with peppermint.  It should help you relax and sleep a little but, um…” he couldn’t seem to meet her gaze.  “It needs to go on your neck, so you can breathe it in as you’re laying down.”

Y/N giggled at his expression, adjusting herself under the blanket on her bed so she could reach up and pull her nightgown down and out of the way from her neck.  “Does that help?” she asked.

“Yes,” Bucky said, his jaw ticking as he blinked rapidly, a blush coloring his cheeks.

“You don’t need to feel so embarrassed, Mr. Barnes,” Y/N sighed.  “You saw plenty of me last night.”

His blush only got worse.  “True,” he said, clearing his throat.  “But I’d still like to have your permission?”

Y/N smiled at him.  “Yes, you have my permission to touch me and treat me.”

Bucky sighed heavily before adjusting himself on the bed again to be closer, then reached out and started massaging the oils onto her neck and partially down her sternum.  Y/N could smell the mix of lavender and peppermint immediately, her nose flaring as she breathed it in deeply.  Her eyes closed again, silently enjoying the feeling of his hands on her.  Within a few moments her breathing got heavier, and the sleep that had evaded her all day slowly began to overcome her.  She hummed when he massaged up and behind her ears, then back down to her collarbone.  He started humming the same unknown tune she had heard the night before, his low voice helping her relax.  

When she was at the edge of consciousness she felt his fingers withdraw, the bed dipping as he lifted himself off, and the careful tinkling noises of him putting the bottles back in his satchel.  Y/N sighed as she heard rustling of fabric and the floor creaking, her blanket being tucked up and around her gently.  There was a pause, then she felt his breath on her cheek, his fingers moving some of her hair off her forehead.  

“Sleep, pretty thing,” he whispered.  He kissed her cheek lightly, then sighed.  “Can I keep you?”

Y/N couldn’t tell if it was real, the peppermint and lavender lulling her further into dreamland.  But even in her hazy state, the thought of being Bucky’s made her smile.  “Mhm,” she agreed, snuggling further into her pillow.

Bucky chuckled.  “Soon.”  

The last thing she heard was the crackling of the fire, the feeling of snowflakes kissing her skin making her shiver.