#it’s snowing in two days if he’s still lingering tomorrow I’ll take him to the shelter

[bunnykitty13]

random cats need to stop crossing my path the sweetest grey and white stray boy is sleeping on my back porch cuz I fed him some wet food I feel so BAD i just can’t let him in

[thefangirlfever]

"Let me keep you warm"(a Miguel O'hara NSFW story, 18+)

Summary: What would happen if the two of you spend the night in a cabin during a snow storm?

Tags: NSFW, MDNI, F/M, dad bod Miguel, oral sex (F. receiving), married couple, breast play (slightly), masturbation, face sitting, curvy y/n

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The two of you were cuddling in front of the fireplace while the storm kept raging outside. You’ve been taken by surprise by the weather and since the beginning of the storm, the power has run out in the cabin. There were some candles in the cellar that you used to light up the room and you could also rely on the fireplace’s light and warmth.

Even so, your body was slightly shivering under the covers. Miguel was hugging you from behind, his strong arms circling your much smaller silhouette, holding you close enough to keep you warm and still being gentle with you as if you were made of glass. He knew that the storm was worrying you and he was trying his best to reassure you. One of his hands kept stroking your hair while whispering sweet nothings, trying to keep your attention away from what was going on inside. Still, your eyes would often linger on the window. There was something mesmerizing in this eerie landscape, as white and pure as a pearl. You were both fascinated and frightened by this sight. Feeling your body shivering, Miguel’s arms held you tighter and he planted a quick kiss on the top of your head. His eyes also looked at the window but he didn’t seem as impressed as you. He just sighed.

“I’ll have to shovel all the snow tomorrow I guess…”

You scoffed at his so-practical mind, which made him smile softly. As long as you were not scared, he didn’t mind shoveling as much snow as possible the next day. His mouth didn’t leave your head and instead he gave one quick kiss to your ear and then to your nape, making a few hair standing up.

“Miguel...do you think it’s the right moment for that?”

Even if you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was smiling. His lips kept giving some quick pecks to your skin, carefully moving your hair to the side.

“Of course. It’s just the two of us, trapped in the middle of the woods… It’s like we’re all alone in the world.”

“I didn’t know that you were such a romantic.”, you teased him. Even if you rolled your eyes at his words, you were clearly amused. When his hands slipped under the blanket and began to run up and down your back, you didn’t move away. His hands were surprisingly warm, while you’ve been feeling like an ice cube all the time you spend in this place. Even if you already knew it, it still surprised you every time, just how warm his body constantly was. You were not shy to say the word. Miguel just felt comfortable and he knew it, whether it was good or bad for you was still up to decide. It could be quite delightful to come back home after a long day of work and just lay your head on his tummy, let him cradle you in his arms and make the little spoon out of you. But sometimes he knew you were unable to resist him in these conditions and he didn’t shy away from using these advantages.

“Romantic? If you could read my thoughts right now, I don’t think you would call me this way.”, he teased you back while his fingertips ran over your spine. His hand tugged at the hem of your shirt and you felt his fingertips on the small of your back. Your ears perked up at his words and took a pink hue, which you couldn’t hide from him in this position. Miguel was ruthless in these moments; he just knew it wouldn’t take a lot of time for you to indulge in this moment.

“Maybe this storm is even a good thing? It’s been such a long time since I had you all for myself…”

You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. It’s been so long since the two of you have had a moment for yourselves and these holidays were supposed to be the occasion to catch up on this time. Yes, life has kept you busy these last months, work has been hectic and you were often too tired to do anything. Miguel never pressured you into doing anything against your well-being or that could deprive you of some well-deserve rest. But that didn’t mean you didn’t want something to happen. In fact, you had some ideas on how to spend these holidays… Everything was supposed to be perfect, romantic in every way… and this stupid storm ruined everything. This simple thought frustrated you even more. Feeling your body tense, Miguel kept massaging your back, rubbing his hands over you in slow, circular motions. He knew it was frustrating for you since you had planned everything so well, and he appreciated your efforts. But he didn’t need all that and he was determined to prove it to you.

Miguel’s lips kept kissing your neck, even gently nibbling on it. You were slowly feeling your body getting warmer, especially one area.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it…”

Well, you did think about it. Honestly, at some point you were only thinking about this, especially after weeks of inactivity.

“Maybe, I did…”, you answered quietly. Miguel smiled against your skin as he pulled you closer to him. The blanket fell from your shoulders and his hands snaked up higher on your back. Your shirt slowly lifted up, revealing more of your skin and Miguel smirked, noticing that you didn’t have a bra on.

“You’re really making this almost too easy for me.” His fingertips brushed against your spine, making you shiver. He took his time admiring your body squirm under his touch, the way the freckles and moles on your back seemed to dance against your skin, looking like a constellation. Under your skin, your ribs were heaving up and down at a slow pace, just like your breathing had slowed down. Miguel couldn’t fight back the urge to wrap his hands around them, feeling how thin your skin was, how you were shaking so slightly… His hands kept moving higher, soon resting under your chest, feeling your heartbeat under his fingers. After weeks spend without touching you, or at least not how he was dreaming of, he felt like he could get drunk from your skin.

“I need to see you. Please…”, he whispered in the crook of your neck.

In the silence of the room, only the noise of the fire cracking could be heard. You slowly lifted your arms, not making any other move, letting him take control of the situation. Despite his craving for your body, he managed to slowly take your shirt off. He tossed the fabric on the side without a lot of care, his eyes too focused on you. The fire was creating shadows on your body, highlighting every curve there was to see. You were sweating a little and he could feel it, smell it, just like he could feel the warmth of your body. None of that bothered him, quite the opposite. It was the proof that you were there, real and more beautiful than ever. Wherever his fingers were caressing you, its shadow was clearly visible on your skin and you couldn’t help but follow him with your eyes.

“I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missed you…” He didn’t need to tell you. His hands were speaking for him as he gently cupped your breasts, feeling their weight and the texture of your skin. He took his time feeling them as if it was his first time discovering them. In fact he knew them by heart at this point, just like the rest of your body. But that didn’t stop him from following the blue veins under your skin with his fingertips. Finally his calloused fingertips reached the center of your breasts and brushed against your nipples. You felt your body stiffen at his touch. You’ve never felt this sensitive in such a long time. It felt like waking up from a very long nap.

“I’ve missed that too…”, you answered quietly. Miguel nibbled your ear, watching with a growing excitement your body responding to his teasing.

“How bad did you miss it?”

Bad. You missed it so bad and it’s easy to read this hunger in your eyes. You turn your head and watch Miguel’s expression. He looks as hungry as you, if not more. Both your faces are close enough for you to kiss but he refuses you his lips and instead keeps nibbling on your earlobe, teasing you between each bite:

“Show me. Show me how you’ve missed it. I want to see what you were doing when I couldn’t take care of you.”

You were more than happy to know that you could ease the aching burn in your lower body. Since Miguel has started touching you, you felt yourself getting wet. You were so responsive, so needy that you obediently lowered you pajama pants, exposing a wet patch in the middle of your underwear. Miguel groaned at the sight before kissing your skin end encouraging you to keep going. With your eyes closed, you slide your finger up and down, feeling your swollen lips and the wetness spreading down there. You were taking your time and Miguel didn’t rush you, enjoying the show you were giving him. When you finally slipped one finger inside your underwear, he finally said something:

“Take it off please… I want to see it.” One of his hands held your left thigh and moved it to the side, spreading your legs further as you kept undressing. You may have been naked in this moment, but you’ve never felt hotter. Your sweat kept dribbling in small droplets over the curves of your body, down to the patch of brown pubic hair between your thighs. Your arousal was glistening on the brown little bush and when you parted your lips, a sharp contrast appeared between your slick, pink and puffy lips and the tuft of hair.

“So pretty…”, Miguel whispered in awe. His hands were dying to touch you but the sight of your fingers moving between your little forest, diving into this little river made his breath heavier.

At first, you were hesitant, almost shy but the more you were remembering these long nights of solitude and this frustration, the deeper you delved into your throbbing cunt. You were knuckles deep inside your hole, your thumb brushing against your clit, and you were soon panting. No matter how hard you tried, how fast you were fingering yourself, you would never achieve the same sensation as when he was inside you. And he knew it. He knew what you were craving, what you wanted and he would make you say it, ask for it.

You were so close and yet you didn’t reach your peak. You could almost feel your orgasm slipping between your fingers. The more you chase it, the further it ran away, leaving you a mess, your fingers covered in your juice and still this craving sensation inside of you, like an itch that needed to be scratched but you couldn’t reach it. Miguel sensed your desperation; he saw your face crunched up in a grimace of agony, your lips slightly parted in an annoyed grunt. He kissed your neck one last time and whispered:

“Let me take care of that.”

He was more than eager to help you. These weeks had also left him needy and frustrated. No matter how much he tried to relieve himself of that pressure, this was never enough. What he needed was not to just empty himself, to give into this release, but you. He wanted you. With one gentle move of his hands, he helped you lie down on the fuzzy carpet. You were facing him and the fire kept projecting his soft shadows on your body. He didn’t even know where to begin with you. Everything he saw, every single part of you seemed to call him, to ask for his attention. He quickly removed his flannel shirt and a soft sound escape your lips. You stretched your arms, as if you were asking for him to embrace you, to let you lie down his powerful chest. His eyes kept roaming your body and he undid his pants with such an urgency that his fingers were almost shaking and he had to try twice to unbuckle them. Once his body was finally free of his clothes, he finally leaned over you. You’ve missed the way his body was crushing you, engulfing you, wrapping around perfectly as if he tried to cut you from the rest of the world. You were calling his name, pleading for him to suffocate you even.

“I’m here mi Vida. I’m coming...I’m coming…” His lips met yours in a heated kiss while you kept on stroking his hair. Once he had broken the kiss, Miguel gave your lower lip one playful bite and he began to trace his way down your body. His lips didn’t neglect any part of you and all this time, he never stopped looking at you. When his lips reached your navel, he could smell your arousal oozing from between your legs. It was intoxicating, bittersweet and just like some rich honey. He couldn’t stop himself from taking a bite…

Miguel’s hands slipped under your butt and he grabbed it, lifting you slightly from the ground until your lips were connected. He took his time kissing your womanhood, his lips grazing your mound, your inner thighs… His thick tongue made its way between your folds, exploring every inch of you, tasting you like you were some ripe and juicy fruit. He was eating you like a starved man with no consideration from the mess he was doing on himself as your cyprine leaked down his chin and made his lips glisten. As if this wasn’t already too much for you, he never stopped looking at you all this time. His face buried between your thighs with his eyes only poking out, looking at you in awe. The sounds he was making while eating you out only added to your pleasure and you squeezed your thighs around his face. Only muffled sounds reached your ears as he kept moving his tongue, deeper and deeper. Frustrated to not reach your spot, he lifted your hips higher, your legs hanging around his neck as he kept lapping at your juice like an animal. You were moving your hips in rhythm with his lips and the more you kept moving, the more you felt hot, almost burning. But it was worth it. Still, Miguel couldn’t stand the sight of you working so hard when he just wanted to pleasure you like you deserved it after all this time.

“This won’t do it. I want to feel you deeper…” He gave your lips one teasing lick before dragging you closer to him. Sometimes you forgot how strong he was, but not in these moments. Without any struggle, he lifted you and pressed your body against his.

“Miguel, what are you doing?” You were still a little dizzy from your last game and you didn’t understand why he made you move, especially since you were quite enjoying what the two of you were doing.

“I think there’s something we could try… and that would be more enjoyable for you.”

Nothing good ever comes out from his wicked smile, and that’s why you liked seeing it on his face so much.

“Is it really going to be enjoyable for me or just for you?”, you asked with a teasing smile. Miguel chuckled at your insinuation and kissed your neck once again, while holding the other side of your face with his hand. You could feel the sweat dripping down your back, strands of hair clinging to your forehead and the skin of your neck turning moist from your sweat. This didn’t stop Miguel to kiss you hungrily. His own body seemed to glisten in this light, revealing golden undertones to his tan skin. Your skins rubbed against one another, your scents mixing into one heady aroma that you would take to you sheets for the rest of the night.

Miguel’s teeth dragged along your skin, tasting your essence until he reached your pulse. Purple and red marks had bloomed on your neck from his caress and he delighted himself, knowing that the next day you would wear the proof of his love. His lips kissed the part of your neck where he could feel your pulse. His lips trapped your heart and he whispered:

“I think it could be very enjoyable for the two of us.”

You smiled against his temple and replies: “What do you have in mind?”

“I want you to sit on my face. I need to feel you deeper.”

This seemed really tempting but you’ve never tried this before. In fact, you were a little afraid that your weight could be a problem. You looked at your body and Miguel’s eyes followed yours. With a gentle motion of his hand, he tilted your head up. His eyes looked for yours, trying to reassure you. He patiently listened to your explanations, to yours fears and as much as he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he also craved this contact. You thought you would be too heavy for him? That you would crush him? Hell, he’d die a happy man if he met his death between your legs.

And that’s how you ended up sitting on his face. You were very careful to not crush him but that wasn’t enough for Miguel. He grabbed your hips and made you sit on him, really sit on him. Just when you were wondering if it wasn’t too much, you heard a muffled moan coming from between your legs. As much as you were embarrassed, you had to recognize that it was indeed as enjoyable as Miguel said it would be. His hungry lips were sucking on your cunt, drinking down from your hole as if he had stayed thirsty for too long. Your mound was rubbing perfectly with his strong nose every time your grind your hips, something you quickly took the rhythm for. Your hands grabbed his hair in a tight fist as you rode the wave, feeling yourself getting higher with each stroke of his tongue. Your moans joined in unison and Miguel’s tongue was danging against your clit, making the little nub stiffen more and more...until you couldn’t take it anymore. You erupted on his face and if you weren’t already dizzy with all this heat, you would have swear you heard him laughing.

On his side, it seemed that he had enjoyed this as much as you. It was impossible to not spot his hard-on as you slowly left his face. Miguel just gave you one look and you knew that this night was far from over.

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I hope you enjoyed this new episode of "Dad bod Miguel O'hara does naughty things to you"™ I have other ideas for him.

Edit: thanks for the 200 likes ~~

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 18

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger"

Warnings: hey did u know this slow burn has some smut in it ;)

A/N: dividers by me, many many thanks to @desertbcrnnobody for the beta assist and PetrichorBather for help on the line about shipwrecks <3 y'all r priceless and ily. also, HAPPY 100K BROKEN ON COMMON GROUNDS I DIDN'T THINK WE'D GET THIS FAR

series masterlist

chapter 18: yet hanging in the stars

Qimir drove them east out of the city. Osha never needed to leave the city limits, what with the infrastructure supporting millions of lives that never needed to leave. In fact, Osha never left the city except for the tournaments—she had not attended the funerals following their orphaning, and Mae had stayed with her instead of attending herself.

They didn’t talk about it. At least, Osha didn’t talk about it. She didn’t talk about the frigid, impersonal visits to the frigid, impersonal graveyard where their mothers and two dozen other women were buried alongside them. She didn’t talk about how there was a strange disconnect between her mind knowing they were dead, and not knowing they were laid to rest. Anybody could be lying in a grave if there’s no proof of it.

Mae didn’t talk about the screaming nightmares she suffered for years. Sol certainly didn’t talk about it with them.

In that apartment, silence always spoke louder than anyone who dared break it.

They passed the graveyard as they headed east, and Osha said nothing.

They passed the exit that once stood for almost home, the one that led to a dirt road that would take them to the charred, decrepit husk of what was once a flourishing, colorful homestead.

She still said nothing.

Yet—

The scent-memory of smoke and gasoline lingered.

If her mood was markedly subdued for that stretch of highway, Qimir didn’t comment on it. He didn’t ask her how dinner with Sol and Mae went, but she told him it went fine anyway. Osha didn’t ask him how the drive back from Khofar went, but he told her it went fine as well. According to him, she knew him better than anybody else knew him, but in the moments of silence like this where they were both lost in thought, she could still call him a stranger.

I’m an open book. For you.

It made her questions all the more frustrating. There was some kind of block in her head, some barrier preventing her from just asking about all the confusing things that had been kicking around in her head since—well, since meeting him. Why were you even renting a place out in the middle of nowhere? The fuck is up with Idise? What are you lying to me about? What aren’t you telling me?

Weakly, she supposed whatever answers those questions would yield could only spell disaster for the uneasy relief between them. Why are you complaining? He’s back, isn’t he? Why risk running him off again with the reminders of whatever pushed him away in the first place? 

More and more questions, less and less answers.

…spoke a lot of words; I don’t know if I spoke the truth—got so much to lose, got so much to prove… God, don’t let me lose my mind…

“It’s not far,” he said, breaking the quietude that settled like snow even on the soft music from his iPod. “Have you never been out here?”

A loaded question. Osha clicked on the metaphorical safety for her answer. “Not this far, no.”

“The competitions were always more up north, huh?” he said, drifting back to shared (if uncomfortable) territory—the competition circuit.

“Yeah. The comp team is caravaning to Theed tomorrow, so I’ll have four whole days to myself. Kana offered me so many shifts,” she chuckled.

“Four whole days, huh?” he said, eyes flicking briefly to her though his focus remained on the road. “And what are you going to do with all that time to yourself, birthday girl?”

“I was hoping to make it your problem.”

A slow smile crept up his lips as he smirked out through the windscreen. “That so?”

“Is so.” Maybe four whole days will get me to just fucking ask one single question—

“Maybe we should have a sleepover one of those days. While the cats are away, so to speak.”

Her heart leapt in her throat. “A sleepover?”

Instead of clarifying, laughing it off, or any number of deflections, he took her hand, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. “A sleepover.”

Infuriating man.

She turned the tables on him, bringing his hand to her lips so she could press a kiss to his knuckles. Against the smooth skin there, she murmured, “I can think of a lot of things to do at a sleepover, stranger.”

His eyes burned as they caught her gaze now, and slowly, almost daring—he brought his hand down to rest on Osha’s thigh. It was warm, and huge, and she knew the strength of it from many hours spent in the gym together. He brought her hydroplaning mind back to earth as he squeezed her leg once.

“So can I.”

It felt like all the air in the car had been sucked out with those three little words. She was vaguely aware of her gaping expression, the speechless stupor he’d sent her into with nothing but his hand.

“Is this alright?” he asked, thumb twitching against the outer seam of her jeans.

She nodded dumbly.

“Use your words, Osha,” he teased, voice dropping to depths only known to shipwrecks. He knew what he was doing to her, and she loved it—as much as it flustered her.

She cleared her throat. “It’s alright.”

For the rest of the drive, Osha was aware of little else but his hand—the minute fidgeting, his thumbnail scraping idly over every thick stitch through denim, the gentle flex and tap of his fingers moving in time with whatever song was playing. What little conversation they’d been having had ground to a full fucking stop, now that his hand seemed intent on melting her every thought from the inside out.

If he hadn’t needed to take his hand off of her to do so, she wouldn’t have caught the fact he was exiting off the highway. They went back and forth down a winding, tree-lined road that he drove with the utter confidence of a man who knew where the fuck he was going, despite not using a map or GPS or anything. It made the random-ass stop on a deserted road confusing, however.

“Where are—whoa!” she exclaimed, bracing herself with the handle as he took a right—

Straight into a field.

Qimir only laughed, driving further and further into the field. “Almost the-ere,” he said, sing-song.

“This is absolutely ‘taking the victim to a secondary location’ behavior!” she protested, but laughter bubbled up at just how silly it felt to dip and bump up and down in his little shitbox car. She would never have been able to drive as confidently as he did—not to mention, her cute little two-door sedan would never have made it past the shoulder.

Qimir stopped just as abruptly as he’d plunged them off the road. He hummed, pleased with himself. “We’re here.”

“Where the hell is here?”

He didn’t answer, killing the engine and getting out to get something from the trunk. Osha attempted to put herself to rights, using the mirror on his visor to check her makeup. She regretted the lengths to which she attempted her makeup: if they were going to be in the dark, he couldn’t appreciate it.

You can dress up for yourself, you know.

Medora’s words brought a smile to her face, and she snapped the visor closed before she could convince herself back into regret. 

Her door opened. “C’mon,” Qimir said. The light from the car’s interior only shone onto the lower part of his face, leaving his eyes in shadow. He had a few blankets in his arms and a little box she couldn’t readily recognize. Qimir and his weird little machines. She joined him in the cold and dark, offering her hand to share some of the burden. Qimir instead shifted all of his load to one arm and took her hand.

Well then.

They didn’t walk too far from the car. The field he’d driven them into was full of dead grass, rocks, and loose dirt, which made her wonder—“Are there snakes out here?” Osha was suddenly paranoid about the possibility and strained to listen for rattles or hissing. She focused on her footwork, not wanting to lose her new, precious ankle strength to a stray snakehole.

“It’s past deadwinter, but not so far past that the snakes want to hang out.”

“Deadwinter?”

“Have you never heard someone call it that?”

“I’ve heard the dead of winter, but never deadwinter.”

“They mean the same thing: high summer, the height of summer, the middle of summer, midsummer. There are many names to describe the same thing. Haven’t you read any Shakespeare?”

“Only when forced, and like almost ten years ago.”

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose / by any other name would still smell as sweet.”

“You’re reading me poetry on my birthday?” Osha said, a little flustered by the subtle flex.

Qimir turned to her with a smile she could barely make out. She could only really see the glint of his teeth. “Yes, I am. Poetry from a tragedy, but poetry nonetheless. And in quite the romantic setting, if I say so myself.”

“A frozen field of dead grass and sleeping snakes is romantic to you?”

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her, his lips finding hers like iron found a lodestone. Osha briefly forgot about the cold and the snakes and the field. When he’d kissed his fill of her, he tilted her head back with a finger beneath her chin.

The stars stared back at her, beckoning with twinkling lights—so far away, yet within the reach of her gaze. Osha’s jaw dropped open at their brilliance. No wonder he drove them out so far; he wanted to escape the light pollution.

Where would you go?

If I left the city?

Hm.

I don’t know. Somewhere I could see the stars, maybe?

Even the moon was brighter than she’d seen in ages. In the city, she could occasionally see the moon through the smoggy sky—and when she was lucky, she saw a few bright stars. It wasn’t worth looking up when the skies were so disappointing—compared to her childhood memories, at least.

Her mother had taught her the names of the constellations: Orion, Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, Cygnus, Taurus, Gemini—that was the one she pointed out first to Qimir. She couldn’t remember many others (and perhaps it wasn’t the right time of year for that anyway) but she would always remember the lesson where she was shown Gemini. One pale, slender hand, pointing into the cosmos, and a lilting, accented voice, saying—

The Twins, like you. The Hunter, Orion, stands guard while they sleep, or perhaps he is following them. What do you think, my love?

“There’s Gemini,” she said, breaking the silence at long last. “Castor and Pollux. The Twins.”

“Which is which?” Qimir asked softly.

“I thought you could tell twins apart,” she smirked, shaking off some of her bewildered awe to tease him.

Qimir pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Only some,” he murmured. “Happy birthday, Osha.”

He’d given her the stars.

Her heart did flips in her chest the entire time they set up, their progress interrupted by the ensorcelling awe of looking up every few seconds—as if she had to constantly remind herself the stars hadn’t moved. The small device he brought with them revealed itself to be a portable space heater, which he set on the tarp and not among the dry, dead grass.

They rolled down onto the pallet together and Osha squeaked when he pulled her whole body against his, deftly maneuvering her how he wished. The ease with which he moved her made her go a little lightheaded with want. Fuck, he can manhandle me anytime he wants. She rested her head against his chest, and he squeezed his hand against her ribs. “One more thing.” He tugged a blanket over them, enclosing them in a cozy, dark warmth that fought against the chill of the elements around them.

“There. Comfy?” he checked.

“Very,” she said, melting into his side. She could hear the steady beat of his heart, and she worried it would carry her to sleep if she wasn’t paying attention.

Nobody had done such a thing for her before. Her birthdays in childhood were full of warmth, bonfires and sweets. But those were celebrations of more than just herself, or even her and her sister. This was a gift solely for her to enjoy, all because he thought she would like it. She didn’t know how much she would like such a gift until she found herself rambling about the stars above, memories of those lessons with her moth unraveling like thread around a spool. What’s more, Qimir listened to her. She was slightly amazed that she remembered as much as she did. But she quietly named individual stars, planets, and constellations until her voice tired out.

“Is your heater gas-powered?” she asked, sniffing a little. “It smells like gasoline.”

He sighed, and it sounded more like he was disappointed—in himself. “No, it’s the blankets. My gas tank has issues, and I kept the blankets in the trunk a little too long; I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said sweetly, trying her best to ignore the scent on the blankets while she continued to speak. “The moon looks so beautiful, doesn’t it?” she asked.

She didn’t know why his heart started racing, but she could practically feel it tapping her cheek. She shifted and turned her head to look down at him.

He looked a bit dumbstruck, though he was just staring up at the stars. He turned his head to look at her, mouth somewhat agape. A shaky breath sawed out of him, nearly a wheezed laugh of disbelief. How strange.

“What?” she laughed.

“I… yes. The moon does look beautiful,” he agreed.

He wasn’t even looking at the moon.

Qimir and his… well. His whole deal.

She told him about her childhood. Her mama taught her to read, write, and do math, but her mother taught her to read things unseen by the eyes: stars, cards, palms, and the like.

Osha told her of the nights they would sit on the roof, naming constellations until the sun chased them all to bed. Osha remembered the way her mother used to look at the stars. It was the same way she looked at her and Mae when she thought they couldn’t see: glowing amber eyes full of all the love and joy she did not often show to them.

“…The compound always had someone casting a spell, performing a ritual, or crafting charms. Unplan kind of reminds me of that time. I haven’t followed the moon phases in almost 20 years, but I love getting to do it again. It was such a beautiful place to grow up. Women weaving at looms, countless voices harmonizing in songs, laughing with one another. I didn’t know any of that was weird or other back then. I didn’t know it was strange until Sol—” A sudden wave of sadness crashed over her, and the happy memory she’d been holding onto began to slip from her grasp. “I just thought—yeah, this is normal. Home was always more like… a coven, than a—”

Well. The newspapers had called it a cult.

All at once, the atmosphere changed. She could feel the cold again, and the sticky-uncomfortable sweat that had crept beneath her socks and her arms. The invading silence threatened to stretch on forever, but—

“They were your family,” Qimir said, offering an escape from her sudden despair.

But Osha couldn’t grasp that lifeline again. She tried to hide the single tear that slipped from her eye, but Qimir was too close not to catch it. “Are you alright?” he murmured.

She nodded, sniffling a little. “I think Mae had a point, seeing their graves earlier this week.” She swallowed down the growing thickness in her throat. “We lost them when we were 10. The summer after we turned 20, I think I could feel that I’d lived more of my life without them than with them. But we didn’t… we don’t talk about them. That’s why it was so shocking to me that she went at all. It’s just not something we do—we’ve never talked about what happened, not really.”

He hummed softly, a noise of understanding. “You can talk to me anytime you want, you know,” he said.

She snuggled in closer. “I know,” she said.

More silence passed, and the pressure in Osha’s heart built and built. The stars now looked a little dimmer overhead. If she let herself think how she used to, she could imagine they were giving them privacy.

The stars look back upon you as well, her mother had told her. The lucky stars only shine on the ones who see their light. These are the eyes of the ones we grieve. When I die, I shall be among them, looking down and watching over you and your sister. So look up, Osha. Look up.

Her heart ached with the effort of holding back her pain. A part of her still felt ashamed to grieve her mothers, to miss them at all. She’d gained a father from the deaths of her mothers, and Sol tried his best to fill in the gaps in her jagged, broken heart. Mae always seemed fine, connecting to Sol much easier than she had. It felt like, for that week she was in the hospital, Mae had completely rebounded from the life they lost—and from all the lives lost.

Sol had never adequately filled the hole in her heart where her mothers had been ripped away. She no longer had that warmth and togetherness she remembered from her birthdays in the beautiful, resplendent Before. All she’d been offered after was cold money and colder crystal—just the memory of what used to be.

Qimir held her while she cried into his shoulder, arms coming up to hide her from the universe where nobody could see her, not even the stars—hidden from her mothers, eternally waiting for her to look up. She sobbed against him, setting free out a flood of long-imprisoned emotions until her voice sounded as raw as she felt.

He did not shy away from her feelings. He did not flinch from her tears as Vernestra had. He did not run from her grief as Sol did. He did not find her emotions daunting or intimidating, as Mae did. But their fear did not mean she needed to change for their comfort. Osha felt her emotions so deeply. They were like a trench dug in her heart, their depths so dark and overwhelming that she’d only ever felt loneliness at the bottom of it all.

I promised myself I would never love someone who wasn’t willing to go as deep as I can.

A peek at Qimir showed a sight she never thought she’d see: tears on his face, illuminated by starlight above. His face was pained, but not from anything physical—it wasn’t the mask she remembered from training. This was an emotional pain, one she remembered from that first day in his apartment when he told her about his childhood. She remembered seeing him like this when dancing, asking him a question to which she knew the answer in her heart. His physical agony protected the broken heart it stemmed from, because this was a pain he couldn’t massage or numb away.

Because she knew that pain, she pressed their faces together, not in a kiss but in comfort, giving and taking. Their faces were wet and cold despite the warmth of the space between them. He brought his other arm up to wrap around her, crushing their bodies together as they quietly wept. Even as she wondered what he cried for, she felt a lot less lonely at the bottom of that trench in her heart.

A realization came like a bolt from the blue, a secret whispered from her heart to her ear. 

You love him. 

It was at once the heaviest and lightest secret she ever held, for it squirmed and thrashed from her heart in a desperate bid to be shared with him. Her mind caught it behind the bars of not the right time and it’s too soon to say it. Whatever delicate balance that kept them together, she didn’t think it could weather her whispering those three words right now.

I love you was a struck match. Attraction, glances, touches, kisses—those things were sparks, either catching heartstrings on fire or failing in a cough of smoke. Some hearts were made of kindling, ready for the match and burning bright and fast; other hearts were made of stubborn, damp timber. But hearts and hearths alike needed tending, feeding to burn through the darkest, coldest nights.

Osha knew the only warmth those words would bring now would be something akin to heartburn.

When they pulled back, eyes still glittering with unshed tears and unspoken things, she quietly thumbed away the tears on his face. He did the same for her, reverence in his starlit gaze as he fulfilled his duty. When he finished, he leaned down to kiss her lips, a soft thing that tasted of salt and starlight. The wave of grief had passed, and the storm was kept at bay another night.

For the first time, she didn’t feel the overwhelming need to apologize for crying.

She kissed him again, deeper. Their passion and heat charged in like a cavalry, decimating the lingering despair—at least while they touched. Osha wasn’t foolish enough to think her stranger’s affection would fully heal those broken pieces; especially if her own family hadn’t done so. But perhaps, with him, she could let him shore up the sides of her strength while she healed those sharp points herself. 

His hands were warm against her face, and she brought her own hands down to push under his t-shirt. She was going to kiss him again when her hands touched the smooth skin of his abdomen, but he jolted suddenly, making a noise of surprise. She didn’t draw back, peering closer at his suddenly very-neutral expression. “Are you… ticklish, stranger?” 

He scowled—no, that was another pout. “No, your hands are just blocks of ice,” he protested.

“No, they��re not.” She put her hands back on the trim, muscled sides of his torso and he squirmed back—“Look at you slithering! There are snakes out here! Ticklish snakes!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking ab-out—!”

She pounced. It was much the same position as he’d gotten her in, nights and nights ago, up in his dressing room. Her hands pinned his shoulders to the blanket, and her hips drove between his thighs to keep him where she wanted him. Qimir’s eyes widened, the struggle draining from him for several long, stunned seconds.

She’d taken him off guard. He looked just as surprised as she was.

Then, his jaw set and his hands came up to knock at hers.

The brief scramble for purchase was riddled with laughter and light, the stars’ brightness returning to the sky as they grappled on the blanket. He eventually got the upper hand—because she let him.

Osha landed against the blanket with an oof—it wasn’t as soft a landing as the wrestling mats at Unknown Planet. He had her pinned with one hand splayed wide against her chest, the other hand locked around her hip to keep her in place. Looming over her, he kept her locked in a hold she probably couldn’t have broken even if she wanted to. He breathed a little hard, but the feral smile on his face spoke wonders about all those naughty things he wanted to do with her.

Hello, Smiley.

Osha grinned sharply back at him, drawing her free leg up, up, up against his. She didn’t have the angle, strength, or want to flip the script on him, but she could distract him. She could shift the tides from here. Leveraging the only emotion that consistently overtook him in the ring, she ground her hips up against him. That emotion?

Pure, unfiltered desire.

He shuddered at the move, eyes closing as he gave into the feeling for a few indulgent seconds. He was hard; she could feel the burning heat of him against her inner thigh. When she sought to take more ground, he reinforced his pin on her. His eyes blazed hot as he glared down at her. “You know, Unplan doesn’t like this kind of fighting. Kind of obscene, don’t you think?”

“I thought you wanted to fight however you wanted.” She rolled her hips again. “Maybe I do, too.” She was openly tempting fate—and him. 

She wondered which was more powerful.

He smirked. She could practically hear him speaking directly into her mind—you’re playing with fire, Osha. She returned his gaze with a relaxed come-hither look.

To her disappointment, he released her, letting the air surge in between their heated bodies in a shock of cold.

“What?” she whined, pouting. She couldn’t free her hands to paw at him to get him to return, but she struggled against him.

“I’m not fucking you for the first time in a freezing cold field.”

Despite the furious heat that ignited in her face at the idea, she begrudgingly understood. “But we’re under the stars,” she protested anyway. And we don’t have to go all the way…

“Let’s raincheck the under-the-stars sex for spring; how’s that sound.” He sat back on his knees and helped her to sit up. Qimir rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed and calming his breathing—and perhaps, his dick. When she finally did the same, he said, “We’ve been out here for a few hours, and it’s only going to get colder. Let’s head back.”

Mae had texted her while they’d been stargazing.

M: Sol passed out on our couch before I left lol

M: I’m stayin somewhere else tonight

O: Yikes

Hm. A sleepover sounded more and more appealing right about now.

O: I might do the same

Mae returned Osha’s message instantly, which made her cringe. She’d probably been waiting for a reply since she sent it two hours ago.

M: Probably a good idea, even if you ARE getting out of hungover Sol duty

M: He said some weird shit before he passed out but it just sounded like he wanted to talk to us

O: Sol wtf??

O: Did u find out why?

M: No, but I can try to ask when we’re in Theed

M: Are you still with you know who?

O: Tell me who ur staying the night with and I’ll tell u

Mae’s little ‘Typing…’ bubble appeared, then disappeared. Osha could imagine her pouting.

M: Jecki

O: I KNEW IT OMGGGG

M: SHHHHH

M: It’s only practical I mean we’re driving to Theed together tomorrow adfjksjdhfsd

O: Suuuuuuuuure Mae suuuuuure

A few seconds passed without messages, and Osha knew she had to fulfill her end of the deal. But tonight had been so magical, she couldn’t bring herself to hide it from her sister.

O: I may be staying the night with him

O: I need to ask tho

She added one more thing, feeling oddly vulnerable while she did.

O: He took me stargazing

M: NO FUCKING WAY

Mae immediately tried to unsend her message, but Osha had already taken a hundred screenshots, cackling like the witches she was raised by. Osha teased her about breaking her three-year streak of not swearing, talking about framing that screenshot. They conversed mainly in emoji after that, teasing one another how they used to.

Osha knew things weren’t square between them. Mae was still extremely wary of Qimir even though she seemed… open to Osha seeing him. Qimir felt similarly about Mae, but based on his reactions to Osha’s reservations about granting forgiveness, he must have felt guilty about playing a part in the tension between the sisters. This birthday armistice had been nice, but Osha knew it would most likely end by morning.

She sighed and set down her phone after wishing Mae a good night. Her soul felt contented for the first time in a very long time.

“Everything alright?” Qimir asked, settling his hand back on her thigh now that they were back on the highway—heading west, outrunning the sunrise.

“Yeah, I just don’t wanna deal with my hungover dad when I get back.”

“What?” he said, concerned.

“Yeah, Mae said he celebrated our birthday too hard and passed out on our couch. But Mae left to hang out with her girlfriend so I’m stuck on drunk dad duty. And I totally knew Jecki was her girlfriend even though she didn’t say anything. I feel so vindicated.”

Her attempts at brushing past the uncomfortable parts of her story were met with tense silence, and her heart dropped. Qimir flexed his fingers over the steering wheel. “Does he do that a lot?” he asked softly.

The serious concern in his tone made her cringe. She made herself laugh, pushing levity into the air. “No, it’s not like—well, it’s not super often. We just—we always joke that for as much as Sol’s a welterweight, he’s outclassed against Mae’s mulled wine.”

No, they didn’t. Why would someone joke about that?

Qimir nodded tightly, and she felt her face go a little hot, blood going acidic with shame. The familiar words needed to defend Sol rose in her mouth like bile, but she didn’t spit them out like she’d done a hundred times before. It was probably good that she did—until Osha knew where Sol fit into everything, she didn’t want to praise him around Qimir. He was reacting a little strongly to her news, very tense and still and quiet about it. For all she knew, Sol was the one who—

No, don’t even imagine that, Osha.

Qimir was saying something.

“What?”

“I said, if that’s the case, you can stay the night at my place.”

I’m not fucking you for the first time in a freezing cold field, he’d said. And his apartment was certainly not freezing cold…

Her lips curled into a very self-satisfied grin. “Like a sleepover?”

“To sleep,” Qimir chuckled, knowing just where her mind had gone.

“But it’s my birthday,” she pouted, knowing she was being childish.

“You’re right, it is,” he said flatly. “For the next… fourteen minutes.”

The horny part of her brain that she’d recently allowed out on parole started rioting in the streets of her mind. NO!!!! He wants to sleep with you but in the WRONG WAY!!

A quick check-in with her body told her she was growing pretty tired—and he drove all the way here from Khofar earlier today, she reminded herself. 

“Do you want me to stay the night?” she asked.

The hand on her thigh flexed a little, as if he was keeping his hand from grabbing her impulsively. “I do,” he said, voice gone a little low—louder than he’d been speaking before.

“Then I would love to stay over. Thank you for offering.”

His hand grabbed hers to kiss her knuckles briefly before returning to its post on her thigh. She relaxed, and smiled for the rest of the drive back.

She took a step toward the trunk after they parked. “I can carry the blankets up,” she offered.

He waved her off, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. They can survive another night in the trunk.”

The walk to his apartment felt too similar to the last time she’d been there—three days ago, pacing the hall and wondering where he’d gone. Osha swallowed down the memory as he let them in.

The soft lamplight held a similar cozy glow as the stars, though not as cold and distant. This was a comfort she could touch, a relief within reach. She sat on his couch beside him as they took off their shoes, and he put them by the door along with their coats. Her heart did flips as she wondered repeatedly—is this where he drops the act? Is this where he comes out behind the door and grabs me in a passionate fervor and tosses me on the bed and tears my clothes off like a fierce conqueror indulging in the spoils of—

He returned bearing a few things—a shirt, a pair of basketball shorts, and a sheepish expression. “I’m a bit short on actual pajamas, but I hope these will do.”

No spoils of war this time, huh.

She zipped into the bathroom to change, schooling her wanton imagination at least for now. Like they did at Unplan, she kept the door cracked so they could talk if they wanted. But the energy here was much more charged than it was in Unplan, and it kept her from actually speaking as she disrobed.

What would happen if I just walked out there in nothing but my underwear? a reckless part of her posited.

Surely, nothing good. But perhaps… something great.

The demons were winning this war against her self-control, but in the end, she did not do any of those depraved things she’d been thinking about. I deserve a medal. 

He was in a deep spine stretch that even Osha probably couldn’t reach, despite her lifelong devotion to flexibility. Oh yeah. Nighttime stretches. There will be no warrior-maiden roleplay this evening. Bummer.

She had the perfect vantage point of him as he looked up and went preternaturally still. He didn’t even seem to breathe as his eyes raked across her body, taking in every inch of her as she moved closer. She settled before him and folded herself into a similar pose, holding eye contact as she wordlessly fell into her usual nighttime stretching routine.

He broke her gaze, and Osha caught the sliver of his smile a moment before he hid it in his stretch.

It felt unspeakably intimate, like sharing a sacred ritual only ever performed in private. The only noises were their breathing, the soft shift of fabric, and the brief slide of skin against skin. At some point, their breathing synced up, inhales matching exhales. Their internal clocks lined up such that they switched sides simultaneously without even speaking.

His routine was slightly longer than her own, but not overly so. Since he’d gotten a head start on her, they finished around the same time, two bodies laying beside one another in corpse pose. What a false term for such a serene position—especially when Osha had never felt so alive.

His hand brushed hers, probably a signal to sit up, but she laced her fingers with his instead. He didn’t miss a beat, squeezing her hand once and rolling to a seated position. She followed suit, though she liked the view of him slightly above her. 

Her suppositions from before had been correct. He looked tired, the hours of the day weighing on his face.

“Sleepy?” she asked.

He nodded. Osha brought his hand to her lap to lightly trace it with her fingertips. She marveled at how his bones turned smooth skin into bodily geography—knuckles making mountains and valleys, tendons in the back of his drawing lines like tilled earth all the way to his wrist, where soft blue veins carved rivers of blood in toward his heart and back again. A whole world upon his hand, and only she could see it, touch it.

He probably knew the anatomical names for every part of him she touched. He’d been trained to see the hand for its anatomy, for its limits and its functions. Osha had spent her childhood reading hands like divinity had whispered secrets into every dip, valley, ridge, and whorl.

I wonder if I still got it, she thought. How much her palmistry knowledge had been lost to fire and tragedy?

His palm told the story of a man riddled by betrayal and loneliness, his strength forged not in fire but by storms weathered. His soul was well-rooted, grounded in reality, not ambition, so spake his hand. What goals he had would be achieved, come hell or high water. She’d done this before, once—speaking with him in his office. Mount of Venus, heart line, fate line, life line. His heart started jagged but faint, and strengthened by degrees across his palm. His fate split in two early on, but skipped back to the same line after some time—and again, and again, and again. And his—

“What does my hand say?”

His voice broke the quiet like a spoon on burnt sugar. His fatigued smile still showed interest in her.

She’d read him the stars earlier, and she would have gladly read him his palm and his fortune, but perhaps first… a bit of mischief.

Osha bit back her grin and bent over his hand, rubbing her thumbs across the ridges and callouses. He held still, obedient despite her giving no orders. She hummed like she was deeply considering the quandary before her. She looked up, serious as the grave, and said, “It says you masturbate with this hand.”

His jaw went slack and a blush bloomed high in his cheeks before he laughed, probably too loud for this time of night. He sucked a breath in to possibly speak, but no words came out—only more peals of laughter. He didn’t move his hand from her hold, not even as he tossed his head back to laugh some more. Osha joined him, giggling over the joke.

In middle school, it had gotten out that she and Mae were raised by a cult of witches in the boonies. Mae had denounced it quite publicly, saying she didn’t believe in all that. 

(Osha knew better. Osha remembered how her sister earnestly bowed her head at the spells, moved with intention through forms, and assisted in moon rituals and holidays on the Wheel. Osha remembered when they were almost worshiped by the other women. Osha remembered that Mae liked it. Mae just liked being liked, and people liked you better when you weren’t weird. Osha never learned that lesson.)

But Osha had responded to the bullying in a different way. She could never block out the scorn or the teasing jokes, and she allowed it to incense her to the point where she could deftly shift the embarrassment back on her antagonizers. Osha had a million comebacks for every person who sought to ridicule the faith practices they were raised on: The cards told me your parents don’t love you. All the stars and planets have aligned to whisper a truth: you fucking suck. You masturbate with this hand. It earned her a reputation as someone not to be messed with, and she wore it proudly, even though it isolated her further from her peers.

But Qimir wasn’t a bully wheedling for her to read her fortune just to laugh at her. Qimir was playful, Qimir was fun. Qimir liked her jokes and made her feel like she could be herself again. He even made her feel a sliver of that worship that once made her uncomfortable—but not now.

“Your face—!” she laughed, nearly tipping to the side while Qimir gathered himself again.

“And you accuse me of playing with my food,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “You loved that.”

Shameless, she smiled. “Yes, I did.”

They soon lay on opposite sides of his bed. To sleep, he’d said. Insisted, really. The earlier laughter made it easier to stay on target, but when they were settled in, and the lights went out, all that potential for nighttime activities returned with hurricane force, battering against a crumbling sea wall of self-control. Osha swallowed, staring up at the darkness and chewing on her lip.

“For the record, your hand said you’d live a very long, healthy life,” she said, nerves coloring her voice. She couldn’t bring herself to say much else, let alone the things she’d actually read and felt. “I’m a bit rusty, though. You could die tomorrow, and it’s your hand’s fault.”

That selfsame hand came to wrap around one of hers, prying her fingers open from the claw they’d made around the comforter. Osha forced herself to relax, focusing on her breathing and her heart rate. He didn’t remark on her hasty words, and was quiet for so long she thought he’d fallen asleep. Just as she was about to doze off, he spoke.

“For the record, your original reading was accurate anyway.”

The noise Osha made wasn’t remotely human.

“Good night, Osha.”

Her senses awoke one by one—first, the smell of breakfast and coffee. Second, the sound of someone cooking said breakfast. Third—

God damn it, Qimir is not allowed to be that sexy first thing when I wake up.

She snuggled in closer to the pillow beneath her head to watch him work in comfort, hiding half her face beneath the covers. He’d opened the curtains over some of his windows for once, letting in the pale winter sunlight. It made him look like a carved marble statue come to life, leeched of his actual skin color but resplendent and perfect nonetheless.

His scar didn’t snag her gaze the way it had the first couple of times she’d seen him shirtless. It was part of him, a part of him that wouldn’t go away—the same as her scars. And she loved it just the same.

God, so I really do love him, don’t I? she thought to herself.

As if sensing her thoughts about him, he turned to look back over his shoulder. He had no shirt on, but… he’d put on his glasses? What the fuck, nerdy fantasies. There was a soft clatter as he set the pans to the side. Then, he set his sights on a new focus: her, awake. He was by her side in three long strides, and parked his ass right next to her on the bed.

Up close, his handsomeness was lethal. His hair fell loose around his face, still mussed on one side. Bedhead. “Good morning,” he said, resting one hand on her hip. He gently tugged the covers off her face when she didn’t readily respond.

She was still in that warm, hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, gaping at his (quite honestly) illegal I-woke-up-like-this hotness. He tilted his head to the side, inky black hair brushing over his stupid, broad shoulders.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes drifting off her face and down her body like he could X-ray image her through the covers.

“I’m okay!” she said, squeaking and moving to sit up too fast. She smacked her head against the wood headboard—“Fuuuuck!”

“Whoa, whoa,” he said, helping her ease away from the headboard and guiding her to a seated position. His eyes had taken on a more serious glint.

Hello, Coach Lo will see you now.

Even his voice had dropped to that authoritative pitch. “That sounded like it h—”

“You’re too hot to be doing this right now,” she complained, interrupting him. “See? I have a concussion now.”

“H-how does that correlate?” he asked, voice gone a little high.

“Because you’re too goddamn pretty it breaks my brain,” she said flatly.

That same precious pink blush from the night before flared across his cheekbones. Osha reveled in how deeply she could fluster him. She was used to rattling his composure, just a shake of the bars on his self-made cage here and there. This wasn’t really rattling—this was something else, something that touched a little deeper than he thought someone could reach.

“I don’t—you. You’re beautiful,” he stammered.

His bashfulness was adorable. It was a marvel that he could ever step into the ring against another fighter, if he was so affected by something so terrifying as flattery.

“Yeah, well, who’s concussed?” she finally said, breath leaving her in a nervous tremble.

“You’re not concussed,” he laughed.

“You don’t know that,” she pouted.

He raised one eyebrow. “I’ve got a doctorate that says otherwise.”

“Do your athletes ever call you Doctor Loharne?” she said, holding onto the subject shift with both hands.

“Well, I’m a DPT, only MDs really get called Doctor.”

Pouting, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Semantics.”

He grasped her chin lightly between his fingertips, turning her face back to him in an aching, heart-stopping, knee-weakening gesture that stole her breath. “Follow my finger with your eyes,” he said, mock-serious. She was helpless but to follow his orders, playing along. “Hmm, pupils responding normally, if a bit dilated,” he smirked. “Do you know where you are?”

“Your apartment,” she scoffed, fighting back her smile.

“Where’d we go last night?”

“A random field off of ��77.”

“What’s your name?”

“Osha Aniseya.”

“And who am I?”

“You’re mine.”

His jaw dropped, allowing a startled breath to trip out of his lungs. His eyes went wide, but his blinks looked like he was forcing himself to do so. He looked seconds from pinching himself.

“Was that not the answer you were expecting?” she teased.

He fell toward her, leaning in to kiss her like a prince waking a princess—

Okay, warrior-maiden roleplay is back.

He moved his legs up to straddle over top of her, pinning her mostly beneath the covers as he kissed her. Still just in sweats, her hands yearned to touch him, greedy in a way she wasn’t used to. His lips moved smoothly over hers, but the sheer excitement and eagerness in his kisses belied his more affected nature.

He’d been feeling more around her—not only feeling, but showing her those feelings, too. His want, his desire, his affection. They were all there, but it was only recently that he made a choice to let her in on the secret. And knowing all this, she shared her secrets back. Osha moaned into his mouth, wrenching her hands free from their bedding prison so she could grab at him how she wanted.

It made his arms fucking buckle, the first time she dragged her nails over his shoulders. He pressed almost his full weight against her, his body rolling it into a smooth press against her. They were nearly flush, hip-to-hip and mouth-to-mouth at the bare minimum. And he was hungry. His lips found her mouth, her jaw, and her neck to nibble and bite and suck on. Osha gasped up at the ceiling, sensation sparking down her spine as heat pooled between her legs so quickly she would have swooned if she was standing.

He wasn’t disaffected by the closeness, either. As before, last night beneath the stars, he was hard against her, but instead of drawing back, he rolled his hips foward, joining her. He felt nearly searching, tentative as he felt out her comfort level with his.

That level was fucking high.

“Get off the sheets,” she mumbled, practically kicking them down and off of her. His dark chuckle, low and husky, accompanied her victory. Qimir kissed her again, settling between her thighs with an indulgent groan.

“Fuck, you already feel so good,” he sighed, breathing the words against her neck. He withdrew only a few inches, enough to see her eyes. His hands went to her hips, gripping them before hauling her halfway into his lap.

Osha’s mind shorted out as his erection pressed right against her clit—just a few swishy layers of fabric between them. But he didn’t move, waiting for her response. She considered their bodies, biting her lip and delighting in the swollen, tingling feeling he’d left her with. Whatever conscious consideration went into the glint of determination in her eyes, she hoped it was enough for him to continue.

Apparently it was as he continued to rock his hips forward. The entire searing length of him dragged over the second-best place it could, all told. She feared she’d burn beneath his touch if there were any fewer clothes between them. He pressed his face into her neck, mouthing and kissing over the spots that made her moan, and biting at the places that had her hips kicking up against his in helpless pleasure.

Time felt sticky, unimportant between them. They were racing for an end she couldn’t see but could feel fast approaching. Qimir’s bulk blocked out the majority of her vision when he rose onto his elbows above her. He didn’t speak, only looking down at her. His teeth glinted white behind the dark red flush in his parted lips. The expectation in her mind curled into confusion the longer he moved without speaking—and then her insides did a flip when she realized:

He wants to watch me come.

It felt like the breath was punched out of her, her body almost jolting at the next roll of his hips against her. How did he know? How did he know she could come just like this, with him pressed against her? Perhaps it was just how worked up he’d gotten her, perhaps it was the stars aligning for that perfect, perfect friction—whatever it was, he was confident about how this was going to go.

Her nails dug into his upper biceps, and her body went limp and pliant for him. Do as you will, the move said. I’m yours. At that thought, she whispered, “You’re mine.”

Qimir’s groan sounded almost painful, and she felt his cock twitch against her through his shorts. His movements hastened, and what control she had over her sanity was quickly jettisoned off the face of the earth. A soft whine escaped her mouth, and she strained not to writhe and ruin the perfect thing he was giving her. A garbled whimper of his name had him sinking to press his forehead against hers, eyes still boring holes into her soul.

Just like that, she was there. Her legs couldn’t snap closed against the onslaught of white-hot pleasure, wrapped around his hips as they were. She fought to keep her eyes open for him, but they kept fluttering closed until a new wave of pleasure crashed over her. She felt fucking possessed, haunted by need and feeling and more—

And he was talking, she realized.

“—that’s it, just take it, come for me, Osha. C’mon, baby,” he groaned softly, practically whispering as to not speak over the desperate noises he was pulling from her. “So beautiful like this, go ahead, ride it out, use me just like that—”

Another whine of his name had him snapping back to attention and out of the pleasured haze he’d been drifting in. “Want you to—” she could only get a few words out before he kissed her, hard.

“You want me to come for you like this?” he breathed, practically speaking into her mouth.

She nodded, their teeth clacking together a little as she struggled to kiss him back. “Can you?” she asked.

His breath hitched and he closed his eyes, drawing a deep inhale through his nose. He gave a quick, jerky nod before checking on her again, that is this what you want am I what you want vulnerability shining through.

She brought a hand to the back of his head, twining her fingers into his hair and keeping him here with her, in the moment. “Let me see you,” she whispered, weakly rolling her hips up against him. The overstimulation was fast approaching, sparks blowing closer to dry grass.

His face flushed red as he gave a shaky little thrust against her, nerves driving him until desire took the reins once again. And then he was there, that leashed, monstrous want he kept behind his ribs.

Hello, there, her smirk said to it.

When he realized she wasn’t going to flinch or shy away from him, he pressed harder against her, a firm and claiming weight that had her almost concerned she’d come again, just watching him chase his orgasm. Soft, needy whines escaped on the tail of his every harsh exhale, primal and thrilling and everything she ever wanted.

You love him, she was unhelpfully reminded.

She drove the soul-deep feelings away, focusing on him. Osha tugged at the root of his hair, where it wouldn’t hurt but it’d burn. The noise he made was unforgettable, echoing sharply in the cavernous apartment. It heralded his peak, and he gave two, three sharp thrusts before he gritted his teeth and rode out his orgasm. He looked nearly in pain as he came, the muscles in his neck and shoulders straining beneath her touch. It grew hotter, wetter between them, the warmth seeping into not just their clothes but every fucking inch of her.

He was shaking, frozen still as he tried to put the pieces of his mind back together. She gently rolled him off her, just to the side but still touching. He ducked his face into her shoulder, hardly possessing the capacity to kiss her—so instead, he just pressed his face there.

Their breaths evened out, neither forcing calm between them as they came down from the madness. When he lifted his head from her shoulder, his eyes still looked hazy, but the sated, happy smile on his lips made her heart soar.

“Hello,” she said softly, pushing back the hair that had fallen in his eyes.

“‘Lo,” he slurred. God, she felt like she was glowing.

“Hi,” she laughed.

His eyes filled with that I’m gonna kiss you now look. “Hi,” he mumbled, leaning in—

The smoke detector objected. He froze, just a half-inch from her lips.

“God fucking damn it—” he growled, eyes sliding to the side like he could glare the shrill beeping away. Stubbornly, he finished what he was going to do and kissed her anyway, deep and filthy and hot. Despite the passion, it made her laugh in delight the moment he ripped himself away from her.

She had to keep herself from depravedly watching his lower half as he snapped the range dials off and searched for a tea towel. The smoke detector sang the song of its people, and Osha could only continue laughing at the circus unfolding before her. 

Qimir leveled a baleful (but playful) glare in her direction as he waved a towel around, but when the apartment went blissfully quiet, he dropped the scowl in favor of a smile.

“Excellent work, Coach Lo,” she said, her voice only a little shaky from the draining adrenaline of their previous activities. She’d intended the remark to tease, but it had a much different effect on him than she planned for.

Even from the bed, she could see his eyes darken again, how they’d done when she pulled on his hair. Qimir rolled his shoulders back and breathed out—very slowly. At the very end of his exhale, he tilted his head, considering her with amusement and no small amount of caution. His fingers tapped, fidgeting, against the counter where he’d pressed his hands flat atop them.

“What?” she asked, less nervous than delighted.

“I just didn’t know how much I’d like hearing you call me that.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Yeah. Oh.”

Shit. That was out loud.

“Um. Do you need help with breakfast?” she asked, getting to her feet finally. She was surprised she could even goddamn walk, as relatively tame as they’d been. Her legs still felt like jelly.

He looked over his shoulder at the pan. “It can be salvaged, but…” his gaze looked down at something hiding behind the counter. Osha’s face flushed.

“You clean up, I’ll plate,” she said, approaching him with that same amusement-caution cocktail he was sipping at.

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before brushing by her to do just that.

He was right; breakfast was salvageable, and she joined him after her turn in his bathroom. The atmosphere was relaxed and perfect, the afterglow of shared pleasure and tangled sheets still radiant in their skin.

Breakfast conversation followed that same kind of feeling, mild and a little sleepy in places as they woke up for real this time. It was incredible, how an orgasm could push away the mountain of questions that threatened to crush any contentment they felt.

As if knowing she wasn’t thinking about it, all those unspoken, unasked things slammed back into her. This time, he caught her sudden pensiveness.

“What is it?” he asked, the hint of nervousness in his voice drawing her back in. Did I do something wrong? Do you regret me? Do you not want me? All those questions lingered in his eyes.

She took his hand. “You’re fine,” she assured him, kissing his knuckles.

“Something’s the matter, though. That’s your something’s the matter face.”

She sighed. Maybe it was naive of her to think she could stave off the questions and uncomfortable topics forever, even if this moment was perfect. With enough time, those topics would make it so there was never a perfect moment again. The last week itself was enough to have her buckle under the stress—from Indara’s conversation in the storage closet he used to live in, to the questions she had about the fight two months back, to Qimir’s disappearance.

Not to mention Idise.

She didn’t want me to find and follow him.

She had a lot to say, a lot to ask, and she had to start somewhere.

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “So Idise was at the Temple.”

CHAPTER 19

A bit of post-script:

The song referenced is Trouble by Cage the Elephant

Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare is referenced twice which is really an exercise in restraint for me as the first draft had FIVE (5) references: the title, yet hanging in the stars, is at 1.4.105; and the what's in a name soliloquy is at 2.2.46-47

also formatting the texts for tumblr is equal parts so much fun and such a hassle i hope someone out there enjoys them

[the-travelling-witch]

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ Day 5: Winter Walk ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

“Xiao, look!” you gasped, excitedly holding out your hand to capture the first falling snowflakes.

Xiao and you had been strolling around Guili Plains, enjoying the stillness and peace of the crisp winter air, far from the prying eyes of others. The two of you were either engaging in idle chatter or walking in comfortable silence as you admired the changing of the seasons. 

When you looked over at Xiao, beaming as the crystals settled on your glove, you found his amber eyes were already fixed on you. There was a soft smile playing around his lips as he studied your expression, committing all of it to memory as if he hadn’t done so thousands of times.

With a position and duty as his, it was easy to lose sight of life’s small joys, the little things that made life worth living. But as you invited him into your life, he suddenly found himself confronted with a huge number of them, almost overwhelmingly so. It took the adeptus quite some time to shift his perception of the world but as he did, Xiao finally understood why his former friends longed for this mundane existence.

“It’s snowing,” he said, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with something more profound to remark. The sound of your genuine laugh he had grown so fond of, remedied his anguish as soon as it had befallen him. 

“Look at this one.” Holding out your hand to him, he carefully held it between his and examined the snowflake on your index finger. Once more, he was struck with the realisation that he had never even bothered to look at the sparkling snow up close, taking in the tiny structures making it up. “They say that no two snowflakes are ever completely the same. It’s really cool when you think about it. I can’t wait ‘til more of them fall, it bet Liyue will look super pretty.”

“It will,” Xiao reassured you before stepping closer, softly wrapping your scarf tighter around you. “Do you want to head back to Wangshu Inn? We’ve been out here for a while and I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“It’s just a bit of snow, I’ll be fine.” As you gazed into striking gold, your gloved fingers wrapped around his wrists and guided his palms to cup your cheeks. “Besides, I want to watch more of the snowfall.”

 “Hmm, you could see a lot farther from the top of the Inn though,” Xiao reasoned, “and we can come back tomorrow when more of it has fallen.”

“You’ve got a point. Alright, let’s call it a day.”

Leaning in, Xiao pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin just a little longer than usually. In the silent winter landscape, no other sound besides your breathing could be heard, a moment as delicate as a frozen bubble on water and you never wanted it to end.

“I love you, (y/n).” Before he could stop himself, the words had escaped him without any sense of where he was going with them or where the urgent need to confess them came. 

But you, beautiful you, only graced him with a knowing smile, quietly repeating them back to him, as if you were sharing a secret meant for only the two of you. Xiao still didn’t understand how you did it, how you reawakened the long forgotten side of him that looked upon the world with curiosity and wonder.

And maybe, he didn’t have to understand. Maybe, he could just indulge and open himself up to that feeling; to you.

“(Y/n),” Xiao called, intertwining his hands with yours as you hummed, “can you explain more of those mortal traditions to me?”

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙  holly's 2022 advent calendar  ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

[ladyantiheroine]

Business and Pleasure

Summary: A night working after hours leaves Snow and Bigby stuck in the office elevator. Read on AO3.

Pairing: Bigby Wolf x Snow White

Warnings: Explicit sexual content.

Word Count: 3.5k words

Tags: Trapped in elevator, vaginal sex, elevator sex, forced proximity, wall sex, office sex, resolved sexual tension.

Never mix business and pleasure. 

It was a motto that Snow White carried with her everywhere. What happened at the office stayed at the office, and what happened at home stayed at home. And now that she was Fabletown’s deputy mayor, she more than ever needed to keep a strict line between the two. But like with most rules, there were circumstances when following them became especially difficult.

Specifically, when those circumstances involved Bigby Wolf.

Things between Snow and Bigby had been…interesting, since she was promoted to deputy mayor. While nothing in their relationship had changed fundamentally, it was still strange when she heard Bigby refer to her as “my boss” instead of “my partner” or “my coworker.” Even though Snow couldn’t imagine Bigby as anything less than her equal. They were no longer the sheriff and the secretary trapped under the thumb of Crane, which was good. But still, ever since the Crooked Man investigation, something had changed between them. There were many moments during the whole ordeal when they had been certain they had lost each other. And those moments had brought something out of each other that had not been there before. Or maybe, it had always been there, in the centuries they had known each other, and only now were beginning to surface. She did her best to stay focused. Deputy mayor was an important job, one that did not allow for distractions. And yet despite her efforts, she would find her gaze lingering on Bigby. She watched his eyes, his hands, the outline of his broad shoulders under his shirt. She caught glimpses of his tongue and teeth and it would send a quiver through her stomach.

“Snow?”

Snow snapped her head up from her desk. Bigby was seated in a chair across from her, glancing up at her from a stack of papers in his lap.

“Huh?” she said. 

“You're looking at me funny,” he said.

Snow felt her face go warm. She quickly composed her thoughts and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Sorry,” she said. “Just…getting sleepy, that’s all.”

Bigby nodded. The two of them were working overtime that night. They had a recent flood of complaints and reports from Fabletown citizens, enough for them to get behind. And so to get back on schedule, the two were forced to stay in the office after hours to get them cleared away and organized. This meant they both had to stay behind in the office while everyone else went home.

“Me too,” Bigby said. 

He pulled a pack of Huff N’ Puff out of his pocket and lit himself one. Snow’s eyes drifted up from the paperwork in front of her. She watched him stick the cigarettes between his teeth, watched his hands flick on the metal lighter, the smoke escaping his lips as he took a drag. 

Snow had always known the sheriff was attractive. From that first day he was infected with lycanthropy and began taking on a human form, when she first saw him emerge in his new body, she knew he was a good-looking man. 

“There’s only a few of these left,” he said. “I think it might be a good idea if we finish up the rest tomorrow. We could both use some sleep.”

Snow nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” she said.

Bigby gathered the stack of papers, then stood up and returned it to the filing cabinet. As he did Snow watched him, her eyes staring at his shoulders then down his back…

Enough with that, her brain scowled at her.

Snow quickly turned back to her paperwork. She stuffed all the sheets into a manilla folder and then slid them into a drawer in her desk.

“I’ll get started on those reports first thing tomorrow,” Bigby said.

Snow stood up and grabbed her briefcase. It was already late, probably sometime past midnight. She needed to get home, get some sleep, and stop thinking about things other than her mayor duties.

Bigby held open the door for her as the two of them stepped out of the office. Snow locked the office door and the two made their way down the hall towards the elevators. Bigby took another drag of his cigarette and tossed it into a waste bin they passed. 

“I swear to God, I don’t know how you got anything done before you took office,” Bigby said. “Those filing cabinets are a nightmare.”

Snow shrugged.

“Well, my predecessor was never interested in work enough to bother keeping things organized,” she said.

The two of them reached the elevator. Bigby pressed the button and moments later there was a bing and the door opened. The two stepped inside and Snow hit the button for the bottom floor.

“Hopefully we can get everything in shape tomorrow morning,” Snow said. The door closed shut.

“Yeah,” Bigby said. “And then you can go back to focusing on what matters. Saving Fabletown and generally being heroic.”

He shot her a playful smirk. He said it like it was an innocent joke between coworkers, but something about it made Snow’s heart skip. His words made her face grow warm, and Snow suddenly became hyper-aware of how close they were together in that small space. She watched the numbers on the digital screen above the buttons counted down, every silent moment bringing them closer to the ground floor. Then they could get out, she could get home, get some sleep, and stop thinking about—

And then, the whole thing stopped. The elevator jolted to a halt, startling both of them. Snow jumped and almost stumbled until Bigby grabbed her arm.

“You okay?” he said.

Snow's face flushed pink, her skin flared where Bigby’s hand was on her arm. She quickly stepped away.

“I’m fine,” she said. “What happened?” “Looks like the elevator’s stuck.” Snow’s heart thudded.

“What do you mean stuck?”

Bigby’s eyes inspected the door. The whole thing wasn’t moving, no mechanical sounds, no feeling of the compartment’s weight going down. Snow ran a nervous hand through her hair and sighed.

“Great,” she said. “So much for getting sleep.”

Bugby crossed his arm and leaned back on the wall.

“People come and go through this building all the time, even at this hour,” he said. “I know for a fact that Flycatcher is working a custodial shift tonight. Eventually he or someone else is going to notice that the elevator isn’t working, and they'll send someone to fix it.”

He had a point. There was always someone lingering behind in the building late at night. Security officers, janitors, employees who forgot something. Someone would eventually notice that the sheriff and deputy mayor had yet to leave the office and would find the elevator suck.

“You’re right,” Snow said. 

She crossed her arms and took a deep breath. Bigby gave her a consolatory look. 

“We’ll be out of here soon,” he said. “We just need to wait it out a bit.”

“I guess.”

Bigby pressed his back to the wall and lowered himself to the floor. Snow sat down with her back to the opposite wall, pulling her legs in and hugging them. For what felt like an hour they were silent. 

Snow kept her eyes to the ground, but every other minute or so she let her gaze slip up to Bigby. He fiddled with his cigarette lighter in his hands. His fingertips moved around his shiny silver edge. Her eyes traced up the hair on the back of his hand, his knuckles that were always bandaged or bruised, long, strong fingers that moved the lighter around.

Bigby’s voice pulled Snow from her thoughts

“A penny for your thoughts?”

Snow’s eyes snapped up from Bigby’s hands to his eyes. She flushed, like he’d caught her doing something illicit.

“Huh?” she said.

“You look like you’re thinking hard about something,” he said. 

Snow raised an eyebrow.

“How can you tell?” she asked.

“Whenever you’re thinking hard about something, you make this face.”

Bigby narrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose. 

Snow scoffed.

“I do not,” she said.

“Yes you do, I see it on you all the time whenever you’re focusing on something or frustrated by something.”

Nothing about Bigby’s tone suggested he was messing with her. Moreover, she was surprised he noticed something like that about her at all. Bigby leaned forward, moving his back from the wall.

“Care to share what’s on your mind?” he said. “I don’t know how much longer we’ll be in here.” Snow pursed her lips and looked at the floor. Her finger fiddled with a loose thread at the end of her skirt. She tried to think of a response that wasn’t about her staring at his hands.

“I was just…” Snow fumbled for her words. “What you said a few minutes ago, about me ‘saving Fabletown.’”

Bigby shrugged.

“I mean, it’s true,” he said. “Things have gotten better around here since you replaced he-who-must-not-be-named.” He gave her a soft look. “Is there something wrong?” Snow shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I mean, it’s just…” She sighed. “I’m sorry if I’ve been acting…weird lately. Since the investigation, things have been a bit overwhelming lately.” “I don’t blame you. You became deputy mayor suddenly in very scary circumstances.” He flicked the lighter on and off. “I don’t blame you for feeling overwhelmed.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “If it’s any consolation, you’ve been doing a hell of a lot better than I would be in your position.” Snow gave a small smile. “I doubt that,” she said. She lifted her eyes to him. “I mean, you’ve been a big part of this too. You say I’m saving Fabletown, but you’re the one who blew that investigation open. And you’ve been such a big help since.” She paused. “Is it weird for me to be your boss?” Bigby flicked the lighter absently.

“Not really,” he said. He lifted his eyes to hers. “You were bossing me around even before the promotion. I’m used to it.” He said those words with a playful smirk on his face. Snow grinned and looked at her lap.

“That’s good to hear,” she said. She glanced at the lighter in his hands. “Could you put that away? We’re still trapped in here. The last thing we need is a fire.” Bigby smirked and rolled his eyes, then shoved the lighter back in his pocket.

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

Something about those words made Snow’s stomach titter. She bit her lip and dropped her eyes again.

“Ever since the investigation, things have felt different,” she said. “And I don’t just mean because people are gone, or because the system is starting to change. The office, the other Fables, you…” “What about me?” he asked.

Snow wouldn’t meet his eyes. She was so tired that she was speaking without thinking. 

“Sorry,” Snow said. She stood up and faced the elevator door. She could see a fuzzy reflection of herself staring back. 

Snow sensed Bigby rise to his feet and step closer. She could feel him behind her. “Snow,” Bigby said softly. “Why do I have the feeling there’s something else you’re thinking about? Something you’re not telling me?”

Snow turned to face him. He was standing so close to her. Close enough that she could feel his breath on her lips, smell the cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes. Close enough she could feel the heat radiating off his flesh just under that shirt and tie.

“Snow,” Bigby said. “You’re looking at me funny again.”

Snow’s eyes fell to his lips.

Fuck it she thought.

Her hand grabbed the knot of his tie, and she pulled him into a kiss. Bigby made a surprise sound against her lips, his body freezing. But seconds later, his mouth relaxed into hers. He tasted like his Huff N’ Puff cigarettes and his whiskers tickled at her upper lip, but she didn’t mind it at all. It all tasted and felt just like him.

Snow wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. The kiss deepened and made her hungrier. She wanted to taste him. She wanted to touch him in ways she’d been denying herself for what felt like forever.

Bigby wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her body closer to his. He smoothed one hand up her back and into her hair, cradling her head in his palm. The other grazed around to the front of her skirt, and then stopped.

Their lips came apart and they looked at each other. Snow’s lips felt cold where he kissed her. Her heart was racing, and she could feel with her chest pressed to his that his was too.

“Snow,” he said. His voice was low, his breath smokey at his lips. “Are we going to…”

Snow answered his question before he could finish. She pressed her lips to his again, hungrier, more desperate this time. Bigby let out a moan deep in his throat was sounded suspiciously close to a growl. Snow grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him backward with her until she felt her back hit the wall. With her free hand, she unbuttoned the front of her skirt and moved Bigby’s hand down into her underwear.

Bigby wasted no time. He pressed his fingers inside her and started massaging away. Snow tipped her head back against the wall as waves of pleasure shot up her body. Bigby trailed whiskery kisses down her jaw and neck as he pressed deeper and deeper between her thighs.

Snow closed her eyes, and for a second she remembered what was happening. She and the sheriff were about to go at it only a few floors from the office. So many lines crossing in one elevator, the lines between professional and personal getting very blurry. She was his boss. They were coworkers for years. The deputy mayor in her knew this was the kind of thing that could come back and bite her in the ass later.

And yet, the last thing in the world she wanted to do was stop.

She felt a rising inside her, starting at Bigby’s fingers and moving quickly up her body. She grabbed his wrist and made him stop. He moved his lips from her neck and looked her in the eye, a look on his face asking if something was wrong. Nothing was wrong. He was exactly where she wanted him to be. “I want you inside me,” she said. She almost didn’t believe the words when they left her mouth, but she meant them. Fuck business and pleasure. She was going to fuck the sheriff in the elevator.

Bigby gave her a look. Something shimmered in his eyes, which shifted from brown to a wolfish gold. He slid his fingers out of her and then reached for the knot of his tie.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he said. There was a smirk in his voice. Snow watched as he pulled his tie loose and let it fall to the floor. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt, the white fabric opening to reveal the hot, hard flesh underneath. The shirt fell down his shoulders and onto the floor. Snow had seen Bigby half-naked several times before, usually when his wounds were being treated. But she always professionally averted her gaze away from him. Now, she let her eyes wander up and down his body: his broad shoulders, his perfectly toned chest, and all that dark, wolfish hair. And then he started unbuttoning his pants… He let his belt fall to the floor, the buckle making a metallic clack on the ground. He took her hips in his hands then started kissing her neck again. His fingers moved to her blouse and kissed her flesh down as he buttoned it. Snow moaned as he traced his lips and tongue down her chest over her heart. 

He pressed his lips to her neck again and slid his thumbs into the waist of her skirt, then pulled them and her underwear down. At this point, Snow was so turned on she thought she would burst at any second. Her skin was burning hot and her heart was pounding. She was getting impatient. 

“Bigby,” she breathed into his ear.

She let out a sharp breath as he shoved himself inside her.

Bigby reached down and lifted Snow up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He started pounding into her, pushing her up and down, sending sonic waves of pleasure through her. Snow reached up and fisted her hand through his hair, moaning louder with every hard thrust. 

The wall at her sweaty back was cold enough to make her shiver, and Bigby’s hot flesh against her chest was enough to make her sweat.

Bigby’s lips were right at her ear, and she could feel a slow, animalistic sound rumbling deep in his throat. Not a groan. A growl . The hair on his arms was thicker and darker. She could feel his fingernails on his hands that gripped her sharpen. He was holding it back, she could tell, but she could see his wolf side spilling out. She remembered in that moment of ecstasy how Bigby was far less human than he appeared.

“Fuck, Snow,” he growled in her ear through gritted teeth. “Feel so fucking good.”

He was gripping her so tightly, like if he let go for a second she would disappear. He moved deeper and deeper inside her, moving at a frantic pace that was almost hard to keep up with. 

“Bigby,” Snow moaned in his ear. Her nails trailed down his back, the pain pushing him to move faster, harder. “I’m…” He must have been able to tell. He must have been able to feel the way her body clenched around, how wet she was between her thighs, the way her body braced for impact. Bigby grunted as he pounded harder and harder. His fingers dug deeper into her thighs as her hips bucked against his.

It hit both of them at the same time, like a glass bottle chucked against a wall. The heat and hard, pounding pleasure crescendoed in both of them until they were both sweating and moaning and falling apart into each other.

The heat slowly drained from each of their bodies. Bigby slowed his swerving hips to a stop and Snow smoothed her hands up his back to shoulders. She kept her grip on him, her back still to the wall and her feet above the ground. For several moments they held each other's eyes, their breaths ragged and their skin flushed red, neither of them believing what they’d just done. Then, the elevator jolted. The sudden movement made both of them jump, and Bigby gripped Snow harder to keep her from falling to the floor. Snow lowered her feet back to the floor and stood up. She quickly pulled her skirt back on while Bigby swiped his shirt off the floor. They both quickly buttoned themselves back up as the numbers on the elevator beeped down to the first floor. Bigby and Snow both composed themselves, straightening their clothes and hair, just as the elevator hit the first floor. The doors parted to reveal Flycatcher waiting at the front. “Flycatcher,” Snow said. She cleared her throat. “Thank god you came.” “No problem, Miss White,” he said. “I was heading upstairs to mop the hallway and noticed the elevator wasn’t working. Gave it a couple of knocks and somehow it started working again.” “Well, thanks for that,” Bigby said. Snow’s eyes wandered over to him. He looked composed, but she could still see a red tint on his face and a bead of sweat on his temple. “No problem, guys,” Flycatcher said. “I’d avoid the elevator until tomorrow. I’ll call a guy over to inspect it.” “Yes, please do,” Snow said. Flycatcher picked up his bucket and mop and turned in the direction of the stairwell. But before he left, he stopped and eyed back and forth between Bigby and Snow.

"Were you two okay in there?" he asked.

Snow's face went red. She glanced over at Bigby. He tugged at his collar and adjusted his tie.

"Why do you ask?" Snow asked.

"It's just...you both look tired and sweaty."

Flycatcher looked them both up and down. Bigby responded before Snow could think of an excuse.

"Snow and I were working overtime," he said. "You know how it is. And it gets hot in that elevator after a while. The fact that we're still in the middle of the hottest summer on record doesn't help."

Flycatcher nodded.

"Right," he said. "Good thing you two got out in time. No need to die of heatstroke." He started heading down the hall towards the stairs.

"Well, night sheriff. Night, Miss White."

"Goodnight, Flycatcher," Snow said.

When he was gone, Snow turned to Bigby. “I guess…I'll talk to the inspector tomorrow,” she said. “If we don’t address the problem soon, we could get stuck again tomorrow.” A small smirk crossed Bigby’s face. “Would that be such a bad thing?” Now it was Snow’s turn to smirk. Her skin flushed and tingly at the memory of what had passed moments before, and the very unprofessional images of the sheriff flickering in her head.  “I guess we’ll have to find out,” she said.

[footballffbarbiex]

Winter: Snowed In

player: antoine griezmann words: 846 request: Antoine Griezmann - she / her - 500 - 900 - The weather is so bad (so much snow or icy roads) that he can't go in for training so they spent the day inside curled up in blankets and fluffy socks watching Christmas films/playing board games by the light of the Christmas tree and drinking hot chocolate

-

He could easily put on the heating but instead, Antoine makes a theatrical show of it all. Shuffling into the room wearing his sliders, with thick socks pulled up over the bottom of his sweatpants and a snoodie with the hood pulled up over his head, he makes his dramatic appearance.

“It’s cold.” he complains, flopping himself down on the sofa beside her and snuggling into her side.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” Though she’s wearing thick sweatpant style pyjama bottoms and fluffy socks, she’s only in a loose tee-shirt on top. There’s certainly a chill in the air but nothing on the level Antoine is taking it to - but just in case she becomes a little cold later on, another of Antoine’s hoodies lays over the back of the couch within arms reach.

“You know I don’t do well with a temperature drop.” He grumbles, pulling her hand up to his head and pushes it beneath the hoodie hood for some hair fuss. Though he tries to stay upbeat and positive, especially while he’s at work, he does find it harder to remain motivated to do so. Getting out of the warm bed on a morning was harder for him and he’d linger under the shower a little longer than necessary.

On the pitch, he’d be pulling his training kit over his gloved hands and adjusting his head warmer to try and trap as much heat beneath the fabrics he’s wrapped up in. When the first few flakes fell last night, he couldn’t hide the groan even if he’d wanted to. He’d gone to bed cursing the thin layer of snow that had begun to settle and woke up seething to see that several inches had made themselves at home. Though he’d used his head and agreed to have a heated driveway installed during the summer, the rest of the roads weren’t as lucky, resulting in training being cancelled with the promise that day off from the training pitch wouldn’t mean a day off completely.

He’d completed a few hours in the home gym before showering and making his way back to her but he still can’t get himself out of this funk that he’s found himself in.

“Jokes aside though, are you warm enough or do you want me to grab something else for you? I can get you some water for your maté?” he makes a happy hum and tries to snuggle in closer.

“Not yet,” he replies, pulling her hand back to his hair as he makes himself comfortable. “More hair fuss first.”

-

The snow hadn’t eased up as the day went on and between waiting on phone calls to see whether or not the match tomorrow would be called off due to weather concerns, Antoine had pulled out several board games to play while a movie was on in the background. He’d won several rounds, his confidence was at an all time high and he was looking a little too smug for his own good by the time she brings in a chocolatey hot drink to keep the two of you warm.

“Kinda wish you’d gone into training now.”

“That’s mean. Just because you’re losing, there’s no need to be a spoil sport.” he grins as he begins to set the board back up again to start a new game. “Next up is UNO after this game.”

“You’re set on us having a fall out before Christmas I see,” she raises her eyebrow and takes her place on the floor across the coffee table from him.

“Only if I lose, which it’s not looking likely.” he flashes her a grin and moves their counters to the start before offering her the dice. “Want to go first?”

“Uh-huh. Hopefully I’ll put some pressure on you instead of the other way around for once.” she opens her hand out flat, allowing the dice to fall into her palm. “This was supposed to be a light-hearted evening. Get you nice and warm,” she says as she shakes the dice within her hands and drops them onto the board “play some games to take your mind off being cold, maybe get snuggled up together beneath a blanket and -.”

“Netflix and chill?” He looks up at her after mentally adding up her numbers and holds her gaze. If he feels threatened by the 9, he doesn’t show it as he scoops them up, holds out his hands for her to blow onto them for luck and rolls his own. 7.

“Unlucky.” she comments whilst ignoring his suggestion for other ways to warm up. “Even though you’ve kicked my butt, I’ve enjoyed today. And having you home.”

“I know you’re only saying this so I’ll take it easier on you this time.” his eyebrow arches and he reaches for the mug of cocoa.

“And what if I am? Is it working?” She asks, her hand stretching over the table to wipe away his cream moustache.

“You’re cute when you try to bargain. But no, no I won’t.” he laughs, pushing the dice back her way. “Good luck.”

[talkfastromance4]

Frosty the Snowman—Luke&Lily blurb

Based off of this request by @mckenzieclaire :

After Lily’s ballet recital you and Luke found time to take them to the lodge for the first time. It would be the first time they experience snow as well. The kids all had to share a room but they didn’t seem to mind too much. Seeing the wonder on their faces as the snow fell was magic all on its own.

Olly really picked up on the sign for snow, he used his little fingers to flutter down like snowflakes. He had his nose pressed to the glass of the back door watching it fall in flurries and spirals.

“Who wants to go make a snowman?” Luke asks and the girls squeal in excitement with Oliver joining in.

Lily helps Posy get into her snow things while you get Oliver into his. After you’ve dressed in warm clothes and lifted Oliver into your arms, you sway a little, your head spun.

“Woah, you blink quickly and Luke looks up from his gloved hand.

“You okay, lovie?”

“Yeah, I think I moved too fast,” you smile, “just a head rush.”

“Okay…”

“Come on, we need to make Frosty.”

You all have fun in the snow, Oliver helps the best he can otherwise he just sits in the snow playing with it. Once the snowman is made, you place Lily, Posy, and Oliver around the snow figure and take pictures of them. You captured cute photos of them smiling and when Oliver takes a bite out of Frosty’s side.

Then, all five of you gather together, Oliver on your hip and Luke takes a photo getting all of you in frame thanks to his long arms. To warm up, you all go for a swim in the pool that is now heated because Luke made a call to get it done.

You eat dinner and watch a ‘Happy Feet’ but the kids fall asleep within twenty minutes. Lily is pressed against Luke, Posy is asleep against you and Olly is asleep on your chest. You’re rubbing at his back gazing at his peaceful sleeping face. Luke reaches over to rub the back of your head. You turn to him.

“Bedtime?” he asks quietly, his eyes shifting to each child.

“Yeah.”

Luke somehow manages to carry both Lily and Posy in his arms. They rouse awake only to say goodnight but are asleep in seconds as soon as you leave the room.

Luke put his glasses on and reads on his phone while you’re in the bathroom washing up. You feel dizzy again holding onto the edge of the sink until your vision focuses back to normal. You take a deep breath then exit the bedroom slipping under the warm blankets next to Luke.

“This should be our Christmas card this year,” Luke shows you his phone once you’re settled. It’s the photo of the kids and Frosty, the one with Oliver taking a chomp out of him and then of the whole family. He created it on an app.

“Christmas is in two weeks, honey,” you chuckle. “I love the photos though, maybe we can just make it a social media card this year? I want these framed.”

“That’s a good idea, I’ll post it tomorrow and send one to my mum in a text so she can save it. I’m glad we were able to bring the kids here.”

“Me too,” you sigh resting your head on his shoulder, “We all needed a little getaway. Olly loves the snow.”

“Yeah, he’s been signing ‘snow’ all day,” Luke smiles.

“He’s been making more noises…hopefully he’ll say his first word soon.”

“It’ll probably be snow.”

The two of you laugh then Luke puts his phone and glasses on the nightstand. He rubs at his eyes, yawning.

“Time for bed, Mr. Hemmings,” you kiss his cheek and he kisses your temple.

“I always sleep so well out here,” he shuts off the light and you cuddle into him. “It’s so quiet here.”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. The sound of his heart beating lulls you to sleep.

You dream of Frosty coming to life, he gives you a magic snowball that glows and when you look into it, a baby is crying with outstretched arms. Your eyes flash open, your dream still lingering in your mind and you try to hold onto it but you actually hear crying.

It’s Oliver.

The dream has disappeared from your memory by the time you reach Oliver.

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott

[lale-txt]

"could you promise me one thing?" w/ Law & gn!reader

a/n: requested by dear @lawscorazon <3 okay, originally i had planned this prompt with my man Rayleigh, but somehow Law spoke to me and you were one of the few (like... two) people who requested an angst prompt, so i just had to take it. i always enjoy writing Law and i hope you enjoy reading this!

word count: 770

So this is goodbye.

Tomorrow the log pose will guide him his way to another island, to another adventure, one which you weren’t a part of. That’s how it always was. They came and stayed for a while, seeking the warmth of your arms and your open mouth, until they were gone in the morning again; some left a little note, some their wedding rings, some left nothing but the lingering feeling of being forgotten, of turning slowly into a ghost in your own house. They always took pieces of your wounded heart with them.

You wondered if they kept them somewhere safe or if they threw them overboard once they got too heavy. Probably the later.

But as long as the sun didn’t rise yet, you could still dream, right? Just a little longer with this one until he, too, will vanish and leave nothing but another notch in the bedpost? Your eyes rest on the sleeping body next to you in the dark, his chest heaving slowly up and down as you trace his tattoos with your fingertips. You want to crawl into those arms that held you so tight a few hours prior, want to melt under his touch again, the first time you felt warmth in a very long time.

With Law, it was different. With him, you had the feeling of someone seeing you for who you were, seeing you as someone that was more than just a body, more than a promising night in a bar, more than red scratches on skin that will fade just like the memory of yours. His golden eyes had lingered on you for the longest time, taking all of you in. It had almost made you cry. It was as if he recognized that sadness in your glance. As if you were the same two hearts, beating erratic and full of hope, despite everything.

You scoot closer to him, craving skin on skin contact, the warmth of another body and the illusion of safety that came with it; of being home in a stranger's arms. Except Law didn’t feel like a stranger anymore. He never did. You had only known each other since a few days and he didn’t talk much about himself, yet there was a familiarity in the way he spoke with you, how your shoulders brushed when you sat next to each other, watching the falling snow outside, how easy your hand slipped into his and how he didn’t let go. He never let go.

With your head resting against his shoulder you close your eyes, listening to the sound of his steady breaths. Just lying next to him was hurtful, your heart already wailing out in pain, knowing it will shatter into a thousand pieces again tomorrow morning. You know that if you open your eyes, tears will run down your face and won’t stop for a very long time. Maybe that was the prize you pay for getting a taste of what love was like.

“Could you promise me one thing?”, you whisper into the dark, scarcely audible, your breath a mere shudder. “Don’t fall in love with someone else. Don’t forget about me, oh please, don’t forget about me. Remember these days we had, remember how my lips felt on yours, how we felt indestructible. And maybe find me again after you’ve seen the end of the world. I’ll be waiting here for you. Your heart for mine.”

The words were falling out of your mouth and you let them, otherwise you’ll probably choke on them. You cover your eyes with one hand, unable to hold the tears back in, trying to cry as quietly as you can to not wake him up. Nothing could have prepared you for this kind of hurt. Was it your own fault for laying out your heart in his bare palms, begging him to love you? Was it wrong to crave a home, a place to rest these tired bones of yours? How much forgiveness do you have to offer to yourself?

You crawl out of bed, attempting to escape to the bathroom to sob alone, when his hand grabs you by your wrist, holding you back. Tears fall down your face; you’re caught by surprise and forget to sniffle for a second. How long has he been awake? Did he hear everything? The thought alone made your head spin and your heart tremble. You don’t dare to move. Maybe he was just dreaming? But his voice is raspy when he speaks, four words that make you wonder if it was you dreaming.

“Your heart for mine.”

[arknights-imagines]

waahh hi i love ur writing!! can i request an affectionate doctor having a sweet kissing session with executor + silverash? i just wanna give them a lot of affection and make them feel always loved 😭

Anon hiya!! 🥳 Tysm for this request sgsugshs it's so cute and I love it!! 😭🥺 Executor and SilverAsh are some of my favourites to write for sgsugshs 💕 I tried to make it as soft and lovey-dovey as I could so I hope you and everyone else likes it 👉👈

Also, because Executor's Birthday was July 7th I gave him some extra love in his part svshsv!! 🎂🥳 He deserves a break lolol 🥺 so Happy (late) Birthday Executor and happy reading to everyone!! 🥺🥳

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Kissing sessions with Executor and SilverAsh

Imagine format; mixed perspectives! (written in second person)

Contains: SilverAsh, Executor, gender neutral Doctor as the reader, brief mentions of background characters, established relationships, kissing described in detail, lots of soft fluffiness 🥺, barely suggestive material in SilverAsh's part?? 🤔, Executor being hesitant and unsure in his part, reader/Doctor being very soft in both parts svjsgshs

Word count: 2.7k in total!

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SILVERASH

“My dear...you’re still working?”

SilverAsh’s eyes had just read the last sentence of the novel in his hand, and now they looked at you with surprise. He had expected you to have lied down in your small bed with him by the time he closed his book - but as it turned out, you were still sat at your desk nearby and going through papers.

The Feline’s voice interrupting your work caused you to blink slowly, and then you turned your attention towards him, expression meek. “You’re awake? I thought you went to sleep…” “And I thought you would be away from your desk by now.” His reply came with a lift of the brow. SilverAsh set his book beside him before propping himself up on his forearm as you sighed, “I’m almost done, I’ll come to bed soon.”

Unconvinced, the Guard Operator stood from the bed, his height allowing him to make his way towards your desk in just a few strides. You had already picked your pen back up and returned to your papers by the time he set his hands on your shoulders - his touch gentle, but firm.

Before you could shoo him away, SilverAsh lowered his lips to your ear - his snow-coloured hair tickled your cheek and his breath was warm as he spoke in a low, smooth tone that met your ears like melted chocolate, “I must say, my dear…” He met your gaze from the corner of your eye before he continued, “I’ve stayed with you this entire evening, and yet I still find myself longing for you.”

When his gaze met yours, his eyes were warm and serious despite the playful lift of his brow. A quiet apology came from you in reply, one of your hands lifting to rub at your heavy eyelids. Humming in acknowledgment, the Feline’s hands left you momentarily in order to spin your desk chair around before they returned to your shoulders - this time his fingers slid down your arms and took your hands in his own.

You had expected him to gently usher you to bed, but what came instead made your eyes grow wide. In a few swift movements, SilverAsh took your place on your desk chair and pulled you to sit in his lap. A small chuckle left him as your eyes searched for his, surprise on your face; when his name left your lips in question, the Guard Operator tilted his head to the side in fake confusion. “Hah...that surprised look on your face, you amuse me so my dear.” His hands came to hold your waist, “You’re tense. Relax for me...after all, no one is better suited to bring you ease than me, isn't that right?”

His eyes were locked with yours, and with every word he whispered to you, he moved his lips closer to yours. He held this sincere warmth that was meant only for you in his gaze; when you looked carefully enough, a glimmer of desire was there as well. Despite that, SilverAsh patiently waited for your reply, his eyes flicking to your lips for a split second or two in order to silently communicate what he wanted from you.

His affectionate gaze caused some of the tension to fade from your body, and you sighed softly; your voice was almost inaudible when you replied, “That’s right, Enciodas.” There was only a sliver of space left between the both of you - you felt him smile before he muttered, “Very good…”

SilverAsh had been moving so slowly, and yet when his lips finally met yours it was as if all his patience left him; his head tilted in order to kiss you deeper and one of his hands drifted up from your waist to cup your jawline. The air around the both of you became warm, and so you practically melted into him. A few seconds into the kiss, your senses were null - but then it all comes rushing towards you.

Your papers are long forgotten when you lifted your hands from his chest to his hair. SilverAsh hummed gently against your lips as your fingers began combing through the fluffy locks - and when your touch grazed his snow leopard ears they twitched slightly, much to your amusement. You thought about taking a second to comment on it, but the Guard Operator didn't seem to want you to pull away, and so the thought faded quickly.

The Feline’s touch attracted all your focus, it’s so warm it's almost burning - or perhaps you were just flustered because of the close proximity, in all honesty, you were far too distracted by the kiss to tell the difference - and on his lips was the cool taste of peppermint. It was a stark contrast, the mix of hot and cold was so distinctive that you were sure you’d be thinking about it later on; though it was unbeknownst to you, SilverAsh certainly hoped so.

As the kiss came to a close both of you stilled, wordlessly taking in every detail of each other.

For someone who everyone said was ruthless and shrewd, SilverAsh encompassed so much tenderness in moments like these. When it came to you, his hands were so gentle, his voice was so soft, and his gaze was so warm; but no one else would ever be able to understand that side of him, because he reserved it for you and you only.

“E-Enciodas…” When the two of you finally broke away from each other, his name fell from your lips breathlessly. Taking his hand from your waist, he gently ran it up and down your back, “There you are, my dear. Ease up for me.” His soft gaze met yours, and a smile painted his lips when he noticed the rosy blush on your cheeks - you weren't expecting him to act so bold all of a sudden, but you had no complaints. Your head dropped to his shoulder, and he sighed in content as an easing warmth came over his own body. You were always so warm, so soft - he didn't want to ever let go of you.

The kiss had rendered the two of you a little speechless, and so for a while you both sat in serene silence. SilverAsh’s voice cut into the quietness softly after some time, “I apologize, it seems I was rather touch-starved and couldn't handle myself.” You shifted a little in his lap, but didn't say anything in reply. Lifting a brow, the Feline tilted his head in order to whisper into your ear - then your soft snoring met his ears.

He blinked, then a light chuckle came from his lips; you were fast asleep. Well, you had been working all day, so the Guard Operator was glad you were finally resting. If SilverAsh had known a kiss was all it took for you to relax, he would’ve had you asleep hours ago. That was alright, now he knew for next time.

Involuntarily, a grin came to his face as he shut his eyes and let his head rest against yours. Your lips had left a lingering warmth on his own; a warmth that the Feline found comforting, and maybe a little too pleasant. His smile grew - yes, SilverAsh was sure ‘next time’ would be happening quite soon.

EXECUTOR

You really couldn't thank Executor enough for allowing you to come along with him for his mission back at his home country - Laterano was truly breathtaking, from the architecture to the way all the citizens dressed. Considering your position as Rhodes Island’s tactical leader, you understood that accompanying Operators on their missions was a little dangerous and maybe not always necessary, but you had wanted to spend more time with the Sankta so he complied. After all, he could protect you if anything were to go wrong.

The view outside the window you were currently standing before almost felt like a dream. You understood that there was work to be done, and that Executor only agreed to stop at a hotel room because he knew you were both tired from talking around and trying to find intel pertaining to the mission but still - taking the time to relax couldn't hurt.

By the time you both settled into the hotel room, the sun had just begun to set; Executor had explained that it was going to be an uneventful evening, mostly just paperwork and going through flies.

“Doctor,” As cool and steady as always, Executor’s voice cut into your silence - your rapt attention went to him as he approached you, moving into your peripheral vision, “You should take this time to rest. Our work tomorrow begins very early in the morning, and I do not know when we will be able to have a break.” As you turned to face him an appreciative smile came to your lips, “You should rest too, Executor.” A shake of the head came in reply, which wasn't much of a surprise; “Do not worry about me. The Notarial Hall has requested that I complete multiple reports about the work we accomplished today, so I have no room to rest for very long.”

Your smile fell slightly. He had more work to do on top of what had already been assigned to him by Amiya? The Sankta before you took note of your mood shift right away; eyes thoughtful, he blinked for a second then spoke once more in a softer tone, “...However, if you wish for me to take some time to rest with you, then very well.” A little sheepishly, you looked off to the side before admitting that you were concerned with all the work he was deluging himself with. A bit of warmth broke onto Executor’s usually calm, unreadable facial expression as he began to remove his distinctive uniform coat; “I appreciate that. I do not want to cause you to worry over my wellbeing, so I will take some time to rest.”

Pleased, your grin returned - wider this time. The Sniper Operator’s demeanor grew warmer at your visible content. Quiet, he joined you in staring out at the sunset beyond the hotel room window. The air around you two was quiet, serene; but something was pulling on inside your chest, wanting to move closer to Executor. And so, your hand found his, and ever-so-slowly you laced your fingers together. Under your unexpected touch, the Sankta stiffened by a hair. He read something on your face, something that caused him to drop the formalities and call you by the nickname he had started getting used to addressing you as, “Hm...yes, love?”

Too focused on how your hand felt in his, you didn't reply. Instead, you turned to meet his gaze with a soft smile on your lips; a few emotions you couldn't distinguish flashed behind Executor’s eyes for but a split second at the affectionate expression on your face, before the coolness in the blue of his gaze melted into warmth.

His eyebrows furrowed together slightly as he stared back at you, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finding his words, “...Please excuse me, I… I cannot read your expression.” Emotions weren’t the Sankta’s strong-suit in any sense, but considering how understanding you had always been towards him, he wasn’t afraid to admit so. Voice just above a whisper, you assured him it was alright and let him know he could come a little closer. His hand remained in yours as he did so, shoulders tight and posture a little tense while his free hand hovered a little awkwardly at your side; you chimed with a light laugh at his behaviour, “It’s okay, you can touch me Executor.”

Executor was a little uncertain, but after a few seconds his hand settled comfortably on your waist and the other squeezed your hand ever-so-gently. Then he admitted to you quietly, “I am unsure on where to put my hands.” You shook your head, “This is perfect, don't worry.” The space between the both of you was barely a sliver as you leaned closer to him, expression still full of affection; his eyes flicked down to your lips, and yours glanced at his. Facial cues were something the Sniper Operator failed to understand, but the warmth balling itself in his chest told him to pull you closer. His mind told him that this wasn't appropriate, that his focus should be on his mission and his work, not on you; but the tugging in both his chest and yours was so intense that there was no use pulling back now.

And so, the Sankta finally broke the silence. “Love?” He paused, debating on whether or not he should speak, before mumbling his words against your mouth slowly, “May I kiss you?” He didn't have to ask - you replied in a small nod and Executor wasted no time closing the space between your lips and his own.

Gentle, careful; those weren’t words the others at Rhodes Island would associate Executor with, and yet that was all that ran through your mind when his lips captured yours. And his lips, they tasted sweet; as if he had just eaten a slice of cake or a spoonful of sugar. It was so stark considering how cold and stoic he appeared, but you couldn’t help but adore it. It was almost poetic - maybe you were the only one who would be able to witness and receive this sweetness from the Sankta.

He leaned into your touch when your hand came to cradle his cheek, and his arm slipped around your waist in order to pull you closer - so close that he was certain you could feel his heartbeat against your chest. But that was what he wanted and you allowed him to do so. Your fingers began running through his hair, pushing the white strands away from his face. Executor almost melting. The Sankta’s usual mechanic mind completely malfunctioned at both your close proximity and touch; every gear jammed and every cog stopped turning.

For Executor, this was so utterly odd. On the battlefield, the Sniper Operator was anything but hesitant; when his gun was in his hands, he knew exactly what to do. But with you - when it was you in his hands, his mind was overcome with uncertainty and all his thoughts became incoherent, all because of you. It always made his chest fill with warmth, it always made his stomach flutter, it always made his heart beat too fast, and yet it always felt so right.

When the Sankta ran out of air, he broke away gently; his eyes slipped open to meet your own as he rested his face in your palm. Your voice was soft against his lips, “Are you okay?” Giving you the softest expression, he unwrapped his arm from your waist so he could hold your hand to his cheek, “Yes love...thank you. This may not make any sense to you, but I feel almost energetic now.” A small chuckle came from you in reply. “You’re welcome, Executor. If you’re feeling so eager, we can get back to work in...just a minute.” Though you said that, you didn't seem to be interested in pulling away, and in all honesty neither was he. Yes, his mission was important; but surely taking a second more to rest with you was okay.

Executor’s gaze observed both you and the surrounding room carefully. You were looking back at him with eyes full of adoration and the most effusive grin, the sun through the window almost caused the rosy flush on your face to glow and was surely glinting off his halo and wings, the sunset-painted room was full of warmth that embraced him like a freshly washed blanket - his heart grew a little more with every detail he took note of.

The Sankta returned back to reality when your head fell on his shoulder and you whispered out a small, sincere confession - “I love you Executor.” His heart leapt and his breath hitched at the three words despite you having said them to him multiple times by then, and as always, he let one of his rare smiles grace his lips and replied right away, not missing a beat: “And I love you - more than I am able to describe.”

Honestly, though he tried as best he could, Executor wasn't sure if those words adequately expressed how thankful he was for you, how much he adored the way the feel of your shared kiss was still on his lips, how badly he wished to hold you and never pull away - but he supposed, if anything, it was enough.

[saturnsstufff]

The Empress (pt.IV)

Mmm. Blood for blood god, yes?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, poison, death, swearing

   The palace was a bit busier after the evening you announced your new employment. After the servants herd there would be a trip, they were mostly preparing for Techno’s, and Phil’s leave. Two days weren't much to you, but to Techno and Phil? They were busy days. Techno ended up stealing Phil from your side during those days, so instead you spent your time with Wilbur. 

   Wilbur was a brilliant child. For being twelve he already had a large understanding of how their kingdom worked. Not only that, but when questioned he could also tell you about other countries and nations. He didn't play up his intelligent, but he also didn't dismiss what he knew.

   Tomorrow was the day that Techno, Phil and you had planned to leave on. Phil did walk you to breakfast that morning, but Techno and Phil didn't waist time eating. They mostly hurried through, leaving little room for conversation, then left to Techno’s study. Leaving you and Wil alone for the day again. You didn't mind that though, yesterday you spent your time lingering over his shoulder well he did his studies. The studies, though sounding boring at first were actually pretty interesting. You had a education, however, the one you received was very basic. You were taught to read, write, and even shown basic math, but beyond that you weren't pressured to learn more. No one in your village was. This wasn't because your village viewed education less to survival. But mostly because your village was tiny, there were no great scholars. Most children were taught by there parents, like you, your mother taught you everything. Where Wilbur, at twelve was learning about different potion ingredients and there properties. You at the same age had just finished basic fractions. But that was ok, education wasn't something to compare, everyone learns differently and at different speeds.

   Well you maneuvered around the casual tables, bookshelves and sofas, he responded. “Oh! well, you see, Phil wants all of his kids to be respectful, especially to women” you nodded, ’most parents prefer that.’ you mused to yourself. The two of you walked through the library to a room in the back. This is where Wil did his studies. It was just a private room, mostly made so no one could disturb the individual reading inside. “Our mother, she was really kind- you would have liked her- and her most defiantly would have liked you” He was just loosely rambling off, but it was adorable, he had a bright smile. Well you listened, something told you, not many people sat and talked with him. “When Phil met our mother he always told us of how poor her home life was, she wasn't treated very nicely, you see.” Wil took the door to the study and opened it for you two. Both of you moseying inside, side by side. When you two found the sofa you sat down easy, mostly having to readjust after. Unlike you Wil half threw himself onto it with a little squeak of the cushion. “When Dad found out mother was carrying me, he quickly took her away from her home. Anytime he mentioned her parents you could have sworn he wanted to kill them. Dadza doesn't get mad, but when he does... it’s not exactly pleasant.” Wil had swallowed a bit thickly at that last comment. Letting it linger in the air.

   You walked with Wil towards the Library, the hall’s were a tad chillier due to the fact the sun wasn't out today. In its place was just grey clouds, offering more snow to the already maxed out ice cube you stood on. When you took the handle to open the door for Wil, he took it from your hand quickly. After grabbing it, he stumbled into profusely apologizing for his spur of the moment behavior.

“So sorry (y/n), it’s just, if Dadza caught me slacking on my manners... He wouldn't be too pleased.” You tilted your head slightly as he opened the door fully. Exposing the Ancient Book lined walls. The stale smell of paper, parchment, and the occasional ink hit you. The library was rather large, but then again, most things within this palace tended to be. The library did have a warmth to it, and a welcoming feeling. The type where if your not careful, you could get lost inside for hours at a time. In the corner rested a larger than normal fireplace, The attached Chimney ran to the celling, lined With thick Rocks and stones. The crackling and popping of the wood burning within was a very comforting white noise.

   “this might seem off, but, what manners?” they way you said it may have sounded wrong, but you meant it in the best way you could. Or more the less for him to expand on the manners he was talking about.

   “I'm not sure if I can ask, but, Techno looks older than you, did... He live with your mother when she was with her parents?” Wil shifted to face you a bit more. Putting his heel up on his knee. well he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, he moved his head to rest in his hand. 

    “No, Techno was adopted. When dad was in the Nether he raided a lost fortress. from what he explained, there was just a toddler roaming around.” Your heart clenched slightly, you couldn't imagine leaving a toddler alone, none the less in a place like the nether. you have never been there, but the stories you’ve herd were enough to tell you the danger. “Since he’s a hybrid of a Piglin Brute and human, none of the other Piglins would touch him. So Dadza did, as Dadza does. he took him home.”

   You thought back on this a moment. Techno had a godlike amount of strength, not to mention how tall he was. Of course he was a Hybrid. You felt a bit stupid now for not picking it up. “Just, don't tell Techno I told you, he doesn't like his name being discussed behind his back” You nodded. Wilbur’s face grew into a smile. “This can be our secret” you nodded and smiled back.

   “our secret” The more you talked to Wil, you discovered he was a lot like Philza. The two had the most contagious smile you’d ever seen. The only difference you assumed was he had his mother's features. Phil had bright keen blue eyes, well Wilbur had deep beautiful brown eyes. Another difference was there facial structure. You two were quiet a moment before you spoke up. You had been curious of where their mother was, there were paintings of her. But she was no where around. The way Wil talked about her made you assume she had passed. “what happened to your mother?”

   Wilbur’s eyes saddened briefly before he- what you assumed- forced himself to contain. “Oh, well... Phil and Mom had a dinner one night with some other world leaders.” he paused a bit rubbing his neck. “It was supposed to be peaceful. but someone from the German Empire didn't want us to be allies. so he poisoned our mother’s food.” He started slowing down with the story as he went on. “Like you said with your father (y/n), you were too young to understand? That's how it was for me. I was only four. I didn't understand why Techno and Dad were so angry.” he wiped his eyes as they welled up, one eye let a tear fall. “They didn't keep me in the room long. As soon as mom started choking, they started yelling. One of our allies’, his wife, had taken me out of the room before it had escalated any further.”

   Your heart fell heavy, a pit forming in your stomach. you couldn't empathize with loosing a parent. especially at such a young age like that. You could easily tell Wil wasn't over his mothers death. The way he looked at the ground with such hurt, it genuinely pained you so see the happy boy like this. You moved yourself closer to his side and hugged him tightly, showing him the reassurance he needed. You didn't respond for a little bit. letting Wil express what emotions he had possibly bottled up. After a bit when you felt him pull back, you just kept your arm around his shoulder. You weren't his family. but you hoped that for what company you offered, it made him feel at least a bit better. “I'm sorry Wilbur…” was all you could muster. The atmosphere weighed heavier now. With the sadness of pressed memories lingering, the two of you didn't talk. instead you simply sat in silence.

   “So what’s France like?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your mashed potatoes.

   By dinner that evening Wilbur and you had already promised each other that you wouldn't speak of what happened in the studies. He didn't want Techno on his back for opening up, or that he also cried a bit. You were ok with keeping it between you two, Wilbur had confided in you something very personal, the least you could do was respect his wishes.

   Dinner had gone by smoothly, the chatter between Wilbur and you had picked up quite a lot. You could tell this made Phil happy to see the two of you getting along. Especially since you now technically live with them. When you first arrived to the palace, dinner’s were kind of awkward, since only Phil and you really talked. But now it seemed that Techno was the only one that wouldn't partake in the conversations. He would put a word or two in. But mostly dinners were spent with Wil and you talking about whatever came to mind.

   Wil was hurrying to swallow to try and respond. “Oh! you’d love it there (y/n)!” Phil slightly chuckled at Wil. “Its really scenic!” Before Wil could ramble off about France and it’s perks, Phil had chimed in.

   “It is a beautiful place, but were not going to any specific places. were only going to the countryside's. We know that much” Wil and you cocked your head’s slightly. ‘what’s out in the country side?’ You mentally questioned, but Wil instead asked it aloud.

   “Not that the countryside isn't beautiful- why not stop by the towns?” Wil questioned, his brow furrowed. waving his fork between Techno and Phil for his answer.

   “The cities don't have what I need” Techno said plainly, at that Wilbur shot back with a remark.

   “mmn, like a girlfriend?” you couldn't help but laugh at the way Techno turned to face Wilbur. Since he still eats with his mask. you could only see his lips, to which Techno made a ‘heh?’ before he compiled his answer fully.

   “Keep it up I’ll take you to France and punt you out of my plane.” Phil laughed with you on that one. Although Techno was pretty stoic and monotone, over the last couple of days lately he’s been showing more of his ‘Brotherly love’ as Phil call’s it. you had a feeling that Techno and Phil were going to miss Wilbur during there trip. or, at least you would for sure. After Wilbur laughed a bit he got serious again.

   “But really, what are you looking for. there’s not many things in the countryside besides the occasional mansion or farm. Kind of boring if you ask me” Techno hummed in response. Appearing like he was aware of what was in the country already. Since Wil couldn't work a answer out of Techno he simply dropped the subject, viewing it no longer worth the push. Instead he started back on his steak, Phil picking up the conversation.

   “Those new clothes should be in your room tonight, (y/n)” you looked up and swallowed your mouthful. nodding before you answered.

“mhn! oh! right, thank you again for them. Are you sure my old pair wouldn't cut it? I’d hate to ruin a new pair of clothes on a side trip” Phil waved his hand in response, as if waving away your worry.

   “awh, I wouldn't worry to much on it. Besides, now that you work for us, you have to be official n’ shit” He grinned at you. “Besides, your clothes were nice for your village, but France and Russia have a bit different climates.” You nodded casually. The idea of visiting new places had you a bit giddy. Yes, you missed your home, but being with the royal family so far has been utterly pleasant.

   “do you have a certain time you would like to leave?” you questioned, your eyes dancing between Techno and Phil for your answer. Techno didn't look up from his food, expecting Phil to answer for him.

   “we’ll probably just end up sending a servant to wake you up. We don't have a specific time yet, but we know it will probably be early. Mostly so we can reach land on time. Techno has the map’s ready for tomorrow with the stops marked. fuel n’ stuff will probably draw us back time wise.” Phil poked at his food well he talked, moving a bit of the food to a nice size bite. “We don't have a designated time we have to return. But we also don't want to be gone from the palace long.” you tilted your head a bit, looking to Phil.

   “why don't you want to be gone long?” You assumed it was because they liked being in the comfort of their own home, but you also had a feeling it was something beyond that. Phil’s brow had came together in a bit of... frustration? 

   “we cant be gone long because the Governor's get antsy..." this was the first time you herd Phil's voice drop. It wasn't his casual light hearted tone, instead it was replaced with a deep, meaningful, yet precise tone. He knew what he wanted to say, and he knew exactly what he had to say. "We can't take Wilbur with us since he’s too young. It's also best to have someone to look over the palace in our absence."

   You set your fork down as you finished your plate. Mimicking how techno piled his plates. "Why do they get antsy?" You couldn't help your curiosity on this matter. ‘Did the Governor's not like them gone?’

   "Because they feel Wilbur is more fit to Rule. It's utter bullshit" Phil had a lot of pressed emotion on that topic. You could tell just from how he now handled and moved his fork. Usually he had a easy grip, loose moving it about his plate. But now his knuckles were a tad white, and his grip was much more secure. "Don't mistake my words, Wilbur could rule. He'd be a bloody brilliant king too. But Techno is my oldest son. The crown falls to him. Plain and simple. But They think, that because Techno isn't my blood, that it doesn't count." His words started becoming sharper and more hateful. He dropped his fork on his plate at this point out of anger. Even Techno who never moves his head much, Or talk for that matter, had moved his head to face Phil. Techno addressed his father.

   "Dadza..." you were a bit shocked, his tone wasn't as monotone. His voice showed his concern, or maybe his understanding. Phil only looked at his plate before he looked up with a breath.

   "I cant leave Wil because they pressure him. They pressure him into the thought of marriage with his best friend, into dethroning techno, last time the fucker's brought up killin’ tech and I" Phil leaned back in his chair a bit.

   Phil sighed again. Looking up at Wilbur with kind eyes, the hate from his previous thoughts wiped free. "I hate leaving him with that much pressure. He's only twelve".

   After the dinner everyone slowly retired to their rooms. Techno had stolen Phil again for some last minute run by plans, so in his stead Wilbur walked you to your room. You both didn't Talk long however, you both were aware that you would be up early the next day. Oh yeah, you were definitely up early. The sun hadn't rose yet and you were already being shaken awake by one of the maids. Telling you that Techno and Phil were patiently waiting. you hurried to change not wanting to leave them waiting any longer. 

   When you saw them in the hall you had just thrown your cloak and cape over your shoulders. The new attire Phil had made for you was just mostly more layers. This way if you got warm you could shed a few, or vise versa when you were cold.

   “I'm so sorry I kept you waiting-” you stopped mid sentence you couldn't believe what you saw. If anyone could have seen your face, they may have assumed you had witnessed a murder for the way your jaw hung open.

   There stood Techno in front of you, Phil by his side. But that's not what had your mouth open. Techno’s mask was long discarded, and by the gods was he good looking. Maybe not in the typical sense of beauty standards, but to you he was ethereal. He had scars, yes, but that only added to him. Maybe if he didn't have the scars he would have blown the beauty standard of Handsome, but speaking for yourself you prefer him with the scars. You definitely prefer the scars. There was a small scar over his lip. Then one larger one across his brow bone that dragged down to his cheek. From how the larger one appeared, you could only assume how long it took for it to heal. His eyes were delicate, but they danced ablaze. they were brown, but almost borderline red tinted. Without his mask you could see that he had a rather soft, natural appearance. He was young, younger than you assumed. He looked only about seventeen. The way he was dressed made him look like a casual, young gentleman you would have found on the street. you almost couldn't believe he was the feared Emperor. He must have noticed your lingering eyes, because his lips moved into the ever slightest bemused smirk. When you saw his expression you couldn't help the heat that flushed your cheeks. Worst of all is you could feel your heated cheeks, and that just made you redder from embarrassment. If this was how the trip was going to start, you were in for a long bumpy ride.

   “Hello, princess” was all he said. He was purposefully poking at you now. He just learned he had a big effect on you, and oh boy was he ready to torment you with it. You could only avert your eyes, you had nothing to say against that. You didn't even know where to begin with it all. it took you a moment to process. Phil still stood beside Techno, his hand rubbed at his mouth a bit to muffle the chuckle he had.

   “w...where’s your skull?... a-aren’t you traveling with it?” oh great, yeah your voice definitely, wasn't taking your side on trying to compose yourself. Techno hummed, he was really amused now.

   “Hm? Here I thought you would have preferred this... what a shame, I even shaved.” techno ran his large but delicate hand over his jaw and neck, the rings on his fingers stuck out against his skin. Phil laughed vocally now. The little shit was enjoying this. techno adjusted his stance and crossed his arms. He just held a bemused smirk, oh you so wished nothing more than to rub it off. You didn't care if he was a royal, if you thought you could take him, you would have.

   “Ok techno, that's enough, don't want her too red now. she might try and off ya’” Oh don't worry Phil you already thought about it. “don't worry about making us wait either kiddo, we had to get a few things ready anyway” you looked up at Phil as your cheeks finally started to return to normal.

   “What were you getting?” you inquired, your brows slightly furrowed.

   “This” Techno said, offering a sheath to you. You looked up to him and back down to it. It was a sword, not the one you made, but a different one. “We cant have you defenseless on your trip with us” You hesitated. you knew this was the wrong time to admit that you didn't know how to fight with a sword. You gently took it, parting the blade from its sheath to look it over. It was well made that's for sure, basic Iron, but still strong.

   “Your Imperial Majesty...” you were thankful for the sword but, again. you didn't know how to use it. you made them, but you were never taught on how to use one. Your mother forbid it, saying that you already took a man’s trade, there was no need for you to dirty yourself further down the path. “I... I cant...” Techno’s brow lifted in question. “I... d-don't know how to use it...” You felt shame take over you. Fully prepared for them to laugh at you. Instead Phil offered you a slightly surprised look. Techno only made a ‘Heh?’.

   “You don't know how to use a sword?” you could only shake your head, looking down slowly. Phil placed his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, moving his head down so he could face you. “Hey... Hey, your ok... Tell ya’ what. Well were out on the trip, we’ll show you ok? It’s still good to carry a sword, just incase things go side-ways. But I promise we’ll make sure you don't have to use it then, ok?” you nodded slowly.

   “O-ok, I'm still sorry...” Phil only shook his head, explaining you had nothing to be sorry for. He gently took the sword from you and put it back in it’s case. He told you to lift your arm’s, so that's what you did. He easily maneuvered the belt around your waist and secured the sword your hip. Almost like he would have done to his own kids. The weight of it would have to be something to get used to, but you were thankful that they were not mad or disappointed in you.

   The three of you walked to where all the planes were kept. this is where Phil offered you a choice. “Would you like to ride with Techno or I?” Oh, so you had to pick. You gave them a brief blank look. 

   “I figured I would be riding with you, Phil” You did assume you were just going to ride with him, but you also didnt want to be with techno if he was strickly in a teasing mood. Phil only smiled and nodded. 

   “Alright’ lets get going then” was all he said. Techno walked passed you and Phil. Making his way over to his plane, there was a heavier cloak waiting on the wing. Techno’s plane was different from the other ones, not physically. His had a crown on the side along with the signa, probably to shownit was the Rulers. He effortlessly threw the heavy cloak over his shoulder and stepped up on the wing. His arm reaching out to pull himself up. jumping into the cockpit easily.

   Phil handed you a similar cloak. “it’s colder right now due to the sun being down. you will definitely want this.” you nodded and took it with a ‘thank you’. well you put it on Phil had stepped up onto the wing. pulling his cloak on. He offered his hand down again like he did the last time you flew. His wings were spread out behind him, enjoying the freedom they had before they would be confined. when you took his hand he pulled you up effortlessly. letting you steady yourself before he lifted you up to the cockpit, assisting you in. when you were all situated the planes roared to life. Techno faced Phil and sent a nod. A wordless que. Phil sent a nod back before they both started moving together. Soon before you knew it, you were back in the air heading home.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave

[unwrittenlibrary]

Tee’s Summer Reads 🖤

hi all! as summer comes to a close and classes start back up again, i wanted to come on here and share some pieces i read over break that i just loved.

as always, heed to any and all warnings each creator has put in place. eighteen plus spaces deserve respect and you are urged to show them it.

— ➶ —

Bucky Barnes

i wished one the moon for you by @sunmoonandbucky • “After losing Bucky, you were devastated. So when Howard Stark asks for volunteers for an experiment, you're the first in line.” -> 40s buck & present bucky? love that lasts through time? love it

the shot heard round the tower & unwarranted weakness by @pellucid-constellations • “you just want to know if bucky has feelings for you. bucky just wants you to be okay.” -> these two pieces can be read separately, but i highly suggest reading them both because bucky is written so well and they made me feel warm all over. 

see the world the way you do by @vanderlustwords • “you start to see color when you meet your soulmate. bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing.” -> there are So many lines in this that just... sit with you. i felt so much reading this. that tight feeling in your chest, pure happiness, anger... i just absolutely loved this. 

a little old fashioned by @gogolucky13 • “bucky is a bit subtle in telling you he likes you.”-> behold...sweet, shy comfort fic bucky. i go back and read this when i’m sad. 

he’s a good friend by @markandlexies • “reader is tired of watching bucky go on dates with leah and flirt with sarah.” -> give me all the oblivious, pining friends to lovers. just incredible writing and a truly lovely piece. 

tap by @houseravenclaws •  “bucky never talked much, he fell in love anyway.” -> you KNOW i already love sarah’s writing, it was on my last list. HERE’S MORE! this fic tore me apart in the best way and i still think about it all the time. it has become a go to. 

all the good things by @/houseravenclaws • “bucky’s been a little more than happy recently. sam thinks it has something to do with the pretty girl on the team.” -> need i say more? i needn’t say more. 

i love you, you idiot by @chrisevansjellybeans • “we’re best friends but won’t say we’re in love trope.” -> this fic made my heart sore. i love when writers have the ability to show love through the smallest of details and this fic did that so well. 

the things you’ve done by @divine-mistake • “what if the world ended tomorrow and all he did was spend his last day with you thinking about how you never hold his metal hand and you never walk on his left side and you constantly reach for his right arm?” -> OHHHHHHHHH MAN oh man this fic left me in shambles. absolute shambles and gave me a big, bright smile. insecure!bucky just does something to me. bucky is written perfectly in this. 

cornerstone by @agentofbarnes • this is a piece of zee’s (incredible) barnes’ au where bucky and reader (babydoll) are married with kids. -> i love the entire barnes’ au, but this piece honestly meant so much to me??? seeing bucky as an incredibly loving and open father just makes me so happy. 

leather jacket full of cats by @bucksfucks • “bucky brings home kittens.” -> nora doesn’t write fluff, but when she does it comes out absolutely incredible???? bucky and kittens?? PLEASE this made so happy (hi keep an eye out for more of nora’s work in the nsfw section) 

bulova by @babycap • “in the five years between the two snaps that changed it all, life had moved on, as life is want to do. In the aftermath of that final battle, you discover that time waited for no one (least of all you), and those you loved marched forward into it without you. Sam suggests you volunteer at the local retirement community to keep you busy, keep your mind from lingering on what—and who—you lost. In giving back, you find that time can be just as generous as it is cruel.” -> this is a babycap (dev my love) fan account. i have never read such beautiful words & i am always so stunned by the amazing works that dev puts out. i get so excited to read them. 

sunset by @belladonnabarnes • “bucky meets a pretty girl and her little sister at the zoo.” -> how did you know it was my dream to meet bucky at the zoo jaye?????? ahhhhh i loved this fic so much, it was so incredibly sweet i had the dopiest smile on my face when reading it. 

crawl home to her by @wkemeup • “stranded without coms, alone, and bleeding out in the middle of a russian snow storm, bucky is content to let nature take its course. only you won’t seem to let him go.” -> this fic is a masterpiece. a genuine piece of art. i was on the edge of my seat reading it, hoping i could faster than possible just to find out if bucky made it.

suburbia by @/wkemeup • “posing as husband and wife, you and bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a hydra hacker. perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.” -> yeah this one HURT. in the best way, an absolute favorite. so so so good.

that was premonition, i think by @divine-mistake • “sometimes you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky. screw that ‘it’s better to have loved and lost’ bullshit. you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky barnes.” -> just so so good. i was speechless after reading.

Others

Sam Wilson

the summertime and butterflies all belong to your creation by @golden-bucky • “you’ve never been one for baseball, but sam wilson is enough to change your mind.” -> ok. listen. i HAVE always loved baseball and this fic made me dream of mr. sam wilson in a lil uniform and me cheering him on. it was so sweet and i just loved it. a dream come true.

scary love by @bvckysmoon • “the first ‘i love yous’ are always scary.” -> being in love with sam wilson? yes please! this fic is so tooth achingly sweet, i adore it.

that way by @belouva • “you don’t know what label to fall under anymore. were you his roommate, friend or his lover?” -> i love roommate! sam… the first two parts of this series are so good.

Steve Rogers

you don’t know by @/divine-mistake • “until her gaze falls on you and her lovesick puppy dog eyes morph into saucers, leaving her frozen in pure shock. that visage quickly melts away to reveal a smug smile, aimed right at you, and you know exactly what she’s thinking at this moment.” -> steve & plus-size reader! i actually teared up, this fic hit really close to home and is beautifully written.

Spencer Reid

the one where everyone finds out by @reidscanehand • “Spencer Reid is in love with Y/N, and she’s in love with him...only they don’t know it yet...and they might be are definitely going to be the very last to know. And since Spencer and Y/N happen to be surrounded by the best profilers in the country, the rest of the team is, of course, the first to piece together the romance. Little by little, bit by bit, the team solves the case of Spencer and Y/N.” -> i constantly go back and reread this fic… it means so much to me!

work wife by @differentkettleoffishalltogether • “Spencer can’t help but feel a little jealous when it seems like his best friend is interested in someone else.” -> best friend spencer & love confessions? yeah that’s what i like.

Aaron Hotchner

dream a little dream by @ssahotchswife • “Following an injury, the reader dreams about time spent with Aaron Hotchner and his son. She relives heartbreak about Aaron's relationship with Beth and the love she has for Jack. Aaron must come to terms with his feelings for the reader when she wakes.” -> aaron hotchner is my comfort man and this fic makes my chest ache

NSFW

just friends by @/bucksfucks • “you and chris are just friends, right?” -> chris evans please i’m free on saturday

forbidden fruit by @/bucksfucks • “you attempt to set your ex’s things on fire. bucky has a better idea.” -> dadsbestfriend!bucky has my heart and it’s literally because of nora’s writing

appointments by @buckycuddlebuddy • “bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.” -> ooooooooof i love this lil series so much

— ➶ —

these are all of my summer reads!!! i’ll definitely post another one after fall semester, this will most likely be a seasonal thing.

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Winter In The Shade XI

Part XI

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2769

Requested by @pogueslandia : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: None. Let me know if there is something.

Want to know when I post the next part? Add yourself to my taglist!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The holidays were over but the cold weather remained. Sitting outside the stairs of the castle entrance, you rubbed your hands together as more snow started falling from the sky. Everything in sight was white and brought you comfort that only the purity of snow could. All one color, cold enough to burn your skin if you played with it for too long, so beautiful yet so dangerous. You were tempted to bury your hand in the small mountain next to your feet.

But the cold hitting your face brought you out of your haze.

“Hey!” you squealed, your voice high from the cold snow sticking to your cheek. You brought your hand up to your face with half a smile as you turned in the direction someone hit you, your smile full once you saw your attacker.

“You were almost drooling over the snow there.” Sirius said with a grin “Thought maybe I would give you what you wanted.”

“Not funny.” you told him, sticking out your tongue in his direction as you cleaned the melted snow with your sleeve.

“Your face says otherwise.” he pointed towards you, your smile permanent on your face as he walked closer “Besides, I think James and Peter found it hilarious.” he said, his hand rising over your shoulder and behind your back.

“Oh yeah, I bet this is all really amusing for them.” you laughed, waving a hand in their direction as Remus was the only one to wave back, the other two still laughing. You could swear they put something in their food, they always had smiles on their faces and life wasn’t that funny. At least not yours.

You patted Sirius in the arm, capturing his attention immediately “Watch this.” you said, pulling your wand out of your pocket with the most discreet movement. You pointed towards the small mountain of snow where you sat before, murmuring the spell under your breath as it slowly levitated from the ground. You had your entire focus on the spell, your face contorted with concentration as you moved the snow in the air, missing the amazement in Sirius’ face as his eyes gleamed with awe. The snow carefully flowed above the heads of James and Peter, the small flakes you couldn’t keep in the air falling right over Remus’ hair, his grin wide as he saw you, he took a careful step back just right before the snow fell.

Their screams filled the entire courtyard, the two boys buried as their faces emerged from the snow. They looked everywhere, confused faces taking glances at every voice that filled the courtyard with no luck. No one pranked the pranksters, but Sirius had taken hold of your shoulders in time to turn you and make it look like you had been talking all along.

“Thanks.” you giggled, moving your hair out of your face.

“They’ll get you for that once they found out it was you.” he warned, his smile never leaving his face.

“You’re telling them?” you asked, fake hurt filling your face as you placed a hand over your chest “Here I thought we were friends.”

His eyes widened in surprise, his smile falling slightly for a more genuine one “Are we now?” he asked with some amusement.

“Y/N.” you closed your mouth as soon as you heard your name being called, hiding your blush by turning in their direction with a tight smile “The train just got here.” they told you with a smile, continuing their way inside the castle as you turned to Sirius.

“I have to go.” you whispered to him, squeezing his hand once in response to his nod. You didn’t wait to hear if he said anything, knowing you would be fighting yourself to stay or start running towards the station.

And Sirius watched you go, a smile on his face as he turned back to his friends. They were all getting the snow off their heads, murmuring about their secret prankster “We’ll get ‘em. Just wait.” said James with a glint in his eyes.

Remus was the first to notice Sirius, looking over his shoulder to find you nowhere in sight “Where did she go to?” he asked, helping Peter to his feet.

Sirius shrugged his shoulders, taking one look back before he murmured “Regulus just got back.”

*******

You were running to the station, footprints left on the snow every step you took. Once there it was a sea of people, standing on your tiptoes to find black hair and storm grey eyes. He shouldn’t be that difficult to find, he was tall and had a posture that screamed to be seen. Still you couldn’t find him.

You avoided all the people standing there. Some collected their belongings, others greeted their friends with hugs and pats on the back, some walked in the opposite direction you were headed. And at last, on the last door on the far end of the train you saw him, suitcase in hand as he closed the door behind him.

You didn’t wait for him to see you, didn’t stop to yell his name or to announce yourself. You just ran.

Your body clashed against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck, only his fast reflexes as a seeker in the quidditch team allowing him to properly catch you without tumbling to the floor.

Your laugh was a melody to his ears, his arm tightening around you as he realized he was back beside you. “Hello.” he whispered in your side, dropping his suitcase as he hugged you properly, his arms lifting you the slightest from the ground but enough to make you hold on tight to him.

“Hi.” you whispered back “I missed you.” you said, taking a step back.

“I can tell.” he said, holding onto one of your hands as he looked at you “I missed you too.”

You stared at each other for a moment, taking in the small changes that could have occurred in the few weeks you spent apart. Nothing had changed, really, but you still put up the act to look for something. He saw nothing in you but your usual confidence and light air, you had a smile on your face that lightened the weight in his heart and that’s really all he needed. You saw him like it was the first time, all those months ago in the library when you bumped into him. He stood tall and with a perfect look on his face, but you could still see through him, now more than before, and he had something to him that wasn’t right. You suspected he was tired from the train and all he needed was a good night of sleep.

“C'mon,” you tugged on his hand, circling your arm around his as you both started to walk, “Hogwarts is not the same without you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer all of your letters.” he said suddenly, his eyes looking straight ahead “But for someone who was completely bored and had nothing to do, you did write a lot. Every day in fact,” he said, looking at you with a small smile “Multiple times a day, I would say.”

You gasped loudly as you turned to look at him “I did not.” you defended yourself “It was just a couple of letters, besides, that was at first.”

“Right, your letters did lower in number by the end. You found something to do?” he asked.

Yeah, I spent time with your brother and his friends, that's all. Oh, how’s that knife in your back? Your stomach turned at the feeling, guilt rising up your throat as you only managed a nervous laugh “I made some friends.”

*******

“Where are you off to?”

It had been some peaceful days but now that classes had started again, you had to go back to the fast pace of life as a student. You barely had time to be with Regulus and the fact that you had some classes apart suddenly appeared in your head as you saw the books and notes he held on his arm.

“I’ll probably just head back to the common room.” you said with a shrug “I have some reading to do and Félix needs some help.”

He raised his eyebrows, nodding his head as he looked back momentarily, lingering on a group of people walking just behind him “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” he said, not even turning back as his feet started to carry him away.

“Reg!” you called, taking his wrist in yours to stop him.

He looked down to your hand, his eyes finding yours with a frown as he stared. He said nothing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, letting go of his hand.

His eyes softened “Of course,” he said with a nod “I’m just late.”

You pursed your lips in a thin line but said nothing, nodding in his direction as he ran off. You walked in the opposite direction, your thoughts the only company you had as they circled you with no end, no rest.

Sirius’ words had been a constant echo inside your head for the last couple of days, the Regulus he knew a completely different person from the one you had come to call a friend, a part of your family. It left you restless at night to think that maybe you didn’t know Regulus as well as you thought, that maybe he showed you what you wanted to see in a friend. Then why didn’t he have more friends? Deep down you knew you were overthinking it, that Sirius had a perspective from his brother and a family scenario, not the one you had of a friend. But still it scared you, to think Regulus could be what Sirius described, what he thought Regulus was. You didn’t want to fall for his words and believe it without having tangible proof but it was undeniable that Regulus wasn’t the same person that left right after the Christmas party. He had changed, and you couldn’t tell if it was for the better.

It also didn’t help that the guilt aching inside of you was a constant reminder of you lying to Regulus. You knew you two had classes apart, you knew he had some sort of thing you knew nothing about late in the day and that you didn’t see him until the next day. You took the opportunity to meet with your new friend.

You sat on the side of the hall, the small bench cold to the touch. You waited a couple of minutes before his footsteps echoed the walls, his uniform made a mess as you lifted your gaze to him.

“Is there a tornado in the school that I need to know about?” you asked, sitting straight as you took a good look at him. His tie was undone, his shirt untucked and trying to escape the confines of his sweater. His hair was messy, hands running through it too many times to make it somewhat neater.

“No but that is a good idea,” he said, flopping down next to you on the bench. “I’ll talk to Moony about it.”

“I swear the day you explain those nicknames will be the day my soul rests.” you huffed.

“Not happening.” he sang in a mocking manner, turning to you with a pout “I apologize for your troubled life.”

You let out a groan, the curiosity killing you since the first moment you ever heard them talking amongst themselves.

“I’ll figure it out myself if I have to.”

“I really doubt it but you can try.” he said with a smile, letting out a sigh as he rested his head against the wall.

You enjoyed the silence for a moment, the peace too precious to break it. But when it became too quiet you turned to him with a questioning look.

“Are you asleep?” you asked, poking his arm.

“Nope.” he said, popping one eye open “Never better, actually.”

“You’re too calm, it’s concerning.” you told him.

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just chuckling as he rested his head against the wall once more.

You observed him carefully, he stifled a yawn but in the end it came out stronger, stretching his arms as his body let go of some tension. “You’re falling asleep.”

“I am not.” he fought back. He wasn’t even convincing himself.

You shook your head and jumped to your feet, taking his hands as you pulled him up. He stared down at you, the trust you had in him still amazing him after he just opened up to you and you did the same. You had stopped running from him.

“I’ll walk you to your common room.” you told him “Clearly, you do run out of energy.”

“That’s insulting.” he said, pointing a finger at you but following you anyway.

“For you, it’s a relief for me.” you said, walking the halls of Hogwarts in comfortable chatter. “What am I supposed to do with you when you’re full of energy?”

Sirius had some comments to add but he reserved them for himself, pointing the more obvious “You say that as if you were to spend time with me everyday.”

You widen your eyes, glancing at him with full shock at your own words. Maybe he wasn’t the only one tired. But he looked relaxed, a playful smile on his face. “Well,” you started, never noticing he had stopped “you never know, what if…”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when he was beside you, sushing you as he pulled you behind a wall. He lifted a finger to his lips, looking around the corner and over your head “Someone’s coming.” he whispered, and you stiffened.

Was it that late? It couldn’t be that late for you to get in trouble for being outside. But then it hit you, the voice running along the walls as you closed your hands in fists.

“What about it?” Regulus asked, his voice unmistakable now that he grew closer to where you and Sirius hid. Sirius pulled you closer to him, trying to get you to walk in the opposite direction. And you would have.

“We don’t don’t want anyone thinking they are above their place, Black.” said an unknown voice, but that had no relevance to you.

You stayed put in your place, feet glued to the ground as the words reached your ears. Nothing could move you, Sirius’ words were a murmur in the background, his tugs in your hand a breeze you could barely feel.

“No one will think that.” they had stopped, their voices put and not growing any closer “Can you make sure it stays that way, Malfoy?” Regulus said the name with disdain and you couldn’t see him, but you were sure he just had lifted his chin, his face completely neutral as he stared down this Malfoy person.

“Y/N, we have to go.” Sirius said, his eyes begging but you shook your head. Standing flat on the wall, he had nowhere to go but beside you, placing his body right next to yours as he held your hand to try and convince you to leave with no avail.

“We all know who the problem is here.” said Malfoy again, a step echoing the hall as there was no other sound “Your little Ravenclaw friend is getting too confident.”

Your heart stopped at that moment, Sirius putting up a silent fight again for you two to leave. You let go of his hand as you turned your body completely to the sound of Regulus’ voice, your back at Sirius.

“She isn’t a problem.” he said, your eyes wildly looking for something to see that wasn't’ a stone wall.

“Y/N, isn't she?” Malfoy said “Ravenclaw, same year as you.”

“Not. A. Problem.” Regulus said again, and then your heart broke.

“She’s a half-blood. She’s pure enough.”

Silence filled the hallway, Sirius hand back on yours as he prevented you from making a sound.

“If you’re sure.” Malfoy said, and his footsteps faded in the opposite direction.

A small sigh could be heard from where you stood, your tear filled eyes dried up in an instant as he began to move, Regulus barely visible from where you hid. But you had no place to hide a broken heart.

Your own footsteps echoed the hallway as you stepped out of your hiding spot, Sirius cursing under his breath as you stood in the middle of the hallway.

“Reg?” you called.

His body froze mid step, and then he turned around.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, toy play, forced masturbation, some content not warned.

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

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Again, I’m always grateful to anyone who reads. Take care.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 3: Wayward ho, away we go

💀💀💀

You bent and picked up your phone. The screen protector was cracked and peeling. You lifted it off and checked for any real damage. The stream had ended but it was still operational. You tucked it away as you looked between the bikers and grabbed your jacket.

“Well, thanks for the show,” you headed for the door but found yourself shadowed.

You swung the door out into the cold and that man, Sam, followed you onto the beaten down snow across the sidewalk. He stopped you before you could evade him and cross the street. You turned back and squinted at him.

“You know, I didn’t even get to pay my tab,” you pulled away from him roughly.

“So, do I get a name yet?” he asked.

“You guys are weird,” you grimaced, “no.”

“Come on, I just saved your ass,” he crossed his arms as his breath fogged before him, “I mean, you kinda owe me.”

“Maybe your friends need to learn to control their tempers,” you scoffed and hopped over the snow to cross the street. As you expected, he kept on and as you came to the other side, you turned on him. “Look, dude, you know that whole hard-to-get thing is a myth. I’m not interested.”

He chuckled under his breath and shoved his hands into his coat, “sure,” he smirked, “I can’t let you walk home alone. Not after you go and insult the whole club. Do you really not know the shit that is aimed in your direction right now?”

“Are you talking about yourself or…” you said wryly and spun back to your path, “it’s a small town, I’ll make it home.”

“Oh yeah, it is a small town,” he caught up to you and kept step with you, “you think I don’t already know where you live?”

You ignored him and zipped up your jacket as the cold began to seep in. As he said your name, you stopped short. A chill went through you that wasn’t the winter.

“You’re a creep,” you said.

He laughed again and slung his arm over your shoulder. You tried to wiggle him off but he kept you firmly in place against him. He began to walk, pushing you forward across cracked edges of ice left from diligent shovels.

“Honey, let me tell you something, what I did back there, you’re not just walking away scot-free, you get that? You want me gone? Well, then you can find out what happens without me watching your back,” he said as he squeezed you, “I can go back right now and tell those boys it’s free hunting. You won’t make it past the corner.”

You stiffened and shifted. You were never the brightest, you made dumb decisions, but you knew then this was worse than any before. Your fun time was really a big fucking mistake. How many warnings did you need before you realised how stupid you really were? It wasn’t just a meme, it was like the godfather sent a horse head straight to your door.

“Hmm, don’t think I’ve ever seen you so quiet,” he mused as his arm slipped and his hand went to the small of your back. He turned you down your street and you glanced around at the familiar houses, “listen, you’re probably scared shitless right now? Or should be if you were smart enough to notice the gun on my buddy’s hip? Or the one on mine?”

“Is this how you always get girls?” you croaked through your dry mouth as you closed in on your nan’s house.

“I’m sure other guys like the whole snarky manic pixie dream girl thing you got going on, but I’m not other guys,” he returned as he stopped you just at the end of your grandmother’s walk, “and you didn’t just fuck around with a couple of bikers tonight, you insulted the whole club. In fact, I’m a little pressed about it myself.”

He reached out and slid two fingers into your jacket pocket. He took your phone out and turned it in his hand.

“No more of this,” he put it in his back jean pocket, “not tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll go over the rest of it but… if I see one TikTok or one meme, I’m going to be knocking on that window just above your bed.”

You blanched and peeked over your shoulder. The curtains moved as you caught your nan’s grey hair disappear behind it. You put on that stubborn pout you always got when things didn’t go your way and narrowed your eyes.

“You know this isn’t normal, right?” you whined.

He snickered and puffed out his chest, “this is Birch. This is how things go.” He reached out and ran his thumb over your chin, “you’re young, you’ll learn.” He winked and looked over at your nan’s house and waved with two fingers. “Tell the old lady I say hi,” he grinned, “but I can always tell her tomorrow.”

You scrunched your lips as felt like folding inward. He turned and strode off back down the street, his shadow fading into those cast by the streetlights. You sighed and headed up the walk and pounded your soles up the stairs. You let yourself in but faced another obstacle in your night.

Your nan sucked on a cigarette as she watched you unzip your coat.

“I thought you quit,” you said as you hung your coat on the rack.

“I thought I told you to stay away from the club,” she sniffed.

“Well… I tried,” you lied poorly.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure you did,” she flicked the ash into the carpet without concern, “I’m an old lady now, I can’t help you.”

“He’ll go away. He’s just… you know how guys are,” you knelt to undo your boots.

“I do, do you?” she challenged, “I don’t remember many boyfriends gracing my stoop.”

“He’s not--”

“That man will make himself whatever he wants to be,” she gristled, “that’s how they work.”

“Look,” you stood and rubbed your forehead, “I know I fucked up. Can you just--”

“Oh, I won’t just,” she snapped, “let me tell you something, don’t be afraid to grab a man by the balls and twist. It saved me a lot of trouble.”

“Nan--”

“I’m not saying you should, just giving you options,” she puffed out smoke, “but you gotta be smart and make the shot count.”

“I don’t… get it,” you blinked.

“You will know,” she tilted her head, “women got a sixth sense. You’ll find out soon enough.”

💀

Your nan’s words stuck in your head. Your day off was no longer as exciting. You woke with a knot in your stomach and a dull stone behind your eye. You descended to join your grandmother for coffee, restless as you didn’t have your phone to keep you busy. You fidgeted and drank the bitter brew without a hit of sugar or milk.

There was a lingering shade of dread as the wise widow’s words swirled in your head with the strange man’s promise. He said he’d be back, he didn’t say what time, he didn’t say for what, but he said he would. As much as you rolled your eyes at the club, those men proved they had conviction and Sam had shown himself to be persistent.

You ate porridge with cinnamon and fake sugar. Your grandmother’s daily fare. You left her to her crosswords and her ramblings about the daily news. You told her to change the channel and lighten up before you went. She quipped back at you to “smarten up” and for once, you had no rebuttal; she was right, it was only that it was likely too late.

You sat in bed and watched Netflix. You had your laptop but you didn’t dare look at your TikTok as it just reminded you of the night before. It all began to sink in as you felt the thick arm around your neck and heard the rough gristle of the boss’ voice. You only realised then how close you’d been to biting it and it made your skin crawl.

Hours passed and you began to pace and fuss around with random pens and books. Maybe he forgot, maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe it had all been threats to make you stop. Well, it worked and you would delete your TikTok once you got the nerve to open it.

Then you heard the heavy boots on the stairs and the pounding at your door extinguished the hope disguised as doubt. You cringed and stood in one place as you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You crossed your arms and chewed your lip. 

You were very bad at thinking things through. You didn’t consider that you hardly knew this man, though the fact was plain in your mind. You didn’t consider that you’d rarely been alone with a man. You didn’t consider that you knew exactly what his vulgar looks and suave words meant and that your denial could not erase them and all of these things were obvious and unavoidable.

A tapping came at the window beside the door and he waved to you as the blur in your vision cleared. You bit down on the inside of your lip and made yourself cross to the door. He turned the handle as you did and pushed his way past your reticence. He stepped in as you stumbled back.

You were good at acting cool, at being the quirky friend, the goofball, but when it came down to it, you were just clueless. It was better to seem apathetic and not let on how much of a loner you really were. You always wanted to be one of the cool kids but never really were.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he kicked the snow off his boots and it powdered over the mat, “this is a cute little place you have.”

“Alright, alright, I get it, I’m scared, okay? I’ll delete everything and won’t do it again,” you raised your hands defenselessly, “you made your point--”

“Have I?” he sniffed as he let his leather jacket fall down his arms, “because I’ve been thinking all day. How to punish you. You see, these things, you have to be punished. That’s the rules.”

“I…” you backed away from him slowly as he sat in the wicker chair behind the door and unlaced his boots.

“Not my rules, the club’s,” he said flatly, “now, don’t be lookin’ at me like that because if I’d left you with those other boys, you’d be in the rubble of that garage.”

You gulped and hugged yourself as your eyes rounded. His eyes clung to you and he grinned as he stood.

“Well, I know you’re telling the truth at least,” he said, “you’re scared.”

He neared and walked past you. He circled you and slapped your ass. You flinched and he chuckled. You were startled at how quickly he’d disassembled you. You tried to ready yourself mentally all day for his arrival and yet you could never be prepared for that instance.

He strode along the other side of the bed and pulled out the top drawer of your night stand. He shuffled through your things and slammed it. He turned back and went to your dresser and slid out the slender drawer of necklaces and random receipts. He felt around blindly and you heard the familiar roll against the wooden bottom.

“Ah, jackpot,” he pulled out the silicone vibe and spun it between his fingers as you watched him over your shoulder, “I knew a girl once, kept it hidden under her mattress, another had this vase on her desk… but mostly, no one puts much thought into hiding when no one’s looking.”

“What are--”

“Shhhh,” he hushed you as he put his finger against his lips, “it’s a very simple punishment and if I’m being honest, and let’s be clear I’m being very generous here, it’s not much punishment at all.” He took your hand and pushed the vibe against your palm, “you just gotta use that.”

You furrowed your brows as his warm hand closed yours around the silicone and he squeezed. You trembled and he let you go as he winked.

“Chop, chop,” he clapped his hands, “I can always come up with something else.”

You searched his face as he backed up and leaned on your dresser, arms crossed over his thick chest as his biceps bulged through his long sleeves. You peered down at the toy in your hands and traced the subtle curve with your thumb.

“Get comfortable, honey,” he coaxed, “when you finish, we’re done… for tonight.”

You were breathless as you turned away from him. Your head spun and you recounted all your mistakes as they rushed over you. You were so stupid. You couldn’t blame anyone but yourself but that didn’t make it any easier. 

And you couldn’t do it. Even alone, you were always filled with the sense that everyone knew what you were doing with the vibe. That some lurker would hear you and expose your secret. A guilt atoned only in your pleasure.

“Tick, tock,” he chirped as you heard the wood groan against his weight, “you need help?”

“N-no,” you stuttered and dropped the toy on the bed.

You fumbled with your fly for what felt like forever. Your hands were shaking so bad and stopped as you asked yourself what you were doing. What you had to. You had no doubt in his promises. You were learning the hard way like you always did.

You shimmied your jeans down and slid them to your ankles. You got up on the bed and he tutted. 

“Panties,” he snapped his fingers, “don’t be shy.”

You didn’t look at him as you lifted your ass and tugged down your panties. You kept your legs together as you unhooked them from your ankles and shoved them aside. You cleared your throat and reached for the toy as his figure loomed along the top of your vision. You clicked the button and stared at the buzzing vibrator.

“Almost there, honey,” he purred, “I’m starting to think you’re liking this already.”

You sucked in your breath and pushed your legs apart as you closed your eyes. You put your hand on the bed behind you and leaned back as you shoved the toy against your cunt and hissed as it rolled over your clit. You cupped it with your palm and moved it over your bud as the ripples flowed from your core.

You clamped your lips in your usual habit. You held in the moans that threatened and tried to ignore the soft breath of the man in the room. Your whole body was alight with shame and lust fed by the vibrations. You dropped your head forward and winced as you sensed him come closer.

“Oh, honey, look at you just diving right in,” he taunted, “that’s it… you don’t gotta be quiet with me.”

“St-st-stop,” you rasped out, “I can’t--”

“You are,” he slithered, “now keep going. I see you getting close already.”

You squeezed your eyes tight and gripped the toy between two fingers and swirled the tip around your clit. You wanted it to be over and despite yourself, his voice fed your need for release. You hummed between your teeth and arched your back as you rocked your hips against the vibe hungrily.

“Mm mm mm, honey, I don’t think you could handle a man,” he teased.

You gasped and panted as you felt the pressure pulse and you sped up. Your other arm shook and collapsed as you fell onto your back and writhed as you closed your legs around your hand and the toy. You came with a whimper as your body shook and you turned onto your side as the orgasm echoed through you.

“Very good,” he cooed and you felt a dip in the bed. You opened your eyes as he leaned his knee on the edge, “smile for the camera, honey.” You gaped at the lens of your phone and snickered as he lowered it, “now that… I think that might go viral.”

“Wha-- No,” you sat up and reached out as he stepped back and you nearly toppled over the side of the bed.

“Hmm, I might keep it to myself,” he tapped his fingertip against the back of the phone, “I don’t really like to share…” he faced you again and tucked the phone away, “I usually keep my girls to myself.” You blinked and bent your legs as you tried to cover your bottom half. He pushed his chest out and exhaled, “you are mine, right, honey?”

[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter II

-> sally face x f!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, abuse, panic attack

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: larry knocks (y/n) off her feet, literally. later, him and sal come to apologize, bearing a gift of homemade lasagna. sal and (y/n) bond over their similar bodies. his eyes look familiar.

The sound of your skateboard and the wind brushing past your ears practically deafened you, which allowed you to think in peace. Maybe you’d survive in Nockfell.

Maybe it wasnt as bad as you made it. You’d grow close to the old apartment, push through school, leave your mother as quickly as possible, and start fresh somewhere across the world. The only thing that you wouldn’t get close to is the forest surrounding Addison. It loomed over you, day and night, dewy pines poking out at you like a warning sign. Maybe mom moved here just so she could torture you with the forest. Remind you of what happened.

Loud footsteps joined the wheels of your skateboard. You looked back, and on your trail were those two kids from the apartment. The tall one’s face was almost right in yours. You let out a small yelp as your skateboard hit a rock and sent you tumbling to the ground, completely destroying your knees in the process.

“Shit!” larry yelled out in surprise as he dodged the skateboard that went right between his legs.

You quickly reached out to your head, trying to calm the searing pain pulsing through it. What the fuck just happened?

“What the fuck?” you groan. The blue haired boy, sal, grabbed your skateboard and came up close to you. pulling down his sleeves, he quickly grabbed your knees and covered them, soaking up the gushing blood.

“Larry!” sal turned around to face him. You winced as the fabric of his sweater clung to your knees. Your hands grabbed his to pull them off but you froze. They were soft and cold, almost like snow. How would it feel to hold them longer? Would you warm them up? or would they freeze you?

What the fuck?

You snapped out of your trance and moved them off your knees. You scowl at larry and pick your skateboard back up.

“Nice job, asshat.”

His face flushes at the insult and he moves back. Sally stands up and offers you his hand, but you dont need his help (obviously a lie, your entire body was aching like a scale 8 earthquake). You shove yourself up and wipe your burning palms on your jeans. With your feet back on the skateboard (it took a few tries to get up because your knees kept buckling), you flip them off and begin skating back to addison. You just wanted a nice fucking stroll alone, why were these fucks literally everywhere you went?

It’s around 12:45 now. You came home, took a bath, bandaged up your knees and took some tylenol. Mom was already in her bedroom and there were some leftover beer bottles on the coffee table, so she probably wouldnt wake up anytime soon. you quickly trashed the bottles and decided for a quick nap on the couch, since your room was… occupied. your pyjamas, for now anyway, consisted of an oversized grey ac/dc shirt and some soft-ass spandex shorts.

“finally, a fucking break from this shit.” a content sigh escaped your lips as you threw yourself onto the cold couch.

a few knocks sounded at your door.

“(y/n)? it’s uh, it’s sal. and larry.”

“fuck.”

THEY’RE LITERALLY EVERYWHERE WHAT THE FUCKKKK AGGHHH WHY CANT THEY LEAVE YOU ALONE THEY ALREADY BUSTED YOUR KNEES LIKE WHAT

“coming.” you mumbled angrily even though they couldn’t hear you.

the blinding fluorescent lights of the hallway hit you as you opened the door. along with them came the smell of freshly baked lasagna. your eyes widened for a second, before looking up at sal. he stared at you, taking in your appearance. your hair was ruffled, eyes blinking sleepily as they adjusted to the light. your shirt had ridden up and showed a bit of your stomach. he blushed as you pulled it down and glared at him, a slight tinge of red on your own cheeks.

“larry.” he nudged his friend. the brunette walked up in front of sal, holding a pan of lasagna.

“listen man, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to fuck up your knees n shit. jus’ got excited cause of your sanity falls shirt. can we, uh, can we come in?”

Slam.

larry quickly jumped back in surprise.

“i guess that means no.”

you yelled out a quick ‘wait!’ as you cleaned up your apartment and hid your mom’s weed and other things. god, for a grown woman, she didn’t know how to clean for shit.

opening the door back up, you waved them inside.

“god, you smoke a lot.” larry coughed a bit at the smell of your apartment, which earned him a shove.

“sorry! god, sal, so mean.” he mumbled.

“s’ my mom. i only smoke outside. uh, take a seat on the couch, i’ll warm up the lasagna.” you pulled it out of larry’s hands as they both took a seat on your makeshift bed.

sal shifted. “you sleep here?” he asked, confused. maybe your room was being used as storage.

“for now. there’s some weird ghost shit going on in my room. some fucking preppy ghost woman keeps squealing when i come in.”

ghosts? you believed in ghosts? maybe they’d be able to take you on their expeditions! sal perked up at the thought of you becoming friends.

“you believe in ghosts?”

“well, i saw one, so what else could it fucking be?” you chuckled as you shoveled the now warmed up lasagna onto three plates. sal noticed and his eyes widened.

“oh, no, i- i don’t want any-” he waves his hands.

“you’re having it, i don’t care.”

larry laughs as you shove it into their hands.

“feisty, aren’t ya?” he stabs some and shoves it into his mouth. you sigh and lean back into the couch.

“you guys go to the school here, right?”

larry nods. “yeah, there’s only one school in nockfell.”

“eww, larry face, don’t chew with food in your mouth.” sally laughs. in the corner of his eyes, he thinks he can see you smile.

“yeah, we go to nockfell high. i’m assuming you’re going there too.”

“mhm. starting monday. hurry up and eat, i’m not warming it up again.” you grumble. sal doesn’t move. “god, okay, i’ll look away. i have to go clean this thing anyway.” you wave your prosthetic’s fingers.

“oh, yeah, you also have a prosthetic!” his face shifts into a child-like curiosity. it’s a face that you’ve seen before, and it makes you giggle a bit every time. you place your hand on his lap. sal does a double take and his mask raises a bit.

“you wanna touch it, don’t you. go ahead.”

“damn, sal, you get all the ladies. leave some for me.” larry chimes in, hand on his forehead in mock sadness. he chuckles.

“you gonna touch it or what?”

“uh, yeah.” sal slowly lowers his hands onto it. he traces your fingers, flexing them every once in a while. he flips your palm and looks at the graffiti ‘s’ you drew on it.

“when was this?” he looks back up at you.

“grade 10, two years ago. got bored in class and accidentally took out my sharpie instead of a dry-erase marker. god, my mom was mad.” you chuckle at the memory. she didnt let you back in the house for two days. you had to camp out in the shed, where you stored your extra food so she wouldn’t steal it.

sal hummed. “what about this one?” it was a big ‘SF’. was it for his name? of course not, she didn’t know you back then, moron. still, it warmed him up a bit.

“not for you, that’s for sure.”

“damnnn, savage!” larry put his plate down. “mind if i get more?”

“larry, we brought it for (y/n).” sal scolded.

“nah, i don’t mind. knock yourself out.” you nodded, continuing your conversation with sal.

larry trotted towards the kitchen.

larry’s point of view:

sal and (y/n) seemed to be getting along quite well. good for him, really. we might be able to coax (y/n) into our friend group. i didn’t like her at first, but i think she’s just a little stand-offish. anyway, back to the lasagna. man, i wish mom would make it more often. she only makes it for guests. where is it? oh, there. (y/n)’s going to nockfell high, right? probably should tell her about travis.

your point of view:

sal was still tracing your arm, running his pale fingers over where the prosthetic connected to your skin. the doctors could have chopped your arm off completely, up to your elbow, but you wanted to salvage as much as you could, so it stops mid-forearm.

“do you take it off often?” sal hummed. it felt a little intimate, tracing your prosthetic. it was like soothing a part of your body that was already gone. what? what was he thinking?

“mmm, i take it off every night. if i leave it on, i could get rashes ‘n shit. rashes aren’t fun. ‘m assuming you take yours off every night too.” he nods.

“i don’t like taking it off during the day. phantom limb shit, you know? it hurts a lot.” you grumble.

“got the lasagna. since you’re going to nockfell, ‘should probably tell you about travis.” larry sits down. “he’s your typical stick-up-the-ass bully. doesn’t really like sally face ‘n our crew.”

“yeah. just ignore him and you should be fine.”

“we‘ll protect you.” larry swings an arm over your shoulder.

huh? you can protect yourself. does he think you can’t? is it because of your prosthetic?

“i can do it myself, you dimwit.” you push his arm off your shoulder.

“time for you to leave.”

“woah, dude, calm down-” larry’s eyes widen in panic. he didn’t mean to offend you.

“i’m sorry!”

“i’m not hurt, just need my sleep. it’s 1:30. go on now.”

sal sets down his cold, uneaten lasagna and larry takes a quick bite out of his.

“see ya!” he mumbled, words muffled by food. you click your teeth as he walks out of your apartment and towards the elevator.

“(y/n).”

you spin around to face sal. his hand lingers on your counter.

“your knees. how are they?”

you look at his eyes through his mask. they’re light blue. like the lake that you so dreaded. like the sky that morning. like your dad’s shirt. he blinks.

“uh, f-fine. they’re fine. they should heal in a few days. time for you to go.” you grab his shoulders and shove him through the door.

“see you tomorrow?” he stumbles.

“yeah.” the door shuts with a slam and you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

oh god, not this again. your vision blurs as you try to grasp onto your breath. you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. your heart thuds like it’s going to break through your rib cage. it feels like someone is strangling you, coaxing the last breath of air from your lungs. your nails scratch at your throat desperately, your salty tears only making the marks burn more. at least the cold metal of your prosthetic cools you down a bit.

shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up. you can’t wake anyone. you bite down on your lip to suppress the strangled cries leaving your mouth. god, not the lake, please. not the forest. not the huge, dirty, rabid wolf-looking creature behind your father. not his cries. please, just make it shut up. SHUT UP.

you wake up the next morning to your alarm ringing.

taglist: @purelydarling @ghostfacefricker6969 @deadpoetsandhoney

[amiedala]

DINCEMBER #6: THAW

PROMPT: Cold

SUMMARY: “I’ll need to go out tomorrow,” he whispers, mouth pressed up against the hollow of your ear. You shiver, but for the first time since he left, it’s not because of the cold.

“I know,” you mouth, knowing your face is only a breath away from his, it must be, because you can feel the warmth of his breath on your face, his palm spread over the expanse of your cheek, and everything feels starry and soft. “Why did you—”

“I told you,” Din interrupts, and the hook of his prominent nose presses up against yours. You tip your chin up, feeling his strong thumb stroke over your cheekbone, “I wanted to come home.”

When he kisses you, pulling every part of you into his orbit, you feel it thaw. And when he pulls you closer, you’ve forgotten what being cold feels like at all.

WARNINGS: none today, this is just a little lonely & then very soft :)

WORDCOUNT: 1,243

AUTHOR’S NOTE: day 6 of @dindjarindiaries’s Dincember!!! all throughout the month of December, i’ll be writing (relatively) short din djarin x reader oneshots (alongside all the other incredible participants!!!). today, what came out was a chill and then a thaw!

It hollows out and consumes you—the chill—whenever you’re left alone on the ship. It’s always been like this—the heater broke on the Crest and didn’t get fixed until four bounties later, when you’re flying through space, everything’s brought down to a freezing point. You adapt, overcorrect with blankets, burrowing your icy fingers in the closed hollow of your fists. Sometimes, when the temperature drops to a staggering new low, Din will pull you into his bunk against him, no words, just warmth.

You haven’t always associated cold with loneliness, but now, the two are inextricable, totally intertwined. There’s a thaw in the air when Din’s around—when he’s tinkering in the electrical panel, when he’s flying the ship—and it blossoms out to nearly summery when your skin is against his, a tiny star in an otherwise moonless sky.

You don’t know what you are to him—or what he is to you—but it’s far past just acquaintances and too distant for a relationship. You know his name, the outline of his invisible mouth, the warmth of his skin. He knows the smell of your hair, the contours of your body, the way you sleep. For full minutes, sometimes, in the middle of the night—the dark becomes less hungry, his body pressed up against yours.

He lives in the liminal spaces when he’s not aboard with you. Sometimes, you barely talk, but the presence of him, the whatness of it all—that’s enough to buffer against the cold. It feels almost like religion, if you focus on it long enough—living in the mouth of this new ship, protected from the cold. Like it’s something holy to be here, to participate in the warmth, to catch the rays of its shine.

Now, though, Din is gone. This new ship, held together by clashing pieces of metal and a lot of luck, has been parked on a planet for nearly three days. You don’t know where you are, exactly, just that Din’s out looking for a bounty, and it’s your turn to occupy the liminal space. The planet outside is cold, but not frozen, quiet but not inhabited. This morning, when sleep failed to keep you under—like it always does when Din’s not around—you stepped outside into the yellow frost of the morning, watching as the sun crested over the horizon. Even as the day thawed, some of the snow melting into green, gorgeous earth, the chill lingered in the air, and you returned to the interior of the ship, staring at the hand-drawn tally marks on a forgotten panel near the armory, trying to count up the days Din leaves and stays gone.

“How long will it take?” Your whisper had risen up in the darkness, louder than intended.

Din had shifted in bed, still completely shrouded in the protective blackness of the cot, his body remolding around yours. “Few days, maybe.”

“Then what?”

He sighed, long and languid, filling up the silence the best way that he knows how, breath hot against the crook of your neck, warmth lingering on your bare skin before it fades away. “I come home.”

Home. That’s what you cling to in the chill. It’s nearly impossible to imagine what home looked like before you, before this ship. You caught glimpses of it on the Crest, when Grogu was still nestled in his cradle, before reality became Jedi and complication and quietness. That was domestic. Warm enough to keep the heat inside of the Razor Crest. Here, it’s different. It only holds heat in the darkness, your two bodies entwined, the touch of unarmored muscle and skin against yours.

Sometimes, you think, sometimes, the concept of home is you. The smoothness of your skin, the hands that have patched up wounds in the hull. The sound of your laugh, musical and loud, which still sometimes lingers in the air. The smell of your soap in the shower, and how the fresher holds the scent even when you’re not the one showering. The puzzled, determined urge to learn how to become a good mechanic, to keep the ship afloat. The times when you venture on-world beside Din, fully fitted as the Mandalorian, steady and silent. When he reaches for you in the dark, that feels like wholeness, like the kind of eternity the concept of home has always been shaped like.

“Come back,” you say, sometimes, to the chill in the air, after Din’s left on a hunt. “Stay here,” you’ll mouth in the complete darkness, when you’re sure he’s asleep. His breathing is rhythmic and uninterrupted, and when he’s in your arms, you don’t move anything, afraid to jolt him back to the stubborn cold of being awake.

It’s night, now. If you’re up in the pilot’s seat—and you are, it’s the best vantage point in the entire starship—you can see the muddied haze of cloud cover, and beyond that, billions of tin, twinkling stars. You shiver, your teeth clicking together by the brute force of the cold, the way it rattles itself into your bones. Everything is starry, up there, skyward. The map of them is entirely unknowable, entirely out of your reach. It yearns and builds in your chest the same way the absence of Din does—too large to put a name to.

When the moon is fully bared over the wide expanse of fresh snow, you decide it’s bedtime. As quietly as you can, trying not to interrupt the bated breath of the cold, you scratch another tally mark into the metal behind the armory, and then you climb into bed, folding limb over limb, trying to trick the chatter of your teeth and the shaking of your body that Din is right there beside you.

And sometime during the dark night, with no stars to shine on in the blackness of the bunk, you hear a whisper. It’s barely there, the tiniest of rustling, but you feel the palm of your hand touch something scratchy and warm, and you realize, heart jolting up and back to resting rhythm, that Din’s back, he’s here.

“You scared me,” you whisper, settling into the cocoon of his arms. “Did you get the bounty?”

A long silence. “No.”

You stare over at what you think is the shape of him in the darkness. “But—”

“It’s cold out there,” he says, simply, his voice so much more human without the modulator, “didn’t wanna sleep frozen when I could be sleeping here.”

“Oh,” you say, half-asleep, leaning in against his chest. “Okay.”

Din shifts, jostling you enough that you’re slightly disoriented, the blankets readjusting over the both of you. “I’ll need to go out tomorrow,” he whispers, mouth pressed up against the hollow of your ear. You shiver, but for the first time since he left, it’s not because of the cold.

“I know,” you mouth, knowing your face is only a breath away from his, it must be, because you can feel the warmth of his breath on your face, his palm spread over the expanse of your cheek, and everything feels starry and soft. “Why did you—”

“I told you,” Din interrupts, and the hook of his prominent nose presses up against yours. You tip your chin up, feeling his strong thumb stroke over your cheekbone, “I wanted to come home.”

When he kisses you, pulling every part of you into his orbit, you feel it thaw. And when he pulls you closer, you’ve forgotten what being cold feels like at all.

*

TAGLIST: @myheartisaconstellation | @fuuckyeahdad | @pedrodaddypascal | @misslexilouwho | @theoddcafe | @roxypeanut | @lousyventriloquist | @ilikethoseodds | @strawberryflavourss | @fanomando | @cosmicsierra | @misssilencewritewell | @rainbowfantasyxo |  @thatonedindjarinfan | @theflightytemptressadventure | @tiny-angry-redhead | @cjtopete86 | @chikachika-nahnah | @corvueros | @venusandromedadjarin | @jandra5075 | @berkeleybo | @solonapoleonsolo | @wild-mads | @charmedthoughts | @dindjarinswh0re | @altarsw |  @weirdowithnobeardo | @cosmicsierra | @geannad | @th3gl1tt3rgam3roff1c1al |@burrshottfirstt | @va-guardianhathaway | @starspangledwidow | @casssiopeia | @niiight-dreamerrrr | @ubri812 | @persie33 | @happyxdayxbitch | @sofithewitch | @hxnnsvxns |  @thisshipwillsail316 | @spideysimpossiblegirl | @dobbyjen | @tanzthompson | @tuskens-mando | @pedrosmustache | @goldielocks2004 | @fireghost-x @the-mandalorian-066 | @ka-x-in | @yuiopiklmn | @hellspawwn

[saturatedboy]

Karl Heisenberg x Gn!Little!Reader

This took longer than expected, my apologise.

@bunnelbaby

Words: 4.8K

Requests: Open

Your laughter had rung through the air of the village centre, dragging the attention of the elders that had walked by. However, none was disturbed by your noise, instead they smiled and continued on with their day as they appreciated the thought of you entertaining the small young ones. The small children around you had been building small snowmen out of the thin layer of snow that was left on the stone and dirt ground. Although none of the snowmen looked like your typical snowmen, they still held each other their creativity into it. Your laughter had started after some of the children had decided to name their creations with funny names, filling your heart with warmth. “Mines called Pup because of their ears!”

“Mines called Vampy because I placed teeth on mine!”

“Mines named Snowy because their made out of snow!” The children's laughter had followed your own, them finding your laughter addicting to listen to. Being down in the village had both its ups and down when working with the children. You enjoyed each of their company, glad to be of help to those who went hunting and left their children in your care trusting you without needing to speak the words. You really did love taking care of them, however a part of you had seriously envied the children. You’re here giving them the great childhood they could before they would head wherever they chose to in life- back at your home village a little farther away, you ever received such kindness that much and you weren’t exposed to so much of affection.

The loss of your childhood had happened after your baby sibling was born. You understood the need for them to be cared for but you were thrown to the side, left as the last choice as you watched your sibling revive the affection you once had received. To think now that you were touched starved, had led to a bigger change in you. A type of change that you would coil back into as your mind was filled with bigger thoughts than you could handle. Being an adult now you were left with no choice- you hadn’t been taught what to do or how to take charge of certain things. So, every now and again when things began to get too much to think about or to take actions- you'd simply slip your mind into a more comfortable setting, being the age of 5 again.

From your past visits to the Lady Dimitrescu Castle, offering apology gifts for your boyfriend's behaviour, you’d had taken up the opportunity to be welcomed to the pen library there. The number of books had you hooked, to be able to take you far away from the reality of your own world. Throughout scanning back then, you'd came across a book that had researched about age regression- an unfamiliar word to you at the time. After scanning through the pages before you were running behind time of getting back to your own home, you came to accept that maybe this is what had begun to happen to you where you’d slip into this softer mind set when your anxiety had built up.

You watched as the children had gathered together and started to tell each other stories about their snowmen they built. You found their talks very cute and even asked them questions for them to keep talking as you didn’t want their light of excitement in their eyes to disappear. Their talks soon became quieter as parents would come and pick them up after doing their daily jobs for the village. Each one thanked you for looking after their next family line and was on their ways back home. As the sun only just began to set, you were left with two children at your side as you sat on the cobble wall waiting for their parents to come. Each of the children sat either side of you, leaning against you as their eyes drooped asleep. Humming softly, you stopped when you could see in your line of vision the 2 sets of parents walking over. “Thank you so much!” They spoke, as they gently lifted their sleeping children into their grasps. You nodded as a reply and watched as one pair walked away, the other set lingering for a second.

“Could we talk?” The father asked. You gulped, your mind drifting to anything bad you had done to their child but nothing came. Had you forgotten something? Jumping off the wall you stood with your hands behind you back, your fingers scratching each other slightly as you bit your lip in anticipation. “You see, our boy never wears his gloves and takes them off before we leave the house. We were thinking since they all adore so much if you could keep a spare set on you and tell him to wear them when you see him again tomorrow.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you hesitantly nodded in agreement and watched as the mother had fumbled into her front pocket of her dress and took out a set of brown cotton gloves, small enough to fit only a child's hand. She handed them towards you as you quickly placed them into your trench coat pocket and waved them both a goodbye. Their backs turned from you as they walked away, hand in hand. Looking up as you felt the sudden drop of rain, you sighed and furrowed your brows. “Time to get home.” You spoke softly to yourself as you pulled your long trench coat over yourself more to shield yourself from the upcoming drop in temperature.

The sky had stars peeking through the shades of blue, the moon rising over the mountains edge. Howls from around you had suddenly become more clearer as the beasts, known as Lycans, walked alongside you taking a sniff at you every now and again to make sure you were really you. Obviously, they weren’t doing this without being told so, your boyfriend had the tendency to become very protective of you and would rather have you safely home with company rather than on your own. Who knows what could get you, he can’t control over every animal in the forests and woods. Grazing your hand over the fur of a Lycan, you giggled as in snuggled into your hand and having its tongue stick out from its mouth. “Puppy!” You spoke only to bite your lip again. Shakily, you took your hand away from the Lycan, even if its whines did almost persuade you to pet it again, and looked forward on your path. You were almost there, just a few more twists to take and you could be in the comfort of your own place.

The sound of the factory running, your home, had made you suddenly become giddy and filled with happiness. Transforming your walk into a sprint, you rushed towards the gates that were still left open and ran on the trail of loose small stones up to the entrance of the factory itself. Taking a deep breath as you hunched over as your sprint stopped at the door, you ran a hand through your hair and waved back at the Lycans that had stopped at the now closing gates. Once the gate was fully closed, they scampered away howling in the wind.

“What are ya waiting for? You’re free to enter ya know!” A voice spoke over the speakers. You rolled your eyes, are you not allowed to catch your breath now. Smiling however, you pushed open the door and entered being met with the bursting heat and steam that swirled around. The smell had been accompanied with both dust and burning metal, keeping you on your feet quickly. Flinging your coat off your shoulders, you threw it onto one of the cloak hooks and trotted out of the room. Hold on... You did a double take and walked towards your coat that had successfully landed on one of the hooks on the wall. Digging through each and every pocket, it was only when you felt in your last pocket that you picked up the gloved out of it. Keeping it tightly crushed in your right hand, you nodded to yourself and hummed in glee, happy you remembered to take them. As you paced again out of the cloak room, you made your way through the long hallway and stood in front of the elevator. You pressed the ‘up’ button and waited for it to arrive. Whistling a random tune your mind had wandered to the gloves again. You had to remember to takes these tomorrow right. For the child. What if you forgot though? Would the child freeze, but he was okay today- maybe that’s because he was lucky? The thoughts soon clouded your mind that you didn’t realise the elevator had arrived and open its door, another figure waiting for you with open arms.

Your whistling had changed into a family tune, a short song your father had sung to you before your sibling had come. Pictures of your family came into mind, the holding your sibling and giving them forehead kisses made your blood boil. You felt betrayed, abandoned for your siblings needs. You were thrown, left for a better and more...more! “Do I get no hug?”

Waking yourself away from your envied trance, your eyes had met the black round glasses. You pouted and nodded, walking into his open arms and wrapping your own arms around his waist, taking a sniff at his scent. Feeling relax as his arms collied around your body after pressing another button to go back to the ‘home level’ as you called it, you kept your gaze down into his shirt not caring about the oil and sweat stains that he stunk of. “How was your day?” He hummed as the elevator begun to move.

“It was okay Karl,” You mumbled, hugging him tighter as your mind became hazy in thoughts. He didn’t press further, sensing you needed some time to maybe think. Your voice sounded strained, weak from the cold air you had felt. Karl had placed his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and closing his eyes. Finally, you were home, he had been missing you the whole day after you left him for the corrupted children as he would put it. Feeling your embrace was all he needed to be motivated to get back to working on a soldier of his. The elevator had stopped and he let go of you, leaving a lingering kiss in your hair. “I’ll be in my usual place, see you at tea,” giving you one last kiss, this one firmer than the last, he waved to you as you stepped out of the elevator and watched as it closed, taking your lover to his working place.

Turning on your heel, you pulled open the first door you could see and entered the now living quarters of the factory. Setting the gloves on a nearby cabinet, you slapped yourself in the face, dragging your hand down your facial features and groaning loudly. You just had to hum that tune didn’t you. You internally hated your senses at this moment, going back to biting your lips at the remembrance of your past family. You looked down at the glove in your now hurting scrunched hand. And onto of it all you had to remember the gloves. You could NOT remember these, how were you supposed to. Something as easily as even cooking slipped your mind half of the time.

You wanted to break down, to cry and go to sleep to doze everything off. You had tried that before but it never worked all the times. Walking around the house, you did a bit of cleaning by putting away the now dried cluttery but that didn’t get rid of the stress. Placing the last knife in the drawer, you decided to head to your room which was situated a bit way from Karl’s own room. Running your hand along the walls as your walked past them, you pushed open your door and closed it behind you. Breathing out harshly, your gaze had settled onto the stuff animal on your bed still. This was Mr Bear, the best name your creative 5-year-old mind could come up with. Seeing Mr Bear had made you giddy, smiling as your troubles had slowly and unnoticeably slipped away. Skipping to the end of your bed, you jumped on the bundle of blankets and grabbed hold of the small brown bear, laughing as you threw him up and caught him again in your hands. Just like your troubles, your mind also slipped into a freer mindset, one that the more adult you wouldn’t fully comprehend the reason behind your actions. It was like a switch in your mind, only this switch had been hidden away from everyone, including Lord Heisenberg.

Sighing, he fumbled with the loose metal compass necklace around his neck as he moved one leg to rest on the other’s knee. Karl Heisenberg had been awaiting your arrival for the last 10 minutes, and everyone who had crossed paths with him understood he was no patient man. Letting go of the compass in his hands, he pushed his chair out as he used his hands to stand up. You had never been late; this was a first and he would be lying if he spoke that he wasn’t worried for your well-being at all. Maybe you were sick? He convinced himself as he picked up your bowl of vegetable soup and used his powers to pick up the spoon that rested beside the bowl’s placement. Walking around the table, he wandered out of the room and called your name again. “(Y/n)! C’mon food is getting cold!” He leaned against the doorframe that split the dining and kitchen from the living room. Still no sound, only small thumps that were barely audible anyway. Groaning, he left the kitchen area and walked through the living space, walking behind the couch to the hallway that had three doors. Turning to the first door, he raised his fist and knocked harshly. “I’ve been shouting you, c’mon out buttercup!”

He rolled his eyes as he could hear your laughter from within the room. Just as he was about to grab the handle of your door and swing it open, his hand stopped midway as he heard you talking. Being curious, he placed his ear by the door and squinted his eyes. Yep, definitely you talking to someone. “No, you got to get mawwied! And I shall be the talking person!” Finding your talking out of character, he went back to grabbing the door handle and as he wanted, he swung your door open. Looking around, he saw you on the floor at the foot of your bed, holding a brown bear and a doll that Donna Benevinto had given to you as a gift. Seeing you hold the two objects; Karl shook his head.

“What are ya doin’ down there darling?” He asked as he crouched down to be eye level with you. You stared at him within unamused look in your eyes.

“They are getting mawwied” You exclaimed, holding the two now married objects into the air and giggling at Karl’s reaction of being wide eyed. He was going to speak but you cut him off before he could get a word out. “You could be the Flowey boy!” Getting up from your spot, you dropped the married couple onto the floor and ran to tackle Karl into a hug. Without expecting the sudden movement, Karl let himself fall onto his backside as you cuddled him by hugging and continued giggling finding the act of surprise fun.

“Buttercup you feelin’ alright?” He questioned as he took his glove off by his teeth and went to feel your forehead for a raise in temperature. You shook your head and scrambled to get off him after he had touched your forehead. As you got off him, you sat in front of him with your legs crossed. You rest your elbows on your knees and leaned forward scrunching your face which caused a chuckle to come from Karl. “What are ya doin’ then buttercup? We have food to eat,” He motions towards the bowl in his hand which you hadn’t caught before. A sudden sparkle spread across your eyes and you crawled towards him and looked into the bowl seeing the substance and liquid move about with every small movement. You pulled a face and backed away, shaking your head.

“I don’t like it.” You spoke, crossing your arms over your chest and looking away with a pout and furrowed brows. Karl was immediately taken back from your response.

“But you like this!” He said, dropping the floating spoon into his other hand as he pointed it at you. You didn’t look, still looking away from him with the same emotion. Huffing, Karl stared at you with an intense look. He was lucky he had his shades on. “Gosh how old are you?” He mumbled under his breath, meaning it in no harsh way but rather a confused intention. What he didn’t expect was you to hear him, and reply.

“5...” He sat straight, looking at you with a questionable look. He placed the bowl beside him, with the spoon in it, and leaned on one of his knees.

“You’re 5?” He repeated, watching as you looked over from the corner of your eye and slowly nodded. He didn’t choose to question it further; he didn’t fully understand nor did he know why you were all of a sudden 5 but it didn’t fully matter to him why you had changed age; he was just worried for you. And he would remember to ask you the next day most likely or when he had the chance to. He watched like a hawk as you crawled back over to where you placed the bear and doll down to pick them up. Smiling, you had shuffled back towards him and passed him the doll.

“Take it,” You pushed the doll into his hands and swayed your head left and right. With the bear in your own, you pretended to make the bear wave at the doll and made the bear walk as you moved it side to side. Coughing slightly, you spoke in a deeper tone. “Hewwo pwetty,” Karl held a laugh back as you looked up at him showing your teeth. You sat there and waited...and waited...and waited. Karl was beyond confused. “You tawlk now.” You whispered to him as you gently nudged his knee with your foot.

Karl gazed down at the doll in his hands, what was he supposed to say? He looked back up at you and saw the sparkle in your eyes with the same smile had had loved chiselled into your face. Gulping down any embarrassment he had, he made the doll wave back. You lit up like fireworks and fidgeted in your place. Karl smiled softly at your reactions, his eyes behind his glasses resting on your form. You seemed much calmer like this, something he never got to see much as you would be trying your best to please everyone in the village after being casted to work for the Lord Heisenberg. “Hi there,” He spoke, playing along with your game by placing a high pitch voice on. Yor conversation lasted for a while, to the point you both had gotten on your feet and started to move on levels from furniture to each other. At the moment in time, Karl was on his knees as you placed the bear in his now up sided hat and pretended it was a boat as you made it move physically around Karl’s frame. His laughter had become harder, some tears threatening to spill, watching you make your best ‘boat noises’ as you moved the boat about.

Whilst you were still moving the ‘boat’, Karl had turned to look over at the clock.

18:40

He placed the doll down and waited for you to come back in front of him. He watched as you had sailed the ‘boat’ around him then he quickly grabbed you by the waist making you squeal. Bringing you into his lap despite your protests, he rocked you both as your whines became less and less. “I think we should go eat,” He said, standing up with you in his arms holding onto the ‘boat’ and bear.

“I don’t wanna eatttt,” You whined, squirming in his grasp as Karl walked out of your room and back into the hallway. Nuzzling his head with your own, his beard feeling ticklish against you skin, he chuckled as you tried to swat him away.

“You’re going to eat whenever you like it or not seemingly, I have to reheat tea all over again.” Karl took longer strides into the kitchen, placing you down on the table edge and making sure you were secured in your place. Taking his hat away from our hold, he took the bear out and gave it to you then proceeded to place his hat on your head. You gasped and talk to your bear as Karl turned feeling satisfied with the happy vocal noises, he manages to make you say.

“Look Mr Bear, I’m like Mister over there!” Karl didn’t need to turn to know you were pointing at him for Mr Bear to see. His heart swelled hearing you speak about being like him, just having you with him made him feel so much more love and affection. He wanted to return that, to give you the love and affection you deserved to have in your life. He knew little of your past and family, he never thought to talk about it much since you didn’t strike any interest in them. Any conversation about them was brought to an end after a short reply.

Turning the stove on to reheat the pot of soup, Karl turned around and saw you playing with bear making it dance in your lap. He watched you, finding your actions oddly cute. To think this morning you were awake, ready to take on the day even with the clear evidence of the stress tears creating dark circles under your eyes. Seeing you play happily without a care in the world had made his shoulder drop and become relaxed, you were calm and so was he. It was like your auras would affect each other but either way it was a good collision of feelings.

“Mr Bears says your pwetty!” You said, holding the bear around its waist and holding it down on your lap. Karl raised a brow and took off his shades, placing them to hang of his green under shirt.

“Oh really-?” He walked forward, raising his hands up and wiggling his fingers about. Your child mind got the idea and started to back way on table, shaking your head with a mischievous smile. “If you don’t agree your cute then, I'll transform into the tickle monster.” You laughed and backed away to the edge, sealing your lips shut and staring at Karl with bright eyes.

Bringing up Mr Bear, you took him into one hand and raised him back behind your head, only to lunge him towards Karl, “GO MR BEAR! ATTACK!” Karl could only pretend to get hit as he placed his hand onto his heart, pretending to ‘die’.

“Oh no, I’ve been hit!” Getting down on one knee, he was slowly disappearing from your view from the other end of the table. Biting your tongue gently, you crawled on the table making your way back to your first position on the other side. You leaned over the edge, watching as Karl was on his back hand still over his supposed ‘wound’ from Mr Bear. “I’m going,” He whispered as he dramatically closed his eyes and turned his head as he was now ‘dead’. He held back another smile as he heard your laughter from above him. Your laugh was something he treasured and cherish, to hear every second of it was like his favourite record playing on repeat.

The sudden smell of hot soup hitting his nose had him open one eye, to see you blowing a raspberry at him. Getting up quickly, he gently set you back onto your butt and made sure you were stead on the table. You continued to blow raspberries at him until he gave you Mr Bear, who was left on the floor after the attack, back into your arms. “Keep them safe.” Karl demanded as he turned to go back over to the pot and turn the heat off.

“He’s called Mr Bear,” you responded, facing Mr Bear towards you as you brushed his fluffy fur with your thumb. Karl hummed as he went to grab two bowls from the cabinet, bringing them over to the set them next to stove. Taking the lid of the pot, he used a larger spoon to gather its contents and pour them into the bowls, blowing on it to make sure the heat isn't too much for you. Once the bowls were filled with the vegetable soup, he walked back over to you as he used his powers to collect two spoons from the draining board and bring them over to him. Your eyes followed the flying metal, eyes following there every movement. Your interest would be the same as a child in your caring group, they too would watch the flying metal with interest and curiosity.

“C’mon now, time to eat.” Karl took hold of you gently before setting you down on a chair. You pouted, your bottom lip quivering slightly. “What’s up my little royalty?” He questioned as your hug on Mr Bear suddenly was tighter.

“I want you to fweed me.” You mumbled, your eyes pleading him to do so. Karl was really glad that his other ‘family’ members were not there at this moment to ruin everything. Without a second of thought he agreed, grabbing one of the flying spoons into his hand and stirring your bowl to have an even amount of coolness to its hot substance.

Grabbing a spoonful, Karl brought the spoon to his lips and blew on it making sure there isn’t any steam on it after. Once he was sure it was cold enough for you to have, he held the spoon in front of your face waiting for you to open. “Say ‘ah’” He waited for you to comply, slowly you opened your mouth and felt him nestle the spoon into your mouth. Clamping your mouth close onto the spoon, Karl angled the spoon to pour its liquid into your mouth before pulling it out clean. You chewed and swayed your legs, swallowing and smiling after. Karl turned to his own bowl beside him and used his magic to get a spoonful himself to feed himself with. The routine was that, he’s feed you then feed himself. He wasn’t bothered by this in the slightest, it made you happy so why shouldn’t he do it.

With the food soon gone and bowls washed up, Karl had settled down with you on the couch in the living room as he talked about his plans to kill Mother Miranda. It wasn’t the best subject to talk about since he didn’t know if you understood his rather more profanity vocabulary but either way it seemed you were enjoying listening to him. To you, it was like Heisenberg was telling you a fairy tale and you were just nodding along with the story. Sure, you were learning new words but you were happy to be in his presence. His smile made you smile, when he laughed you also laughed, when he swore- well let's say he began to be more careful with his words after you repeated them.

Although you loved hearing Karl’s voice, your mind was beginning to be lulled to sleep by him. The hot food that you recently found out you liked again and the fun games you spent today with Karl had left you nearly exhausted. Only enough energy to sit and move Mr bear about in your arms as Karl had gotten up to grab a blanket since he too was feeling a little sleepy himself. Getting comfortable, you nuzzled into his side and held Mr bear close, whispering a ‘goodnight’ to him. After you looked up at Karl, who was holding back an urge to smoke a cigar since it was right beside him on the table and gently nudged him with your smaller hand. Karl looked down at you and nodded, waiting for you to speak. “Thank you,” Was all you said before you closed your eyes, resting your body and mind against him.

“Sweet dreams,” was the last thing you heard and your mind had shut off, the darkness being placed with a land of green grass and a black horse running about a great oak tree.