#i need to lay on the floor for an hour to recover

[justabeewithapen]

I had to stop and force myself to draw this because I was just saying oh my god over and over and walking in circles around my phone on the floor but OH MY GOD??? I can barely even think every time I try and say something I look at the art again and I have to just hold my hands to my face to keep from idk even know what!! Trying to hecking,,, itemize a list before I explode on the spot oh my god

Your art is doing things to me I am literally never going to recover from oh my god. Her colors perfect, shape literally perfect, human form???? Oh my god??? That literally the most perfect thing I have ever seen in my entire life, fully 100% canon she has thick wavy hair and glasses oh my gosh I am going to be on the NEWS. PEARL EARRINGS GOD I AM JUST GUHHHHH SHE LOOKS SO GOOD ISTG. I hope you are prepared for me to fall apart literally everytime if you draw her more ALSO THATS MEE!!! LOOK AT ME UP TOP!! Watch all the the anime only fans who realize next season that he wasn’t just a one off dude come to Twitter and see us 3 practically writing our own epics in headcanons

i said this in the comments but YES 100%!! Oh their planet strength is seen as very attractive, alongside richer colors (which is a sign of good health). Mr. Shrimp is not very attractive bc he is kinda short and not as strong or durable as much of his species. (I headcanon that a healthy crab alien can hold their strong form for a good chunk of time/indefinitely, whereas he struggles to hold it for even half an hour. Human form is much easier to hold bc it is considerably weaker than his normal form and consumes less energy).

BABY CHIQUITITA YAY HURRAY HURRAY!!! YOU GET THE TRANSPARENT EFFECT SO MUCH BETTER AND THAT IS EXACTLY HOW SQUISHY I IMAGINED HIM!!!! AND YOU DREW HER AS A KID TOO 😭 😭 SHE IS JUST SO PRETTY IN YOUR STYLE I AM NOT OKAY

I need to start dumping my headcanons about her on you guys asap I have been thinking about her so so much. She has had a mental design in my head for a hot second and I was genuinely feeling a little anxious sharing it bc we are so deep in headcanon land and then you hit me with this and I just 😭

my lisT fell apart I am god this is wonderful I owe you my life

@justabeewithapen SHRIMP WIFE 🦐🦐🦐 i was actually so locked in i sat and drew this for three hours straight THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME ive actually been waiting so long for someone to make a design for his wife so when i saw yours i practically jumped out of my seat HEEHEE also i hope you don't mind my interpretation of her earth disguise!!!! I just wanted to take a crack at it 😄😄😄🦐

Ft. You and @lilydreemur77 at the top... I really enjoy the doodle you made of all three of us in the motorcycle LOLL its so cute

Also another thought I had is that considering mantis shrimp aliens are a strong species it'd make sense if they had a preference for strong partners, kind of how saiyans like stronger women if you know Dragon Ball 😄😄 anyway thats my ramble... I'm gonna draw so much more of them if you're alright with that HEEHEEEE 🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐

[teaboot]

do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick

As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping

Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.

Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.

Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy

None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.

The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one

No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.

Some things I've done myself that seem to help:

Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.

When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.

Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:

Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.

At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?

There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.

Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍

[vunblr]

A Cabin for Two

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Desperate for a break from the constant interruptions of their daily lives, Bucky plans a getaway to a secluded cabin deep in the woods. What begins as a peaceful escape soon tests their patience, sparks intimacy, and reveals the strength of their connection.

Word Count: 8.3k

notes: Part of the Roots and Branches AU

The quiet of the mornings was a fragile thing, and it had been shattered almost an hour ago by the insistent chime of the doorbell. Bucky lay in bed, with his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he listened to the muffled voices drifting from the front door. She’d answered it quickly but politely, though the conversation had dragged on far longer than it should have.

He sighed, the comfort and warmth of the bed doing little to soothe the irritation bubbling under his skin. Alone time had become a rare treasure, and lately, it seemed like everyone in town had made it their mission to interfere. He knew the elderly neighbor meant well, but after endless minutes of unsolicited chatter, his patience was wearing thin.

Her polite attempts to wrap things up were obvious, even from here: a gentle laugh, a soft, “Oh, well, I won’t keep you much longer,” but the woman didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Bucky’s jaw tightened for the first time in the day as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

With a grumble, he stood and pulled on his jeans, then grabbed his flannel shirt from the chair in the corner. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he crossed to the hallway, shrugging into his coat and grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.

When he reached the entryway, he stopped briefly, flicking his eyes between the two women. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and her expression was somewhere between apologetic and exasperated. He arched a brow, his lips pressing into a thin line as he stepped forward.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice low but polite, nodding at the elderly woman as he signaled his intention to pass.

“Oh!” The neighbor blinked up at him, clearly startled but recovering quickly. “Heading out so early?”

“I’m going to the workshop,” he almost growled as he glanced at her. Then, turning to Y/n, he softened slightly. “Call you later.”

She tilted her head, and a small frown tugged at her lips. “Oh, And breakfast? Want me to make y-”

“No need, darling,” he cut her off gently but firmly, turning on his heel before she could protest.

The screen door creaked and slammed shut behind him, and he strode toward the truck with purposeful steps. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he let out a deep breath, gripping the wheel as he stared at the empty road ahead.

Enough was enough, they needed a break. A time for just the two of them, away from the endless interruptions and the ever-watchful eyes of the town. The idea took root in his mind as the engine roared to life, and a plan took form as he drove toward the workshop. A cabin, a weekend, and nothing but the quiet woods surrounding them.

---

The workshop smelled of sawdust and varnish, and the familiar hum of machinery was already buzzing in the background as Bucky pulled up. He parked the truck, killed the engine, and sat for a moment, gripping the steering wheel as the plan solidified in his mind. The only problem? It was the height of the season. Every halfway-decent cabin in the area would already be booked.

“Damn it,” he muttered, leaning his head back against the seat with a groan.

Swallowing his pride, he pushed open the truck door and made his way inside. The workshop was bustling as usual, but Sam spotted him almost immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing as he approached. “Morning, sunshine,” he drawled, already a grin tugging at his lips. “You look grumpier than usual. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Bucky replied curtly, shrugging off his coat and draping it over a nearby chair.

Sam raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. You’re stomping around like someone stole your breakfast, but it’s ‘nothing.’ Got it.”

Bucky shot him a warning look, but Sam only chuckled, leaning against the workbench with crossed arms.

“Actually…” Bucky started, gruffly, “you know any cabins ‘round here? Something quiet. Away from people.”

Sam’s grin widened immediately. “You mean, like your house?”

Bucky leveled him with a dirty look, “Farther away.”

Sam’s grin widened. “Oh, this is gonna be good. Why do you need a faraway cabin, Buck?”

“Just answer the question,” Bucky muttered, pulling a pencil from behind his ear and fiddling with it to avoid Sam’s knowing gaze.

“Alright, alright,” Sam said, smirking. “There’s a couple of places I know of, but good luck finding one that’s not booked. You’re cutting it close, man.”

Bucky huffed, staring down at the workbench. “Figured. That’s why I’m asking you.”

Sam tilted his head, his grin turning sly. “And why exactly do you need a cabin? I thought you hated leaving your place for anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“Because,” Bucky grumbled, his voice tight with reluctance, “we could use a break. Just us. No interruptions.”

Sam’s grin practically split his face. “Oh, so it’s for her.” He let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying Bucky’s discomfort. “Man, you’re whipped. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Sam,” Bucky warned, already starting to get irritated. “Are you gonna help or not?”

Sam chuckled, holding up his hands in a mock surrender. “Relax, big guy. I’ve got a cousin who rents out his place sometimes. It’s a little rustic, but it’s quiet, and I’m pretty sure he keeps a spot open for last-minute bookings.”

Bucky perked up slightly, meeting his gaze with Sam’s. “Think he’ll go for it?”

“For you? Probably,” Sam said, grinning. “But only if you promise to stop scowling at everyone for the rest of the week.”

----

By midmorning, Sam’s cousin had called back, and to Bucky’s relief, there was an opening. Apparently, Sam had pulled some strings, mentioning a few owed favors that Bucky didn’t bother asking about. He wasn’t thrilled about relying on Sam’s connections, but he’d take the win. The cabin was booked for the weekend, tucked deep in the woods with no neighbors for miles, a perfect escape.

The morning passed uneventfully after that. He kept busy at the workshop, occupying his mind with the trip and all the things he’d need to prepare. It wasn’t until just after noon that the door creaked open, and the sound of boots on the wooden floor caught his attention.

“Brought you something,” her voice chimed, light and warm, cutting through the steady hum of saws and chatter.

Bucky looked up to see her standing there, the familiar green tupperware in her hands and a smile tugging at her lips. His heart softened instantly, but with Sam and a couple of others milling about, he cleared his throat and kept his expression neutral.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he muttered, stepping closer to take the container.

“I wanted to,” she replied. “Figured you didn’t even have breakfast, did you?”

Caught, Bucky gave her a small, sheepish nod. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, low enough that only she could hear.

She tilted her head, widening her smile. “You’re welcome. Just make sure you eat it before it gets cold.”

He was about to step back when she leaned in, brushing a quick kiss against his stubbled cheek. His muscles tensed on instinct, heat rushing to his face as he shot a quick glance around the room. Sam, of course, was already watching, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Aww, such pampering,” he teased, dragging out the words. “Now I get why he wants to-”

Bucky’s glare cut him off mid-sentence, sharp and unrelenting. If looks could kill, Sam’s head would’ve been obliterated on the spot.

“Shut it, Wilson,” he growled, under his breath.

Sam held up his hands in mock surrender, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “Alright, alright. No need to get your flannel in a twist. Just saying, man, she’s a keeper.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath, and his ears tinged pink as he turned back to her, holding the tupper like it might save him from further embarrassment. She caught the faint tension in his shoulders and, more curiously, the lingering echo of Sam’s teasing. Tilting her head, she gave him a pointed look.

“So,” she asked lightly, her voice curious but playful, “what do you want?”

Bucky blinked, his brows knitting in confusion. “What?”

She arched a brow, twitching the corner of her mouth with amusement. “I pamper you,” she said, gesturing toward the tupperware in his hands, “so you want...?”

His jaw tightened, and a muscle in his cheek twitched as he quickly looked away. “Nothin’,” he muttered gruffly. “He just likes to talk.”

Her smile widened, and she folded her arms leaning slightly closer, clearly not buying his attempt to brush it off. He shifted awkwardly under her gaze, fumbling with the lid of the container.

“I should probably eat this,” he said finally, rushed and uneven, “and, uh, get back to the project.” He scratched the back of his neck, brushing the short ponytail he’d tied earlier that morning.

She stifled a laugh, and her eyes softened as she watched him retreat into himself with that signature mix of bashfulness and stubbornness. “Alright,” she said gently, stepping back with a teasing glint in her eye. “Enjoy the casserole, and don’t forget to actually eat it this time, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, turning toward the workbench with a slight hunch to his shoulders, clearly hoping to escape further scrutiny.

Behind him, Sam’s quiet chuckle reached his ears, and he sent another sharp glare in his direction. But as he settled back into his work, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

-----

Bucky parked his truck outside her house. He grabbed the keys from the ignition and swung the door open, but as he stepped down, a sharp pang shot through his left arm.

“Dammit,” he muttered, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulder as he slammed the truck door shut. For the past two days, the damp weather had been wreaking havoc on the mess of titanium and bone beneath his skin. He grimaced, shaking it off as he made his way up the porch steps.

Fishing the spare key from his pocket, he fumbled with the lock for a moment before letting himself in.

The house was quiet, her laptop sat open on the coffee table, the screen glowing with text she’d been working on. She wasn’t in sight, probably in the bathroom or kitchen. Shrugging off his coat, he draped it over a chair and wandered closer to the coffee table, drawn by the colorful streaks of red and green she’d marked across the page.

He leaned in, squinting at the scene she was editing. A heated moment between a widowed heroine and a cowboy -one who, judging by the way she’d scribbled well-endowed in the margins- wasn’t exactly shy about his physical assets.

Bucky’s brow quirked as he read further. The barn. The hay. The cowboy’s intense sense of duty. The way the poor widow…wait. Was this guy seriously using a breeding-

“Bucky!”

He flinched, startled by her voice, and straightened so fast his neck cracked. She stood in the doorway, wide eyes darting between him and her laptop.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, rushing forward and snapping the laptop shut faster than he could blink.

He raised his hands in mock innocence, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Didn’t mean to snoop,” he drawled with amusement. “Just... couldn’t help but notice what kind of ‘research’ you’re doing these days.”

Her cheeks burned as she folded her arms, trying -and failing- to look unbothered. “It’s not research. It’s editing and proof-reading,” she corrected quickly. “And you’re supposed to be grabbing your tools, not reading over my shoulder!”

Bucky smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the back of the couch. “That what you call it? Editing?” She narrowed her eyes “I didn’t say anything about the, uh...” His smirk deepened as her glare sharpened. “...dedication that cowboy seems to have toward the widow and the old breeding stock on the barn.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Chuckling, Bucky pushed off the couch and moved closer. “Relax, sweetheart.” He brushed a hand against her arm, warmly and reassuringly. “I came to grab my tools, but... I’ve got something to tell you.”

She peeked at him through her fingers. “What’s that?”

His smirk faded into something softer, more thoughtful. “How do you feel about a weekend away? Just us. No laptops, no interruptions, no... cowboys.”

Her hands dropped from her face, and her eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

He nodded, scratching the back of his neck under his short ponytail. “Yeah. Got a cabin lined up. Quiet. Middle of nowhere. Thought it’d be good to... get outta here for a bit.”

Her expression melted into a warm smile, and she stepped closer, resting her hands lightly on his chest. “That sounds perfect, Buck.”

He ducked his head, and his lips twitched into a small, shy smile. “Figured you’d like it.”

She leaned up, brushing a kiss against his lips. “I love it. And you.”

His heart stuttered but he recovered quickly, pulling her closer. “Love you too, darlin’,”

She tilted her head with a playful glint in her eye as her hands slid down his chest. “So,” she began, teasing but curious, “what’s the occasion? Don’t tell me I forgot some special date I’m not aware of?”

Bucky froze for a split second, fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater as his eyes darted briefly away. “I just-” he started, but the words got stuck in his throat. He kicked himself inwardly, forcing himself to man up and meet her gaze. Taking a breath, he straightened his shoulders.

“I want alone time with you,” he said firmly, tumbling out the words with an edge of determination.

Her lips parted in slight surprise, though her smile didn’t fade. She somehow understood where this was going, but knowing how rare it was for him to be this straightforward, she decided to play innocent and coax him into saying more.

“Alone?” she echoed, tilting her head. “But you already sleep here four days a week, and normally on weekends we-”

“Completely alone,” he cut her off.

She blinked at the rare flash of certainty in his voice, but his grumpy pout that followed had her stifling a laugh.

“No boy scout cookie sellers,” he grumbled while his expression darkened at the memory of being roped into buying five boxes last week. “No bored old ladies ringing the doorbell to trap you all morning. And not that friend of yours who always shows up for baking lessons she doesn’t even take seriously.”

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled at his increasing exasperation. “I get it.”

His frown softened slightly, but he still looked serious.

“And...” she ventured, with a sly grin, “what exactly are your plans for those days alone, hm?”

Bucky’s ears flushed red, and his mouth opened as though to respond, but for a moment, nothing came out. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, flicking his eyes to the side before landing back on her.

“Well...” he started, “figured we could... I don’t know. Talk. Sleep in. Walk in the woods. Maybe build a fire. Eat something you didn’t have to cook.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Just... be.”

Her heart softened, and her grin faded into a gentle smile as she stepped closer. “That sounds perfect, Buck,” she said softly, brushing a hand against his cheek.

His eyes searched hers for a moment, then he exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips as she added, “especially for the part where we could wander around naked at any hour knowing no one would come.”

Bucky froze, tightening his hands instinctively on her waist. His gaze flickered with something darker, primal, as her words hung in the air.

She bit her lip, feeling her cheeks warming as she saw his expression shift, at his blue eyes narrowing with interest. Emboldened, she tilted her head closer, dropping her voice into a sultry whisper. “And… since there are no neighbors... we can be all loud... and naughty.”

The growl that escaped him was low and deep, sending a delicious shiver racing down her spine. His hands slid down to her hips, holding her firmly as he stepped closer “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek.

“Am I?” she teased, as she trailed her fingers up his chest, her nails brushing lightly over the fabric of his sweater.

“You are,” he confirmed, tightening his grip just enough to make her breath hitch. “You sure you can keep up?”

Her laughter was soft and breathless as she leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

----

The weekend came by, and they headed off to the cabin. It was nice. The sun was dipping low, casting a golden glow over the snowy landscape. The truck rumbled steadily along the winding road, and the soft hum of the cozy heater filled the silence between them.

But as they rounded a bend, the truck jolted suddenly, listing to one side.

“Great,” Bucky muttered, pulling to the shoulder and cutting the engine. He stepped out into the crisp evening air, already suspecting the problem before he even reached the rear tire. The flat was obvious, the sagging rubber was almost completely deflated. He muttered another curse, running a hand through his hair.

He heard the passenger door open and turned to see her climbing out, tugging her coat tighter around herself as the snow began to drift down in lazy flakes.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, frowning as she approached.

“Coming to help,” she replied simply, her boots crunching against the snow as she reached his side.

“You should get back in the truck,” he said, gruffly but not unkind. “You’ll get sick out here.”

She raised a brow, crossing her arms. “The same could be said for you.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, already crouching to pull the jack and wrench from the toolbox in the bed of the truck.

“Bucky,” she said softly, stepping closer. “You’re not fine. I know your arm’s bothering you.”

He froze briefly, before resuming his task without looking at her. “It’s nothin’. Just the weather messin’ with it.”

“And you were going to say something, when? she retorted. “Let me help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He shook his head, gripping the jack with his good hand and positioning it under the truck. “I’ve got it,” he said, firmly. “Go sit in the truck where it’s warm.”

“Bucky,” she pressed, kneeling beside him despite the cold seeping through her jeans. “Stubborn man, you’re in pain, you’re not fooling me.”

He shot her a sideways glance, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I’m not lettin’ you freeze your ass off out here. Go inside.”

She reached out, placing a hand on his arm, not the one that ached, but the other, steady and sure. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly.

His jaw clenched, and his resolve flickered as her words settled over him. Finally, he sighed, easing the tension in his shoulders just slightly. “Fine,” he muttered. “You can hold the damn flashlight.”

She smiled, leaning up to press a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing the flashlight from the truck. As she illuminated the work area, he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered under his breath.

The flat tire took longer than it should have. His left arm ached like a bitch, and each motion was a reminder of the puzzle of titanium and bone that would never quite work the way it used to. He tried to power through, determined to manage on his own, but his movements grew slower and more strained.

“Here, let me help,” she said softly, stepping forward as he struggled to lift the wheel into place.

“I got it,” he gritted out, but his grip faltered just enough for her to step in, steadying the weight with him.

It stung more than he cared to admit, her intervention feeling like a bruise to his pride. Once the wheel was finally secured, he tightened the lug nuts in silence, his mood darkening with every passing minute.

By the time they climbed back into the truck, the snow was falling heavier. The heater hummed softly, but the tension in the cab was palpable.

Bucky stared sternly at the road, gripping the wheel as his mind spiraled. The sting of the cold on his bare hands, the ache in his arm, the fact that he hadn’t been able to handle the damn tire without her help, it all gnawed at him, feeding the deep-rooted insecurities he tried so hard to bury.

“You okay?” she asked gently, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, not looking at her.

She hesitated, scanning his profile. The stiffness in his posture, the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands gripped the wheel like it might slip from his grasp, she knew he wasn’t okay.

“Do you want some coffee?” she offered, lifting the thermos she’d packed. “It’s still warm.”

“No, thanks,” he replied, clipped.

She frowned, and her concern grew as the silence stretched on. His hands, red and raw from the cold, caught her attention, and she wondered if the pain had worsened.

“Bucky,” she said softly, “do you want me to drive? Your hands must be hurting after working in this weather without gloves.”

That did it.

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his jaw locking as the words struck a nerve. He knew she meant well, but the offer felt like a confirmation of everything his mind was already whispering, that he wasn’t enough. That he couldn’t even take care of something as simple as a flat tire without help.

“I said I’m fine,” he muttered tensely.

She bit her lip, sensing the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior but unsure how to reach him. “It’s not a big deal,” she tried, her tone gentle. “We’re in this together, remember? There’s no shame in letting me help.”

His grip tightened further, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. “I said I can handle it,” he said firmly, his voice edged with frustration he hadn’t meant to direct at her.

He drove silently, fixing his gaze on the snow-dusted road ahead, while his mind churned with doubts. He hated the way he’d snapped at her, hated that she’d seen him struggle. Most of all, he hated the nagging voice in the back of his head, whispering that maybe he wasn’t enough for her.

---

The rest of the trip passed in silence. She had shifted slightly toward the window, leaning her shoulder against the door, with her gaze fixed on the snow-covered forest rushing past. The quiet wasn’t oppressive, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

Bucky’s grip on the wheel loosened. He hadn’t meant to snap, but the words had come out sharp anyway, cutting through her concern with the jagged edge of his pride.

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as guilt settled in its place. She’d only been trying to help, and he’d let his frustration get the better of him.

At some point, the need to bridge the growing chasm between them grew too strong to ignore. He cleared his throat softly, his voice came low and gruff as he murmured, “A little coffee sounds nice now.”

There was no answer.

Frowning slightly, he glanced over at her, ready to apologize. But the words caught in his throat when he saw her.

Her head rested lightly against the window, her eyes closed, breathing softly and even. She’d fallen asleep.

Of course, he thought, with a pang of guilt. It was late, the air outside was cold, and to top it off, he hadn’t even been good company. He’d acted like an idiot, stewing in his frustration instead of appreciating the woman who had braved the freezing weather just to help him.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, taking in the soft curve of her lips and the way her lashes rested against her cheeks. She looked peaceful, and the sight tugged at something deep inside him, making him tighten his grip on the wheel.

He returned his focus to the road, clenching his jaw briefly as he wrestled with the mess of emotions swirling in his chest. He couldn’t undo the way he’d acted, but he could make up for it. For now, he’d let her rest, keep her warm and comfortable.

----

As the cabin came into view at last, tucked into a small clearing in the snow-dusted forest, Bucky frowned slightly. It was smaller than he’d expected and not exactly what you’d call visually appealing. The roof looked like it hadn’t been repaired in years, the paint on the shutters was peeling, and the porch sagged just enough to make him hesitate about stepping on it.

He sighed quietly, chastising himself for being so quick to judge. Focus on the goal, he thought. Time alone with her. No neighbors. No interruptions. That’s all that matters.

She stirred beside him as he turned off the engine, and her eyes fluttered open. She sat up quickly, stretching as she glanced at him. “Oh, sorry I fell asleep,” she murmured, her voice still a little thick.

He shook his head, brushing off her apology. “Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I was... a grump. Didn’t mean to ruin the start of the trip.”

She tilted her head, and her gaze softened as a small smile tugged at her lips. “You didn’t ruin anything, Buck.”

He gave her a faint smile in return before glancing back at the cabin. “Let’s get inside,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

Getting the door open was another matter entirely. The old lock protested against his attempts, creaking and groaning as he jiggled the key. After a few muttered curses and a bit of elbow grease, the door finally swung open with a loud creak.

He stepped inside first. He’d fantasized that even if the cabin looked old on the outside, the inside would be a pleasant surprise, something rustic but cozy, maybe with modern upgrades to make up for the exterior.

No such luck.

The interior was just as outdated as the outside. The furniture was mismatched and worn, the wallpaper was peeling in places, and the lighting was dim at best. The faint smell of wood smoke lingered in the air, and the fireplace looked like it hadn’t been used in years.

Bucky stood in the center of the small room, crossing his arms as he took it all in. He’d definitely be having a chat with Sam about this cousin of his when they got back.

But for now, he had to find something positive to say, even as the disappointment tugged at the corners of his mind. He glanced back at her as she stepped in, brushing her hands over her arms to warm up.

“It’s... clean,” he finally said, feeling the words awkward as they left his mouth.

She blinked at him, then looked around, and her lips twitched as she fought back a laugh. “Clean, huh?”

He shrugged, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Let’s see... also it’s got four walls and a roof. That’s somethin’, right?” He sighed, glancing at the dingy fireplace. “I’ll start the fire.”

She smiled softly, setting her bag by the door. “I’ll grab the luggage,” she announced, turning toward the truck.

“Wait,” he called, already stepping toward her. “I can-”

“Nope,” she cut him off, spinning on her heel to face him, hands on her hips. “Don’t even start, James Buchanan Barnes.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and he crossed his arms. “You shouldn’t be out in this snow. It’s freezing.”

“Exactly,” she retorted, pointing at him. “Which is why you’re not going out there either. Your arm’s already giving you trouble, and I’m not about to let you make it worse.”

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, but she wasn’t having it.

“Fine, huh?” she shot back, raising a brow. “Last I checked, we’re not living in the caves anymore. You don’t have to do everything yourself. I’m perfectly capable of hauling a couple of bags.”

“Darlin’-” he started, but she stepped closer, resting her hand lightly on his chest.

“Bucky,” she said gently. “Let me do this. You’re not proving anything by pushing yourself in this weather. Just... let me help, okay?”

He hesitated, and his jaw worked as his eyes searched hers. He hated the thought of sitting idle while she did the heavy lifting, but the concern in her gaze gave him pause. Finally, he sighed, slightly slumping his shoulders in defeat.

“Alright,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But take it slow.”

“Always do,” she said with a small smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek before heading out the door.

-----

Starting the fire was proving to be yet another test for Bucky’s patience. He muttered a string of curses under his breath as the stubborn logs refused to catch, the kindling only sputtering weakly before fizzling out. At this point, he was starting to wonder if this whole thing was part of some hidden camera prank, because damn.

She had reentered the cabin while he was still wrestling with the fireplace, carrying their luggage and moving quietly so as not to disrupt his focus -or, more accurately-, his battle with the firewood. She unpacked their belongings in the small bedroom, making the best of the limited space and creaky furniture.

When she finished, Bucky was still hunched over the fireplace, furrowed brows and lips set in a grim line of determination. Suppressing a smile, she decided to let him be, for now, heading to the kitchen instead.

The tiny space was quaint, with mismatched cabinets and appliances that looked older than she was. She busied herself getting familiar with it, unpacking their groceries, and pulling out a few ingredients for dinner.

After a while, she peeked through the kitchen doorway to check on him. He was sitting back on his heels, rubbing his elbow absently, clearly, the ache in his arm was getting to him. The fireplace remained cold and unlit.

She sighed. She knew a direct approach wouldn’t do any good, not when his pride was already bruised. Instead, an idea formed in her mind, and she couldn’t help the mischievous grin that crept across her face.

“Um, Buck?” she called, with a note of uncertainty. “Can you come here for a second? There’s something about the water heater I don’t understand.”

His head snapped up, furrowing his brows as he stood and brushed off his hands. “The water heater? What’s wrong with it?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied, feigning confusion as she poked her head out of the kitchen. “I just need you to take a look.”

Without hesitation, he crossed the room. “Alright, let’s see what’s goin’ on.”

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, she turned to face him, with wide, innocent eyes. He barely had time to notice that nothing in the room seemed out of place before she stepped forward, grabbing him by the front of his sweater and gently pushing him back against the counter.

“What the-” he started, gruffly with confusion as his ass hit the edge of the counter.

Her hands slid up to rest on his chest, and her fingers curled into the fabric as she looked up at him with mischief. “Gotcha,” she said softly, with a playful smile tugging at her lips.

He blinked, arching his brow as he realized he’d been ambushed. “This ain’t about the water heater, is it?”

“Not even a little,” she admitted, tilting her head as her grin widened.

His lips twitched, quirking upward despite his earlier sour mood. “You think you’re clever, huh?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, leaning closer, and pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw. “Now, let me make you a deal.”

He arched a brow. “I’m listenin’.”

“You come to sit down and rest that arm of yours,” she said, her tone gentle but firm, “and I’ll take care of the fire.”

“You?” he asked, his voice skeptical but not unkind.

“Me,” she replied confidently, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Trust me, Buck. I’ve got this.”

He hesitated, and his jaw worked as he weighed his pride against the undeniable ache in his arm. Finally, he exhaled a slow breath and nodded. “Alright,” he muttered gruffly,  but his tone was tinged with reluctant gratitude. “But if you need help-”

“I’ll call for my big, strong lumberjack,” she teased, brushing another kiss against his cheek before stepping back toward the fireplace.

The thing was, she’d anticipated this exact scenario. Having grown up with the conveniences of city living, she’d given in to her practical instincts at the general store and bought a couple of ignition discs, just in case. No fuss, no frustration. Just place them under the wood, light them, and voilà.

She crouched near the hearth, arranging the wood carefully before sliding one of the discs into place. With a quick flick of the lighter, the flame caught instantly, spreading evenly and licking at the dry kindling.

Behind her, she heard the sound of a chair scraping softly against the floor. She glanced back to find Bucky standing there, arms crossed, one brow quirked as he watched the flames come to life.

“Couldn’t you, you know… have told me sooner you had those?” he asked, with a mix of curiosity and mild exasperation.

She straightened, dusting her hands off on her jeans as she met his gaze deadpan. “Well, you weren’t exactly in the mood for more interventions earlier.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as his lips tugged into a wry, self-aware smile. “Fair point,” he muttered, slumping his shoulders slightly. “I’m sorry... again.”

She stepped closer, brushing her hand lightly against his arm. “It’s okay, Buck. We’re here now. Fire’s going, and we’ll be warm in no time.”

He nodded, easing the tension in his posture as he let out a slow breath. “Alright,” he glanced toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you let me take care of dinner? You’ve already done enough. I’ll check it, stir it, and whatever else it needs.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, cutting her off before she could get the words out.

“And you,” he continued, his tone firm but warm, “are going to take a shower and relax. You’ve done more than enough already.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, her hands resting on her hips. “Bucky, I don’t mind helping finishing-”

“I know you don’t,” he said, stepping closer and dipping his head to meet her gaze. “But I want to do this. You’ve been running around taking care of everything since we got here. Let me handle this, darlin’.”

Finally, she let out a soft sigh, quirking her lips into a faint smile. “Alright, fine,” she relented.

With that, she headed toward the small bathroom, and soon the faint sound of falling water filled the cabin. Bucky moved to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he inspected the bubbling pot on the stove. He stirred it slowly, tasting the broth and deciding in record time it was ready. With a satisfied nod, he turned off the burner, set the lid in place, and leaned against the counter for a moment, letting the warmth from the stove soothe his thoughts.

She wasn’t the only one who got to pull sneaky moves, he decided, and he figured it was about time to even the score.

Quietly, he walked toward the bathroom, his footsteps oh so soft against the wooden floor. As he moved, he peeled off his sweater and undershirt, letting them fall into a pile near the bedroom door. His boots and socks followed, then his jeans, until he was down to nothing but a faint smirk as he reached the bathroom door.

The faint creak of the hinges went unnoticed, her voice carrying softly over the sound of the running water. She was singing along to a tune playing on her phone.

The flimsy shower curtain barely masked her silhouette, and he stepped closer, his shadow looming behind it as he reached for the edge.

She didn’t notice a thing, too lost in her song to hear the quiet rustle of the curtain rings sliding along the rod.

Until he stepped in.

“Bucky!” she squeaked, spinning around as the cool air rushed in with him.

He grinned, utterly unrepentant as he crowded into the small space, warm water splashing over his chest. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d save some water. Also, thought you liked surprises, like that little ambush in the kitchen” he murmured, as his hands found her waist, pulling her closer under the spray.

Before she could come up with a witty response, he dipped his head and captured her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His touch was unhurried but thorough as his hands started to explore the soft, already-soaped curves of her body with an ease that made her toes curl.

She gasped softly against his mouth, curling her fingers instinctively into his damp hair, pulling him closer. Bucky,” she murmured between kisses, though the protest in her tone was faint.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then down the column of her neck, leaving a warm path against her slick skin.

“This is...” She paused, her words faltering as his hands slid lower, steadying her against the slippery tiles.

“This is me,” he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly, “making up for being an ass earlier.”

A soft laugh escaped her, while her breasts brushed against him as she tilted her head to meet his gaze. “This how you apologize?”

He smiled, tracing lazy circles against her hip with his thumb. “Depends,” he drawled. “You acceptin’ it?”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a slow, teasing smile as her fingers trailed down his chest. “Hmm,” she mused, pretending to consider it. “I don’t know... You were kind of a grump earlier.”

His smirk faltered just slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “Yeah,” he admitted softly, his hand tightening gently on her waist. “I was.”

Her heart softened at his honesty, her teasing tone giving way to something gentler. “You know, all you had to do was talk to me,” she said, brushing her fingers lightly up over his collarbone.

“I know,” he murmured, lowering his gaze for a moment. “I just... get in my head sometimes. Don’t mean to take it out on you.”

She cupped his jaw, guiding his eyes back to hers, brushing her thumb against the faint stubble on his cheek. “I know that, Buck. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself. I’m here. Let me be here, okay?”

He held her gaze and slowly he nodded, leaning into her touch. “Okay,” he whispered, the word heavy with unspoken gratitude.

Her smile widened, and she leaned up to press a soft kiss on his lips. “Good,” she murmured against his mouth.

When she started to pull back, he caught her by the waist, his half smile returning as he lowered his voice to a playful murmur. “Still haven’t said if you’re acceptin’ my apology, though.”

She laughed softly, sliding her hands back up to his shoulders. “I guess I could be persuaded.”

“Persuaded, huh?” he murmured, leaning in until their foreheads brushed, his lips barely a breath away from hers. “Guess I better try harder.”

“That so?” she whispered, her voice trembling with amusement and anticipation.

“Mm-hmm,” he rumbled, sliding his hands up her slick back, pulling her closer under the warm spray. “Wouldn’t want to leave any doubt.” He captured her mouth and fisted her hair with one hand, while the other roamed down her back to squeeze the curve of her ass. He broke the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, nipping and sucking at her sensitive skin. “Think I can convince you?” he breathed against her ear, as he started to grind his hardening cock against her stomach.

“Uhuh, for starters you were the one who booked this cabin for us to be alone. That adds some points.” She conceded, biting her lip.

“Let’s see if I can score some more”. With a sudden move, he spun her around, pinning her against the tile wall. The cool surface of the tiles against her nipples contrasted sharply with the heat of his body at her back, and she shivered.

She gasped, feeling his full awakened cock pressing against her, as the water drippled over their bodies. "Such a naughty lumberjack" she teased, arching her back slightly to grind against him. “To think you get all flustered and awkward on a daily basis, and then…”

“...and then I let loose like this” he growled, punctuating the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, grinding his thick length against her ass. He slid up a hand to flick his thumb over one of her nipples as he leaned in to nip at her neck. “Guess I've got two sides to me, sweetheart”. His free hand slid down to cup her pussy possessively, spreading her open and rubbing his fingers on her wet folds.

“Yes, you do" she moaned, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck. "I love both sides of you, Buck. The sweet, grumpy boyfriend, and the passionate lover". She rocked her hips into his touch, soaking his fingers with her slick. "Please” she whined, pressing her rear against his aching cock.

He groaned at her words and bit down gently on her neck. “Patience, darlin’. We’ve got all night” he rasped, even as his fingers continued their torturous dance, circling her clit before dipping inside her. As much as he wanted to bury himself balls-deep in her right now, he also craved the slow burn of building pleasure between them. He knew just how to tease her, how to make her squirm and beg without ever quite reaching the edge. “Look at you, so wet and needy already”, he praised, adding a third finger to stretch her further as he pumped them in and out of her tight heat. “Tell me what you want, sugar”

“Oh god, Bucky please...” she pleaded, riding his hand shamelessly, chasing her release, desperate for friction, for more penetration, for anything that get her closer to-

With a low chuckle, he withdrew his fingers, leaving her empty and aching. He turned off the shower and lifted her effortlessly, carrying her out of the bathroom and towards the creaky bed awaiting them. As he laid her down, a little rougher than intended, he stood at the foot of the mattress, raking over her splayed form with appreciation. A smug smile curved his lips as he watched her squirm restlessly, trying to close the distance between them. “Not yet, sweetheart” he crooned, his voice husky with promise. “First, I need to taste you.”

Her body thrummed with pent-up desire as she gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Her pussy clenched at his words, and a whimper escaped her parted lips. "Please, Bucky" she begged, spreading her thighs wider in silent invitation.

His gaze dropped to her exposed folds, and he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to plunge straight inside her. Instead, he crawled onto the bed and leaned down, dragging his tongue up her slit, to swirl it around her needy clit.

She cried out, and her back arched off the mattress as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more contact. He hummed in approval and repeated the motion, increasing the pressure and speed as he worked her higher. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her still as he feasted on her, alternating between gentle laps and firm sucks on her clit. Just when she teetered on the edge, he pulled back, leaving her panting and desperate. “So close, aren't we, darlin’? With a wicked grin, he positioned himself between her thighs, the broad head of his cock nudging her entrance. Ready to leap?”

“If this is your way to ask for apologies, let me tell you-“ she was interrupted by his thick length spearing into her in one smooth stroke, making her cry out.

He stilled for a moment, savoring the sensation, before slowly withdrawing until just the tip remained inside her. Then, with a powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt once more. This time, he set a relentless pace, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her entire body. “Take it, sweetheart. Take everything I've got for you,” he groaned, as the headboard collided dangerously against the wooden wall again and again.

"Yes yes yes!!" she screamed as he struck her sweet spot repeatedly, digging her nails into his back as her inner muscles clenched wildly around his thickness. She was so close, the tension inside her building to a fever pitch, until finally, she came undone beneath him, milking his cock as he continued to thrust, prolonging her ecstasy. ”Bucky! Oh god, Bucky!”

“Gonna fill you up, darlin’”, he snarled, snapping his hips faster, going deeper as he neared the edge. “Fuck, you're squeezing me so good. So fucking tight and wet, just for me.” He praised, each word punctuated by a harsh slap of flesh against flesh. “Can't hold back anymore baby, I gotta-”. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and let go, emptying himself inside her willing pussy. For several moments, he remained frozen, savoring the sensation, until finally, with a soft groan he collapsed on top of her, his body heavy but comforting as his chest heaved against hers. His damp hair clung to his cheeks, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

After a long quiet stretch, she brushed her lips against his temple, “Hey.”

He grunted in response, low and muffled against her neck.

“How’s your arm?” she asked, brushing her fingers gently over his shoulder, breaking through the haze of contentment.

Bucky didn’t answer right away. He shifted slightly, lifting his head just enough to meet her eyes. His blue gaze was soft, still clouded with lingering post-coital bliss and a flicker of surprise there too, as if he hadn’t expected her to bring it up now.

“’S’ fine,” he said, “Doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

“You sure? No lying to me, handsome.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shifting his weight as he propped himself up on his forearms. “I’m sure,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead tenderly. “You’re good at distracting me.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she shook her head. “Bucky,” she said softly, her tone turning serious. “I mean it. If it’s hurting, you need to let me know.”

He sighed, dropping his forehead against hers. “It’s alright,” he promised, his voice more earnest now. “Doesn’t hurt like it did earlier. Just... aches a little.”

“Alright,” she said, brushing her fingers soothingly along his arm. “Because maybe I’ve packed some oil for a sexy massage... just in case you needed it.”

Bucky froze for a beat, raising his brows slightly as he lifted his head to look at her. The surprise in his expression quickly gave way to a bloomed blush. “Oh, yeah?”

She grinned, “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. You know, for emergencies.” she added teasingly.

“Emergencies,” he repeated.

She nodded, keeping her expression straight despite the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “Of course. A good partner always thinks ahead. But I don’t see you very into it, maybe you don’t wanna-”

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbled promptly, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him so she sprawled across his chest. “I’d be a fool to turn down an offer like that.”

“Smart man,” she teased, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his lips before slipping out of bed to rummage through her bag. “Stay put, honey.”

He ran a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath that she couldn’t quite hear. When she turned back, bottle in hand, his gaze darted to it briefly before flicking back to her face, with a mix of amusement and lingering flustered disbelief. “Darlin’ you spoil me too much”

“Oh, and I plan to keep doing so. Now, roll over and relax.” She playfully ordered. When he complied, she straddled his waist. Her hands started moving expertly over his skin, spreading the warmed oil on his shoulders and upper back and the tension in his muscles slowly began to melt away as her thumbs pressed into the knots, working them loose with deliberate care.

He let out a low, contented groan, turning his head slightly to rest on his folded arms. “Really, you didn’t have to go all out like this,” he murmured, but even he faintly protested, his voice was thick with relaxation.

“Oh, I definitely did,” she teased lightly, moving her hands to his biceps, carefully avoiding his left elbow.

As her hands continued their soothing path, he silently thanked whatever twist of fate had brought her into his life.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[fastandcarlos]

Post Race Massage : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: after another gruelling race, charles looks to you to help his aching muscles recover

You couldn’t help but laugh as Charles let go of a groan, his hands pressing against his back as the aches of the day caught up with him. He dropped down onto the bed beside you, his sad eyes glancing across at you as he struggled to deal with how much his body hurt.  

It had been a long weekend of racing for him, pushing his body to the absolute limit, but when he had a collision with Sergio during the race, his body was finally done in. After jolting in his seat Charles felt his body scream out in pain, a pain that had stuck with him for the rest of the day as you got back to your hotel. 

His steps were slow as he moved, his arm clung onto you for a little bit of support, it was unlike anything that you had seen from Charles before. As he laid himself down, it was the most comfortable that Charles had felt for hours, finally able to relax a little. 

“Who knew racing was so cruel on the body,” you teased, brushing your hand through Charles’ messy hair. “I thought you’re supposed to train so these things don’t hurt as much.” 

Charles frowned across at you, his usual confidence had been replaced by plenty of pity for himself, eyes searching in hope of a little bit more sympathy from you. 

You watched Charles for a few moments, thinking through of ways that you could help him. You remembered the things that you saw Charles’ team do in his driver’s room plenty of times before, confident you could do the same thing. 

“Why don’t you lay on your tummy?” You suggested, shuffling off of the bed so that Charles could roll over. “I’m sure there’s something that I could do to help you out and ease some of that tension.” 

Charles did as you said, with plenty of moans and groans, letting you know just how sore he was. You struggled to hold back your laughter as he did so, as much as you felt sorry for him, seeing him be so dramatic never failed to leave you in disbelief.  

Once Charles was comfortable, you pushed the legs of his trousers up so that you could get to his calves, pressing your hands into his muscles and massaging over them. Another moan came from Charles, this time one that was filled with relief and comfort. 

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop, that feels incredible,” Charles told you. 

You smiled back down as he rested his head against his arms. “If someone were to walk past our hotel room right now, they’d have some serious questions about what we’re doing.” 

“With how sore my body is right now, this feels so much better than sex my love.” 

A chuckle came from you as you continued to massage the tension and knots out of Charles’ muscles. You moved your hands up his leg, reaching the top of his thigh, pressing in as firmly as you could to try and help him. 

“I’ll bare that in mind,” you smirked, tapping against Charles’ bottom. 

He continued to sigh in relief, finally able to relax again. “Maybe it’s about time I accept that I’m not exactly a young racing driver anymore.” 

“How many times do you have to be told to do your warm ups properly before you listen?” 

Charles only had himself to blame for the pain that he was in, assuring you and the rest of his team that warming up was pointless. He was still young, fit, he didn’t need to stretch his muscles out, all he was doing was driving a car, or so he thought. 

“Take your top off,” you instructed, hearing a hum of delight come from Charles, only to feel you slap your hand against his back. 

Your eyes rolled as he took his top off and threw it on the floor. Your legs straddled around his body, sitting yourself just below Charles’ bottom so that you could get to his back. 

As soon as your hands landed at the top of his back, Charles’ smile turned up. Your hands massaged over him once again, digging into all the right places to try and untangle the knots that you could feel building up. 

“Good?” You questioned, although you already knew the answer, watching as Charles turned his head around to be able to look back at you with his smile. 

His head nodded in response, “I mean my body is still killing me, but you’re working some pretty good magic making it feel better right now.” 

“I’m glad I could help you out.” 

“I could get used to this.” 

“Having your girlfriend sit on your ass whilst she massages your body, I’m sure that you could,” you teased, “you can wipe that smile off of your face as well.” 

As much as he wanted to, Charles simply couldn’t, he was enjoying himself far too much. It was nice enough to have you help him, but feeling you sat on top of him was definitely an added bonus that he could get used to as well. 

“You know, seeing as you’re getting old we might have to invest in some things to help you when your body is sore,” you told him, “have you seen those massage guns that all the gym people are using these days?” 

“Trust me, no massage gun can make me feel as good as your hands,” Charles assured you, pushing back against you as you dug in against his spine, moving your fingertips around in circular motions. 

“Try and not sound so smug when you say that,” you challenged. 

Charles’ head shook, “I would love to try, but I’m feeling so smug right now, almost like I’m in some sort of dream.” 

He didn’t want to make his body suffer, but if this was how you treated him after it, maybe it would be worth it for Charles after all. He had a whole team of experts around him, and yet none of them took care of him as well as you did. 

“I think I’m almost done,” you told Charles, only to feel his hands reach back and rest on your hips, refusing to let you leave from where you were sat. “We can’t spend the night with me straddling you like this.” 

“What about if I turned over into a different position instead?” 

“I thought you were supposed to be tired and achy?” You reminded him, knowing exactly what Charles was hinting at from the suggestive tone of his voice. “You’ve suddenly changed your tune.” 

“I was, but then you gave me some godly massage and suddenly I feel like I’ve found a bit of energy again,” Charles smirked, sending you a knowing glance. 

You didn’t quite know what to say as Charles raised his eyebrows across at you, tensing his back so you could see his muscle definition, knowing just how much it turned you on. 

“If you moan in the morning that your body hurts, I’m going to have no sympathy for you,” you warned, sitting up so that Charles could turn so that he was facing you. 

“It’ll be worth it,” Charles promised you, “and anyway, I got another podium today, so we’re supposed to be celebrating that, aren’t we?” 

“That’s true, congratulations old man.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[moonselune]

🎄A Very BG3 Gentlemen Christmas🎄

Gale:

The cozy warmth of the study was offset by the faint chill of winter creeping through the frosted windows. The room was alight with the soft glow of a roaring fire, the scent of pine from the nearby Christmas tree mingling with the faint aroma of mulled wine. You stood in the middle of it all, wrapped—quite literally—in crimson ribbons that you had artfully tied around yourself, each bow a playful promise. This was your Christmas gift to Gale, and you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

Unfortunately, your plan had hit a slight snag.

Gale was seated in his favorite armchair, his nose buried in the ancient tome you had painstakingly tracked down and gifted him earlier that day. The way his eyes lit up when he unwrapped it had been magical in its own way, but now, hours later, the book had fully consumed him. He hadn’t even noticed your grand entrance.

You cleared your throat. “Gale.”

“Mm?” he hummed absently, his finger tracing a line of text. “Fascinating… Did you know the original binding techniques of this era often involved enchanted thread? Remarkable craftsmanship.”

You took a step closer, deliberately letting the bows on the ribbons sway as you leaned against the desk. “That’s wonderful, Gale, but I have… another gift for you.”

“Another gift?” His head tilted slightly, but his eyes remained glued to the page. “You’ve already outdone yourself, my love. Truly, this is the best Christmas in years.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“This one is… special,” you said, your voice laced with suggestion.

“Special, you say?” he murmured, finally glancing up for a fleeting moment. His gaze brushed over you but didn’t linger, his focus drawn back to the book. “I can’t imagine what could top this, but I’m intrigued.”

You were starting to lose patience. With a sigh, you circled behind him and rested your hands on his shoulders, leaning close.

“Gale,” you said, your voice low and insistent. “Look. At. Me.”

“In just a moment,” he replied, oblivious. “I’m at a crucial section on the incantations of—"

Enough was enough. You stepped in front of him, bent slightly, and cupped his jaw with both hands, tilting his face upward.

“Gale Dekarios,” you said firmly. “Look at me.”

And then it happened. His eyes finally focused on you, and the book slipped from his hands, landing on the floor with a dull thud. His expression was priceless—a mixture of shock, wonder, and sheer disbelief as he took in the sight of you, wrapped in ribbons and glowing with a mischievous smile.

“You’re… you’re…” Gale stammered, his voice catching as he gestured helplessly at you. “You’re wearing ribbons?”

“Only ribbons,” you clarified with a playful tilt of your head.

His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he reached up to gently touch one of the bows on your shoulder. “This… this is… I mean, you…”

“You’re welcome,” you teased, stepping closer until his hands instinctively came to rest on your bare waist.

Gale exhaled a shaky laugh, his amazement giving way to warmth. “You are the most enchanting, most extraordinary gift I could ever hope for.”

“Better than the book?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Far better than the book,” he said, his voice soft as his hands slid around to pull you into his lap. “Though I may need to thank you for both… at length.”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him, and for once, the ancient tome lay forgotten as Gale’s full attention was exactly where it belonged—on you.

Astarion:

The room was filled with a cloud of warm steam, the scent of pine, cloves, and orange peels lingering in the air from the simmering pot of mulled wine you’d prepared earlier. Astarion reclined in the large copper bathtub, the water rippling as he shifted dramatically, his arms flung over the sides as though recovering from some great ordeal. His wet silver curls clung to his forehead, and his crimson eyes fixed on you with an exaggerated pout.

“I can’t believe you,” he drawled, his voice a mixture of mockery and genuine indignation. “How could you do this to me, your own lover? It was ruthless. Merciless. Positively inhumane.”

You stifled a giggle, your hand dipping into the water to scoop some of it and gently pour it over his hair.

“I didn’t realize you were so delicate, Astarion,” you teased, fingers working a lather of soap into his damp locks. “It was just a snowball fight.”

“‘Just a snowball fight’?” He turned his head slightly, though the luxurious massage you were giving his scalp quickly dissuaded him from moving too much. “You ambushed me. I didn’t even see that last one coming! And you—I saw you laughing! Laughing at my suffering!”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh again as you recalled the memory. The way he’d flailed when your expertly thrown snowball had hit him square in the chest was nothing short of theatrical.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” you lied, poorly, as another giggle escaped. “It was just… you looked so surprised.”

“Oh, is that all?” he huffed, his eyes closing as your fingers continued to knead into his scalp, the tension in his posture melting away despite his indignation. “I suppose it’s funny when the vampire freezes to death.”

“You’re not freezing to death,” you pointed out, rinsing the soap out of his hair with a gentle stream of water. “You’re in a hot bath now, aren’t you? Being pampered no less.”

“It’s the very least you could do after your assault,” he countered, though his tone was softening with each stroke of your fingers. He opened one eye to peer at you. “I’m still wet. And cold. And utterly traumatized.”

“Utterly traumatized,” you repeated with mock seriousness, leaning over to grab the goblet of blood you’d set on the edge of the tub for him. “Here. Maybe this will help with your recovery.”

He sat up slightly, taking the goblet with an exaggerated sigh.

“I suppose this will do… for now.” His fingers brushed yours as he accepted the drink, a hint of gratitude in his expression despite his theatrics. He sipped slowly, savouring the blood you had so kindly donated to him, before setting it aside. “Though I’m not entirely convinced you’re sorry.”

“I am sorry,” you said, though your grin betrayed you.

He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t look sorry.”

You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips. His indignation melted completely as he kissed you back, his hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. When you pulled away, he was smiling despite himself.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his voice now filled with warmth. “But I suppose I’ll forgive you… this time.”

“Good,” you said, your fingers returning to his hair. “Because I’m not apologizing if we have a rematch tomorrow.”

He laughed, the sound rich and light, as he reclined back into the tub.

“We’ll see who’s laughing then, darling.” But the way his eyes gleamed with affection told you he didn’t mind losing—not if it meant moments like this.

Wyll:

The living room was an absolute disaster, a whirlwind of crumpled wrapping paper, tangled ribbon, and half-used rolls scattered across the floor. You and Wyll sat cross-legged on the rug amidst the chaos, determined to make progress on wrapping presents for the orphans at Halsin's shelter. The intention had been pure; the execution, however, was rapidly devolving into a comedy of errors.

"I don’t understand," Wyll said, brow furrowed as he wrestled with a piece of overly creased paper. "This shouldn’t be that hard! Fold, tape, fold again. How do people do this?"

You tried not to laugh as you watched him; Wyll’s hands were far too big for the small wooden box he was trying to wrap. His brow furrowed deeply as he pulled a strip of ribbon from the ball, only to somehow manage to tie it to his fingers—and then, with shocking precision, his whole palm became firmly affixed to the paper.

“Uh…help?” Wyll said, sheepishly holding up his hand, now cocooned in wrapping paper and ribbon. He wiggled his fingers, unable to escape his accidental gift-trap. “This was not part of the plan.”

You covered your mouth, your shoulders shaking with laughter. “How did you even—? Wyll, are you trying to wrap yourself?”

“Apparently,” he sighed with a dramatic groan, though the smile on his face told you he wasn’t really upset. “The Blade of Frontiers: slayer of fiends, champion of justice…bested by ribbons and paper.”

“Hang on,” you said, crawling over to help free him. “I’ll rescue you, O mighty hero.”

Before you could finish untangling him, however, you got distracted. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted one of the toy wooden trains meant for the children—a quaint little thing, painted red and green, its wheels polished and ready to roll. Without thinking, you picked it up, running it back and forth on the floor with a soft click-clack sound.

Wyll raised a brow, his hand still half-wrapped like a bizarre festive mitten. “Are you seriously playing with the orphans’ toys right now?”

“I’m testing it for quality,” you replied innocently, rolling the train along an invisible track. “We want them to be happy, don’t we?”

He snorted, watching you for a moment before shaking his head and finally freeing his hand from the ribboned trap. “Maker’s breath, you’re worse than me. Come on—we’re supposed to be getting back on track.”

You sighed and set the train aside, giving him a sheepish grin. “You’re right, back to work.”

However, as you grabbed another roll of ribbon, inspiration struck. Wyll was still sitting there with his horns through his hair, utterly unaware of the devious sparkle in your eyes. Quiet as a whisper, you scooted closer, ribbons in hand.

“What are you doing?” Wyll asked, narrowing his eyes as you leaned toward him.

“Nothing,” you said sweetly, fighting back laughter as you began tying a festive red ribbon onto one of his horns. Wyll froze, a mix of amusement and bewilderment crossing his face.

“Wait. Are you decorating me?” His voice was incredulous, though he didn’t move to stop you.

“Yes,” you replied matter-of-factly, adjusting the bow so it sat perfectly. “Hold still—you’ll ruin my work.”

He huffed dramatically, though his grin betrayed him. “This is absurd. I’m not a…a tree.”

“No, you’re better than a tree,” you said with a wink, tying another bow to the opposite horn. “You’re the most festive champion Faerûn has ever seen.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but when you leaned back to admire your handiwork—bright ribbons trailing from his horns—he started laughing. The deep, rich sound filled the room, infectious and warm.

“If anyone walks in and sees me like this…,” Wyll said, his cheeks flushed as he pulled a loose piece of ribbon from his lap.

“They’ll know you’re the life of the party,” you teased, sitting back with a smug grin. “Besides, it suits you.”

Wyll’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his smile lingering. “You’re lucky I adore you.”

“By the gods I am,” you said with a cheeky wink, grabbing another ribbon and waving it like a threat. “Now hold still—I’m thinking of adding some bells next. Ooh! And a star!”

Wyll groaned dramatically, but he couldn’t stop smiling as you playfully reached for him again. For all the mess and chaos, the two of you sat there surrounded by wrapping paper and laughter, the firelight flickering warmly across the room. It was imperfect, clumsy, and entirely yours—exactly how a holiday together should be.

Halsin:

The grove was finally still, the soft hush of evening settling over the festivities. After hours of chaos—distributing presents to bright-eyed orphans, sharing stories by the fire, and ensuring everyone was warm, fed, and smiling—you and Halsin found a moment to simply be. The two of you had retreated to the great oaken hall, where a large pine tree still stood, its branches weighed down with simple ornaments and twinkling lights. The room smelled of pine resin and the faint embers of a dying hearth fire.

With a contented sigh, you collapsed onto a bench, leaning heavily into Halsin, your body still buzzing from the day’s busyness. He chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating through his chest as he slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“You did well today,” Halsin murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “The children’s laughter… their joy. It was worth every moment of chaos.”

You hummed in agreement, eyes fluttering closed. “It was a perfect Christmas, but exhausting.”

“Indeed,” Halsin said, a teasing edge to his voice. “Though you seem to have missed one thing.”

You cracked open one eye, looking up at him suspiciously. “What? No way. We double-checked the list. Twice.”

Halsin’s lips twitched into a small smile as he nodded toward the tree. “Look again, my heart.”

With a groan, you hauled yourself upright and stumbled over to the tree. Sure enough, tucked just beneath its branches was a small box wrapped in green paper and tied with twine. You blinked, suddenly alert, and picked it up. A gift tag dangled from the twine, with your name scrawled across it in Halsin’s neat, unmistakable handwriting.

You turned around, holding the box aloft and fixing him with an accusing glare. “Halsin. We already exchanged our gifts this morning.”

The archdruid smiled serenely, utterly unrepentant. “I may have planned ahead.”

With a mix of curiosity and suspicion, you sat back down next to him, carefully untying the twine and peeling back the paper. Inside, nestled on a bed of soft moss, was a delicate silver necklace. The pendant was small but exquisitely crafted: a single snowdrop flower, petals inlaid with white enamel, and a tiny glimmering gemstone at its center.

You froze, your fingers trembling as you held it up, the light catching on its intricate details. A lump formed in your throat. Snowdrops—symbols of hope, of rebirth, of beauty in the harshest winters.

“Halsin…” you breathed, barely able to get the words out.

He watched you with infinite warmth, his large hand coming to rest gently on your knee. “It is a small thing, but meaningful. When I saw it, I thought of you: a rare light in the coldest times. It seemed fitting.”

Your chest tightened, emotion swelling as you turned the pendant over in your hand. You knew Halsin well enough to understand the significance of this. He was no fan of crowded cities—the noise, the smells, the clamor of it all. For him to have gone into the heart of one, just to find this for you, made the gift all the more precious.

“You went into the city for this?” you asked, your voice soft, incredulous.

Halsin gave you a sheepish smile, as if the idea of it were no great feat. “I did. I cannot deny it tested my patience, but you are worth that and more.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly wiped at them with your sleeve.

“You big softie,” you choked out, trying to tease him but failing miserably as your voice wavered. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted gently, reaching to take the necklace from your hand. “Here. Allow me.”

You turned your back to him, sweeping your hair aside as his warm, calloused fingers brushed against your skin. He clasped the necklace around your neck, the cool metal settling just above your collarbone. When you turned back to him, his eyes softened as they took you in, the snowdrop resting perfectly against your chest.

“It suits you,” he said softly, his voice low and reverent.

You managed a watery smile, blinking against the tears threatening to spill. “I don’t know how you keep topping yourself, but this… it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Halsin chuckled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You flatter me, my heart. But perfection is fleeting. This moment, however…” He reached up, his thumb brushing a tear away from your cheek. “…this moment I will treasure.”

You couldn’t help but laugh through the tears, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Halsin pulled you against him, his embrace strong and grounding, his chin resting atop your head as you breathed him in—the smell of pine, earth, and warmth.

“I should scold you for making me cry,” you murmured into his shoulder.

“And yet you haven’t,” Halsin teased softly.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your lips curling into a smirk. “Because you’re lucky I love you.”

He grinned, his eyes bright and filled with love as he leaned forward to kiss you—a kiss slow and lingering, full of warmth and tenderness. Outside, the wind howled and snow fell steadily, but in this moment, everything was still and perfect.

Credit to @tsunami-of-tears for the super cute dividers !

The gentlemen as promised! Hope you guys enjoyed this, will hopefully get back to requests now I just really wanted to make sure I got something christmassy out before the holiday is over. - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[russo-woso]

Lia wälti x reader blurb - reader has just had knee surgery and is recovering at home , Lia is running around like a crazy person but reader is like “I’ve been trapped in hospital for days I don’t need a clean house I need my wife🥹”

I just need my wife || Lia Wälti x reader

Masterlist

Summary After surgery, all you need is your wife

Warning Surgery, ACL injury

“What do you need, love? Ice? Water? Your crutches?” Lia questioned as she rushed around the house, collecting everything you could possibly need.

“Lia, baby, relax. I’m fine.” You laughed, watching her nearly slip on the wooden flooring.

You’d just come home from the hospital, having had surgery on your knee due to a ruptured ACL.

There was a slight complication during the surgery so the doctors kept you in for a few extra days.

You hated despised hospitals so being in there for one day was bad enough, let alone being told you had to stay for an extra three.

It was torture for you but Lia stayed by your side the entire time, making your time in the hospital a bit more bearable.

This morning you had been given the go ahead to go home.

You’d signed the discharge paperwork as soon as you could, wanting to desperately get out of hospital.

Lia had helped you into the car, driving so slowly, her having said that she didn’t want your knee to hurt if she drove any faster.

When you arrived home, she ushered you straight to the sofa where you were remained even now - two hours later.

“are you sure you’re fine? I can’t get you anything?” Lia asked, finally settling next to you.

“I’m fine, I promise. Come here.” You gestured for her to lay next to you, her head resting on your shoulder.

“Oh, I need to go clean the hallway. There’s shoes everywhere. You’re going to trip on—” Lia panicked, jumping from her spot but was stopped when you pulled her back into your embrace.

“Lia, everything’s perfect. I don’t need a clean house, i don’t need ice, I don’t need a drink - I just need my wife. Now please, just cuddle me.”

And with that, Lia relaxed in your arms, the two of you finally relaxing after hell in the hospital.

[potatoplace]

So Long, London

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | betty (part 2)| next part

the 1 masterlist (alt endings) | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: An illness spreads through Velaris, primarily impacting new mothers and their young, and you and your child are not spared. Azriel continues to make questionable choices, even as your life lays in the balance.

Warnings: suicide attempt mentions, illness leading to disability, infidelity, Azriel is as expected for this series...

Words: ~5.6k

Author's Note: So I reaaally wanted to get this out in one part, but I have cute fluffy plans for Reader's future in the Day Court. This should be the last of the full on angst in this ending of 'the 1,' after this installment it should be primarily happy times! Also... Can I just say how sorry I am to Azriel? Because in this series I cannot seem to give him one redeeming quality. He's just a total piece of shit the entire time. Aaaanways. I hope you guys enjoy this part!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

It was nearly eight months since Nova’s birth when a mysterious illness ravaged Velaris, primarily effecting young children and their mothers.

And you and your precious baby girl were no exception.

Nova had stopped sleeping for longer than an hour, and refusing all solid foods. She was barely taking the milk you tried to ply her with, her tiny mouth refusing to suckle on the bottle you offered her.

You weren’t feeling much better, and by the time you managed to struggle your way to Madja’s clinic, you were on the verge of passing out.

Your mate was nowhere to be found, and no amount of you tugging on the frail bond summoned him to your side, brought him to comfort you and help care for your baby.

You just barely made it inside the door, Madja’s worried face greeting you as she took in your weakened state, the crying babe in your arms, the lack of your mate by your side. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and just before you fell to the floor Madja was able to take Nova from your arms.

When you woke later, your head felt stuffed with cotton, your lungs and throat burning in pain.

It almost felt like the bond was broken again.

“Oh, thank the mother Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre’s worried voice said, a cool hand running across your forehead.

You cracked your eyes open, squinting at the light above you.

You were back in your room in the River House.

“Nova, is she-” you started to ask, attempting to sit up, but Feyre shushed you and gently pushed you back into the bed.

“Nova is fine, she’s recovering well so far, and she’s even taking soft foods again. You got her here in time,” Feyre said softly, and you let out a relieved breath. Nova is safe. “Madja managed to make a medicine to combat the illness, though it appears to be more effective in children. I was more worried for you, if I’m being honest…”

Feyre’s eyes were watery as she looked down at you, and the situation was so similar to after you had attempted to take your life, the only change being that your other two sisters were missing.

Not for long, though, as your sisters entered the room in the next minute, Nova in their arms.

She looked to be doing so much better than before, her cheeks their normal rosy red and her cute little lips curved up into a smile, which only widened once she saw you, her beautiful hazel eyes growing larger. Her tiny hands reached out for you, wings fluttering as she tried to leave Elain’s arms.

“Can I- is it safe for me to hold her?” You asked, hoping more than ever before that you would be able to. The last time you had held her, she had been so sick, you needed to feel her healthy in your arms again. You pushed yourself up to lay against the headboard, surprised at how tired you were from that action alone. Your lungs and throat felt like they were on fire with each breath, and Feyre quickly gave you a sip of cold water to soothe it.

“I don’t see why not, she won’t be able to get sick again with the medicine still being administered,” Madja’s strong voice said as she entered the room behind your sisters, making her way to your side. Feyre scooted back to give her space to examine you, and Elain quickly placed your precious little girl in your arms.

And everything felt right again, her adorable face staring up at you, hands grabbing at your face. Even as your arms ached from the weight of her, you welcomed it as long as you had her.

Your sweet, guiding light. Your reason for being, ever since you had fallen pregnant.

“Do you know where Azriel is?” You asked quietly as Madja waved her hands over you, examining you with her magic.

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of Nesta at the question, and she snarled, “No. In the night and day that you’ve been unconscious, the stupid bat hasn’t managed to show his face here once. You would think that his mate and child being sick would warrant an appearance from whatever bullshit he’s busy with.”

You sighed, but nodded your head. “It’s alright, I’m sure it’s something important. Nova is the most important thing to him in the world.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and scoffed, but Elain placed a gentle hand on your leg.

“I’m sure you’re right, Y/N. And I’m just so happy that you and Nova are doing better, we were so worried for you,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of losing either of you.”

You smiled at Elain. The two of you had gotten nearly as close as you and Feyre in the past two years since… Everything happened, and you were delighted to be her confidant as she pursued the bond with Lucien, loving to hear about how much they actually had in common, including their love for nature.

It was so nice to hear about a happy courtship for you sister, one that you had nothing to be jealous about.

Except… Maybe the way that Lucien looked at her, like she was the sun that his world revolved around.

Azriel had never looked at you like that, not even during the mating frenzy…

You looked back at Nova, her hands now tangled in your hair and a beaming smile on her face, chubby cheeks nearly covering her eyes.

Nova was your sun, that was certain.

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to advise that you stay on bedrest for the next few weeks, I want you to fully recover from this. Your lungs have been damaged by the illness, and I want to prevent any more form happening,” Madja said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

“Damage?” Feyre asked before you could.

Madja sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid there will be long-lasting damage to your lungs, Y/N. You may no longer be able to run, or walk for long distances. You should be able to carry on with most of your everyday tasks,” she added, as if to console you.

“But… I may never be able to run after my daughter?” You pondered quietly, the thought breaking your heart as you looked at her.

“I’m afraid that might be the case. But, once you’re fully recovered from the illness itself, we can start building your stamina up again. I do hope that you’ll be able to play with Nova however you want,” Madja answered, giving a soft smile to your cooing child.

You nodded your head, attempting to process the information. “Will Nova have the same problems?”

“No, the medicine was effective enough to stop any damage from occurring, and you got her here before she was truly in trouble. You did an amazing job of taking care of her, Y/N.”

Tears pricked your eyes at her kind words.

You had kept her safe.

But as you clutched Nova to your chest, your arms started to tire, shaking slightly.

Feyre, eyes tracking your every movement, noticed. “Can I hold my sweet niece?” She asked, and you reluctantly passed her over, though you were grateful for Feyre giving you an out.

“I’ll have you take this medicine once every four hours, and Feyre can charm the clock to ring for you so you can rest as much as you need,” Madja said as she placed a bottle on your nightstand, next to your water glass.

“That won’t be necessary, at least one of us will be with her at all times,” Nesta said, a hand squeezing one of yours. You turned to look at her, and you were surprised to see a hint of a smile on her face as she looked at you.

“Thank you, Nes,” you whispered. “So I just… Lay here?”

“You’re welcome to do anything that doesn’t require you leaving the bed, so anything like reading, knitting, or sewing would be fine, I suppose. Just make sure you get plenty of sleep, alright?” You nodded your head, and Madja gave you a warm smile in return. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair for now, but I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you again."

And then you were left with your sisters and Nova, who was currently playing with Feyre’s necklace, sticking it in her mouth and sucking on the edge of the moon shaped pendant.

“Feyre, has Rhys had any luck finding Azriel?” Elain asked after a few minutes of all of you staring at Nova, each minute more adorable than the last, in your opinion.

“No, Rhys said his mental walls are still impenetrable without hurting him, but he’s doing his best to track him down,” Feyre said quietly.

You knew where he was.

Or, at least, you had a good idea.

Your mate, your husband had a… Habit… Of spending the night at other female’s homes.

Especially since Nova was born.

It had never lasted past the morning, though.

“It’s fine, he’ll show up at some point,” you said with a sad smile, locking your eyes onto Nova. “Could you get in bed with me FeyFey? That way we can cuddle Nova together.”

“Of course, sissy. Nova missed you, even just overnight. She’s such a momma’s girl,” Feyre cooed as she crawled under the covers with you, laying Nova across her chest so she was looking at you. “I hope my little one is as attached to me when they grow up.”

“Oh, you know that will happen FeyFey. There’s no way that little baby won’t absolutely adore you from birth, with how wonderful you are with Nova,” you assured her, bringing a hand up to caress Nova’s face.

“I agree with you, Y/N, you and Rhys will be such perfect parents. Just look at how the both of you are handling your pregnancy so far!” Elain said excitedly, crawling onto the foot of the bed. “And I can only hope that if Lucien and I have children, that I can be as amazing a mother as you are, Y/N. You make it look so easy, and Nova is so perfect.”

You blushed, though it was hardly noticeable with how warm your cheeks already were. “Thank you, ‘Lainey. I know you’ll be a great mother, you always seemed to have the most motherly instincts.”

Elain blushed lightly and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, it will all start with Lucien and I agreeing to get married and mated fully. But that seems like it’s just around the corner, and I really hope it is. I just know he would be a wonderful father,” she said dreamily.

“Cassian would be good father, I think. Though I’m… Not sure that I would be a suitable mother,” Nesta admitted quietly, crawling under the covers on your other side.

“Oh, nonsense Nes. You’ll be a great mother, too. I didn’t think that I would be the best mother, either, but all it really takes is seeing their face that first time. The first little blink, seeing their eye color, getting to smell that sweet baby smell… Every little moment is so special, you never want it to end. You don’t think you’ll be good at it, Nes, but you will be wonderful. I know you will.”

Nesta leaned into you, her face against your shoulder. You could feel her smile, even as she tried to hide it. “Thank you, munchkin.”

“‘Lainey, get up here. It��s not the same without you snuggled up with us,” you demanded, patting the space next to Feyre.

“Alright, I’m coming,” she said, rolling her eyes as she got under the covers next to Feyre.

Within a few minutes, after taking your medicine and surrounded by your sisters and your sweet Nova next to you, you fell into a deep sleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

“Where were you?!”

“I was busy-”

“Oh? With what? What could be more important than your mate and child being sick?! What could be so important you couldn’t answer your High Lord and Lady within an hour?! Let alone twenty four?!”

“They’re sick?!”

“Yes, you fucking imbecile! Why do you think we were constantly trying to reach you?! Why your mate was unconscious?!”

“I don’t know, sometimes she shuts me out-”

“Oh, don’t try that, Azriel. We all know that Y/N is the one who actually cares about the bond, you just saunter around acting like you do while you’re in front of us.”

“Where do you get off talking to me like that?!”

“Where do YOU get off treating our sister like trash?! If you didn’t want the fucking bond, why-”

“Enough! That is enough from the both of you. Y/N can hear you,” Rhys hissed, and the yelling quieted.

“Where were you, Azriel?” Feyre’s voice.

“I got caught up with some surveillance-”

“Oh, don’t bullshit us Az. We all know that you weren’t assigned anything last night, or this morning.” Cassian.

Silence.

“You- oh Cauldron, Azriel. I cannot believe you,” Rhys said, disgust dripping from his words. “Go in there and tell her. Or I will.”

“What?” Nesta asked. You could almost picture her looking between the two of them, a thunderous expression on her face. She always did hate being left in the dark.

You, though… You were in broad daylight, already knowing what Azriel had to tell you.

This would be the first true confirmation you had of his infidelity, though.

The door opened, the soft sound of the knob turning, and the gentle way he shut it behind him.

“Y/N, I…”

“Don’t, Azriel. I know.”

Footsteps, so quiet you could barely hear it. “You… You do?”

You sighed, rubbing at your chest to alleviate the pain that came with breathing. “Of course I do. Do you really think that your subtle? That your Spymaster abilities transfer over to your personal life? Because they never have.”

“Why did you stay?”

Another painful sigh. “Nova. She deserves two parents.” And I’ve held onto the foolish hope that you would one day love me for me.

“I am so, so sorry, Y/N. Really, you have no idea how sorry I am. I have been a horrible, awful mate to you, but I will do better. I will do right by you, I swear.”

You looked away from his hazel eyes, those hazel eyes that you love so much.

Because you love him. You do.

“Okay. Go get Nova and come to bed.”

Azriel blinked at you. “Okay.”

And that was that. Azriel got Nova from Elain in the other room, who had taken her away at the first sign of arguing. He peeled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes, then came under the sheets, snuggling up next to you with Nova on his chest, already fast asleep.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next month was spent entirely on bed rest, and still in your room at the River House.

Madja has told you it was fine for you to go back to your and Azriel’s home, but… You felt safer, knowing that your sisters were likely to be around, Feyre especially.

Your twin sister had been… Angered, to say the least, at Azriel’s treatment of you, though you’d calmed her to the point that she was mainly only being passive aggressive to your husband.

But once you were able to walk short distances, and manage a few stairs, you felt you had overstayed your welcome at the River House long enough.

Azriel had carried you home, followed closely by Feyre, carrying Nova in a sling across her chest.

You ached to be able to do that again, to be able to confidently hold your child even while standing.

The one good thing about bedrest? It gave you plenty of time to improve your knitting, sewing, and embroidery skills. Nova now had plenty of clothes for the next three months of growth, all fitted to work around her wings while keeping her as covered as possible.

You had already started on a large chest of clothes for Feyre’s expected child, wanting somehow to repay her for all the grief you had put her through over the past two years. And, it was nice to create something and see all of the joyful possibilities that could come with it.

Not that making clothes for Nova didn’t fulfill that for you too, but… It was more the lack of future that you continued to see with Azriel.

You want Nova to have her father in her life, that was true. Azriel was a wonderful father when he wasn’t busy with work or… Other obligations.

But as a mate…? You were left wanting, and hurt.

He did help you with your recovery, making sure that you got enough movement in every day and pushed yourself just enough to keep making progress.

But three months into you being home…

Azriel didn’t make it back in time for bed.

And you knew that you needed to leave.

Elain had come over the next morning, initially to say goodbye. She and Lucien were officially moving to the Day Court that evening, more than ready to start their life together in the court that Lucien would one day rule.

And so, you came up with your plan. Elain went to fetch Feyre and Nesta quickly, knowing that they would need to be told to make the plan a success.

You were on your bed, Nova in your arms when they arrived, bursting through the door frantically.

“You’re leaving?!” Nesta asked in disbelief.

You just nodded your head, running a soothing hand over Nova’s back.

“What prompted this, sissy?” Feyre asked as she sat down next to you.

You knew that they already knew. Or at least heavily suspected.

“Azriel didn’t come home last night… And I can’t do it anymore. Elain said that Lucien already asked Helion if I could join them when they move back when I first got sick and things were… Up in the air a bit.”

Nesta’s change in demeanor was instantaneous, going from disbelieving to thunderous anger, already prepared to burn your mate alive.

Feyre hugged you tightly and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry, sissy. But if this is what you want, I’ll do anything I can to make it happen. Just promise me you’ll come visit at some point? And of course we’ll come visit you and Nova as much as we can manage.”

“Of course, FeyFey, I wouldn’t dream of staying away forever… Just, if Azriel could… Not be over while I am, that would be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll be having a talk with Rhys about possibly banning him from Velaris for all but court duties. I cannot believe that he would do this to you again.”

“Well, we should get packing up the things Azriel won’t notice, Y/N. Just in case he does come home tonight.”

You scoffed quietly. “Unlikely…”

Your sisters helped you pack up most of your and Nova’s clothing, along with all of your crafting supplies. When it became apparent that your mate was out again, tarnishing the bond between you, the four of you quickly finished up, grabbing all of Nova’s favorite things, including the baby blanket that Azriel had painstakingly made for her while you were pregnant.

Nesta stayed behind, having agreed to wait at the town house for Azriel to return, whenever that may be. As disappointed and betrayed as you were by Azriel, you still made her promise to not physically harm him more than a punch to the jaw. Or a kick to the groin.

Feyre winnowed your things first, then Elain, and finally you and Nova, held tightly in your arms as you sped through the fabric of the world for the first time in over two years.

And hopefully the last time, as you had to quickly pass Nova off to Feyre, your lungs on fire from the pressure of winnowing, a long coughing fit overtaking you.

Once you had recovered yourself, you finally had a chance to take in your surroundings.

The hall you had landed in was grand and bright, made of shining marble that reflected the sun's rays beautifully.

In front of you was a male you didn't recognize, but the power rolling off of him in waves and the shine to his skin told you all you needed to know.

Helion, High Lord of Day.

"And you must be Y/N, Elain's sister. Welcome to the Day Court," Helion said warmly as he turned his eyes to you. "And this must be little Nova, Lucien has told me so much about this cutie!"

"Yes, it's lovely to meet you, High Lord. And thank you, truly, for what you've done for us. I... I don't know what I would have done, if not for your generosity."

"Oh, call me Helion, love. And it is no trouble at all, any family of Elain's is family of mine now. Plus... I heard some of what happened, and no person deserves to be treated as you were. I am happy to open my home to you and your little one for as long as you need."

Tears pricked at your eyes against your wishes. "Thank you, Helion."

"Yes Helion, thank you so much for helping our sister out. I am deeply saddened by the fact that I could not provide her with a home where she would be left alone by Azriel," Feyre said, clasping Helion's hands in hers. "And... I know it's a lot to ask, but would you be willing to ban Azriel from your court? I know that as soon as he knows they've left, he'll be out searching for them."

"It would be my pleasure!" Helion replied happily, a bright grin covering his face, radiating happiness like the sun. "I absolutely despise those who do not cherish their loved ones, and if I'm being honest... It would be fun to send him back to the Night Court by the scruff of his neck."

You couldn't help the quiet giggle that left your lips at the mental image you had produced. Nova looked up at you at the sound, her own lips curling up at the edges.

"Well, we should get the three of you settled into your rooms. Feyre, you're welcome to accompany us if you'd like," Helion offered.

Feyre shook her head. "I should be getting back, I still need to explain everything to Rhys. But if it's acceptable, I will visit in the morning and see how the three of you are settling in. Especially you, little Nova," she cooed at your child, who extended her hands to her aunt.

"That would be lovely, Feyre. Send a note ahead of your arrival and I'll make sure there is breakfast waiting for you, or tea if you come a bit later in the morning. Safe travels, High Lady," Helion said. "Oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy! I'll try to keep the news to myself."

Feyre narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "You'd better, High Lord." She turned her eyes to you and Elain, and gave both of you big hugs, and a soft kiss on Nova's forehead. "I'll see the three of you in the morning, alright?"

"We'll see you then, Fey. Winnow safely, okay?" Elain said.

"Oh, I will. Sleep well, and give lots of goodnight kisses to little Nova for me!"

And then she was gone, leaving you in the entrance hall with Helion and Elain.

"Lets get the three of you to your room, hmm? It's been a long night, I'm sure," Helion said softly, and began leading you to your new home for the foreseeable future.

🤍💙🤍💙🤍

Nesta was sat in the darkness of the town house, your former home, stewing in her rage.

How- how had Azriel done this to you again?!

First, you nearly died after he rejected the bond from the overwhelming pain it caused you. And yes, your choice to jump was your own.

But he had promised to you that he would be a good mate. That he would be worthy of you.

Then, you nearly died again while he was nowhere to be found, your child together also gravely ill until Madja had managed to create an effective medicine. And you were permanently harmed by it, barely able to navigate a set of stairs on your own.

And all because he had been out, fucking some other female while he left his mate and child at home during a wave of illness attacking that very population.

To think, you could have been given the help you needed hours earlier, and could possibly have avoided the disability following you now.

And after all that, you had still forgiven him.

You, her sweetest and most caring sister, the one who had never turned her back on any of you. On her.

Nesta knew that she had been an awful person to you, growing up in that rundown shack. And she had ignored you after turning fae, too concerned with her own changed body to bother to apologize to you.

In the time since your fall, Nesta had done her best to do right by you, to be the elder sister that you needed. While she wasn’t the best at comforting others, she was a good listener. She had payed careful attention to you ever since, doing her best to catch any concerning behaviors.

And when you were pregnant with Nova, Nesta had been nearly as protective of you as Azriel, taking the time to walk you to your favorite shops and make sure that you were eating properly.

That should have been her sign that something was wrong.

She should have done something, confronted your bastard of a mate. But there was no changing the past, only the future.

And Nesta would do her damned best at keeping you safe from harm, even a court’s distance away.

And that would start with ripping the Shadowsinger to shreds.

Verbally. You had made her promise to not actually hurt Azriel, beyond a punch to the jaw.

Nesta thought that a punch to the throat would be much more effective. And maybe a knee to the groin.

Just a little something to give him a taste of the pain that you existed in because of his mistakes- if you could even call them that at this point.

No, they seemed to be thought out decisions to betray your trust, to tarnish the bond that he had rejected and forced back to life.

Silver flames threatened to spill from her fingers, ready to burn the male alive, if only she would loose them on him.

Feyre had appeared in the town house about ten minutes after taking you, Elain, and Nova to the Day Court, a soft smile on her face.

“How did it go?”

“Oh, Helion already seems obsessed with Nova, and he was very welcoming to her and Y/N. I think it will be a good change for them. And he agreed to ban Azriel from his court, which solves the possible problem of him tracking them down and trying to force Y/N to come back. I know… I know that she’s serious about this, but she still loves him, even now. I was worried that she might take him back, if he begged enough.”

Nesta scoffed. “Unlikely. The fact that she left without even a note makes me think that she’s done with him, no matter what honeyed words he could try to pour in her ears. The main reasons she stayed after getting sick was to let Nova know her father.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Feyre sighed. “I need to go talk to Rhys, let him know what happened. And honestly, I want to see if he’ll allow me to ban Azriel from Velaris except for his court duties.”

Nesta shook her head, not believing that Rhys would cave to her request. “Good luck with that, Fey.”

“Thanks, Nes. Let me know when the asshole shows up, but I’ll come over as soon as I’m done talking to Rhys.”

“I will.”

Feyre left the house quietly, and Nesta was alone in the darkness once more, rage building a burning fire in her body as she contemplated just what she was going to yell at him.

Five hours later, when the sun had just began to creep over the horizon, the front door opened.

Azriel came into the sitting room, but upon seeing Nesta sitting in the darkness, he stopped in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I think the better question is where were you?” Nesta hissed, satisfied when a flash of fear crossed the Shadowsinger’s face.

Feyre, he’s here.

I’ll be over in a few minutes.

“I was out in Illyria, making sure there were no wing clippings happening.”

“Liar.”

“Oh? And how would you know, Nesta? Are you might High Lord or Lady? Do you assign me my duties?”

“No. But Feyre had already informed me that you had no work tonight, that you were supposed to spend the week leading up to Nova’s first birthday entirely at home. So. Where were you?”

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him, and he turned his attention to looking for something.

He didn’t find it.

“Where…?” He started, panic flooding his scent. “Where are my mate and child?!” He roared, stomping over to Nesta, who had stood from her place on the couch.

“Somewhere you will never see them again.”

And then Nesta struck, first a knee to his groin, followed up by a satisfying fist to his throat. She relished in the pained noises coming from him, summoning her flames once he had recovered.

“You are lucky that Y/N made me promise not to hurt you more,” Nesta seethed as she backed him into a corner. “You should be ashamed of yourself! Y/N was too kind to take you back, when all you do is hurt her! You never deserved her, you never deserved a mate at ALL! And Nova is lucky to not be raised by such a disgusting person, by someone who only lies and cheats and hurts others.”

Azriel was silent, his head hung low, even as Nesta could scent his rage.

“Azriel.” Rhys’s voice, filled with the authority of a High Lord. “You need to leave. You are no longer welcome in Velaris, except when explicitly allowed.”

Azriel’s head whipped to the front door, where Rhys and Feyre were standing, matching angered expressions on their faces.

“But I-”

“No. You have been given chance after chance to change how you act, how you treat members of this family. And I will not stand for you continuing to live here, even with Y/N and Nova gone,” Feyre snarled. “You can live in the Court of Nightmares or Illyria. But Velaris is no longer your home.”

Azriel’s eyes were wide as he looked between Feyre and Rhys, in disbelief at the situation. “Rhys, you can’t be serious-”

“Deadly. And this is an order from your High Lord and Lady: do not attempt to search for them. Y/N does not want you in her or Nova’s life, and you will respect that. Do you understand?” Rhys asked, but there was only one answer that Azriel could give.

“Yes.” His voice was angry as he gave in to his High Lord’s demand. “Will you at least tell me where they are?” He growled as he glared at the three of them.

“No. You do not get to have any information about them, unless Y/N permits it. You do not deserve to know where they are, what health they are in, anything. Azriel, you disgust me. Y/N has given you so many chances to redeem yourself, but you have disappointed her every time.” Feyre’s voice was deadly calm, but her hatred was bubbling beneath the surface. “My twin has been a saint to you, and you have done nothing but hurt her. The one good thing you have done is give her Nova. And if you ever hurt her again, I will kill you myself.”

Azriel gaped at her, and looked at Rhys.

“You should go. Pack what you want, but by the end of today, you are no longer welcome in Velaris,” Rhys said coldly.

The three of them stayed in the living room as Azriel went upstairs, their ears perking up at the gasp he let out when he saw your shared bedroom, emptied of your effects.

You were gone.

You were really gone.

All of your fabrics and threads, the thimble set that Nesta had gifted you, custom designed just for your birthday last year, the baby blanket that he had made for Nova, all of your clothes- they were all gone.

You had left him!

Surely, you weren’t serious. This was just a ploy to get his attention, to make him take the bond seriously again. His family downstairs must be in on it, just trying to go along with your wishes.

So he packed his bags, taking everything that was vital to him. He went into Nova’s room, where she rarely stayed, but her things were kept, and the pain hit him.

Seeing her room with none of her clothes or toys strewn about, none of the life in it, hurt. It hurt more than seeing that you had left.

He would find you. And he would bring you home.

You and Nova belong with him.

And he would show you that.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222 @mellowmusings @romantasyreader28

[dreamtheatre]

how do you think your favorite doctor(s) would act when they're sick or injured and their companion is caring for them? does that make any sense lol

a/n ooo I have ideas for this one!

Pairing: 10/11/12 Doctors x GN!Reader Fandom: Doctor Who Genre: headcannons Word Count: 815 Warnings: slight mentions of injuries

10th Doctor

"what!?"

he would deny needing help, but with enough pleading and puppy-dog-eyes you would eventually get him to settle down enough to let you stop him from going on an adventure

"i'm fine!"

"you got stabbed by a half-platypus-half-jaguar-half-whatever-the-hell-that-thing-was alien on a jungle planet, doctor. you're not fine."

you would try to get him to stay in bed, but whenever you left his room for more than a minute you'd return to find him either jumping up and down on the bed or running around the TARDIS halls.

"i can't just sit around doing nothing all day!" although when you were around in his room he found it fine to sit around.

eventually, you and the TARDIS ganged up on him and the TARDIS locked the door to his room, only opening it when you wanted to leave.

the TARDIS also moved your things to his bedroom so that you could make sure he didn't do anything silly while his injury was being healed, and when his wound had finally healed, both you and the time lord came to a silent mutual agreement that your things wouldn't be moving back.

11th Doctor

like his previous regeneration, he would be in denial that he had any sort of injury whatsoever, even after seeing the results from the TARDIS scan.

you and the TARDIS had to force him away from the console room into his bedroom.

when you lounged around the TARDIS for the next couple of hours, you heard him banging at his door (which the TARDIS had locked) and he only stopped when you finally opened the door for him.

"...yes?"

there would be silence before he spoke meekly. "if you're going to force me in here... at least keep me company?" you weren't exactly complaining.

for the next couple of days, you would help the timelord change his bandages with the assistance of the TARDIS and bring food to him (three whole days of endless requests of jammie dodgers and fish fingers and custard... the only reason you coped was because it was the doctor asking).

he would 100% seek any form of physical contact with you, if you were okay with that. he would lay his head on your shoulder while you watched your favourite TV show. not his, since he stated he didn't have one (he did, but he wanted to watch whatever you wanted to watch). he would fall asleep with his head in your lap as you read whatever book the TARDIS gave you aloud to him.

after he recovered, he would remember all the things you let slip during your conversations with him. your favourite place that you had travelled to with him so far (he would take you back), your favourite foods and drinks, and any place you wanted to go. whatever you asked, the doctor would gladly give to you.

12th Doctor

this doctor would try endlessly to convince you that he's just fine

he's a time lord, after all, a simple, common human cold would not affect him! (that's what he kept telling himself, choosing to ignore the constant coughs and sniffles that escaped from him)

when you ask him if he's alright when you witness him fall asleep for the first time (the doctor... sleeping! you never thought you'd see this day), he waves you off and takes you on an adventure

little did he know that that adventure would end in you dragging him back to the TARDIS after he offended some kind of turtle-human alien hybrid race and was too sick to defend the two of you

after that, the doctor continues to grumble and complain when you insist on not going on any adventures for a while (he secretly is grateful, but he'd never tell you that)

you'd find him asleep in the most random places - on the floor of the console room, in the library... etc

noticing how he's intentionally ignoring your asks to help him, you and the TARDIS work together to find little ways to make him feel better.

you prepare tea in the kitchen and get the TARDIS to send it to his room for him with a small note along the lines of "get better soon!" from you. you make him the comfort meal the two of you found together when you travelled. you send him new books to read and sheet music to play on his guitar

in his absence (he refuses to let you in his room to see him in such a weak state), you find a new guitar appear in your room and you start to teach yourself how to play. you learn a few basic chords and begin to build up your skills until one day, you notice someone standing behind you.

"doctor?"

"yes?"

"are you okay now?"

"yes."

there would be a silent pause before the doctor offered tentatively to teach you how to play the guitar properly, and only a short pause before you agreed.

the doctor would never admit that it was him who gifted you the guitar, though

end xx dreamtheatre requests are open! .

[loveinhawkins]

When he’s really tired, Steve will rub at his left eyebrow bone absentmindedly.

Eddie can’t really pinpoint when he first discovered the habit; it just feels like something he has always known.

Like now, the way Steve’s index finger digs into the arch somehow tells him that Steve had a late night, not through choice—probably lay awake until four in the morning, then began his day with a dull ache radiating from the top of his head.

And… Eddie glances at the clock in his hospital room—yup, Steve’s right on time to crash by four in the afternoon.

He would offer his own damn bed were it not for the fact that he’s more than aware Steve would adamantly refuse.

At this point Eddie almost feels like he has no need of a hospital bed himself, although he knows that’s not true: getting discharged’s on the horizon, but he’s not naive enough to think he’s completely recovered yet—knows his aches and pains will no doubt come back with a vengeance when he returns home.

But that doesn’t change the fact that in amongst the bouts of frustration and boredom, of feeling like all he’s doing is waiting, this little in-between is… nice. He’s gotten into the swing of it by now, knows the pattern.

He’ll keep an eye on the clock, let Steve sleep for a couple hours then gently wake him so he isn’t late: he’s got dinner with the Buckleys tonight followed by a viewing of Murder, She Wrote.

Eddie’s picked up enough to work out that it’s a routine which began last fall; Robin said during their first viewing, Steve sat on an armchair which her dad would usually favour without realising, and her dad cracked an incredibly corny joke about the balance of the universe being disrupted—and she had to privately reassure Steve that the man wearing odd socks, jeans and a faded pyjama shirt at 8pm was, in fact, just kidding.

The routine continued even when things were at their most dire—Eddie knows that he almost caused them to miss an episode at the end of Spring Break.

“Yeah, you really should’ve considered that, dude,” Steve had joked—once they were out of the woods, once he was no longer gripping the back of his chair with white knuckles. (When Eddie could finally breathe a little better.)

“We all have flaws,” Robin said magnanimously; Eddie could feel her hand squeezing his beneath the bedsheets.

A soft clatter of a pencil being dropped onto the floor, rolling to an eventual stop.

Steve’s got a pad of paper resting on his knee. It’s one him and Robin share, taking turns at coming up with more and more outlandish predictions for upcoming episodes.

Eddie can see no such notes on the page right now, not even words: just drowsy pencil trails, getting increasingly faint.

The pad slips from Steve’s knee, slides down to the floor to join the pencil.

Steve reaches for it way too late. Eddie smiles.

“Just leave it, Steve,” he says. “I’ll get it.”

Steve hums in vague acknowledgment. Presses a finger just above his eye, blinks so slowly.

“Mm, why?”

Here’s the song and dance; Eddie could set it to music.

“Cause you’re gonna fall asleep,” he teases, sing-song.

Steve feigns bafflement even as his head’s tipping down to the armrest of the couch. Yeah, another sleepover at Robin’s is definitely in the cards.

“Oh, yeah? How’d you—” a yawn, “—figure that, smarty pants?”

“Guess I just know you,” Eddie says.

Steve’s breathing starts to deepen; his hand gradually falls away from his face, lips already forming unintelligible murmurs. Heavy eyes shut.

And here’s another pattern Eddie’s come to know, like sheet music memorised—engraved on his heart.

Because I love you.

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1846

Chapter 21:

After the sole topic about witch hunters and the bitter past, you all chose to try and get some sleep; needing all the energy you could recover for the next trial.

With the sky being always night, it was hard to keep track of time, and if it weren't for the exhausting trials; one would have trouble sleeping.

While the others slept close to one another, some laying on their jackets for some insulation against the cold floor; you had chosen to leave, for a little bit.

You knew not to stray from the road, but sleep would not come to you, and you needed some alone time.

You barely had one lately, with everyone being on top of one another all the time.

The moon was almost and completely full. Its beautiful white light seemed to follow you; illuminating your path. Your steps were quiet, and you eventually came to a halt, leaning your back against a tree.

You closed your eyes as you let the moon shower you with light, offering a cold warmth you could never explain but always welcomed.

So many nights have you spent in a similar position, neck and back arched to the full moon above you. Endless hours had you spent bathing in its white light, swearing you could hear it talk to you through some ethereal plane.

Some nights, you would hum and sing with the moon as your audience; a silent observer that never judged you, never tried to harm you.

Even when you need it the most, it chooses to grace you with power and help you escape your bonds; showing just how terrifying its power could be when it was passed through you.

Your mind wandered and you gently hummed a tune, the lyrics a mere whisper traveling through the night; not wishing to awake or scare the others.

Come little children

I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come little children

The time's come to play

Here in my garden of shadows

Your white magic had come alive in your hands, dancing between your fingers as if responding to your song.

Yet before you cold continue; you felt a presence close by and your guard was immediately raised.

"I remember that song of yours," Agatha said as she walked out of the shadows and towards you.

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling your heart beating faster for a moment as you thought it was someone else.

"It led us into a lot of trouble that night," you reminded her, memories of your adventures flashing into your mind.

Agatha waved her hand dismissively. "It's not our fault those children thought to take a peak. It was way past their bedtime. The fault lies to the parents."

Her excuse brought a smile on your face, having missed her view of the world. Sometimes, your thoughts could get the best of you, and you failed to see the light in this world; like the people that feared the shadows whenever a new moon was in the sky.

Sometimes, you felt as if you were laying in the bottom of a deep pit; forced to face dark creatures fuelled by your emotions and thoughts; only to always climb to the surface renewed; reborn.

But when you were with Agatha, those things almost never happened. Her unique way of seeing the world had kept you focused, her presence a life vest to keep you aflot during dangerous waters... her kisses and touches, burning you from inside, making your magic core glow so powerful that no shadow ever had the chance to manifest.

Your smile remained, and you silently admired her beneath the moonlight as you stood next to one another, bodies barely touching but equally tempted.

Her expression changed into a more serious one. "Why didn't you call for me?" She suddenly asked, earning a puzzled expression from you. "When you were at the mercy of those witch hunters. Why didn't you call for me?"

You glanced to the side, ashamed of confessing your true intentions.

Time might have passed since your last meeting, but your body remained equally strong. You had the power, a little spell, that would alert Agatha of your presence. You had sworn to her under a blood red full moon that you would use it, should you ever need her help.

You never did, always hesitating; feeling you would pull her away from whatever goal she had in mind. You were afraid you would be a burden, to a woman you sometimes wondered if she would ever come back to you; after all those times, you refused to join her on a mission.

Familiar long fingers grabbed your chin and forced you to look straight into the face of the woman you had fallen in love with, whose initials felt carved on your heart; forever claimed by her.

"You remember I don't like asking more than twice, isn't that right?" She asked you, cutting any nicknames she had for you; a sign of how serious she was.

You tried to nod, but her grip on your chin remained. In the end, you took a deep breath and gathered your courage.

"I didn't want to burden you. Not when I knew how focused you were in mastering the darkhold, " you confessed, making her realize around what time period you fell victim to those barbarians that dared to mark your skin... only she was allowed to do that to you.

If Agatha still had powers, they would have been going crazy around her. She was pissed and you could see it by the darkness in her eyes, by the way she gripped your chin and the way her breathing changed.

In the end, she let you go and stormed a few feet away in an attempt to calm down. If she could use magic, she would have long blasted a few trees around you; it always helped when things were burnt or destroyed.

"This is not the promise you made to me, Y/N," she called you out by your name, one finger pointed at you.

"What would you have me do, Agatha?" You questioned, feeling your emotions getting the best of you. It was a full moon, after all. Y, so you can murder them in cold blood? Add more names to your never-ending list?" Your tone started to rise faintly, doing your best to keep it low and not alert the others.

"Yes," she answered as if it was not obvious enough before marching your way. "You are mine, Y/N," she hissed as she now stood in front of you. "And I protect what is mine..." she took a deep breath. "What is precious to me"

You parted your lips in surprise, never seeing it coming.

Agatha had outloud claimed you as hers, had confessed just how much you meant to her, and she meant it. Every. Single. Word.

You found no words to argue, and whatever anger was once rising had disappeared as if there was nothing there.

In a moment of weakness or perhaps desperation, you chose to act with your body. Your hands grabbed her cheeks and you pulled her towards you, sealing her lips with yours.

Agatha was startled for a moment before she followed, quickly claiming the lead from you by sucking your lips with an inner need. Her kiss spoke of hunger, lust, and need to be with you; to be reminded of the unique flavour your lips always had.

You let her lead, eagerly parting your lips to let her tongue enter. One hand went into her thick hair, fingers tangled with dark locks as you held her tightly; trying somehow to balance the power dynamics between the two of you.

Your back was pressed harder against the tree, one of her hands holding your waist as her body was pushed more against yours.

Eventually, you both needed air and with some reluctance you let each other's lips go; but your hands remained on one another.

She immediately buried her nose to the crook of your neck, continuing what she started by kissing the soft spot of your neck, making you see stars and reminding you she had not forgotten how to play you like an instrument.

You gasped faintly, your grip into her dark locks only increasing, and you forced your eyes closed; trying to fight the feeling of building up pleasure, your body succumbing to her lips and her roaming touch.

Agatha did not continue the torture for long, having taken her dose by finally being able to enjoy you in peace. She would have much preferred to do it in a warm house, preferably on a soft bed, but she had to be patient for now.

Her lips trailed ghostly marks across your collarbone before settling faintly on your lips. The peck that followed was quick, and only then did she stop and pull faintly back.

You looked at her, lips faintly bruised as your noses almost touched. You let go of her hair and instead cupped her cheek tenderly.

"You have no idea how long I have been waiting to hear you say that," you confessed, slightly out of breath.

"What, claiming you?" She questioned as she quickly connected the dots. She gently pushed a strand away from your face. "Sugar, I made you vow to me and call me when in trouble. I made you bleed upon a dark pact. Wasn't this enough of a sign?"

Your cheeks felt slightly flustered. "Should be?" You dared to question, earning a look from her that reminded you not to ruin the mood. "I know it should... but I always wondered... especially now, with Rio..." Your voice trailed off.

"Rio is in the past, hon," she told you in a sweet voice. "You are the present and hopefully the future. That is, if you don't turn me down after all this"

You could not help but chuckle faintly. "I think me agreeing to walk this shitty sadistic road for a second time should be enough of an answer"

Without waisting another time, you moved your hands and pulled Agatha into a much needed hug. You pressed her tightly against you, your nose buried to the crook of her neck; almost hidden beneath her thick locks.

You felt her hugging you back with equal need, your presence easing the turmoil within her heart. She rested her chin on your shoulder, eyes closed as your scent overwhelmed her senses and momentarily clouded her mind.

"I am with you, Ags. From now until my last day on this cursed world. I vow to you in the name of my mother" you confessed.

Agatha stared with wide eyes in front of her, lips parted faintly in silent surprise. Your words were serious, she could tell, but she could also sense the magic within them; an invisible silent spell bowed to a promise.

She could not help but glance at the full moon as you vowed sacredly to your mother, a name you rarely let it leave your lips...for when it did, it meant business.

Chapter 22

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 5

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

When they call your name, you barely react. It isn’t until Andy stands that you realise it isn’t all in your head. You’ve been there for hours. It’s night time and your head is throbbing with tears and exhaustion. Your steps are hollow and unsteady as you cross the waiting room to the nurse. 

Andy walks behind you as you hug yourself and chatter in the sterile cold hallways of the hospital. You’re let into a dim room where your dad lays beneath the light of a bedside lamp. Your own fatigue is underlined by the shadows all around. You rub your eyes with your sleeve as the nurse hangs a clipboard at the foot of the bed and turns to you. 

“He’s sedated. The doctor stitched his wounds and he was given a transfusion. He should recover however we will need to wait for him to be conscious before we can complete all cognitive testing,” she explains. 

“Oh,” you chew on the sweater cuff, unsure what to say. You’re still terrified. 

“Thank you,” Andy says, “when will the doctor be back? We’d like to ask some questions.” 

“Tomorrow. He’s attending the full floor so unfortunately, he’s not available at the moment,” the nurse answers, “the cafeteria won’t be open until 4am but there’s a drive through just down the street. Like I said, he’s under heavy sedation. He likely won’t wake up for some time.” 

You nod and nervously continue to nibble on the fabric, keeping an arm folded over your middle. You look at your dad as Andy thanks the nurse again and she leaves you, giving a reluctant explanation of the call bell. You wiggle your tingling nose as you near your dad and stare at him. 

He’s always been cantankerous but lively. He’s loud where you’re more laid back. He might have his flaws but there were moments you wouldn’t trade. No one’s perfect and he tried his best for all his mistakes. You hate seeing him so... empty. 

“Well, I guess we can hang around, wait for the doctor at least,” Andy suggests. 

“You can go back,” you murmur as you hover by the bed. “I’ll be okay.” 

“Oh, I can’t...” he protests softly, “I wouldn’t feel right. Besides, it’s too late. Cottage country isn’t much for street lights.” 

You hum and blink against a swell of tears. You just want to be alone so you can cry. You dip your chin down and heave a sigh. 

“Look, I... I lost my mom a few years ago. It wasn’t easy, I know but you’re doing yourself no favours wallowing in dread,” he stands near to foot of the bed, “just take a break. Let’s go get some food.” 

You rub your cheek, your eyes fuzzy and itchy as they long to close. You shake off the tiredness and look at Andy. You shrug. You are starving now that you think of it. 

You walk towards him and he backs up. 

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be alright,” he assures you. 

You don’t respond as you walk past him. He follows you out and pauses by the door, reciting the room number before he continues on next to you. He points and nudges you through the halls as you walk aimlessly. 

You go out into the night and ground yourself only as you sit in the passenger seat, the vibrant glow of a drive through sign beaming through from the other window. You look over, the drive down the street lost in the haze of your disbelief. 

“Hey, what do you want? Chicken or beef?” Andy asks. 

You swallow, “chicken?” 

You look back out into the dark bushes opposite the order box and sink in the seat. It just can’t be real. You were on vacation. You were up at a cottage, enjoying the lake and the sun, and then suddenly, the blinding white lights of the hospital and now this. A burger joint somewhere west of nowhere. 

Andy pulls around to the window and idles as you wait. The wafts of french fries stirs your stomach. You look down at your lap as you pick at your nails. 

“There’s nothing I can say to make this better. Or easier but I’ll do whatever I can,” he says as he reaches over you squeeze your shoulder, “just let me know anything you need, sweetheart.” 

He keeps his hand on you, rubbing your upper arm as he watches you. You just peer into the fog that clouds your distant stare. His hand climbs up to tickle your cheek and you flinch away in surprise. You look at him as the window snaps open and he reaches to take the food. You touch your cheek and frown. You must be imagining things. Or maybe it was a bug. 

He hands you the drinks and the bag and pulls out of the drive thru. He steers into and empty spot and parks. You open the top of the bag and sort it out between you. You don’t taste it but you devour it. You’re ravenous. The act of eating keeps you from feeling. 

“We could find a place closer to the hospital,” he says. “If we gotta be out here for a while.” 

“I told you, you can go back,” you mutter as you hold the straw just in front of your lips. 

“I don’t feel right leaving you. If it was Jacob, I’d hope your dad would do the same,” he flips on the overhead light and unfolds a napkin, “oh, jeez,” his lips curve slightly and he reaches across, surprising you as he wipes your chin, brushing your lower lip, “you got something.” 

You wince again and lean away from him, sucking the straw to hide your discomfort. He pulls back and crumples up the napkin. He goes back to pick at his tray of fries. 

“How long... he can’t stay up here, can he? Can’t they send him home?” You wonder. 

“Well, I don’t know, does his insurance cover medical transfers?” Andy asks. “You know, I’ve seen a lot of insurance cases in my time, they’ll find any loophole not to pay out.” 

“I... didn’t think of it.” 

“How can you? You’re dealing with a lot right now, and that’s understandable,” he says, “so let me take a little bit off your plate.” 

You inhale and let it out all at once. He’s right. You don’t know how to do any of this. You’re not ready for this. You’re not even out of college. You’re not really an adult yet. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. 

[newtthetranswriter]

Hello,

Is it possible to have a one shot about Natsu reuniting with his s/o after he left for his 1 year of training ? Like he left only a letter for them ( the same way he did for Lucy ) but his s/o is upset when he come back ( bc seriously who leave like that ) like an angst/hurt to comfort kind of one shot? Thank you !

Word Count: 3168

Paring: Natsu Dragneel x gn! Reader

Warnings: Possibly Ooc Natsu and Lucy, Canon typical violence

A/n: Hello thank you so much for requesting this. I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoy it and that it reaches your expectations. Anyway, have a great day and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

    After the fight against Tartaros I had spent a few days in the hospital to recover from the few injuries I had received during the fight. Natsu visited me on the first day checking in on me to see if I was okay, but before I could make sure he was okay he said he had something he needed to do before leaving. On day two Lucy told me that Master Makarov had decided to disband Fairy Tail. It also felt like she was hiding something else but I didn't push it.

    When I was finally free to leave on day three, I was shocked that Natsu and Happy hadn’t shown up to walk me home. I brushed it off as they were busy trying to figure out what we were going to do now that Fairy tail was no more, I made my way to our shared home. Reaching the small house on the edge of Magnolia, I was stunned by how quiet it was.

   “Natsu, Happy, I’m home.” I called out, opening the front door expecting to be greeted by one of them. “Hello, Natsu, are you guys home?” I said looking around the space. It was weirdly clean considering Natsu and Happy were known to be bad at cleaning up after themselves. Looking around some more I noticed that there was a small envelope laying on the counter. I cautiously picked up the envelope, taking note of the wax seal that was pressed with N in holding it closed. Gently breaking the seal, I pulled out the contents.

    Dear Y/n,

   Happy and I are going on a training mission. We’ll be back in a year or so. I would have asked you to come along but I know how much you like being around our friends at Fairy Tail, so I figured you would want to stay behind. Plus you’re still recovering from the fight and I need to start training soon if I want to beat Zeref. Anyway stay safe and don’t forget that I love you. Also Happy wants you to know that he left some fish for you so you don’t have to worry about getting back to work right away. Well we should be off, again stay safe, I love you and I’ll see you in a year.

  Sincerely,

Natsu and Happy

P.s. there’s also a stash of jewel in the small box on our nightstand. Feel free to use it however you want.

  By the time I finished reading the short letter, I had tears streaming down my cheeks. Not only had the Guild I called home for most of my life just up and disbanded, but the one person who promised to be by my side no matter what, left. Not only did he leave, but he felt that a note was better than telling me to my face that he planned on leaving. I probably sat on the floor in the small makeshift kitchen for a couple hours before I decided to get up.

   As I was making my way to what used to be mine and Natsu’s shared room, there was a knock at the door. Hoping that maybe they had decided to come back for me, I wiped my eyes reaching for the door. Before I could welcome them home, I made eye contact with Lucy. Realizing it was in fact not Natsu but our close friend, I broke down in tears once again. Not being able to hold myself up, I slumped against Lucy crying into her shirt.

   “Hey it’s going to be okay.” She said softly while patting my back. “Let’s get you sitting down and then you can talk about it if you want.” The blonde said gently moving me off her chest and ushering me to sit on the small couch in my living room.

   After another hour of me crying into Lucy’s shoulder, I finally stopped and just looked forward to the empty room. “It feels wrong not having those two causing mayhem.” I whispered out as if talking any louder would break something.

   Lucy nodded as she rested her head against mine. “I know not having Natsu lighting something on fire is weird.” She said, before lifting her head off mine. “I’m sorry, I should have told you when I visited you yesterday at the hospital. I just didn’t know how.” she explained, I could tell from the shakiness of her voice that she meant it.

   “It’s not your fault Lucy, actually I’m kind of glad you didn’t tell me. I might have blamed you for it. But after reading the letter I know the only person to blame is Natsu.” I said, looking towards the letter that I apparently never set down. “I want to understand and accept that he’s going through a lot because he had to watch Igneel die, but I can’t help but be angry.” My emotions were a mess as everything set in. “He just left me with only a note and expects me to be okay with that. What am I supposed to do Lucy? Fairy Tail is done, so I won’t be able to find any work, and everyone from the guild is going to be leaving town soon so what am I supposed to do?” I asked hoping my close friend would have some answers.

   She sighed before pulling me back in for a hug. “I’m not sure Y/n, but we can figure it out. I’m sure of it.” Lucy said. It was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Hey, why don’t you join another guild? I heard that Wendy and Carla are going to join Lamia Scale, maybe you could go with them.” She suggested.

   I thought for a moment, she was right, I could join another guild. But what would I do with my house? It's not just mine after all, it’s Natsu and Happy’s as well. I can't just sell it, and what if they come back sooner. Everything was running through my head a mile a minute. I looked to Lucy before my brain settled on a single thought. “What are you going to do?” I asked hoping that hearing her plan would help me figure out mine.

   “Oh, I was going to try and get a job with sorcerer weekly. I’ve always wanted to be a writer so maybe I could get an editing position there.” She said after a moment of thinking. 

   Taking in the information I thought for a moment, before making up my mind. “I think I’m just going to stay here for now.” I said, earning a confused look from Lucy. “I can find a job here in town and that way I’m here if Natsu and Happy come back early.” I said with a weak smile.

   She still looked confused but sighed. “If that’s what you really want, then okay Y/n. But don’t get your hopes up, I doubt Natsu would say he’ll be gone for a year if he doesn’t mean it.” She said standing up.

   “Well it’s Natsu who knows what he’s thinking. And plus someone has to keep the house clean while they’re gone. I’ll be fine, and think of it this way at least you’ll know where to find me if you ever need me.” I smiled up at her. “Promise that if you make it big working for Sorcerer Weekly that you’ll write to me and keep me updated on how things are going.” Lucy nodded, smiling before leaving. That night I barely slept, thinking about Natsu and how I hoped he was okay.

    When I woke up the next morning, I was startled by how quiet and cold the house was. But after walking out to the living room and seeing the discarded letter from Natsu on the table, I was reminded of everything that happened. I sighed before going to make myself a quick breakfast and deciding that after eating I would head into town to find work. Without Fairy Tail and without Natsu, I would have to find work soon.

    Time Skip

    It’s been a year since Fairy Tail disbanded. Which also means it’s also been a whole year since I last saw Natsu. I had stuck to what I told Lucy that night and got a job in Magnolia, staying in the house I once shared with Natsu and Happy hoping that one day they would finally return home. Lucy also kept her word and after she moved to the Capital for her job with Sorcerer Weekly, she would send letters regularly to keep me updated on her life and any information she had heard about our Fairy Tail family. Eventually as the Grand Magic Games came around, Lucy sent me an invitation saying that since she was working as a reporter for the event, she was given an extra ticket and thought I might want to watch the games. Needing a small break from Magnolia, I left for the capital ready to spend time with Lucy and see what the current top Guilds had to offer.

   The games had been interesting enough. Not as crazy as last year when Fairy Tail completely wiped the floor with the competition, but it was still fun to watch. As the final battle to decide the top guild ended, I was stunned into silence feeling a very familiar Magic start to envelope the stadium. The whole stadium followed suit as a hooded figure appeared in the arena. After a moment heat started to take over the arena and I could hear Lucy saying something about everyone needing to leave.

   Focusing on the figure and the feel of their magic I knew right away who it was. “We need to find some wizards who can fight him off.” Lucy said as the figure produced flames and began fighting the wizards in the stadium.

   “Lucy I don’t think anyone in this Stadium is going to be strong enough to fight him off.” I said as I walked up next to her, holding my arm over my face trying to block the heat. She looked at me confused. I just nodded towards the fight. “Just watch.”

   She still seemed confused but turned back to the fight. As the heat rose and the stadium began to melt I watched as realization struck Lucy. Just as she was about to say something, the announcer beat her to it. “It’s Natsu Dragneel.” Earning a massive cheer from the crowd. 

   As if on queue from the announcement, a familiar blue cat popped up between me and Lucy. “Hey, It’s been awhile. How you doing?” Hearing the exceed’s voice I turned and offered a small smile. 

   Lucy also turned to our flying friend. “Happy, you’re back.” She exclaimed, still covering her chest after Natsu’s heat melted her clothes.

   “Yeah, well Natsu insisted on challenging whoever won this year’s Grand magic Game. So here we are I guess.” Happy explained.

    I nodded, turning back to the fight, or well what was supposed to be a fight but looked more like an execution. “They don’t seem to be putting up much of a fight.” I heard Lucy say as she observed the same thing as me. I watched for only a few more seconds, listening to Natsu yell as he took on random wizards who jumped into fight him, before turning to Lucy.

   “I’m gonna head back to your apartment to rest.” I said, earning a confused look from both her and Happy. “I’m just tired and it’s super hot right now. It was nice seeing you Happy.” I explained as I walked away giving a gentle wave towards Happy. 

   As I walked away I heard Happy begin to follow me. “Wait Y/n, don’t you want to say hi to Natsu?” I paused in my trek out of the stadium. He wasn’t wrong. I did want to say hi to Natsu, but actually seeing him for the first time in a year all my emotions i thought I suppressed came rushing back.

  “Look Happy, I’m glad to see that you both are ok but I can’t see him. Not right now. I need to take some time and gather my thoughts.” I said looking at the cat. I watched as his face dropped. “Hey don’t be sad, you’re Happy you should be happy. I’ll talk to him later. You guys have fun with Lucy.” I offered him a gentle smile.

   He looked off to the side before sighing. “Okay, but we did miss you while we were gone.” He said as he gave me a quick hug. I returned the hug patting his head before waving him off and moving to leave the stadium.

   After I reached Lucy’s apartment, I realized I would only have a short period of time to process everything before Lucy came back and Natsu would definitely be with her. I sighed before deideng that I would go for a walk to clear my head. Quickly writing a note on a spare piece of paper saying I would be back later, I left the apartment again.

   I had been walking around the city for quite a few hours just thinking of how to deal with Natsu being back. Sure I was happy that he was okay and that he came back but the hurt from him leaving felt fresh. Taking a seat on one of the many little bridges that dotted the town, I sighed watching the water. I thought I had finally found a quiet place to work out my emotions, but before I could really start thinking, I heard footsteps approach from the side.

  “You’re avoiding me.” I froze up at the sound of his voice. “Why?” Natsu asked as he sat next to me. Refusing to look at him, I shook my head. “Don’t lie to me Y/n, I could smell you at the stadium, and then at Lucy’s apartment. Plus Happy said that you needed to gather your thoughts, whatever that means.”

   My shoulders sagged as I sighed. “I’m sorry. I just got scared, I guess.” I said not knowing what else to say.

   I could feel the bewildered look he was giving me without even looking at him. “Scared, of what? It’s just me. I’m the same guy I’ve always been.” He said as if it was the most obvious answer. Sensing that I still wasn’t ready to talk he sighed. “I should be the one apologizing. I left without talking to you first and that was terrible. I didn’t think that Gramps would disband the guild so I figured you would still have everyone in Fairy Tail to lean on. I was so focused on getting stronger and fighting Zeref that I failed to see I was being a shitty friend and an even shittier boyfriend.” Natsu said, hesitantly reaching for my hand. “I’m sorry that I left like that. Please let me make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want me to just please don’t leave me.” Hearing the hurt in his voice, I finally looked at him.

   It was rare to see Natsu cry and so seeing the tears gently fall down his face startled me. I wanted to just cave and accept his apology and let things go back to the way they were, but I needed to say my piece. “I agree you were a shitty friend and a shitty boyfriend. I was already hurt physically from fighting Tartaros, then Lucy told me the Guild broke up and to top it off when I got home all I was greeted with was a letter. I was broken, I thought I wasn’t good enough, that the reason you didn’t bother to wait for me to heal was because you figured I’d just hold you back.” I began venting out the feelings I had kept bottled up for the past year. “Natsu I waited for you everyday. I woke up hoping that it was all just a dream and that you and Happy would be there arguing over whether or not fish should be cooked. And it broke me to live in our little house all alone, it took everything in me not to abandon it and move on.” I watched his face fall even more at the idea of me leaving our shared home. “But every time I got close to giving in to my dark thoughts and leaving, I remembered that you were out there somewhere and you would need somewhere to return to.” I explained, watching as his face slowly lightened up. 

   Taking a moment to breathe, I thought about what else I need to say. “I’m not saying we can go back to exactly how it was before, but I would be ok with trying again. Just promise that if you want to go on an extended training mission again, you talk with me first. And I mean actually talk to me, not just leave a letter saying you’ll be back in a year.” I said, giving him a pointed look. 

   And like magic, Natsu went from a hurt puppy dog to a puppy that was just given his favorite toy back. “I promise. I’ve missed you so much, I regretted leaving you behind every day I was gone.” He said with a bright smile. “Can I hug you now?” I laughed at the question, but nodded. I was quickly pulled into his arms, and I couldn’t help but sigh as I was enveloped by the familiar gentle smell of smoke that always lingered on him. “I really did miss you.” I heard him say as he buried his face in my neck.

   Patting his back and nuzzling into his scarf, I let out a small sound of agreement. After spending a few minutes in Natsu’s arms, I finally pulled away as a question suddenly struck me. “How did you find me all the way out here? We’re nowhere near Lucy’s apartment.” I asked.

   He tilted his head for a second before speaking. “I followed your scent, obviously. When we got back to her place and Lucy read your note, I wanted to head out right away, but her and Happy made me wait to give you time to think.” He explained like it was obvious. “Speaking of Lucy’s place, do you know the way back cause I have no clue where we are.” He asked.

   I laughed, of course he was able to track my scent after hours of me walking around but ask him to find a specific apartment in the big city and he draws a blank. “Yes, Natsu, I know the way back. Let’s go before Lucy and Happy start thinking I killed you or something.” Natsu laughed in response before offering his hand to help me stand up. Once I was standing he pulled me into another hug, placing a kiss on my forehead before pulling away and motioned for me to lead the way.

[searchingforgravity]

Someone walks in on you and elvis having sex and it is really awkward

I love this concept! Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 1656

Usually, Elvis is the one begging you for sex. All. The. Time. For the past few days, though, everything has been crazy around Graceland, leaving Elvis very preoccupied. You can't even count the amount of people that have been through the house the past seventy-two hours.

Right now, a party is in full swing at the Graceland house, having well over thirty people surrounding the living room, and Elvis himself. Lucky for you, Elvis never lets you out out sight for too long.

"Honey, there you are, get over here," he calls, making eye contact with you from where he sits on the couch.

You smile as you try not to push past people to get to him. When you finally approach, he smiles up at you, his eyes gleaming. He looks gorgeous. Your eyes travel to his brown shirt and black pants that hug his hips perfectly.

"Hello baby, you're even more beautiful from the last time I seen ya'" he mumbles as you sit next to him, before pulling you into a tight embrace.

You roll your eyes humorously as you kiss his cheek. It's only been about five minutes since he's seen you; you stepped away briefly to use the bathroom. Your mouth lingers around his ear as your hand squeezes his thigh gently.

"You look so good tonight, Elvis," you mumble before pulling away.

His eyes immediately meet yours. Very rarely do you have to initiate anything sexual, so Elvis has begun to be hyper aware of when you do.

"Does my baby need me?" he murmurs as he pulls you back to him, his arm snaking around you to pull you close.

Thank God for the loud music. Even with everyone around, there's no way anyone would be able to hear the two of you. After Elvis pulls you in for a private conversation, the other guests start talking amoungst themselves.

You sigh as you lean into him.

"How do you know that? Is it that obvious," you laugh, your cheeks flushing briefly.

"Only to me."

He leans over, kissing your cheek as his hand squeezes your hip.

"I don't think anyone will miss us for a few minutes, do you?" he groans, nipping at your ear.

"There are so many people here, Elvis."

"I know. Exciting, Ain't it?"

At this point, you really shouldn't be shocked. Elvis is very adventurous to say the least. Before you have time to respond, or think your way out of it, he says something else.

"Why don't you go upstairs and put on that pretty little thing I like so much? I'll be there in just a few minutes."

---

You lie in bed, propped up on your shoulder as you strain to hear footsteps coming up the stairs. It's been about ten minutes since you've been here, and you're starting to get a little impatient. You huff as you allow your head to fall on the plush pillow. Your mind wanders to how amazing Elvis looks tonight. His smile shining as you saw him talk with the guests, the way his thighs look in those pants...

You are about to lose your mind when you finally hear footsteps. Not a minute later, Elvis pops into the room, quickly shutting the door behind him. As he turns to face you, he is silent as he walks over to you.

"Thank God, I was starting to miss-" you start, sitting up, but are cut off when he approaches, his lips pressing against you with a bruising force.

Your body shivers.

"Lay down baby, fuck I love that dirty little nighty," he groans, his hands flying to his shirt as he quickly works on the buttons.

Once you recover from the shock of Elvis' enthusiasm, you lean up kissing his neck and help him with his shirt. Once he tugs it out from his pants, he immediately discards it on the floor before turning his attention to you.

Pulling you close to him, he trails his hands over your waist, his eyes travelling down your body as he takes in your pink silk, short nightgown.

"So pretty, baby. So pretty," he murmurs, his hands hiking your nighty up, exposing your naked bottom half and stomach.

He hums in approval as he brings his lips to kiss your stomach before traveling back up to your face, capturing your lips in his. Sighing into the kiss, you deepen it, slipping your tongue into his mouth, causing a groan to erupt from him.

Hastily reaching for his belt, you undo it quickly before unzipping his pants. He helps you pull them down as he takes his throbbing member in his hand.

"How bad do you need me baby? So bad you couldn't wait for everyone to leave huh?" he breathes, his eyes connecting with yours, his pupils blown.

"No, I couldn't. I need you so bad, I've been thinking about it all day," you whine, making him groan.

You take a minute to look at him as he focuses on bringing his finger to your opening, sighing when he feels how much you need him, before traveling to your clit. In the midst of you gasping at the contact, you look at him with this chest bare, his dick in his hand, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He looks gorgeous.

"You look so good, Elvis," you moan, admiring him completely.

He looks up at you, a small blush on his face. He smiles.

"You look better. Look so beautiful honey, can't stop thinking about you wanting me in front of all those people. Woulda taken you right there if I could."

With that, he removes his hand from your center, bringing it to pin your hands above your head while his other comes to position himself.

You both gasp as he slips himself inside, not wasting time as he slowly starts rocking his hips into you.

"Fuck, Elvis," you groan, your hands clenching as he brings his free one to your clit.

Bringing his lips to yours, he kisses you gently before resting his forehead on yours.

"I told some people I was goin' to the bathroom. We might not have a lotta time," he mumbles, his breath already ragged.

"It's okay, just go hard, honey."

He growls as his hand tightens on yours. You suck in a breath as you prepare for what's about to come. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming into you, setting a fast pace as he does this over and over again.

You try not to be loud, but it's so hard as he brings his lips to your neck, whispering in your ear.

"Turns me on so much that you want me this way, with all those people down there. Dirty fuckin' girl."

You can't help the moan that falls from your lips as your eyes screw shut.

"Shh, don't want anyone to know what we're doing, or do you?" he pants, his pace speeding up on your clit.

"Yes, I want people to know. I belong to you," you whimper, making him moan out, masking it as he shoves his face in your neck.

He keeps that same harsh pace, making small noises erupt from you with every thrust. You try to contain it, but his pace on your clit increases further, making your back arch.

"Fuck, Elvis, that feels good," You groan before bringing your mouth to his shoulder, biting down.

He groans louder as he snaps his hips with more urgency. Your head falls back to the bed, a whine escaping you as he mumbles incoherent words about 'fuck you feel so good' and 'needed me so bad, didn't you?'. You start to feel a familiar feeling approaching you as your hands strain against his. He tightens his grip.

"Is my baby close?"

"Yes, Elvis I'm getting-" you start, but something stops you.

The door to his bedroom opens. You gasp, both at the intrusion and how painfully close you were. Suddenly you make eye contact with Jerry.

"Hey E! Everyone's wondering-" Jerry starts before stopping, seeing the sight before him as his eyes connect to yours, his face immediately flushing.

Elvis pauses immediately, pulling out of you before hastily trying to pull the covers over you, but failing as your both on top of them. Rage starts radiating off of him.

"Oh my God," you gasp covering your face in mortification.

"Jerry, get the fuck out!" He shouts, trying to shield your body with his naked one.

"Oh, God, sorry," he gasps, slamming the door shut.

There is silence for a moment as you still have your eyes covered, embarrassment surging through you.

"Goddamnit," Elvis groans, embarrassment in his voice.

You remove your hands from your face and look at him. He is still in a protective position above you as he looks down at you, his face red.

"I can't believe that just happened," you groan.

"Did he look at you?" he murmurs, his hands coming to smooth out your hair.

You suddenly let out a snort at how terribly embarrassing the moment was. The snort turns into a laugh you can't control.

"(Y/N)! he looked at you?!" he asks incredulously, his head dipping down to yours in secrecy.

"Elvis, it was probably hard not to," you reason.

Jerry definitely got an eyeful.

"He shoulda tried harder, cuz now I'm gonna kill him."

You sigh as you trail your fingertips along his back. He sighs as he kisses your cheek gently.

"We should probably go back down huh?" you ask with slight disappointment in your voice.

"I'll take good care of you tonight baby," he whispers, his lips traveling to your forehead.

"I'll have a fuckin' hard on the rest of the night, though," he groans, his face suddenly contorting in discomfort.

You laugh softly as you bring his lips to yours, pulling down your nighty as you prepare to get up.

Masterlist

Tag List:

@horrorgirl4life @goldobsessionsworld @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @father-of-2cats @sissylittlefeather @elvisalltheway101 @littlehoneyposts @atleastpleasetelephone @ccab @msamarican @presleyhearted

[toxicanonymity]

can we have another sex pollen fic 🫣🫣🫣

picks up after Lazaretto where you were precautionarily quarantined together and subjected to a treatment that had a sex pollen effect on Joel 🥵. Check content settings if you can't see that one.

Lazaretto: Horny reader

1k / Joel x horny!f!reader

Warnings: Horny reader pressures Joel for sex as he struggles with guilt / fear. Jacking off. unsafe P in V sex. Prev story (referenced) was noncon. Unedited.

☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

After Joel is seized by the fog and ferally pounds you, y’all still have another 24 hours in the tent together nearly nude before they’ll let you go. It's a long time to spend with someone in these circumstances. Long enough for you to recover and need more.

He’s traumatized by the experience, overwhelmed by guilt. You reassure him it felt good, as if he didn’t already know you came on his cock, but that doesn’t make him feel any better. He's torturing himself. He’s still feeling the fog, too, even though it’s faded.

He has a hard dick, but by now he’s regained enough control to restrain himself. He’s too ashamed to even relieve himself in front of you. Too ashamed or too afraid of what he might do. You spend most of the day pretending to nap so he can periodically jack off unembarrassed. He grunts and sighs as quietly as he can. You don't want him to know you notice, but it's the hottest thing you've ever heard, and the fact that he’s trying to be quiet only makes it hotter. The squish of his skin and his stifled sounds of pleasure have you starving for his cock.

You wish he’d just fuck you again. You’ve offered. You’ve asked. You’ve borderline begged. You want it that bad. You’re stuck in a tent, horny as hell, with Joel and his hard cock. What’s more, you’re aware of what he can do with it, and every few hours you have to hear him fucking his fist instead of your needy cunt. Your ass is sore, but your pussy wants more. The hornier you get, the more you lose patience. Finally, you’ve had enough and pretend to “wake up.” When you sit up on the cot and face him, he’s cowering on the floor pressing the heel of his palm into his aching member, with his eyes swollen from tears.

“I need something,” you say. “Anything.” You slip your hand under your gown and start touching yourself.

“Can’t give it to ya, sweetheart. It ain’t right,” he says for at least the third time today.

“No, Joel. God, I’m sick of hearing that.” You don’t stop touching yourself. "What ain’t right is you not giving me a choice right now. Gimme the choice you couldn’t give me earlier.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Get over here and lie down on the cot,” you tell him, your voice more gentle than the words. “Let me take what I need," you add.

He rubs his temples with the thumb and ring finger of one expansive hand. He shakes his head, then looks at the ceiling of the tent. A few seconds later, he hesitantly stands up with a groan like his whole body hurts. You avert your gaze from the considerable tent in his gown as he makes his way to the cot trying to hide it.

Joel lays down on the cot and says, "You don't have to do this. You really shouldn't." You feel a little bad for him, but you do have to do this. Your body needs it. In your mind, it will benefit you both. "I don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart. Get me started, I dunno if I can stop."

"Relax, Joel." You get on top of him and pull up his gown, your breath hitching at the sight of his commanding cock. You take your own gown off entirely, hoping the sight of your tits helps him get on board with this. You watch his face darken as you position yourself on top of him and both his hands come gently to your breasts.

"Fuck," he breathes as he palms your nipples with his tired eyes nearly closed. You notch the angry tip of his cock at your weeping cunt and he shudders "Ohh, God," pinching his eyes shut. His hands slide down to your hips then he opens his eyes again. As you begin to sink onto him, he pulls you down hard and lifts his hips, sheathing his stiff member in your warmth. He grunts and you sigh as you're impaled on his rock-hard length.

"Fuck, you feel good," he winces.

You lean forward and tilt yourself to press your most sensitive place against his pubic bone, softly cushioned by hair. You begin to move your hips, grinding against him and giving him space to rail in and out of you. His thick cock is hurried along by your ample slick each time he impales you. His eyes water, swollen and sensitive from his earlier tears, and his rough hands grip your ass harder. He kneads your cheeks and you wince in pain each time they spread.

Joel grunts and sighs as he buries his length in you. Your knees squeeze his broad torso as your clit begins to twitch. His face is overtaken by the inner animal again and he begins to rail you mercilessly, pulling you down harder each time he thrusts up into you. You lift up his gown and slide it up his torso, then rest your hands on his pecs for leverage. The sight of his scars and light chest hair make you weak and his firm pecs under your palms make you twitch more. You push your ass down and back as he fucks up into you.

You lower your torso against his, slipping your hands under his arms and resting them on the cot. With the added contact, you’re close to the brink. He plunges his thick cock into you for another minute, your walls gripping him each time he fills you up. You teeter on the edge of your climax, then he grunts loudly and pleasure seizes you, from your clit spreading inward, strangling his cock as you sigh. His nipples harden against your breasts and he shudders then explodes inside you with a long, low sigh.

You stay on his cock and he reaches down to the ground to pick up the blanket. He covers your bodies and you fall asleep with him inside you. Finally you both get some much-needed rest.

-

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339    @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy  

[hotluncheddie]

high masking autistic steve harrington follow on from this post

ao3

wc: 2.6k | rated: T | cw: description of a meltdown with semi aggressive stimms | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie and robin but this is about stevie), hurt/comfort, stobin soulmates, steddie, steve Harrington has shitty parents

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

he failed. he graduated. but he failed. those unsaid words between him and his parents. some get said. the bad ones, about him, they get said. over again like he’s 5 and being told is behaviour isn’t acceptable. that how he is isn’t right. ‘shape up or ship out’, basically. steve knows he can’t go anywhere new, not right now. only freshly recovered, physically at least. mentally; he’s still unacceptable. 

when steve works at scoops. it’s so fucking bright in there. so fucking bright, all day and he can’t focus and talking to people gets so much harder. it’s not like school where he can zone out in class and turn it on during lunch, in between, keep up his face with the people around him and sink back into his head during chemistry. no. now it’s all the time, customer after customer. that he has to talk to, put on a smile for, read so he gives them what they want and they leave happy. it’s exhausting. girls don’t like him anymore, they don’t react to him the same way. he doesn’t think he likes them much either though because they’re so much more annoying when it’s so fucking bright. 

but robin (robin who cycles to work with sunglasses on and doesn’t take them off till she has too) she turns the lights down during open and close. so those couple hours, it’s not so bad. not so stressful. a little bit less loud. 

after the mall burns down steve starts letting her in. tries too. she makes it obvious enough to him that she wants him there. she asks him to stay and calls him at night and he just wants to be enough for her. eventually he’d swallowed his pride and bolstered his courage and called her after a string of nightmares. asking her to stay the night. but then she was there, and it was like everything was thrown off. she was grating on his already freyed nerves but he didn’t know what to say. how to fix it without upsetting her. 

but that night, a mirror of the mall bathroom played out in steves en-suite. steve had freaked. hidden. but she didn’t leave. and he tried to explain. 

he needs her but he doesn’t know how to have her as a true friend. ‘i dunno how to talk to a girl if i don’t wanna date them. i uh, maybe, don’t really know how to talk to someone as myself. as a friend. sorry.’ 

‘well i don’t know how to talk to jocks so. same boat.’ and she has this glint in her eye. like she knows. and it’s okay. 

because robin, she made it simple. she makes it easy. she says just ask and she’ll be honest and give him a yes or no. she’ll say if she can’t be touched right now, or if the movie he chose is pissing her the fuck off. and she wants the same from him. if the music is too loud, if she needs to let him not speak for a while. wants him honest and present and real. real friends. someone close. finally. 

it’s rocky at first. she’s honest and he’s not used to it. it feel like criticism more often than not. makes him see red and lash out, like he was never able to with his parents. but he apologises and she stays. and he’s learning; that’s it’s okay, he’s not perfect and that means she’s knowing the real him. and she’s still his best friend even if he has to tell her to stop picking her nail polish off around him because it makes him want to die. and she laughs at him the first time she sees him in real recovery mode; hair not styled and he has on the only sweatshirt that ever feels good when he’s like this. 

they lay on the floor in darkness and silence. it’s perfect. they share a tin of soup and a grilled cheese. it’s perfect. 

being around robin as much as he is, its so new, having someone see so many parts of you. sometimes she laughs at him asking steve ‘why’d your voice change?’ but steve didn’t even know it had. he was, he was just talking to someone else quick, being nice like you’re supposed to, attentive to make them feel good. he didn’t know his voice changed that much. 

‘girls would like you more if you talked normal to them. how you do to me.’ 

steve swallowed thickly. he just. he just doesn’t know that thats true. nancy left, he talked to her about lots of things, too many things. she like him better at the start. before some of his black tar innards spilled out. before he freaked. before he was able to paste himself back together and she saw him for what he really is. 

he thinks of his parents. how they don’t know him and still don’t like him. anxiety prickles at his fingertips at the thought of those times they do come home. 

because with them there the routine he’s carved for himself, those quiet moments of darkness that he so craves. they’re gone. now it’s tv static and plates clanging and having to show his face at dinner again. but he’s not ten anymore. now he’s an adult whose still drowning in the tension of the room, never able to say what’s really going on, never allowed to ask how they really feel, never taught how to figure his feeling out. no listening ear for steve as a child, and the ice only grew thicker with time. 

it’s his skin itching at his mother stirring her tea across the house, spoon agains porcelain. it’s the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sound of ice clinking in his fathers scotch glass. it’s triggered memories playing over and over again. it’s being plagued, by ghosts who haunt him, who left but come back every so often, like poltergeists. polietgists with the deed to the house, and ownership over steve, through blood and fear alone. 

‘when they get back you come to mine steve yeah? you come home.’

because now theres not just robin. there’s eddie. 

he sees everything. and more. even when steve’s trying to hide. eddie sees. 

he noticed steve squinting at the hospital and asked the nurse to turn the lights down. he saw how he started zoning out at a diner with the kids, their arguing reaching a pitch, asked steve to keep him company for a smoke break. once they were outside eddie said he just needed a moment, ‘those kids can be animals’. said it and looked a him like he didn’t need an answer, let steve just breathe a focus on the sound of the wind. 

it’s like there’s a million tiny moments, a million tiny cracks in him forming the more he’s around eddie. like his soft underbelly is mewling any time he’s around, wanting attention, wanting to let eddie see. let eddie touch. 

eddie used to look at him sometimes, across the lunch hall. stare at him with an expression steve couldn’t really make sense of. he used to think it was judgment, annoyance. now he wonders if that face was confusion or interest. maybe eddie’s always been trying to figure steve out. 

once it starts. them. eddie’s everywhere. more somehow, maybe, than robin because, you know, they go there. but it’s different, from those time, with those girls. instead now he’s there and his brains off and on in a, like, magical way. a new way that makes him feel whole and, and beautiful. 

this thing they have. it’s fragile. it’s not perfect. he messes up, takes him a moment to grasp how eddie can be so so himself, always, no matter what. especially when it causes him problems. ‘why not just try and fit in?’ but the stone faced reply told steve that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t get it but he needed to respect it. respect eddie and his choices. ‘i’m not like you steve, even if my brain shit was all gone i’d still be poor, i’d still be othered. still be a gay weirdo little freak.’ 

and steve is trying to get it. he’s learning to recognise that it’s sadness and confusion in eddie’s eyes when he visits him at work, knowing steve is having a bad day and watching him pretend. watching that mask form thick and fast, hiding the real him, protecting but also keeping everyone far far away. steve thinks maybe they’re living parallels. finding different ways to survive. neither better, neither worse. both far from perfect. 

then that pinched sadness in eddie’s eyes. watching steve pretend. cover up. that damn breaks eventually. eddie sees all of him and more. those bits he always kept locked inside. between he and himself. it all comes spilling out. 

they were supposed to be going out soon. but eddie wasn’t feeling it anymore ‘let’s just stay here, be cozy a little longer. what do you say, sweetheart?’ it does sound nice. steves so tired. but they decided. they had a plan. 

‘we said we would. and i have to buy that thing eddie. we had a plan. and i have to go to work later, so we have to do it before. like we said and then i have to work eddie.’ and before he knows it there’s tears prickling his eyes and the ceiling fan is so loud and the desk lamp is too bright and he smacks a fist to the top of his head and it hurts a little but he’s so frustrated and so overwhelmed and so confused and embarrassed, suddenly. and he can’t breath. why can’t he breath? they had a plan. 

they were supposed to go see hopper and pick something up and he has to talk to him and ask about the game because he needs hopper to like him because it’s better when el can come when all the kids hangout. it’s important that she’s happy so hopper needs to trust steve so steve was going to talk to him today and pick something up. it was the plan. hopper makes him nervous but that was the plan. and then he had to go to work. but now he can’t breathe and he feels like he needs something to hurt. 

‘but he already trusts you with el stevie. hop trusts you with anything.’ 

‘i can’t know that. not for sure. when i talk to him it needs to be perfect.’ steve paces. a pinch at his arm. a tug at his hair. pivot. pace. repeat. 

‘i heard what he said to you steve, on your birthday, he was calling you son all day. you don’t need to prove anything to him.’ 

‘i do eddie! you don’t understand. people, they lie. adults lie. they don’t say things the way they mean. i can’t fuck up talking to him. not like i always fuck up talking to my parents. i need to do it better. do it differently. because everyone always leaves. and i just don’t want to be alone again.’ and the tears really start to fall and steve can barely breath and he’s so embarrassed. shaking hands try and cover his face but the tears slip through. 

and all he can think about is the plan. going to work. his vest hanging by the door. the way the plastic tapes feel in his hands. the smell of the bleach they mop the back room with. the day stretches before him. so many things in the way. so much anxiety still to come. if he can’t start, it can’t end. he gnaws at his lip. thumps a hand to his chest, trying to breath right, trying to ground. 

‘i have to go to work’ he mutters. like a prayer. speak it in to happening. taking him away from the now. thump thump thump at his chest. ear ringing. 

eddie’s holding his arms out, giving steve the option. he speaks so calmly, so earnest. ‘you can’t go to work steve. not like this baby.’

steve rounds on him. angry. when did everything get so messed up? if he was just left alone. he should’ve stayed on his own. ‘i cant just call in sick eddie! i’m not sick and and i hate the way they’ll sound when i say it over the phone and knowing what they’ll be thinking about me. they’ll know i hate the job and think i’m lazy and realise how stupid and useless i am and fire me. i can’t afford to get fired eddie. i’d rather just go in.’ he know it comes out garbled, his cheeks on fire. 

‘i’m not letting you go in steve. i’ll sort it. i’ll go pick up robin before and she’ll cover for you, she’ll explain. and she would never. ever think that of you.’ eddie’s voice dropped octave. he speaks clearly and plainly and finally there’s a new plan to follow. a new rule for the day. 

and all steve can do is curl up in a ball and sob. curl up in a ball against eddie chest, in his arms, squeezing his t-shirt between his fingers. clenching his muscles tight, his teeth grinding together. grunting out some of the decade old scream, still stuck there but more visible to him now. 

until finally finally, he relaxes. spent and exhausted. too afraid to open his eyes and face the lamplight, face what could be in eddie’s expression. he drifts..

eventually he gets up, blows his nose and splashed water on his face, turns off all the lights and get back under the warm blanket. fills his lungs. sighs. whispers, ‘m’sorry’ 

‘don’t say that. there’s nothing to apologise for’ eddie’s so close, so warm. 

‘no one’s supposed to ever, see that.. it’s okay if you want to leave’ 

‘steve. why the fuck would i leave you right now?’ 

‘who’d wanna date someone who acts like that? it’s. it’s not good eddie. but, but it’s okay. i’m used to being alo-.’ 

‘please stop stevie. your breaking my heart here. i want to stay, i want to be here with you. i really really like you steve.’ and steve’s cheeks feel wet again. he feels flayed open and young, like a little kid who fell off the swings and everything is different suddenly. 

later later when eddie picks robin up from work she stalks in to where steve’s wrapped up on the couch. curls up into his side and exhales. she bites into his bicep. huffing a sad, annoyed little ‘dingus’ before grabbing his hand and fiddling with his fingers. 

steve feels his eyes prickle again. looking up at the ceiling he croaks out a small ‘sorry.’ for the day. for everything. for anything he can be. and everything he can’t. 

robin kneels on the sofa right next to him. growling a little and placing one of her hands at his sternum and the other at the same height on his back. like she’s forcing herself inside him, holding him together. her hands start to rub up and down quickly, frenzied and grounding for both of them. steve let’s his head hang. eyes closing at the sensation. he grunts. robin grunts back. 

eddie joins. sitting at his other side. slipping a hand in steve’s hair, soothing his scalp with long scratching fingers. and steve humms, sighs, keens. eyes closed he drifts but not away from his body, instead into it. with gratitude, and warmth. at the centre of the two best things that ever happened to him. willing to try again. be just, better. never perfect. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

pt 3 snippet

a little happier for u @pearynice <3

ty @spectrum-spectre @vampyreddiemunson @fangirlycupcake @grandwretch for ur tags and additions, it was very inspiring

and tags for lovely @irethsune @willim-billiam-byerson @2jug2head

[dwaekkicidal]

The Project

˚ʚPerv!Emo!Han Jisung x Cutesy!Fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Third part of 'The Incidents' Series; based off of this ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: told from his pov, jisung is a huge perv/creep, panty stealing, panty sniffing, masturbation (m), ji jerking off with reader's panties <3, other idols mentioned but not involved: Chan (skz)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: Italics are Han's thoughts! also the picture is just a reference for the outfit i had in mind :)

The Incidents Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han finds himself reading multiple messages from her later that night. They started off with apologies, but once he convinced her that it was fine, they turned into a conversation about the project. They had agreed on meeting at her apartment the next day at 1 pm; Han offered to bring lunch for them and Y/N offered to order dinner for them, if it came down to them working that late.

He reads over the messages again and again, suddenly realizing how much of a movie his life has become with her. The Meeting and the unanticipated closeness combined with the almost protective nature she gives off when her friends are around and make nasty faces at him. The devil on his shoulder just laughs, knowing exactly what he's thinking. It tells him that it’s how she always is with everybody. And he knows it’s right, but sometimes he can’t help but feel different.

Before he can dive any deeper, the elevator dings and opens its doors for him. His hold on the food bags tightens as he makes his way down the hallway, whistling a melody to himself as he counts his way to her apartment number.

He rings the bell, standing there patiently until she opens it. She’s wearing a skin-tight romper and her legs are bare for once, minus the leg warmers that cover her shins. He visibly gulps when his eyes pass by her crotch, looking at the way it outlines her body there perfectly. He smiles shyly as he walks past her, kicking off his shoes at the front door and waiting for her to close the door behind him. His eyes take in every detail of her apartment as she leads him through the hallways. Not nearly as pink as I thought it would be.. They pass her roommate’s room, listening embarrassingly to the joking “be safe, wear a condom” talk they got that ended with him red in the face.

The door to her bedroom opens and she hurries him in, closing it behind him. Ah. There it is. Nevermind. His eyes dart from the white furniture to her cutely decorated mirror and pink vanity, then to her bed. Her comforter is white, ruffled, and puffy with little pink flowers decorating it. And he does not miss the stuffies that sit upright on display along her pillows. He watches her laugh nervously and step between him and the bed, trying to hide the onslaught of plushies behind her frame as she bites her lip. I’ve never seen her so shy before.. She looks so innocent now that she’s not dressed all whoreishly.

She points towards an area on the floor: a little spot is set up and padded by blankets and pillows. He laughs to himself, She even has pink laptop stands. She takes a seat and pats the spot next to her, waiting patiently as he lays out the food across the floor and finally sits.

For the majority of the time there, Han behaved himself! He only occasionally found his mind wandering elsewhere, but would always recover from it before it became too much of a problem. Or caused a visible problem. In the span of 3 hours, they managed to finish all of the research and got the first few slides finished. They were going to keep going and see how far they would get without a break but changed their minds when Han received a text message and Y/N was called out to the kitchen. He watched her waddle out to the hallway as he responded to the message; something about Chan needing a favor from him ASAP.

A few minutes pass and Han finishes up his conversation with Chan, but the girl is nowhere to be found. He faintly hears talking from outside the room and figures they’re still busy so he takes the time to get a more detailed look around her room. He gets through most of the room with innocent glances until he sees her dresser. He freezes and just stares, thinking back to what he got off to the night prior. Her panties.

Han looks nervously at her cracked door, watching for a moment to see if she or anybody would walk by. After what felt like hours of internal debate, he cautiously walks up to the dresser. He traces the pink knob with his fingertips, losing himself in thought as he slowly wraps his hand around it. Am I really… She’s right there.. He glances over again. He can see her arms resting on the kitchen island from the crack in the door.

He watches her like a hawk as his hands slide around the rest of the knob, pulling it towards him slowly. He gets it halfway open before deciding that it was far enough, and any farther would get him in some real trouble. He peels his eyes away to look down, taking in the different colors and fabrics of underwear that she has. He even notices that some pairs have a matching bra that’s folded and stored on the leftmost side of the drawer. He lets a finger run across a few of the more intriguing pairs before an imaginary light bulb appears over his head.

He slowly turns towards her closet. The door was slightly ajar and he could see a peak of her different colored clothes that hung inside. But then he dips lower. The edge of her hamper also peeks out. And it was full. He swears he can faintly see a baby-pink piece of cloth at the very top. The pair she had on yesterday…? The sound of distant laughter has his eyes snapping back to the cracked door. He assumes the girls are too far away to walk in on him without him hearing. Once they begin to chat again he lets his eyes flicker between the opened drawer and the cracked closet door. She has so many pairs… she won’t notice 1 missing… right?

He bites his lip and softly closes the drawer, doing everything in his power to not make any noise as he makes his way to the closet. It creaks slightly as he opens it further and he cringes, snapping his head to the door as his heart pounds in his ears. They’re still talking and he’s now out of line of sight from the crack in that door, so it would have to be fully opened in order to see him. He gulps and turns back to the onslaught of clothes, looking through some of them curiously before returning to his original plan.

Holy shit. The pink set of underwear he saw yesterday is lying at the very top of the pile, bra and panties almost on display for him. He can even see the dress she had on just below it. Shaky hands reach out and grab the fabric of the panties. He runs his fingers along it to familiarize himself with the texture but feels his eyes roll into the back of his head when he notices a slightly darker spot on them. Right where her pussy would have rested against the fabric.

“Fuck..” he whispers under his breath, running his finger along the spot and shivering when he realizes that it’s still slightly damp. Shit… you think she got wet after touching my dick? His dick twitches in his pants and he looks to the door once more, making sure he still hears voices before he continues. He looks down at the fabric and roughly runs his thumb along the spot, gathering as much of the wetness as he can before bringing it up to his nose. He closes his eyes and inhales strongly, moaning pathetically at the smell.

He would have gone as far as to push his thumb past his lips to have a taste, but he suddenly hears the sounds of jingling keys fading and footsteps coming towards the bedroom. His eyes snap open and he returns the door to its earlier position, backing away and pocketing the dirty panties as he returns to his spot on the floor.

Y/N walks in with a smile, taking her seat next to him. “Sorry about that. They’re going to the mall and wanted to talk about me joining them later.” Her eyes jump to the drop of sweat falling down his face and he can see her bite back a smile. “That’s fine… I uhh... was going to ask if we could call it here anyways. One of my friends needs a favor from me.”

“Oh, that works!. We got a lot done today, same time tomorrow?” He nods and quietly packs his things. She leads him back to the front door and he hurriedly exchanges goodbyes.

His mind races the entire way home. No way. He walks into his apartment, ears ringing and heart beating out of his chest. Holy shit.. His dick twitches in his pants at the feeling of the bunched-up fabric in his hoodie pocket. No fucking way I got away with that. He stands there for a while, catching his breath and calming himself down. He finally moves after a few minutes only to be startled by a text message. His heart drops at the contact name.

He rolls his eyes and lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, rushing to his room as he reads the last message. He’s thankful for his busy roommates when walks through the quiet halls of their shared apartment. He locks his door, just in case, and makes his way to his bed, discarding everything but his boxers on the way there. His bag and clothes are settled into a messy pile by the time he makes it to his sheets. The stolen pair of panties lay beside him on the bed, almost tauntingly, and he eyes them warily as he slowly palms himself through his boxers. Once he’s sure she won’t magically pop out of thin air and scold him, he reaches for them.

His free hand grabs them and rubs the material again, this time intensely rubbing the dark spot. He bites his lips and pulls his boxers off, letting them pool on the floor as he spreads his legs open. The hand that holds the underwear shakes as it brings them up to his face. He inhales quickly and groans before letting his tongue dart out bravely along the fabric. The hand wrapped around his dick squeezes harder as he throws his head back. This is so gross, but oh my god.. She smells and tastes so fucking good.

His head returns upright and he brings the panties to his dick, wrapping the fabric around it. The hand returns to the bed to ground him as he tests the waters, experimentally squeezing the fabric against him and moving it up and down. I've gone this far.. might as well go all the way. His hand speeds up and he moans at the feeling of the soft sheer that’s occasionally interrupted by rough floral patterns.

He doesn’t bother holding back moans of her name. Of your name. He knows he’s home alone and the apartment walls are thick enough anyway, so he goes to town. He tries his best to enjoy the moment and not rush it, but he loses patience quickly and speeds up even more, quickly chasing his orgasm. His hips buck into his hand as he moans and pleads into the air and cums. He watches the pink fabric as he rides out the high; his cum paints the dark spot white and even seeps through some of the mesh areas.

Once he calms down he realizes how hard he still is and whimpers, allowing his hand to slowly move against him again. His hand adjusts the position of her panties, wrapping it completely around his length and freeing his tip to the cold hair. The even darker, now messy spot rubs against his sensitive skin, pulling even more desperate moans from his lips as he overstimulates himself.

He leaves the fabric like this for the rest of the time, opting to paint it like a canvas. He uses the lack of fabric on his tip to his advantage, rubbing his pointer finger harshly over his slit with each thrust.

Two more orgasms are pulled from him like this before he taps out, chest heaving and sweaty skin glued to his sheets. By the time he’s finished showering and cleaning up his mess, he’s face to face with the underwear again. I don’t think I can return these now, so I might as well keep them. He laughs nervously at the thought of keeping it as a souvenir and places them gently on his pile of dirty clothes.

As he lays in bed, sleep pulling at every nerve in his body, he hears another ding from his phone.

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