#she's here using my leg as a pillow to prop herself up on

[jenevawashere]

I took a personal day to try and get normal life stuff done. I got the first thing on my list done before lunch. The rest of the stuff wasn't done until after dinner. THERE WERE ONLY THREE THINGS ON MY TO DO LIST!!!

[ubeb0nes]

HCs for Sevika w/ an oral fixation

Ooo baby this one is sin

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This one is based off a hc by @justhereforsubsevika !!! Thank you for the sevi brainrot food my friend 😫

cw: smut. (mostly) bottom!sevika (TEEHEE)

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Those are some of the prettiest, most captivating lips south of Noxus. They were meant to always be wrapped around something; or, parted and filled until she gagged.

She is an absolute munch. She'd live between your legs if you'd allow it. Morning wood? No, morning munchies.

You wake up every morning, without fail, to Sevika peppering your skin with kisses. You can tell sleep is still clinging to her mind like it is yours, because her kisses fade in and out with minute pauses when she nearly falls back asleep for a moment.

And yet, she's still kissing down your body, lingering to lavish your lower stomach with special attention before she rises back to kiss under your ear.

"Can I have it, baby?" She'll ask in a morning voice that could have Janna herself laying back and spreading.

Her fingers are busying themselves teasing the hem of your underwear, and are deftly ripping away the damnable boundary once you emphatically say yes.

She'll always give you those begging eyes while she goes down on you, as if pleading with you for even more of your essence down her throat. She can never have enough of you. Her mind melts away when you're between her lips, all she can comprehend is you, your taste, and how you fall apart in her mouth.

Eating you out is by far her favorite past-time, she would say it's a hobby of hers even, but it's more than even that; it's literally a passion of hers. Sevika daydreams about your pussy, eyes glazing over mid-workday as she traces out your clit in her mind.

MUNCH

Once you two are together, she can't even masturbate without something resembling your pussy with her. In her mouth, specifically.

You get Sevika the custom-made fleshlight as an anniversary gift, handing it to her with a giggle (mostly bc you'd wrapped it in a way where it was very obvious what it was).

"Please make sure I catch you using it," you murmur in her ear with a groan, palming her cunt through her pants to drive home your point. And if bby can do one thing, it's follow orders!

On the night that Sevika first uses it, she gets home a little earlier than you do from work. There's rarely a night where she doesn't need to blow off some steam from dealing with the repercussions of Silco's blunders, or the general headassery of the Chem-barons.

You're not home yet, and she's particularly impatient. She takes the fleshlight out from the nightstand (with a strange sense of bashfulness lol), running her fingers gently over the replica of your pussy lips. She bites her lip, imagining your breathy moans at her light touches.

She lays down on her stomach on the bed, pillow tucked under her hips and propping her pretty ass even further up in the air. She holds the fleshlight with her mechanical hand in front of her face like she's laid between your legs, while the other pumps one of your longer dildos slowly in and out of her pussy…

Sevika doesn't know how she ever touched herself without it beforehand. Stars are shooting around behind her eyes as she traces her tongue over the perfectly-replicated folds of your pussy. There's something so painfully lewd- borderline humiliating- about what she's doing that makes her even more wet.

She loves it, she loves it so much and she's pumping the dildo even faster, her hips bucking as she sucks on "your" clit, eyes rolling back as she swears she can taste you. She can practically hear you cooing her ear, calling her a good girl while your hand strokes over her ass-

Oh, but you are cooing in her ear. And your hand's drifted down to the cock between her legs, taking control and slowing the pace down until she was whimpering. Big, strong Sevika, whimpering.

"Shhh, baby, it's okay, I'm here. Keep eating that little toy of yours out, keep being good."

The little moan of submission she gives shoots straight up your spine, and it takes all of your willpower not to fuck her silly with the dildo. You keep pumping it slowly, bottoming out with each stroke just to hear that restrained whimper in the back of her throat.

Sevika looked so good when you stepped into the bedroom, hips rutting against your pillow as she fucked into herself, face buried in your pussy. She was consumed by you, and it drove you absolutely insane.

You appreciate getting to see from a different angle how she looks when she eats you out. It's so clear that she's eating you out for her own pleasure (the fuckin' brat) rather than your own, as she practically makes out with the fleshlight.

Against all rationale, you're almost jealous. Then you remember, you're in charge.

"Enough of that. Lay on your back." And then, you're climbing up to sit on her pretty face (not without giving her a proper hello kiss first, ofc), leaning over her with a broken moan to continue fucking her with the dildo.

You'd think she hadn't had a proper meal in days with how loudly she moans into your pussy. Her hands clamp down on your hips, pulling you down to smother her face. And suddenly… you're not nearly as in charge as her tongue is.

"B-baby… please, wait, it's so much, oh!" You're whimpering as you rest your forehead on her stomach, your wrist lazily pumping the dildo in and out of her. It's funny how quickly that wicked tongue can break your more dominant spirit.

She won't stop suckling on your clit, muttering "so good, so sweet" in that fucked-out tone of hers that lets you know Sevika's gone. All that's in her place are her whims, all of which have to do with having you in her mouth.

She's pulling your third orgasm of the night out of you, which at that point your throat is raw from screaming and begging for more. You rapidly tap on her thigh, squeaking out a high-pitched string of "please"'s that cause her to release you with a pop.

That puppy-eyed look is back as you two readjust, with you laying back on the bed and her bracketed between your legs. "Was that good?" She asks, her mind still hazy, and sinking back into her subspace as you massaged her scalp.

"So good, Sevi," you praised. She smirked pridefully, dipping down between your legs to give your pussy a kiss. She laughs softly when your hips buck, and you push her face back with a whine.

"The real thing's still better," she says, reaching up to grasp one of your hands as her languid, loving kisses branched out.

[vixstarria]

Are you mine?

So I was initially going to do maybe 500 words worth of them being cute and cuddly, but then this happened. I have no control at this point, I am just the messenger. 

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV 

Mostly fluff and comfort with a bit of hurt (Astarion’s past recollections), basically just pillow talk, cuddling, banter, non-explicit, no spoilers 

Very late Act 1 / early Act 2 (pre-confession). I’ve already written past this point earlier, but I think it’s such a fun time to return to for anything flirty, with Astarion being in love but being pissed off and / or in denial about it.  

Approximately 2,000 words 

AO3

Being able to get by with little sleep was both a blessing and a curse. In no time at all you were ready to take on whatever the day would throw at you. You were rested, alert, ready for battle. The downside? The amount of time you had to spend alone with your thoughts.   

You weren’t fully alone, not exactly. You laid on your side with your nose buried in her neck, one of your arms underneath the pillow, the other wrapped around her, your leg following the bend of hers like you were chasing her warmth, bare skin on bare skin, your bodies filling each other’s nooks so perfectly.  

You could have been up and doing something useful, you supposed, but you didn’t want to waste a precious second of being able to just hold her. 

You winced and sighed, having caught yourself on that thought.  

Pathetic idiot... 

The truth was, you knew you were living on borrowed time.  

Oh you toyed with the idea of amassing more tadpoles for more powers and seeing how long and how far you could take this, but in your heart of hearts you knew this was a lunatic idea. The absolute best-case scenario was that one way or another, the tadpole would be removed from your brain, removing all its benefits alongside it. 

Then, you would spend the rest of your eternal life in the shadows, forever looking over your shoulder in fear of being dragged back to Cazador.  

You would never see the sun again.  

You would probably never see her again.  

Suddenly feeling choked up, despite not really even needing to breathe, you pressed your lips against the small of her neck, pausing then landing a few more small, soft kisses along her shoulder. 

She stirred and rolled over onto her stomach, looking at you with a knowing smile through her mess of hair. 

Shit. 

“Oh... I thought you were asleep,” you said. 

“I know...” she replied, stretching lazily. “You only kiss me like that when you think I’m sleeping.” 

So many implications in that statement. Your mind immediately churned out a dozen ways to respond, deflecting, denying, joking or otherwise brushing it off. But you wanted to see where leaning into it might take you.  

“Do I..? Here, I’ll fix that.” 

You leaned toward her, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Just your lips brushing against hers, petal-soft. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure as you trailed your lips further along her skin, leaving featherlight kisses from the corner of her mouth further up the side of her face.  

You were careful to keep the kisses tender rather than sensual. Not something you were accustomed to, at all. She smiled and squirmed a little as your lips dipped below her jawline near her earlobe. 

“That tickles...” she murmured, making you chuckle.  

“My sweet girl,” you whispered, nuzzling her ear. 

Ugh, where in the hells did that come from..? you thought, startled. 

She noticed. Of course she noticed. 

She shifted onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow and resting her head on her hand.  

“Am I? Yours?” There it was again, that knowing, quizzical look.  

“Are you not?” you asked.  

“Hmm... How can I tell?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you flashed her a roguish grin, which she ignored. 

“Should it be? Is there something you’ve done to claim me as yours?” 

Her words might have stung, had her tone not been so playful rather than mocking. She was encouraging, not denying you.  

I don’t suppose she’s going to count all the unspeakable things we’ve done to each other. I guess I wouldn’t either. 

“Is that what you want me to do?” you asked, slowly tracing a finger down her arm.  

“That depends... Do you want me to be yours?” 

This conversation was idiotic. Why was it making you increasingly giddy? 

“Come now, we have been doing this for how long? Are we really going to be coy about whether or not we like each other?” you asked, trying to sound assured rather than flustered.  

She leaned forward, as if to reveal a secret for your ears only. 

“That’s not quite what we’re being coy about, now is it?” she whispered, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips.  

You were completely out of your depth in this kind of flirting, if one could call it that. Concentrating on the physical and sexual, dropping innuendos, hinting at promises you had no intention of keeping, teasing, arousing, adding in just the right amount of vulgarity to otherwise honeyed words to make them blush and stammer in trepidation... That you could do all day as an afterthought, all while mulling over something you had read earlier, or otherwise being a thousand leagues away with your thoughts.  

But this... It was like she was playing with and delicately caressing your innermost, rawest feelings, all whilst inviting you to do the same with hers. Sex was barely even a consideration. This was an entirely different dance. And it was exhilarating. 

Before you could think of what to say, she moved on. 

“You know, Lae’zel propositioned me earlier,” she said, briefly burying her face in her hands and shaking her head with a quiet, incredulous laugh.  

“She did what? ...And how did that go?” 

“It was very... Lae’zel. I wasn’t sure whether she was offering to kill me or fuck me at first. I had to politely decline.” 

“And you didn’t tell me?” you frowned. 

“Should I have?” She studied you with a curious look, resting her chin on her hands. “How would it make you feel? If I accepted her offer?”  

Like the whole world was pulled out from beneath my feet. Again. 

“You and Lae’zel? Hmm. Sounds like something I’d pay to watch.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Her eyes seemed to be piercing straight into your soul. You had to quickly do a double-take on whether your tadpole might have been betraying anything to hers, before rebuking yourself. She wouldn’t pry like that.  

Your eyes roamed around the tent as you tried to assemble some words that weren’t too far from or too close to the truth. 

“Lae’zel is... exotic. Far be it for me to stand between anyone and such an... ‘outlandish’ experience. But I would prefer to have you all to myself, if it’s all the same to you. I don’t devote all that time to making sure that pretty head of yours stays on your shoulders just to have Lae’zel decapitate you in her throes of passion.” 

“That’s still not what I asked, but I’ll let it slide,” she rolled her eyes. “Getting a straight answer from you is like trying to seduce a blushing maiden.” 

“A riveting challenge?” 

“A tiresome one. That’s most likely not worth the effort.” 

How many blushing maidens have you seduced?   

“Alright, fine, I admit I might be a bit jealous. ...On top of being concerned for your wellbeing, darling.” 

“Just a bit jealous?” she teased. 

“Matters of honour would demand that I challenge her to a duel,” you sighed. 

“You have no honour. And she would crush you.” 

“I know. But I would die a hero’s death. Songs about me would live through the ages. ...You might need to write them for me.” 

“Sure, right after I wrote songs about how I conquered a githyanki,” she snorted. “Or perhaps songs about being conquered by one myself? I could spin it either way. Which do you think would stir more loins?” 

“I don’t know and my own loins are taking no part of this. Now are you going to keep talking nonsense, or will you go back to sleep already?” 

“Why, so you can sneak more tender little kisses on me?” she laughed. 

You didn't really want her to fall back asleep. Talking with her kept your darker thoughts at bay. What you did want, was to feel her wrapped around you again. 

“You know what? If you’re not going to sleep, you may as well carry on with your business, and I’ll meditate sitting up for a change.”  

You snatched the blanket from her, making her exclaim a sharp “Hey!” as the cold mountain air touched her bare skin, and wrapped it around yourself, settling in a cross-legged position. Moments later, she was on your lap, facing you with her legs wrapped around your hips. Just as you anticipated. You smirked and accepted her in your blanket cocoon, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her close as you kissed her. 

“So, my blushing maiden,” she said as she leaned away from you, slightly, stretching her arms around your neck and resting her forearms on your shoulders. “It seems I have you backed up against a wall. I won’t force you – do what you will with your virtue. But you must decide. Will you give in willingly? Or deny me, and spend the rest of your life wondering: what if?” She leaned in to whisper the last two words dramatically. “I will ask you again: do you want me to be yours?” 

You wondered if she had any idea how apt that comparison really was to how you felt. 

Or how eerily similar it was to some of the tactics you yourself employed when luring in your victims. Hells, even the words were almost identical to some of the ones you’ve used. To make them surrender with reckless abandon, throwing all caution to the wind, blinded by your promises. Cattle rushing happily to the slaughter. 

You knew all this. You’d seen it countless times. But just then, you also saw there was no malice in her eyes. Only something like hope that she was trying to mask with mischief.  

Wherever she was leading you, you wanted to follow.  

“Fine,” you said softly, looking into her eyes. “I do want you to be mine. And no, I don’t want to share you with anyone.” You felt oddly elated as the words left your mouth. “I’d feel compelled to dismember any hand that touched you, so to give me a fair chance at survival, could you stay away from Lae’zel? Please?” 

She grinned and grasped your face in her hands, pressing her lips against yours. 

“Good girl,” she purred, still grinning, earning herself a sharp pinch on her bottom, making her jolt before she continued. “This leads me to my next question: do you want to be mine?” 

There it was. The trap beyond the lure. You saw it clear as day. And still, you wanted to follow her. 

“Darling, after the past 200 years, I’m really not disposed to letting anyone else claim ownership of me”. You watched her smile falter, and you hurriedly continued before it turned to sadness or disappointment, or worse, pity, and spread to her eyes. “But I just might make an exception for you… If the offer is mutual.” You took one of her hands in yours. “So, are you? Mine?” you asked, placing a kiss on her knuckles.  

Who’s backed against a wall now? 

"Of course I am. As if you even needed to ask.” She touched her forehead against yours before placing another kiss on your lips. Did she have to sound so triumphant saying that? “I am yours and no one else’s. Now you say it.”  

Ah, still me. 

Still, you fought hard not to laugh as a feeling of relief spread warmly throughout your body. You hadn’t even noticed how tense you were. 

“Alright, alright...” You cleared your throat and held a dramatic pause before continuing. “You are mine and no one else’s.” 

She let out an exasperated growl and grabbed and twisted one of your nipples. You chortled even as you yelped, grabbing the offending hand and holding it behind her back. She immediately made another attempt with her other hand, which you also successfully intercepted, now holding both her arms behind her. Refusing to give up, she went for your shoulder with her teeth, with a maniacal giggle, as you laughed and tried to fend her off with your chin.  

“Yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, you feral wildcat! I’m yours... Only yours.” you declared hastily into her hair somewhere near her ear, as she calmed down. “I mean it. Now behave! I always ask before I bite, don’t I?” you said, releasing her arms. 

She attempted to glare at you, her eyes narrowed, but couldn’t keep her face straight and broke into a grin again.  

“Well... Look at us...” she drawled, placing her arms back onto your shoulders. “Snatched up onto the nautiloid with nothing but the clothes on our backs, and now we’ve each got a whole other person.” 

She looked so pleased and happy... Why..? This couldn’t last. No matter how much you wanted it to. …Could it..?  

You were falling, deeper and deeper. 

My love... My sweet, sweet love... Where are you taking me? 

~~~~~ 

Next in series - Gentle warding bond

Want more of these two? There’s more. Series master list. 

AO3

[creampuffqueen]

hold you til you fall asleep

Summary: After a sudden bought of illness, Yangchen is convinced she's on the road to recovery. Kavik feels a bit differently about her healing process - and what caused the illness in the first place.

Word count: 5358

Read on ao3

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It’s been a while since Yangchen’s body has ached like this. 

Not long enough, though.

This kind of bone deep, body trembling, head pounding pain can only mean one thing, and Yangchen is loathe to open her eyes and face the reality of it. She knows she must have slept for a while, if the dryness in her mouth is any indication. Perhaps, if she keeps her eyes shut, she can get a bit more real rest before she’s forced to think about anything else. 

And yet, the light streaming behind her closed eyelids beckons her to crack her eyes open, what feels like her entire being wincing at the effort. A groan of pain escapes her lips before she can choke it back, and her arms shake when she attempts to sit herself up. 

Yangchen collapses back onto the pillows, head spinning. 

Wait, pillows -

The last thing she remembers is standing up from the dinner table and nearly folding in on herself, clutching the corner for balance as her vision blurred. She remembers shouting. She remembers arms wrapping around her, holding her upright as her legs gave way.

But she does not remember getting into a bed. Which means that someone put her here, tucked her in, and cared for her for… 

How long have I been away?!

Yangchen digs the heels of her palms into her eyes, as if she can bring the blank in her memory back if she adds enough pressure. All she accomplishes is making her vision spark. 

She can hear her own pulse echoing in her ears, the thrumming noise of it a hammer on the inside of her skull. The room sways with each breath she takes, a threatening force should she dare to try and get up again. 

Still, Yangchen refuses to be deterred. She knocked out at dinner last night, surely she must have slept through the night and now it’s the next morning. She can catch up on her work; she won’t be too far behind, she’ll just grab a cup of tea and that will push away the lingering pain and –

The handle of the bedroom door twists and clicks, creaking slightly as it opens with a soft push. Yangchen turns slightly to look, propping herself up on a trembling elbow. 

“Oh. You’re awake.”

Yingsu’s normally deadpan voice carries a note of surprise, making Yangchen more confused than ever.

“Don’t get too excited about it,” She mutters sarcastically. Gritting her teeth, she manages to finally pull herself up to sitting, frustrated at the effort it requires. 

Yingsu lets herself fully into the room, shutting the door behind her and walking over to the bed. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. I was getting kinda used to you being out cold these last few days.”

Wait. Days?

Yangchen can feel her stomach plummeting. When she speaks again, her voice comes out in a startled croak, “What do you mean by days?” 

Yingsu’s reply is uncharacteristically gentle. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Yangchen.”

A shiver works its way up her spine, her breath catching in her chest. The blankets tucked around her suddenly feel too heavy, too tight, too restricting. She shoves them away, trying not to let the panic in her head overtake her heart. 

“Woah, woah, slow down,” Yingsu urges, “It’s all okay, we’ve been taking care of everything.”

Yangchen slides her legs off the bed, ignoring the way she sways with the motion. “A lot can happen in three days. I need to look over my correspondence -”

“You need to go back to bed,” The larger woman insists. She places two hands on Yangchen’s shoulders, holding her in place. The airbender tries to swat her away, but her smaller, weakened hands are no match. She feels like a child being punished for throwing a tantrum. 

Yingsu seems unimpressed with Yangchen’s glare. “Stay here. I’m going to let the others know that you’re up.” Slowly, she removes her hands, backing away. “Stay. I mean it.”

As though she has a choice. Her head is utterly swimming.

When the firebender shuts the door quietly behind her, Yangchen slumps back onto the pillows, attempting to take stock; of herself, of her surroundings, of the situation as a whole. 

Build the bridge. One piece at a time. Build the bridge. Build it –

Yangchen digs her fingers into her own scalp, grimacing from the pain but grateful for the sensation nonetheless. There’s too much missing. She can’t build anything in this state.

Before her thoughts can spiral any further, a gentle knock on the door signals the arrival of more newcomers. Yangchen forces herself to sit up again, to meet the eyes of everyone coming to check on her. 

They enter one at a time, cautious and slow, as though she’s some kind of animal they can’t afford to startle. Yingsu leads the way, then is followed in turn by Jujinta, Tayagum, Akuudan, and Boma. 

Boma is the first to approach her, smile warm and comforting. “Glad to see you up and about, Avatar.” Yangchen accepts the hug he offers, appreciative of the warmth it provides. Her body can’t quite seem to decide if it’s hot or cold at the moment. 

The others move in to provide their own well-wishes, but Yangchen is finding it hard to focus. Her gaze flutters between each of her companions, easily detecting the gap in their retinue. She glances up at the door, but the hallway outside is noticeably barren of the one person she really wants to see.

Boma’s hand settles on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “He’s on a supply run. He’ll be back soon.”

Her pounding heart slows down a bit. Everyone is accounted for.

“Are you hungry?” Akuudan’s deep timbre pulls her from her wandering thoughts. “You haven’t had a proper meal in days.”

The logical part of Yangchen’s brain knows that, yes, she’s hungry. Starving, practically. And yet, the rest of her consciousness rails against the thought of stopping to eat, of all things. There’s no time for that at all.

“I’m not hungry,” She replies, attempting yet again to swing her legs over the side of the bed. 

Several arms move to block her way. “If you’re not going to eat,” Tayagum reasons, “Then you should keep resting. You need time to rebuild your strength.”

“All of you stop it,” Yangchen snaps, “I’m fine, and I need to get up so I can work.”

Her team retreats, chastised but wary, watching her every move. Still scowling, Yangchen removes the many blankets layered on top of her and settles onto the wooden floor.

She barely manages to stand for a few seconds before her knees buckle beneath her, sending her sprawling forward like a newborn wolf-deer. Only Jujinta’s lightning-quick reflexes save her from concussing herself on the bedframe. 

“Back to bed with you,” Boma insists, ushering her back onto the mattress with a tone that leaves no room for argument. “You’re still feeling weak. Rest for a while longer.”

Yangchen purses her lips, trying to hold back the tears of frustration she can feel springing to her eyes. She can’t rest; she’s missed too much time as it is already. 

However, much to her own displeasure, it seems her body is inclined to disagree with her mind. The headache she’s been attempting to ignore makes its presence known with a sudden throbbing pain, sending her reeling backwards with a choked groan of agony.

“Jujinta, close the curtains please,” Boma orders quietly. One of his weathered hands strokes soothingly across Yangchen’s forehead, the touch of a concerned grandparent. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, and then we’ll all leave you be. Please try and rest.”

All Yangchen can stand to do is nod.

She watches her team file from the room out of the corner of her half-lidded eyes, biting down on her tongue to try and distract herself from all the pain elsewhere. Squirming back beneath the blankets, she wraps herself up in warmth and darkness until it’s all she can feel. 

The blankets muffle the sound around her, of Boma placing a glass of water on her nightstand, of the door clicking shut behind him, of the others talking between themselves downstairs. All she can hear is the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears, thumping in time with the throbbing in her head. 

She closes her eyes fully. Sleep overtakes her before she even has a chance to recognize it. 

~~~~

When she wakes for the second time, something is different. 

Everything in her body is about the same. Her headache has subsided a bit, but the rest of her muscles are still filled with a low hum of pain. Additionally, she must have rolled onto her side at some point, because the shoulder pinned beneath her at an awkward angle tingles with pins and needles, springing yet another grimace to her features. 

The prickling sensation dies down after a few moments, allowing her to truly assess what is different this time: the presence of another person sitting on the bed with her.

She can sense the dip in the mattress beside her, feel the faint warmth of another body close by. And distantly, through the blankets piled high around her, she can hear the faint scratching of a pencil. Smooth, steady, and unmistakable.

Yangchen slowly pulls herself from the blanket wraps, taking in the person’s figure illuminated by a single candle. Kavik is seated on the bed, hunched over a stack of papers in his lap, thoroughly and methodically circling important passages. There’s a smear of charcoal across one of his cheekbones, and his lips purse together in that familiar focused pout of his, eyes never once leaving his work.

That is, until he feels her shifting on the bed and turns to face her, pencil at last stalling its gentle scuffing. 

“You’re awake.”

His voice doesn’t hold surprise, not in the way the others’ did. Instead, his lips twitch, the start of a smile, gaze brightening just at the sight of her.

For some reason, it makes Yangchen want to crawl back beneath the blankets and hide. 

“I’m awake,” She repeats softly, carefully easing herself up to sitting. The motion doesn’t make her quite as dizzy as before, but it still feels like it takes five times the effort it should. Her body hasn’t stopped rebelling against her. 

Kavik’s mouth opens slightly, as though he wants to speak, but no words form from it. He just sits and stares, unmoving as a statue.  

Eventually, he swallows, managing to find his voice again. “How have you been?”

“Asleep for three days, apparently,” Yangchen replies dryly.

Kavik flushes. “Oh, right. Yeah, I knew that.” Shaking his head, he manages to correct himself. “I meant to ask how you’ve been feeling since you woke up. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you with the others.”

“That’s not your fault.” 

He shrugs. “Still. I wish I was there.”

“You’re here now,” Yangchen points out. How long has he been here, quietly working and waiting for her to wake again? Her internal clock is completely out of whack, and with the curtains drawn it’s hard to see the outside light to judge it.

Kavik glances at the papers in his lap. “I guess that’s true. Let me put all this away for now. Do you need anything?”

“I need to see those papers,” Yangchen attempts. “I need to get caught up.”

The stack of papers is quickly pulled out of reach, Kavik tucking the charcoal pencil behind his ear. “No way. You still need to recover. Don’t worry yourself with this, I’ve been handling it.”

An exasperated breath huffs between her lips. “Yes, you’ve handled it while I was ill. But I’m awake now, and I need to keep up my own correspondence.”

She reaches for the papers again, but Kavik whips them away, holding them above his head. He’s playing dirty now, and Yangchen isn’t in the mood for it.

“Give me my papers, Kavik.”

“You don’t need these. They’re just accounting reports I’ve been annotating.”

“Then get me that papers that I do need!” She hates how shrill her voice is becoming, but she can’t stand this, this treating her like a child who needs a time-out. “Letters, sales reports, world news. Those are all things I need to be keeping up with!”

“I’ve been keeping up with them,” Kavik protests, “And I’ll continue keeping up with them while you recover! You need to rest, Yangchen.”

“You don’t get to decide what I need!” She snaps.

Yangchen grabs for the papers he’s holding again, but this time Kavik launches himself off the bed and crosses his arms. His smile has faded, leaving only a concerned frown in its wake. “Fine. Prove to me that you don’t need more rest. Stand up, walk over to me, and come get the papers.”

She kicks the covers off her body and reaches for the nightstand to haul herself off the bed. There’s weakness in each and every muscle, but if she chooses her path carefully to support herself with the furniture she can –

“Unassisted,” Kavik adds, frown deepening. “No bending, either.”

“You jerk,” Yangchen hisses. But she stays put. He read her too easily.

Kavik sighs deeply, placing the stack of papers on her desk. He walks back to the bed, sitting down on the edge a few arms’ lengths away. Perhaps he thinks she’s going to throw something at him. Part of Yangchen wants to. 

“I’m sorry,” He finally says, “but Yangchen, you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. That’s why you’ve been sick.”

Their eyes meet, and her anger begins to wilt underneath his concern and sadness. Kavik moves closer, until he can take a gentle hand to her back, rubbing in slow, soothing circles. “Why didn’t you tell me things were getting so bad?”

“I didn’t think it was this bad,” She replies honestly, hating the way her bottom lip is beginning to wobble. “I thought I was handling it.”

“Collapsing at the dinner table and then running a fever for three days is hardly what I’d call ‘handling it’,” Kavik adds softly. His free hand inches forward until the very tips of his fingers are touching hers. Warmth sparks from his touch, even at the barest hint of it.

Still, Yangchen is struggling to wrap her head around it. Three days. She’s missed so much. How can she catch up if she’s still being forced to rest for who knows how much longer?

“You need to take it easier, Yangchen,” Kavik sighs. “Not just while you’re recovering. I mean easier overall.”

She jerks her hand away from his. “That’s not possible. You know that, Kavik. I can’t afford to take it easier, not when there’s people who need me.”

“You won’t be helping anybody if you drop dead at twenty from not taking care of yourself!” Kavik snaps.

Yangchen’s eyes narrow into a glare. “Don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not,” He insists. “You really frightened all of us.”

A pause. And then, much softer, he adds, “You really frightened me.”

How can she possibly respond to that? Somewhere, deep down, the knowledge that he cares about her so much places a seed of warmth and comfort. But on the surface, her hackles are raising, defenses shoring up around her heart. 

“I’m fine,” She insists.

Kavik sighs in exasperation. “Aren’t you tired, Yangchen?”

“Of course I’m tired,” Yangchen all but spits, “I’m always tired. Of all of it. But that doesn’t mean I can stop.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?!”

“Do you? You don’t get to tell me how to handle things, Kavik; I can take care of myself!”

“Fine then!” Kavik yanks his hand from her back as though he’s been burned, standing up and heading for the door. “Take care of yourself then! Keep on starving yourself and staying awake for days and drinking your stupid poison tea and punishing yourself for things that aren’t your fault! See if I care!”

Before Yangchen can attempt to form an answer he’s already gone, slamming the bedroom door shut behind him. The force of it rattles the bed, and Yangchen’s bones along with it. 

She’s left reeling in his wake, shaking, tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes. She looks up quickly, breathing deeply, doing her best to hold off from a full-on crying session. Her headache is back. 

Her efforts don’t work. When she wipes at her face her sleeve comes away wet. Another surge of frustration washes over her, causing her to grab the nearest pillow and hurl it at the door with all her might, biting her tongue to hold back her scream. 

The pillow falls short. She buries her face against the mattress, muffling the scream she lets burst forth. 

Kavik is always honest with her. Well, besides the one notable incident. Otherwise, in the years she’s known him, he’s been honest with her, more so than anyone else. Normally she appreciates it. Somehow, this is different.

Yangchen rolls back over, dragging her hands down her face and heaving a sigh. She’s fine. She can work. She can deal with… whatever just happened later.

Maybe after she cleans up, though. She hasn’t bathed in three days, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious the longer she lays here. 

She hauls herself up to sitting yet again. If nothing else, that is getting easier. Sliding gently off the bed, she makes a hobbling pace for the door to her bathing quarters, holding herself steady on the furniture as she walks. 

So what if she isn’t up to walking unassisted just yet? She doesn’t need to walk to answer letters. “What does Kavik even know?” She mutters to herself, “Who does he think he is?”

Yangchen stands at the entrance to her bathroom, clinging to the wooden doorframe as her vision steadies. The idea of a bath is a bit daunting, frankly, as she visualizes all the steps she’ll need to take. For a heartbeat, she imagines how much simpler it would be if there was someone to help.

She brushes the thought aside as quickly as it came. She’s Avatar Yangchen, for Spirits’ sake. She’ll be fine by herself. 

~~~~

Although she no longer carries the same aroma as her beloved lemurs after her bath, that seems to be the only benefit. Her headache has only gotten worse, and the steam from the water made her woozy. 

Her hair is still incredibly damp, despite having been dried with a towel. She would airbend it dry, but even the thought of it makes her weak in the knees. She just doesn’t have the energy. 

Yangchen leans against the bathroom counter to catch her breath. Normally after a bath Kavik would bend the water from her hair, his precision with the element often surpassing her own.

Tonight, it’s just her.

She takes a deep breath, rubbing the towel over her drying hair once more. It will be frizzy in the morning, but that’s an issue for Tomorrow Yangchen. For now, she needs back in her bed until her headache subsides again. 

Putting on her robes also feels like too much effort. Instead, she carefully maneuvers herself to the drawer she keeps her clothing in and pulls on a pair of flowing linen pants and a matching loose top. She wears these as sleeping garments – if she bothers to change into them to sleep. They’re looser, lighter, and far less suffocating than the many layers she normally wears.

Clothing sorted, Yangchen curls back up on the bed, knees tucked to her chest, trying to slow her pounding heart. Her body aches with every inhale. Somehow, sleep still eludes her.

She loses track of the time she spends like this, holding herself in the fetal position, too weak to even bother pulling blankets over herself to stave off the chill of the room. Her stomach begins to growl, and when she clutches at it her head throbs in response. It feels like she’s falling to pieces. 

A soft knock on the door startles her from her bed of misery, and Yangchen peels her eyes open to look at the source of the noise.

Peeking through a crack in the doorway, Boma’s gentle, wrinkled smile greets her. “I come bearing gifts, Avatar.”

“Hm?” Yangchen’s throat is scratchy, as though she’s been crying. She honestly can’t remember if she has.

“Dinner,” Boma elaborates, stepping into the room. He’s carrying a tray loaded down with dishes, and Yangchen can practically feel the way her body perks up at the scent. “You’ve hardly eaten anything for three days, you must be starving.”

Yangchen’s stomach decides to answer for her, letting out an audible growl. Her cheeks warm in embarrassment, but Boma just keeps smiling, walking over to set the tray down on her nightstand. 

“There’s churu, momos, shogo khatsa, shom-dae, lots of balep, and butter tea. Eat up, food will help you get your strength up.”

Yangchen certainly doesn’t need to be told twice. She dives in, not caring about how she’s slurping or chewing too loudly or anything else. Boma made her a traditional Air Nomad feast, and each bite tastes like home. 

“Don’t choke yourself!” Boma chuckles, noting the cough she makes after devouring an entire momo in barely two bites. Yangchen, still coughing, grabs the mug of butter tea to wash everything down. 

It’s after her cup is emptied that everything comes rushing back. Three days, missing from her memory. Her body, hardly functioning.

And Kavik…

“Boma,” Yangchen starts softly, taking small bites of rice pudding between her words, “Can I ask for some advice?”

Boma’s smile is warm and comforting, exactly like the food he must have spent hours preparing for her. “Of course you can, Avatar.”

Yangchen can’t quite meet his eyes, focusing instead on spooning as much of the cheesy churu soup into her mouth as possible. “Kavik and I had a… disagreement earlier. I don’t – I don’t know how to make things right again.”

Boma takes a sip of his own tea. “I knew you two had argued –”

Yangchen’s head snaps up. “What? Why? Did he say something about it?”

“Not with his words, no. But he was frustrated and upset after he went to see you, so it wasn’t too hard to piece together. He offered to help me cook, but he was being so rough when folding my momos I had to put him on butter-churning duty to get some of that frustration out.”

Well, at least she hasn’t been alone in feeling awful about it. 

“What was the disagreement about, if I may ask?” Boma questions.

Yangchen’s voice is nearly a whisper. “He told me I needed to accept more help.” Saying it out loud only makes her realize even more how ridiculous it was of her to fight about it. Of course she needs more help; she needs all the extra help she can get if there’s to be a possibility of her life’s work succeeding. 

“That’s all?” Boma probes with a pointed look.

“No,” Yangchen admits after a small pause. “He also kept telling me that I need to slow down and take it easier. But how could I do that, even if I wanted to? People all over the world are depending on me to make their lives better.”

“You can’t improve other lives by making your own a misery,” Boma offers sagely. “I agree with him in that regard.”

“But I – I’m not making my life a misery!” Yangchen protests. 

“Clearly your companion thinks differently.”

“Why does he get to decide if my life a misery?”

“He doesn’t, not really,” Boma agrees, “But I am inclined to agree with his assessment. He certainly has better judgement in that regard compared to anyone else.”

Yanghcen’s brow knits in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Boma takes another sip of tea. “You didn’t see the way he cared for you while you were ill.”

“I thought you all cared for me together.”

“We did at first,” Boma confirms, “But it became clear rather quickly that your waterbending companion was… better equipped for the job.”

Understanding crashes over her in a wave. “My gift.”

Boma sighs heavily. “There was plenty of time where you were just… well, just ill, I suppose. But there were also many appearances from your past lives. Times you were up speaking nonsense half the night.”

The pieces of Boma’s point are falling into place one by one. “Kavik helped with the episodes?”

Another nod from her guardian. “He did. Better than I ever have, honestly. And besides that he just cared for you. Brought you water, made sure you were comfortable, stayed by your side. All of that, on top of keeping up with both your work and his own.”

And I just pushed him away.

Yangchen stuffs more potatoes into her mouth so she doesn’t have to keep speaking. 

Boma carefully meets her eyes. “He cares for you, Yangchen. If he thinks you should ease up, let others take on some more of your burden…”

Yangchen places her spoon on the tray, no longer hungry. “You agree with him.”

Boma sets his mug of tea in his lap to join their gazes, expression serious. “No Avatar before you has shouldered their burden alone. Why force yourself to walk this path when you have people who want to help you?”

“I’m not alone,” Yangchen insists, “I have an entire team, I have you, Boma. That’s the opposite of alone.”

“Exactly. You’re not alone,” Boma agrees, nodding. Finishing his tea, he stands from the bed, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of Yangchen’s head. “Stop pretending like you have to be.”

~~~~

If he hadn’t stubbed his toe on the desk chair, Yangchen might not have known he was there. Kavik is good at sneaking, and he’s memorized the creaky spots on her floorboards. However, all the espionage skills in the world can’t prevent his misstep against the desk, and the pained hissing and cursing that follows that wakes her up from her nap. 

“Kavik?”

He turns to her with a wince, face shadowed in the half-dark of her room. “Did I wake you up? Sorry, I just needed to grab a few things that I left in here.”

“What are you getting?”

He glances guiltily at the desk. “Some letters that arrived this morning. I was going to sort through which ones needed a response of some kind.”

“Okay,” Yangchen agrees, “But you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. You can stay and work in here.”

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your rest.”

“You won’t,” Yangchen promises. She’s always found the sound of him writing to be soothing. If anything, she might fall asleep easier.

Kavik still looks unsure.

“You won’t,” Yangchen repeats, “I promise. Stay here and work. We can… talk for a bit.”

Carefully, each movement measured, Kavik pulls the chair from the desk and takes a seat. He spends a few seconds sorting through stacks of papers until he finds what he needs. Then he glances back over his shoulder, blue eyes somber.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

Yangchen lifts her eyes to meet his, heartbeat thundering in her ears. She holds his gaze, opening up every vulnerable part of her for him to see. “I’m sorry too.”

The apologies lift some of the weight from her chest, but now it feels as though they’re at a standstill. Kavik turns back to his papers, shoulders hunched. 

“You’re right,” Yangchen blurts before she can talk herself out of it. That makes him pause. “And I’m sorry for making you worry so much.”

“I only worry about you because I care,” Kavik replies softly. He isn’t looking at her, instead fishing around in one of the drawers for a pencil. 

“I know you care.”

Finally, Kavik turns around again, this time fully facing her. He tucks the pencil behind his ear. “I know you’re not used to having people care about you. And I mean you, Yangchen, not the Avatar.”

“Nobody has done for me what you’ve been doing since I lost my sister,” Yangchen affirms in a whisper. 

“I’m happy to do it for you. I want to do it for you, care about you.” Kavik takes a deep breath. “But I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

“It’s hard to accept help when you’ve had to do things alone in the past.”

“But you’re not alone now,” Kavik adds, in a nearly identical way to what Boma told her earlier. “Let us help. Let me help.”

Yangchen slips off the side of the bed, slowly making her way over to where Kavik is working. She’s steadier on her feet than she was earlier. The food must have helped even more than she realized. 

Tentatively, she places her hand on his shoulder. His skin is warm, even through his shirt. It makes her want to get closer.

“I want to let you help more. Can you just… be patient with me? Please?”

Kavik places his own hand on top of hers, a tiniest hint of a smile curling the edge of his lips. “We can ease into it. Together. I don’t want this to keep happening, Yangchen, I want you to be okay.”

She squeezes his hand, feeling a smile of her own starting to break over her face. “I want that too.”

Something unspoken passes between them as they lean in at the same time, eyes closed, noses just barely touching. Yangchen can feel the warmth of Kavik’s breath for a split second before she closes the distance and kisses him. 

His lips are gentle against hers, kissing her back with just the right amount of pressure. Yangchen breaks from it first, already out of breath. Kavik moves his hand to her cheek, tugging her closer with the softest motion to lay another kiss against it. 

“You should probably get some sleep,” Kavik whispers, kissing her cheek again.

“I don’t want to sleep,” Yangchen laughs breathlessly. But as soon as she finishes her sentence, a massive yawn parts her jaws wide. She and Kavik lock eyes when it finishes, neither of them able to keep from laughing. 

“I think your body might be disagreeing with you.”

Yangchen has to cover her mouth as she yawns again, this one longer than the last. “Fine, I’ll rest.” After a moment of thought, she adds, “You’ll stay, right?”

Kavik takes her hand and squeezes it, fully smiling now. “Of course I will.”

She hardly realizes she’s doing it, but in a swift movement Yangchen settles herself into Kavik’s lap on the chair, sitting with her legs across him and tucking her head against his shoulder. His breath hitches in surprise, but he just as quickly encircles her with his arms, rubbing a hand gently over her back. 

“You can still work, if you want,” Yangchen offers quietly.

“Is this some kind of ploy to sneak peeks at your letters?” Kavik asks, though his tone is joking.

Yangchen shakes her head, nuzzling further into the crook of his neck. “It isn’t. I just like listening to you.”

Sitting like this, she can feel each time his chest rises and falls with his breath, every thump of his heartbeat behind his ribcage. Every part of him that’s alive, and real, and holding her close like she’s something precious. 

Her eyes fall closed when he starts to write. One of his hands keeps circling over her back, spreading warmth with every movement. The other holds his pencil steady, scratching over the paper in perfect, precise marks. She could listen to him all night. 

She’s too tired for that though, truly. When her own breathing begins to slow she doesn’t fight it, and when the darkness behind her eyes beckons her closer she lets it draw near. The last thing she remembers before sleep finally overtakes her is this – the sound of Kavik writing, and the feeling of being safer and warmer than she has in a long, long while. 

[newtonsheffield]

On that beautiful note, my friend - is it possible for us to see Anthony actually taking care of Kate - maybe when she's sick?

I just watched me before you and bawled like a baby and just need a little bit of hurt comfort to heal my soul.

I would be so grateful if you would!

Oh I don’t think being sick is easy for Kate at all. I think actually letting herself be taken care for when she’s used to having to just get on with things and still go about her day.

She knew from the second she woke up, the room stifling with Anthony’s weight behind her, pressed against her back. The back of her throat was dry and scratchy and her head was pounding. She let out a groan and slipped out from under the arm pinning her against Anthony’s skin, their legs intertwined.

“You okay?”

Anthony’s voice was warm and sleepy just like it always was when he’d just woken up, his hair sticking up in a thousand different directions as he looked up at her through his eyelashes.

“Yeah,” Her voice was more of a croak and Anthony’s head lifted off the pillow, his brow furrowed as he reached out, pressing his palm against his forehead.

“Babe, you’re hot.”

“Always happy to receive a compliment.” She tried to brush it off even though her head spun as she stood up.

Anthony rolled his eyes, following her. “Well, you’re that always but I meant; you feel like you have a fever.”

“I’m fine.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging him back against his chest and resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re not fine.”

“So maybe I’m not feeling a hundred percent.” Kate relented, “But I have so much to do today. I have meetings and I need to get Neddy ready and-”

“I’ll call your office. I’ll call Sophie.” Anthony said firmly, “You’re not going anywhere.”

“You have to go to work.” Kate said weakly, relaxing against him as her eyelids drooped.

Anthony chuckled, “I’m a professional rich person remember. I basically just spin around in my office chair all day.”

She was fairly sure that wasn’t true but she couldn’t be bothered to argue with him as he dragged her back to bed, tucking her in with a kiss to her forehead as he tugged a Tshirt over his head. “Go back to sleep, Trouble. I’ll take care of everything.”

She felt her eyelids flutter closed before Anthony had even made his way across the room and she woke a little later to muffled voices in the corridor.

“I wanna see Amma. Make sure she’s okay.”

Kate’s eyes flicked towards the bedside table and her heart clenched when she saw the box of tissues next to some cold and flu medication propped up against a glass of water, tears pricking in her eyes at the smiley face scribbled on the box.

“You can see Amma, but you have to be really quiet, okay Buddy?” Anthony was saying gently.

“Can I give her a big hug so she feels better?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Anthony said. “And when she wakes up and I’ve finished cooking we can stay in bed all day and watch movies.”

“Okay.” The door cracked open and Kate saw Neddy’s tiny face peek through “Amma?”

“Hey, baby.”

Neddy padded into the room, concern etched on his face. “Daddy says you’re poorly.”

“I’m better now you’re here.” She patted the mattress beside her and Neddy scrambled up, shimmying under the covers.

Kate tucked him against her chest, squeezing tightly while Anthony made his way over. He kissed the top of her head with a serious expression before he held out a thermometer. “Open, please.”

“Ant, please. Neddy’s here.” She tried to joke but it sounded weak.

“Funny.” He rolled his eyes, as she let him take her temperature. He waited for it to beep before he checked it, letting out a sad tut as he checked his watch making note of the temperature.

Kate stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious Kate. I’m taking this very seriously.” He snapped two pills out of the pack. “Take these please. Your frittata should be out of the oven in about-” -He checked his watch again “4 minutes.”

“My frittata.”

“Yes, eggs are full of protein that you need to recover.”

“I have the flu, Ant.”

“And you need to recover properly otherwise it’ll drag on.” A knock sounded through the house and Anthony clapped his hands. “That’ll be Ben with my soup ingredients.”

“Soup ingredients?”

“Yes, Soup.” Anthony kissed her forehead again. “Love you. Neddy, look after Amma.”

“Yep!” Neddy said sincerely, his chest puffing out with the responsibility.

“Your Daddy’s silly.” Kate said, flopping back against the pillows.

“Daddy loves us.”

“He does.” She smiled as they settled against the pillows. “He does.”

“I love you.” She told Anthony gently that night, her nose blocked and her head still pounding with Anthony’s arms wrapped around her and Neddy conked out on the pillows beside them.He’d force fed her all day practically, fluttering around her like an anxious chicken, so much love and devotion behind his eyes. “You make me really happy.”

She felt Anthony take a deep breath and his voice sounded small when he answered. “Thank you.” He squeezed her tightly, “Thank you. You make me happy too. I love you so much, Trouble. Always.”

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: wrapped with a bow

@laurencem told me to write Mulder gift-wrapping Scully as his own birthday gift, and I really had nothing else to do tonight. So this is for you, Yeti! You ask, I ignore the state of my apartment and write fic. (I mean, does it really matter whether I clean the bathroom now or tomorrow morning?) This is just a quick little thing, but writing them being silly is so much fun. tagging @today-in-fic

“Scully?” he says, panting and boneless, “Scully? Come up here.”

She lifts her head where she’s kneeling between his legs and wipes her mouth. “Huh?”

“Come up here.” He waves at her limply, his arms heavy, heart still hammering hard in his chest. Are you ready for your first birthday present of the day? she’d asked, slipping between his legs and sucking him off until he was seeing stars. He’d thought he was ready. But good god, he’s amazed she didn’t transport him straight to the afterlife. In fact, he’s not quite sure that this isn’t the afterlife. And if it is… He squeezes his eyes closed. Holy fucking shit, what a way to go.

She stretches out next to him and he brings up a hand to her face to wipe a last drop of his come from the corner of her mouth. She looks so very pleased with herself and she has every reason. He’ll buy her a trophy. He’ll learn to cross-stitch and make her a little thing to hang up above her side of the bed: Dana Katherine Scully, Birthday Blowjob World Champion.

“So you liked your present?” She grins at him, her lips red and swollen, and he grins back at her.

“I did. I loved it.”

“Good.”

“Better than good.” He puts his arms around her as she rests her head against his shoulder. She cuddles up close to him and if they’d be doing nothing but this for the rest of the day, he would be more than okay with that. But as his heart rate returns to normal and he regains the ability to formulate thoughts beyond ‘Oh dear lord yes’ and ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again,’ he realizes what would make the morning even better. “Hey Scully?”

“Yeah?”

“I was just wondering…”

“What?”

“Is it too late for one more last-minute birthday wish?”

She frowns, propping herself up on one elbow next to him. “That depends entirely on what it is. You know I’ll let you talk me into anything against my better judgment four times out of five, but I’m not going Bigfoot-hunting with you today. The rain’s really coming down out there.”

“Oh, it’s very much an indoor activity,” he promises. “Well, not that it doesn’t work outside. I mean, we have done it outside. And that was pretty fun, actually. But it’s definitely mostly an indoor thing, and I think maybe you could even consider it a gift for both of us, if you think about it. I know you enjoy it too. I was actually planning to give it to you for your birthday in a few months, but that’s the good thing about it, really. It can be gifted over and over, and—”

“Mulder!”

“Yes?”

“You have to—” she starts, and then squeaks as he rolls her over and tackles her to the mattress.

“I’ll even wrap it myself.”

She laughs. “Mulder,” she says again and wiggles underneath him, not really trying to get free. “Mulder, stop it.”

She giggles uncontrollably as he tugs at the bedsheets with one hand and wrestles her underneath. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m usually better at gift wrapping.”

“You’re crazy,” she gasps as he rolls her into a tight blanket burrito so her arms are pinned to her sides. “You’re completely crazy.”

“You love me.”

“I guess there’s not much point in denying that anymore,” she mumbles, face half smushed into the pillow as she’s lying immobilized on her belly, wrapped up nice and tight.

He kneels next to her and tilts his head pensively as he takes in the picture. “Something is missing.”

“Yeah,” she says, trying to blow at a strand of hair that’s clinging to her cheek. “Your sanity.”

“No, that’s not it.” He brushes the offending strand of hair behind her ear, then holds up a finger. “I know. Hold on. Stay just like this and don’t move.”

“Oh, haha, very funny.” She does her best to sound annoyed, but he can see the sparkling in her eyes as he climbs off the bed.

He searches the floor, their clothes in a trail from door to bed where they hastily discarded them last night, and finally picks up his sweater. He jumps back onto the bed, landing on his knees, making her bounce a few inches on the mattress.

“You’re in so much trouble,” she says. “Once I get out of here. So much trouble.”

“It’s my birthday.” He says. “You can’t be mad at me on my birthday.”

She sighs. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

With a triumphant grin, he slides the sweater under her head and ties the sleeves neatly over her forehead. “There.”

“What on earth…?” she asks.

“Every nicely wrapped present needs a bow.”

“You’re not normal, Mulder.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose. Are you going to unwrap me now?”

He runs a hand over the blanket from her shoulder to her thigh. “Hey, no card?” he asks, doing his best to sound upset. “Where’s the card?”

“Mulder, I swear to god—”

“Okay, okay.” He leans down for a kiss and feels her smiling into it. “I guess I’m ready for my present.”

“I think your present is ready for you too.”

“Are you saying that because you want me to unwrap you or is there something else you had in mind?”

The look she gives him is the one that makes him do whatever she commands without a second thought. “At this point? There’d better be a ‘something else’ after the unwrapping.”

She’s trying so hard to look angry with him and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Oh, as often as you want,” he promises. “I swear. Part-time-Bigfoot-hunter’s honor!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she says dryly.

He unrolls her slowly and carefully, and feels actually, seriously, honest-to-god excited. He feels giddy as he finally pulls the covers off her and watches her lying here, glaring up at him. She’s so beautiful he can barely breathe. “Scully?”

“What now?”

“This is a really good birthday so far.”

“I’m sure it could be even better,” she says, and he kisses her. First her lips. Then the rest of her.

As he lowers his head between her thighs and finally gets his mouth on her, he’s already getting hard again—not surprising, he thinks. Nothing is hotter than getting her off. He lets himself drown in the smell and taste of her, and then she gives him his real present as she arches off the mattress and comes with a cry that makes him happier than any Happy Birthday anyone has ever sung to him.

“Hey,” he says, looking up at her, taking in her flushed face, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes heavily through the aftershocks. “Thank you for my present.”

“Oh god.” She lets her head fall back with a long exhale. “You’re welcome.”

“And I really liked my birthday breakfast.”

She starts laughing and he crawls up the bed, looking at her, high on love and happiness.

“You know, I liked mine too and it’s not even my birthday,” she tells him, then sighs deeply. “There was no coffee though.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ll have a second breakfast.”

“We can have breakfast as many times as you like,” she promises, and he lays down next to her and pulls her into his arms.

She’s his real gift, he knows it down to his bones. More than he deserves. But she tells him she loves him and he’s always been a believer, so he’ll believe this too. And give her as many gifts in return as she wants, whenever she wants. Anything he has to give. It’s all hers already.

[blueicequeen19]

Right Side Of Wrong

Warnings: JJ & John B’s off limits sister 👀

I love this trope. I’ll write it 100 times 🔥

Part Two

I propped myself up on some pillows and leaned back against my headboard, tangy scented smoke filling the air as I exhaled from my weed pen. I was freshly showered wearing only a pair of boxers with my legs sprawled out, my comforter kicked to the foot of my bed as I fought to erase the inappropriate thoughts I was having about my best friends little sister.

Y/N Routledge had been in my life as long as John B had. The three of us did everything together until we didn’t. She was my annoying little sister too, until she wasn’t. I constantly had to hear about John B being the over protective big brother and running everyone off that looked at her. Or asked about her. Or so much as walked in her direction.

For awhile, I was helping run off all the boys. Now part of me was glad that no one had touched her yet. She had the face of an Angel and the body of the devil. And she slowly began to realize that. She dressed for attention now and she was sure getting a lot from it. It was hard not to notice with her long, tan legs and perky tits. Her ass bounced with every step she took and my palm itched to smack the smooth flesh.

I couldn’t sleep without her invading my every fantasy. I wanted to know what she felt like.. on the inside and the outside. I wanted to taste her skin and her pussy. I wanted to know what those tits looked like when she bounced on my cock. I wanted to know what she sounded like when she came and when she gagged on me. I wanted to know if she was a squirter or a crier. If she’d like her hair pulled or choked. She was a brat, she probably liked both.

“JJ?” I blink back to reality, seeing Y/N standing at the foot of my bed in the same tiny bikini she wore in the hot tub tonight. I thought the vein in John B’s forehead was going to burst when he saw her. I suddenly realized I was sporting a hard on and her eyes were locked on it, making me harder. I yanked the comforter up over my waist to conceal myself but the damage was done. She wasn’t hiding her curiosity.

“W-what are you doing in here, Y/N?” I asked, trying to slow my racing heart. All the blood in my body seemed to be racing to my dick and I couldn’t stop it. She looked like a fucking wet dream.

“I just wanted to check on you. See if you needed anything.” She said with fake innocence, batting her lashes at me as she rounded the bed and sat on the edge next to me. My hands fisted the comforter as she checked me out, not even bothering to hide her interest. Her eyes lingered on the shark tooth necklace, probably remembering the night she made it for me.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” I tried to keep my voice even but my dick was so hard it hurt. I was going to have to rub one out at least a four times tonight.

“You sure about that? Nothing bothering you?” Her eyes moved down to my waist where I was clutching the comforter. Why was she doing this? The ultimate forbidden fruit offering herself up on a silver platter.

“Nope.” I swallowed hard.

“Okay.” Her brows furrowed, obviously not buying it. I watched as she reached behind her back and untied her top, letting it fall freely and exposing her perfect tits to me. I looked away, heat coursing through my body.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” I bit out. She took my hand, placing it over one of her tits and making me squeeze.

“Seizing the opportunity.” Her voice is soft and seductive, reminding me that I am not a strong man. Her hand falls from mine as I start to squeeze and pinch her nipple, rolling it between two fingers. I wanted to pinch her clit next. How wet would she be right now for me?

“We can’t do this.” I pull my hand away and she gives a small pout.

“Why not?” She tries to pull the comforter back but I don’t let her. I fix her with a knowing look, trying to keep my resolve from slipping.

“You know why. You’re like my sister.” I spit the words like they leave a bad taste in my mouth but she only chuckles, getting to her feet then throwing her leg over me to straddle me. I throw my hands up, sinking against the headboard as far as I can.

“You don’t look at me like a sister.” She leans in and whispers in my ear, her hands against my bare chest.

“I’m getting all this male attention when I’ve only ever wanted yours, JJ.” I fight to catch my breath but I can’t. My dick was jabbed into her thigh and I could feel the heat from her pussy.

“Stop.” I pant, wishing I had the strength to push her away.

“But you’re so hard, JJ. I can feel you.” His sultry voice in my ear as my eyes almost rolling back in my head. I can’t move my hands from their spot fisting the comforter or I’m liable to shove her on her back and eat that forbidden pussy like it’s my last meal.

“John B.” I bite out, shuddering when her lips ghost over my cheek and down my neck.

“This isn’t about him. This is about me and you and what’s coming. What’s been coming.” She kisses my neck just once and my restraint withers away by half. I swallow the lump in my throat just as her tongue swipes out and licks where she just kissed.

“He would hate me.” I rasp, feeling her tongue and teeth along my sweet spot. I had chills up and down my arms. She was pushing every single one of my buttons with her arms draped over my shoulders and her tits pressed against my chest. Her nipples were so hard against my skin, begging for my teeth.

“He would understand.” Then she bites me. Hard. It’s claiming and something inside me snaps. My arms circle her waist and I slam her down on her back on the bed, making her gasp in surprise. An animalistic sound leaves my throat as I gaze at her willing body. I couldn’t decide where I wanted to start but my cock knew.

I dive down and suck one of her pert nipples into my mouth, slapping my hand over her lips in time to muffle her cries. Her hands find my hair as I suck and bite her needy little buds one at a time until she’s withering and whimpering beneath me.

My hand slid between us and I groaned, feeling the heat and juices slipping from her already. My thumb barely swiped over her clit when there’s a pounding on my door, snapping me from my trance. I jump back, getting as far from her as I can when John B’s voice comes through the door.

“Yo, you hungry? We’re ordering pizza.” My heart was racing, I could barely register what he said as I palmed my chest. Y/N kicked me gently to get my attention.

“Yea! Pizza’s fine!” I call back.

“Okay! Have you seen Y/N? She wasn’t in her room.” John B asks and I move further away from her and her tempting tits. Her eyes narrow at me as she tries to determine what I’m going to say. God, if he hadn’t knocked on the door I would’ve fucked her. Fucked her with a house full of Pogues like she wasn’t off limits to everyone on this island.

“No, last time I seen her she was outside!” I call back, yanking on a pair of sweats and grabbing a pillow to conceal my hard on. Y/N spreads her legs and slides her delicate hand down her body, slowly running the tip of her finger over her clit until she panting softly. Oh god.

My dick jerks with the need to be buried inside something hot and wet.

“Okay, I’ll check outside.” John B’s voice makes me jump again, my nerves fucking shot.

“Okay! I’ll come help!” I hear his disappearing footsteps and I move to run after him when she slips her bikini bottoms to the side, revealing a glistening bare cunt.

All the air leaves my lungs and I step back until my back meets the wall, my jaw hanging open and my knees damn near giving out. She whimpers softly, circling her clit and gathering her wetness on her fingers before plunging a finger inside herself.

“Cum with me, JJ.” She moans under her breath, adding a second finger to her clenching hole.

“Nope. Nope. I can’t do this.” I feel like I’m having a heart attack as I make a mad dash for my bathroom, shutting myself inside just as I hear her rapidly approaching footsteps. I lock the door and plant my back against, hearing her curse on the other side.

“I won’t stop, JJ. I won’t.” I groan, hearing the determination in her voice before she walks away.

I quickly shove my sweats and boxers down, fisting my cock hard as the picture of her fingering herself plays on loop in my head. I could hear how wet she was. Her pussy should’ve been sucking on my cock, not her fingers.

I barely stroke myself three times and I cum harder than I have in a very long time, unable to catch my breath as I realize just how royally fucked I am.

[goosefruit]

rock, paper, …

vanessa shelly x fem!reader

subby vanessa 💖

cw: smut, scissoring, masturbation, pillow humping, porn watching, mentions of oral sex

a/n: hello im back from the dead and fyi im sorry if this is so unserious but i just rly wanted to write this for some reason

================================================

You had a hunch of where you could find Vanessa when you came home to an eerily silent house. 

Creeping up to the bedroom door, your suspicions were confirmed by the faintest groans coming from the room. You couldn’t help but smile at the familiar noise, one that made you squeeze your thighs together as you anticipated what awaited you on the other side of the door. Making an effort to be quiet, you entered. 

A very gorgeous and very naked Vanessa laid on the bed, a fluffy pillow between her legs and a laptop propped up beside her. Even from here, you could see the large wet patch forming as she desperately rocked her hips back and forth, the flush on her pale skin growing deeper with every gasp that fell from her lips. 

Her work clothes were strewn messily on the floor, evidently in a frantic rush.

Poor Vanessa. So horny she could hardly wait till she got home.

It almost made you want to forgive her for having fun without you. 

You stood there, admiring her, for only moments more before she realized your presence. 

“Oh shit! I’m- sorry baby, I lost track of time.” Vanessa slammed the laptop shut in one swift movement while reaching over to cover herself with the bedsheets. Your usually dominant girlfriend melted into a puddle of embarrassment at being caught in such a position.

“I’m quite offended that you didn’t invite me to join,” you rolled your eyes at her playfully, sauntering up to her side of the bed. “And what were you watching? Don’t tell me those pictures I sent to you just last week weren’t enough!”

“I just, um—had fantasies.” 

She made no attempt to stop you as you reached for her laptop, and you took that as permission to flip it open.

“Oh, you dirty girl…” you mumbled as the screen lit up to reveal a video of two women with their thighs interlocked, wet cores pressing up against each other. One of them was blonde, and the other had hair that resembled yours. “So this is what you fantasize about us doing?”

A little noise escaped from the back of her throat as she met your gaze—pupils sinfully blown, green eyes slightly hooded over as if to plead with you. The sound of shifting beneath the sheets told you that she continued to pleasure herself against the pillow. 

“Y/N. My pussy aches, fuck, so bad, every time I think about rubbing it on yours. I can’t help myself.” She panted, lids drooping though she tried to maintain eye contact.

“Let me give you what you so desperately need, sweet girl. Come here.”

It took mere seconds for your clothes to join Vanessa’s on the floor. You climbed on top of her, tangling your fingers deep in her hair, savouring her lips in a heated kiss. Her needy moans sent goosebumps along your skin, and you were soaked, through and through. It drove you crazy when your girlfriend was loud in bed. 

Peeling back the sheets, you pulled away from her mouth to take in her naked form. You grabbed the pillow from between her thighs, the musky scent of her sticky goodness lingering on the fabric.

“So perfect, baby,” you held one of her legs up, allowing yourself to shimmy between them, just until your vulvas were inches away from touching. “Gonna bury my face in this pussy after we’re done here.”

Her hands gripped on to your hips as she tried to pull you in closer, but you wanted to take your time with her, tease her a little.

“Y/N, I swear to god…”  

You rolled your hips forward so that you barely grazed against her. A shaky moan sounded in the back of your throat at how slippery she felt — heaven. Pure heaven. 

Vanessa seemed to agree, throwing her head back as her chest heaved with gasps and pants. Her nails dug into the skin of your hips. Unable to hold back for any longer, you closed the distance between you, thighs fitting together like the last two pieces of a puzzle waiting to be solved.

The first sensation melted away any thoughts left in your head. So warm, and so, so, wet. 

“Fuuuck,” Vanessa groaned, her voice raspy and gravelly. 

You grinded frantically, trying to find some friction for your swollen clit. The squelch of wetness joined the chorus of lewd sounds that already filled the room. 

“Mmm- you like that baby?” You panted out. “Doesn’t my pussy feel so much better than that damn pillow? Hmm?”

“Oh yes, baby, you feel so fucking amazing. Fuck…don’t stop, please go faster..” Her hips moved in small circles, and she let out a soft moan every time it hit the spot just right. 

“No pillow can fuck you as good as I can. Can a pillow fuck you like this?”

“No! Only you can!” Vanessa’s mouth fell open as her brows began to furrow. 

The whole bed shook from your effort, and you had to interrupt the intensity of the moment to move her laptop—that was still on the bed—to the night stand. She giggled as you stretched over, barely reaching the nightstand, given your current position.

Her hands traveled up your chest, massaging your tits and admiring how your nipples hardened under her touch.

“Let’s cum together,” she gazed up at you, full of lust, immediately bringing the mood back.

It only took minutes more before you were both on the edge. Every time your clit bumped against hers, you became increasingly aware that you weren’t going to last very much longer.

“Nessy, I’m close,” you hated how pathetic you sounded in that moment, but were too horny to care. 

Vanessa grabbed your hips once again, and gave a few more firm thrusts. 

That was all you needed. The pressure ignited the fireworks in your stomach, setting off explosions of pleasure. Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut, the arch in her back and the twitch of her thighs telling you that she too, had teetered off the edge.

“I’m in love with your pussy,” she moaned blissfully, words slurred. 

You tried to reciprocate, but, well—a hoarse scream was all you managed. 

For a minute or two after, you remained in your position, basking in the afterglow. Her sweaty body underneath you, core still radiating warmth against your own. 

“So,” you broke the silence, smiling at her. 

“So..” she beamed back.

Slowly, you untangled your shaky legs from hers, a string of wetness connecting her to you for a moment longer. You leaned in to kiss her, and ran your tongue along her chapped lips. 

“By the way, I haven’t forgotten about the promise I made earlier,” you whispered into the kiss suggestively. “I still want my dinner.”

“All yours,” she whispered back. “Though I wonder if it will taste any different…now that your uh…juice is mixed in with mine.”

“Ooh, can’t wait! It’s like a new smoothie flavour!”

She shook her head, laughing, as you got on your stomach. 

[madhatterbri]

Snowed In | Hangman A.P.

Summary: 7.) Getting snowed in and can’t leave the house with our cowboy, please, and thank you. 18+.

Author's Note: Taken from my prompts list found here. I hope I make the queen of smut proud.

Requested by: @magicalbuttertarts

Hangman Adam Page Masterlist

AEW Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @new-zealand-chic

As always, requests are open! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. ❤️

Y/N should have known that evil gleam in his eye meant something else. The scene before her looked simple enough. A fire in the fireplace, a mug of hot chocolate, and a couple of pillows on a blanket on the floor. His sweet, innocent smile lured her in.

She sat in front of his open legs. Her head rested against his chest. Adam offered her the mug of hot chocolate. The hot mug warmed her hands. They snuggled into each other as he watched her drink it.

"We didn't have enough mix," he pointed out.

"Why don't we share?" She asked.

A smirk popped up on his lips. He grabbed the mug from her and placed it away from them. "We can warm up another way,"

Adam pressed his lips to hers. His hands cup her jaw. He slides his tongue into her mouth. The sweet taste of hot chocolate draws him in more. His hands slide down to the small of her back to keep her close to him.

His lips travel to the sweet spot around her ear. Her head moves to grant him more access. Adam takes advantage. His lips roam the new territory going back to the old spot when warranted.

The bottom of her night shirt starts to lift. His hands caress her body, paying special attention to her chest. The nightgown is lifted up completely. Tossed over the couch and forgotten for now.

"Beautiful," he whispered. The only light in the room came from the glow of the fire. He could see the blush on her cheeks. She'll deny it, though. Her body was just hot from the fire.

Y/N laid on her elbows on the blanket and pillows. He followed after her. Placing himself between her legs, his knees pressed between her inner thighs. His arms out at her sides. He steadied himself with one arm. His other hand gripped her breast.

"Ad-am," she moaned out the moment his lips latch to her nipple. His tongue swirls around while he sucks. The other breast is given the same treatment. Satisfied with his work, he continues lower.

A trail of kisses begins at the valley between her breasts. Propped up on his knees, he lowers her pajama shorts the lower his lips go. By the time he is at the top of her underwear, her pajama shorts have met the same fate as her shirt.

"How did I get so lucky?" He asked while taking in her nakedness. His body is lowered to lay between her legs. Adam's head now between her legs.

Y/N smiled. She always asked herself the same question when it came to him.

A gasp slipped past her lips the moment his thumb rubbed against her slit. She attempted to close her legs, yet his elbows kept them spread. Satisfied that she couldn't keep him out, his fingers and tongue worked her.

When her fingers snake through his blonde hair, he half expects she's going to pull him away. They had never done this before. Sex out in the living room. He is almost surprised when her back arches. She pulls him closer between her legs.

One last lick of his tongue makes her unravel. Her body tenses around his head. One hand grips the sheets under them while the other grips his locks. She shudders and moans. The cowboy couldn't be more pleased with all of this.

Compliment after compliments are thrown her way. She takes everyone with pride. Adam sat up on his knees once more. Using the couch for stability, he removes his flannel pajama bottoms and underwear.

He wipes away her juices from his mustache and beard. His arms at her sides, he kisses her some more. Her fingers trace the scars on his body from working on the farm.

The head of his dick rubs between her folds. Her moans muffled by their kiss. Adam stops at her entrance. A gentle thrust allows him to breach inside of her. His moan becomes intertwined with hers.

Their kiss is broken off. He wants to hear her. Hear the way she feels by his actions. His name falls from his sweet lips.

"Adam, I'm-"

"I know," he assured her. "Give me everything,"

His face planted in her neck once more. Adam could feel how close she was. The way she whined for him.

When she reached her second orgasm, he placed his forehead on hers.

"I love you," he confessed. His hips stutter as he finishes inside her. Adam clumsily kisses her.

He pulls out of her. After making sure to take care of her, he comes back in with another sheet. Their naked bodies are covered from the outside world. He lays next to her. Her head rested on his chest. The young couple stare at each other. The fire started to die down. With one last crack from the fireplace, they fell asleep.

Y/N was the first to wake up. She found her night clothes and dressed herself. With the now cold mug of hot chocolate in her hand, she made her way to the kitchen.

On the counter waiting for her, an almost full box of hot chocolate.

[xo-cori]

hi um can i request smthn abt dina crushing readers head with her thighs while they eat her out <3 and reverse cowgirl with her. making her bounce on your lap. UGGGHHHNGH im so down bad for her.

hands on your knees, angelina jolie

pairing: dina woodward x fem!reader

summary: you’ve become addicted to the feeling of her body beneath yours. more specifically, her unassumingly strong thighs.

warnings: smut (MDNI), reader is definitely a munch 😁

a/n: HEYY i only did the first part bc i’m not exactly comfy writing about straps/any dicklike thing in general BUT I HOPE U LIKE ANYWAYS!!!

Her moans fill the dimly lit room, moonlight creeping in from the window that shines a ghostly light across her tan, freckled skin. It’s the middle of the night and she’s pliant underneath your touch. Her fingers make a mess of your hair, her bare chest rises and falls in rapid motion, and her thighs… well, you’d be content to die this way if she happened to break your jaw.

They clench down around the sides of your face, spasming and shivering. Her wetness soaks your chin and the wrinkled bedsheets below. You’ve been at it for well over an hour, yet have made no attempt to pull away or gasp for air. You simply don’t want to– and even if you did, Dina does too good a job of holding you in place until she’s had enough.

“Jus’ like that,” she purrs, looking down to see the way you’re bent down between her legs, ass up in the heavy air, giving her a proper show. “You’re so good to m-me… fuck!”

Your hands come down to her knees, encouraging her to fully close them behind your head as you hum in agreement. The vibrations cause her to throw her head back against the pillows behind her. Your tongue languidly licks up and down her petal-soft folds, jaw aching so badly you’re sure that it’ll be hard to chew the next day, but it’s all worth it when you feel her thighs tighten around your head once more and nearly pull the hair out of your head. Her back arches off of the bed while you open your clouded eyes to look up at her, watching intently as you lick another gentle orgasm out of her; her third one of the night. You sigh into her contently, scooping up all of her cum with your tongue so that you can savor the taste before she weakly pulls you off of her.

“Come here,” Dina breathes, not entirely sure her body even belongs to her anymore.

You crawl up to straddle her hips, leaning down to kiss her properly– she can taste herself on your lips, on your tongue, and she feels the slick that coats your chin. It takes all of her willpower to not jump your tired bones right then and there. Her arms limply wrap around your neck, all of that strength finally gone now that you’d drained all the energy she had. “Maybe one day you’ll actually crush my head.” You laugh against her lips, making her pull away with a gasp.

“Don’t even joke about that.” She demands, cheeks darkening with an obvious embarrassment.

“I’m not joking. You know how happy I’d be to die between your legs?” You sigh dreamily as you collapse on the bed beside her. Dina covers her eyes with her forearm and huffs.

“I’m already not gonna be able to walk tomorrow,” she groans, “so I don’t know where I’ll find the strength to do that.”

“Do what? Crush my skull like a watermelon?” You tease, laughing as she playfully smacks your arm. “It’s fine. I’ll just wait ‘til you’re back in one piece, then get back to hoping.”

Dina turns her head to look at you with a suggestive grin. “You know what? That’s awful, but still kinda turning me on.”

“Really?” You quickly prop yourself up on your arm, a hopeful tone in your voice. “We can go again, I just might have to use my fingers ‘cause my jaw is fucking done for–”

She cuts you off by moving to lay on her side and placing her arm around your waist, forcing you back down to lay with her. A soft smile graces her lips when she feels your hand come up to rub the soreness from her lower back. “You really tuckered me out, horn-dog.”

“Tuckered myself out, too. I’ll wash the sheets in the morning,” you say before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

For now, all you can do is doze off into a blissfully deep sleep and hope that you remembered to lock the front door.

[sixhours]

One Day at a Time - Chapter 5 - Labor

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Charlie and Joel find a new routine, stumbling around each other in the early days–passing each other in the hall with stilted greetings, overly polite glances, two lone wolves sharing a den.

The hardest part of having her around is her insistence on doing things . He finds the laundry hamper in his bathroom empty, the dishes washed and put away in the cupboard, the floor swept and the bookshelves dusted.

“You don’t need to clean up after me,” he grumbles after finding a bunch of his shirts folded and pressed and stacked neatly on the bed in Ellie’s old room. “Didn’t ask you here to be a maid.”

“I have to do something,” she says from her place on the couch. “They have me on reduced hours. All I do is water plants and sort donations, and there are only so many books to read. At this rate, I’ll be halfway through the library by the time the kid is born.”

“That’s the point. You’re s’posed to rest,” he says.

“I haven’t bled in three weeks,” she says. “The kid’s fine. I’m fine. A load of laundry isn’t going to kill us.”

He winces. “Don’t say it like that. And I can do my own damn laundry.”

In a vain attempt to get her to stay put, he brings home stacks of DVDs from the library and makes movies a nightly routine. If nothing else, it keeps her off her feet for a couple of hours, and he already knows they have similar tastes. Sometimes Ellie joins them, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch with a bowl of popcorn in her lap, and their weird little arrangement feels almost familial.

On one such night, Charlie is fast asleep when the movie credits roll. Ellie bowed out halfway through, claiming she couldn’t take the cheesy dialogue for one more second.

Charlie’s head is propped on a pillow next to Joel’s thigh, and he resists the urge to push an errant strand of silver hair out of her eyes. Instead, he draws a fingertip down her cheek until she stirs.

“You missed the best part,” he murmurs. “And you’re droolin’.”

“Mmm.”

She wipes a hand across her mouth and blinks up at him. It’s a long, lingering look that has him brushing the hair from her eyes after all, eager to have an excuse to touch her, if only for a second.

He realizes with a dull sense of shame that he wants to gather her in his arms and carry her to bed. The liquor that put them here may have acted as a lubricant, but at a different time, under different circumstances, he would have tried to get her to bed regardless.

The thought is pushed roughly aside as he stands slowly, stiffly, stretching through the low-level ache in his back, ignoring the creak in his knees.

He puts out a hand to help her up and she takes it, using it as leverage to hoist herself off the too-soft couch, overcoming her unfamiliar extra weight. Her hand lingers in his once she’s up, just a second too long, and he feels that familiar spark of heat low in his spine.

He fakes a cough and takes his hand away, grateful she can’t see the flush creeping up his neck in the low light.

“C’mon…let’s get you to bed.”

He plods up the stairs behind her, purposefully looking at his feet instead of the sway of her hips ahead of him.

“G’night, Joel,” she yawns, lingering in the doorway to his bedroom.

Christ, even her yawn is cute.

“Night,” he grates out, ducking into the spare room and closing the door behind him. He’ll wait until she’s settled, then he’ll go to the bathroom down the hall and take his second shower of the day, because there’s no fucking way he can jerk off in Ellie’s old room.

It’s different from what Joel remembers. There is no attempt to outfit a nursery, no crib or cradle to put together, no paint swatches smoothed onto the walls. There is no discussion of names, of gender, of a future beyond the current day; just a nightly mark in his pocket calendar, one more day in a long countdown. He doesn’t know if it’s a shared fear of losing the pregnancy or of making it too real; probably both.

Instead, they refer to the baby as a fruit, based on the list in the “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” book that someone, probably Maria, dropped on their doorstep.

“How’s…is it Avocado?” he asks, returning home from patrol. Tommy must have pulled some strings with the council because he’s been put on daytime shifts only, no overnights, and nothing longer than six hours.

“I think it’s Pepper now. No…wait,” Charlie frowns, reaching for the book and flipping to a dog-eared page. “We’re up to Sweet Potato.”

He wrinkles his nose. “How is that a fruit?”

“I dunno, but it’s making me want fries.”

He does his best to stifle the urge to follow her around and pester her to eat, to drink, to relax, but tonight the question slips out before he can stop it.

“You hungry? Did you eat?”

“I was joking,” she sighs, and he catches the tail-end of an eye roll. “But no, I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Heard it’s pizza night at the caf. Prob’ly still have the good stuff if we go now. No mushrooms.”

“Sounds like heartburn waiting to happen,” she smiles. “But sure.”

They walk to the cafeteria together, a diversion from routine. Except for their nightly movie dates, they keep separate schedules, more like roommates than future parents.

”So, uh, you didn’t tell me before. How’s ‘Sweet Potato’?”

“Active,” she says, rubbing her stomach. “At least I think it’s the kid. Could be gas.”

He snorts a laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It feels like…bubbles. Like fizzy bubbles, popping,” she says.

He nods. “You’re, uh, what, twenty weeks? Halfway.”

“You’re keeping track,” she says appraisingly.

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

Her lips quirk in a smile. “I’m not.”

He’s managed to keep his head down and avoid the rumors, but he feels eyes on them when they enter the cafeteria together; the old man and the reclusive widow. It’s almost enough to make him turn around, but her hand is suddenly warm in his, steadying him.

“Maybe we should give them something to talk about,” she whispers, arching an eyebrow.

“Pretty sure this is ‘something’ enough,” he says, gently poking at her stomach with the edge of his tray.

They find a table in the corner, someplace Joel can keep his back to the wall and glare at anyone who offers more than a sideways glance. Normally the caf’s pizza is good, but tonight it tastes like cheese-covered cardboard. He’s head down, focused on cutting up his food into little squares when a familiar voice pipes up.

“Hey, lovebirds!”

He looks up to find Ellie standing at their table, holding her tray and grinning.

“Not gonna interrupt your date, just wanted to say ‘hi.’ I’m eating with Cat and Dina,” she nods to the other side of the room.

“S’not a–”

“Have fun,” she chirps. Then she’s gone.

“Sorry,” he mutters, pushing his food around on his plate. “She’s…a lot.”

“How’s she dealing with all this?” Charlie asks, gesturing between them.

“Same way she deals with everythin’,” he snorts. “Bein’ a wiseass.”

Charlie looks over her shoulder to where Ellie is now laughing with her friends.

“How’d she end up with you, anyway? You’re a bit of an unlikely pair.”

“Made a promise to a friend,” he says roughly. “Then she…stuck.”

“The unwitting father,” she says, smiling a little, then frowns. “I used to wonder what kind of mother I’d be…before this. Now I just hope we make it out of this pregnancy alive.”

“You will,” he says quickly because he can’t bring himself to imagine the alternative. “And you’ll do fine. The first years, it’s mostly just about keepin’ ‘em alive…stop ‘em from doing stupid shit.”

He’s watching Ellie as he says this.

“Then you love ‘em and hope for the best,” he says softly. “Not much else to it.”

“Sounds like you speak from experience,” Charlie says curiously, and a pit of anxiety burrows deeper into his stomach. Sometimes he forgets she doesn’t know about Sarah.

“I took care of Tommy,” he explains, flushing. “Our folks weren’t, uh, around much. It was just me an’ him for a long time.”

She nods. She’s finished her pizza and he’s still moving his around on his plate. He pushes his tray over to her.

“Here. M’not hungry.”

“You sure?”

He nods, and she takes the tray and picks up one of the tiny pizza squares he’s carved out, popping it in her mouth.

“Well, she seems pretty happy, all things considered,” she says, chewing thoughtfully. “You must be doing something right.”

He winces, thinking of Ellie’s dead weight in his arms and the despair in her eyes when he couldn’t tell her the truth.

“M’not so sure about that.”

The moan drifts across the hall, and Joel is out of bed and at her door in an instant. He’s only half dressed, hasn’t even put a T-shirt on. Ellie hasn’t had one of her nightmares in months, but he’s operating on pure instinct, something drilled into him from the time Sarah was a baby. It’s a honed reflex; he does it without waking, without thinking.

He stops at the threshold, blinking away the sleep before he can knock on the door to his bedroom.

His bedroom. Ellie sleeps in the garage. Charlie is here now, not Ellie.

Another low moan, a gasp…a sigh.

His face gets hot as he realizes what’s happening. He stands frozen in the hall, her breathing carrying through the door. Panting, another moan. Arousal sends a tight knot of heat to his groin.

Fuck.

He turns on his heel, eager to put space between them, to give her some privacy, but his foot lands on the squeakiest floorboard, the one he’s been telling himself he needs to nail down before someone trips on the damn thing, and the sound is unmistakable and deafening.

All sounds from his bedroom cease with a tiny gasp.

Shit shit shit.

He’s fixed in place. There’s the sound of her soft footsteps on the other side of the door, the creak of the knob as it opens.

“Joel?”

He turns around, fists clenching at his sides. “Sorry…I thought you were, uh…sick.”

She’s watching him intently, silver eyes burning into his in a way that takes his voice. She’s dressed in a thin tank top and underwear, the fabric clinging to her skin, dewy with sweat from the heat of the summer, or from…other things.

His brain goes fuzzy.

The lacy edge of the tank top barely covers her, swollen as she is, breasts and belly normally covered by an oversized button-down. His eyes are drawn to the naked swell of her abdomen over the crease of her thigh.

Then she’s reaching toward him, and he catches her wrist before her palm makes contact with his bare chest, but just barely. The heat radiates off her and he feels every single degree of temperature.

“I…should go,” he murmurs, but his throat has gone dry and it comes out as a croak.

“Joel–”

He’s still holding her wrist when she moves toward him and presses her face to the center of his breastbone, her breath like a blessing on his skin. He can’t stop her, can’t turn her away, even as his hand holds her wrist steady and apart, the rest of her slides against him. Her forehead presses at the spot under his chin.

It’s so slow–so painfully, breathtakingly slow, this connection.

“We–” is all he can get out when he feels her lips on his chest, an open-mouthed kiss to his pec, and he shudders. Her tongue peeks out, lapping once at the tender skin, tasting him.

His other hand cups the back of her bare neck, intending to pull her away, but he’s entranced by the softness at her nape, the warmth of the skin, the way the muscles and bones shift under his palm. She has deftly extracted her wrist from his grip and is holding the hand that was meant to keep her at bay, fingers laced together and tucked between their bodies like a secret.

She tips her head back, waiting for the last vestiges of his control to break. It’s her eyes that do it, silver and shining with want…and sadness.

I’m here, I’m here, you can have this.

Oh, he really should turn away.

He kisses her like it’s the first time because he can’t remember the first time; only that it put them here. Maybe it hadn’t been the alcohol after all, because he’s lost himself to the first sip of her mouth. She tastes like chocolate, sweet and rich and deep, and he is so achingly hungry when she licks the taste of herself into him.

She’s pulling him, or maybe he’s pushing her, guiding her to the bed. His bed. Where she’d been touching herself not moments before–

He groans and separates himself from her just as she sinks onto the mattress.

“I need…I need a minute,” he gasps. He feels insane, primal, out of control. He needs this to just slow down and give him half a second to think, but he can’t fucking think because the blood is no longer answering to the part of his body that controls decision-making.

Charlie gets to her knees on the bed, swaying a little as she adjusts to her burgeoning center of gravity. “You asked how you could help. This is how. You can be with me.”

“Is that…really what you want?”

She blinks at him, slow and measured. Her voice shakes. “I want…I want to forget, just for a little bit. I want to…pretend.”

“I’m old enough t’be your father,” he grits out, even as he’s drawn to her, even as his hand finds hers and closes the distance. He watches their fingers entwine as if enchanted, her narrower ones sliding between his thick ones, the clutch of her nails skipping across the ridges of his palm.

“But you’re not my father,” she says evenly.

“The midwife said no–”

“It’s fine,” she soothes, placing his hand on her waist. She’s so fucking close and she smells like sex.

“Please.”

The catch in her voice dissolves what’s left of his restraint and his arm slips around her more fully, pulling her into him, his hand finding the soft skin under her tank top. He holds her close, feeling the thrum of his pulse at his throat when she kisses him there, licking at the scruff of his beard.

Then she’s urging him onto the bed, straddling his hips with her own, draping herself over him, her skin melting against his like warm honey. He feels feverish with want, with need, so lost in the sensations he’s denied himself for months that he might as well be drunk for all the control he has.

He nuzzles at one breast, cups the other, dark-tipped and heavy in his palm. She arches and whimpers when his thumb grazes a nipple, keens when he licks and licks and sucks it into his mouth, feels the pebbled skin tighten under his tongue.

She sits up on her knees, urges his boxers down over him before he fully realizes what she’s doing. He tries to still her with a hand to her hip.

“I don’t wanna hurt–”

“You won’t,” she says, and then she’s pulling her underwear aside and sinking on his length with a gasp and a whimper, fingers gripping his chest to steady herself as she rocks against him, taking him inside with slow, careful thrusts. A groan wrenches itself from his throat and he has to stop himself from thrusting up into her.

“There, there,” she whimpers, finding the right angle, pressing against him, rolling her hips until his cock is stroking and hitting that spot over and over. It doesn’t take long until she’s panting, whimpering, please, please, yes there, please, as she uses his body to climb higher.

He’s murmuring now, soft words of encouragement and praise and nonsense at her throat, her neck, wherever his mouth can reach. He doesn’t stop even when she kisses him, rumbling into her mouth, laying the words against her tongue with his own like an offering, yes, baby, just like that, so good, take it, take it, I got you, take it.

She comes with a final roll of her hips, pressing him inside her as deep as she can and grinding against him with a wail. He feels the pulse and flutter of her contractions around him, her eyes clamped shut, blunt nails digging into his shoulders. Her lip quivers and she lets out what sounds like a sob.

She slides off him with a whimper, tucking into the crook of his arm.

“Just…a sec,” she breathes.

He’s dizzy with her scent, her touch, still not entirely sure how they got here…again. But now her fingers are skating over his stomach and down, taking him in her hand and stroking him, watching his face.

“You don’t…have to,” he grits out, rolling to face her and edging backward to give her space. But she’s shimmying out of her underwear and hooking her leg over his hips, pulling him closer. She reaches between them to stroke his cock through her folds, then urges him inside with a sigh.

Pleasure sinks its hot tendrils into him as she rocks against him, her face pressed to his chest, soft panting at his collarbone. His free hand roams the landscape of her body, the hard swell of her womb pressed into the softness of his stomach, the weight of her breast in his hand.

He feels her fingers at the base of his cock, slicking herself, and his hand follows, covering hers.

“Show me,” he whispers.

She does, and he picks up her rhythm, swirling the pad of his finger around her swollen clit, yes yes, like that, more . He’s surprised when she comes again almost immediately, so sensitive, clamping tight and nipping at his clavicle. She grips his hip and grinds against him, forcing him to fuck her through it until he’s cresting.

“Gonna…soon…” he pants, trying to pull out, but she locks her leg tighter around him.

“Inside,” she whispers, grabbing at his jaw and pulling his mouth to hers.

He groans, pulling back to see her face. “You sure?”

“S’the worst that can happen?”

She looks down at them, at the swell just above where their bodies are joined, and then tilts her chin up and grins, a coy, fucked-out smirk that makes his cock ache and kick and throb inside her.

“Oh…oh fuck ,” he whispers, and then he’s pouring into her.

Her hand is splayed on his cheek when he comes to, her eyes closed, nose pressed to his jaw.

“Y’okay?”

“Mmm,” she sighs, a tiny, breathy little thing. She’s already half asleep.

“Should I—“

“Stay,” she murmurs, leg still locked around him.

He does.

[roseyreveries]

Far Away - 12

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Muggle!Reader Previous Part <- click! Summary: You wake up inside the Harry Potter universe without any explanation as to why you're there. Disclaimer: All characters are being aged up for PLOT (1st years are 15, 7th years are 21) but characters may act immature and childish in the beginning at times to keep their character development. Not accurate to the books or movies. CW: very short part Directory <- click!

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The fire in the Slytherin common room had burned low, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. The dormitory was quieter than usual, the usual late-night chatter replaced by an uneasy silence that had crept over the castle since the attacks began. I sat cross-legged on my bed, a book open in my lap, though I hadn’t turned a page in at least twenty minutes.

Lila threw herself onto her own bed dramatically, her emerald-green duvet puffing up as she landed. “This whole school’s gone mad,” she declared, tossing a pillow onto the floor for emphasis. “Bloody mental.”

I glanced up, feigning ignorance. “What are you talking about now?”

“The attacks,” Lila said, sitting up and gesturing wildly with her hands. “Muggle-borns getting Petrified left and right, professors acting like they’ve seen a ghost— well, besides the ones who actually have— and nobody’s doing anything about it.”

I hesitated, my stomach tightening. “What do you mean no one’s doing anything? The professors are trying.”

“Trying?” Lila scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Please. What’s Dumbledore doing? Making sure the bloody Christmas decorations are up to scratch? And Snape? He’s probably thrilled. The only one who seems even remotely worried is McGonagall.”

I looked back down at my book, forcing my voice to stay neutral. “You don’t know that. Maybe they’re working on it behind the scenes.”

Lila snorted. “Yeah, well, they’d better figure it out soon, because it’s not safe here anymore. And you know who I think is behind it?” She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing conspiratorially. “Malfoy.”

I blinked, my fingers tightening on the edges of my book. “Malfoy?”

“Who else?” Lila said, throwing her hands up. “He’s always going on about purebloods this, Mudbloods that. His family’s probably got some secret Death Eater playbook, and he’s finally putting it to use.”

My throat tightened. I knew Draco wasn’t behind the attacks— at least, not directly— but I couldn’t exactly say that. Instead, I shrugged. “That’s… a bit of a stretch, isn’t it? He’s awful, yeah, but you think he’s capable of Petrifying people?”

Lila raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I think… Draco talks a lot, but he doesn’t actually do much. He’s all bark, no bite.”

“Maybe,” Lila said, flopping back onto her bed. “But I wouldn’t put it past him. And even if he’s not doing it, he probably knows who is.”

I stayed quiet, my chest tight with the weight of what I couldn’t say. After a moment, Lila rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her hand.

“Speaking of Mudbloods,” Lila said, her tone softer now, “are you… alright?”

My head snapped up, my heart skipping a beat. “What?”

“You’re not exactly pureblood royalty,” Lila said with a smirk, though there was no malice in it. “I mean, you don’t talk about your family much, but… are you worried?”

I hesitated, my mind racing. “No,” I said finally. “I mean, I’m not Muggle-born. So… I guess I’m fine.”

“You’re not? I thought you were. That’s why you suck at magic.”

I rolled my eyes, “hard to believe, I know. But I’m not Muggle-born.”

Lila studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Good. Because if anyone messes with you, they’ll have me to deal with.”

I smiled faintly, my chest loosening slightly. “Thanks, Lila.”

“Don’t mention it,” Lila said, reaching for a chocolate frog from her nightstand. “But seriously, if Malfoy tries anything, I’ll hex him into next week.”

I laughed softly, but my thoughts remained heavy. As Lila chattered on about possible culprits and wild theories, I glanced out the window at the darkened grounds, the weight of my secret pressing down on me like the cold winter air.

If only you knew the truth, I thought.

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Read the next part here! Join my Taglist! @ferntv @Katie_kinz @malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy @rea-the-person @strbrrylmnadee @jazzywinter

[ohwolfling]

11 from the sultry ask prompts? 👀👀

Gale Dekarios Smut. NSFW. 1151 words. Content: light bondage, mage hand, invented spells, fem Tav.

From this prompt. #11 "You know, no one would believe me if I told them how much of a tease you are." You didn't request a blorbo lmao but I assumed Gale as that is what my legacy has become. Anyway, I may try to make this a fuller fic if folks enjoy.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

Tav is resting on a pile of pillows and furs at the foot of Gale’s bed. A rope binds her wrists to her calves. Her calves are wrapped ten fold and the rope’s threads creep upward and wrap tenfold once again around each thigh. It wraps doubled and firm around her waist, a thick twist traveling up her spine, then falling down over her shoulders. It crosses at her sternum and falls between her breasts, each breast wrapped completely by the rope. Nothing of the binding is painful but it is rigid in its limitations. She is posed back straightened, knees bent, legs open.

“As if you don’t know.”

Gale smiles.

The weight of the woven rope tickles with rousing energy. The crisp, cool thrill of a winter’s lightning. It was lesser, of course, but it was the same energy she would feel from the flicker of his orb, in the days when they were new to one another. It would ebb and glow with the intensity of his kisses, the strength of his grip on her hips, with every thrust into her. Whenever she placed her hand upon his chest in those moments, she would feel it. A storm of Weave and Man. Even lessened, less volatile, less hungry, less him, its spark along the rope was intoxicating.

“When are you getting over here,” Tav licks her lips as she asks, allowing her eyes to run the length of Gale’s body.

He makes a fine specimen, sitting on the chaise with one leg folded over, a book propped in his lap. His thin breeches pull taut against the muscle of his calves. The neck of his tunic is unlaced, drooping painfully low, seemingly inviting her in. She wants to run her nails down his chest, place kisses along his collar bones, feel his chest hair tickle her face as she travels down and down and down…

“Well, it’s hard to know,” he flips the pages of the book before him. “Still deciding what is to be done with you. The options are nearly limitless. I haven’t given this book extensive study before now, you know. Bit spontaneous of us, really. Besides, I have a lovely view.”

Gale looks up from his book and his eyes fleetingly flicker a vibrant violet. She feels the energy from the rope intensify, all too briefly. Her nipples harden with anticipation and the energy seems to vibrate into her core, so sudden and shocking that she moans.

Gale meets her moan with laughter and simply says, “Mmhmm.”

Tav writhes against the ropes and Gale watches. She can feel his eyes move down her neck, over her breasts. As his eyes trail down her stomach, she is struck with the sense of memory of his hair brushing against her skin in his many journeys downward. She feels herself become wetter for the thought and a keen ache meets her entire lower body as his eyes find her blooming.

His hands had not been on her since he bound her but a wizard of his renown had many ways of keeping her ready, squirming, desperate for him, even as he sat out of her reach. The rope had to be boiled and cooled to be softened, some sensual tradition from Kara-Tur per Gale’s playful but thorough explanation of the process when she’d found the ropes in the surprisingly varied box he kept just under his bed.

He had, of course, used that time to wind her up. Gale had pressed her against the counter tops and kissed her deeply along her neck and chest as the water came to boil. As the water did its work on the rope, he had unlaced and slipped off her breeches, his fingers tracing her lips until she began to open for him. One and then two fingers found the heat of her and he made her slick with wet. As the rope cooled, he traced his thumb in slow, inconsistent rhythms across her clitoris. Gale was precise, efficient, and took great pleasure in making her cum. The clumsy rhythm had been deliberate, painfully pleasurable but never fully committed.

She re-lived it now in her mind, as well as his hands upon her deftly threading, weaving, looping the rope around her. Tying it tightly, checking in with every knot (“it should be snug, darling, but no pain… never pain” “do you feel held, pleasurably of course?” “more pressure or less?”). It was as if he felt her pining for him in the moments before. Finally, he closes his book and makes his way to her, removing his shirt as he does so.

“Look at you,” Tav sighs, wanting so badly to reach up and tug at his paints, to run her hand down that tell tale trail of hair and feel his manhood harden in her hands.

Gale drops to his knees before her, just far enough to still be out of her reach in her current condition. She gives a small pout of discontent and he smiles, “Patience.”

With a steady motion of his left hand the familiar pale cerulean of Mage Hand manifests into view.

“May I?”

He already knows the answer, but Tav consents all the same.

Gale guides the hand to trace fingers along her mound, then down across her lips as she sighs. His eyes darken with an increasingly familiar ache. It makes her want him more. She knows it won’t make him stray from this path of driving her wild. No matter how badly he wants her, he wants to see her wild for him, out of her mind for him more.

The conjured hand slides finger on either side of her, spreading her open, and Gale licks his lips but makes no move towards her.

"You know, no one would believe me if I told them how much of a tease you are,” Tav laughed, half desperate, half thrilled.

“Oh, there’s so much I still mean to do to you.”

As the mage hand spreads her further open, still not entering her, Gale leans forward, placing a hand just against her. The conjuration moves to circle its fingers around her clit as Gale whispers, “Caladium,” and his hand presses to her opening. An unbelievable and potent warmth sends a hot jolt of pleasure through her.

Tav moans into his mouth as his tongue meets hers. Gale kisses her back deeply before pulling away. He watches the pleasure travel across her face as his fingers enter her.

“You’re going to need,” he plants a kiss along her neck, “so much,” another kiss down her breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth all too briefly, “patience.”

His fingers leave her and with an open palm he sends pulses of heat like thunder.

[spectrechosts]

Date Night - Chapter 2

More vampire smut! Quit your day job, have gay vampire sex.

Full Series

When Willow woke up, she wasn't alone.

Eyes, inches from her face. Glowing faintly in the murky darkness. Watching.

She leapt out of bed and nearly fell over herself grabbing her phone to shine a light on them.

"Ow." Grumbled Alice, pulling her blanket up to cover her face.

"Alice?" Willow said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Alice what are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood and it's almost sunrise. You gave me a key." She said, peeking back out of the blanket now that Willow had let the hand carrying her phone fall to her side. She looked like a grumpy cat, shiny eyes staring out of the shadows like that.

"Right, sorry. You startled me." Willow said, turning off the light and checking the time. Five twenty-three. Seven minutes until her alarm went off. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You can sleep here. I have to get ready for work now anyway, be sure to lock the door if you leave."

"Booo. Call in sick, come back to bed." Alice said, lazily reaching out towards her.

"I can't just call in sick whenever I don't want to work!" Willow said, batting her hand away. "If I did I'd never go at all!"

"Good! Fuck work." Alice said, propping herself up on one elbow. "I've never worked an honest day in my unlife. Or my life, before that!" She smiled smugly. "I was a pirate, you know."

"How exciting." Willow said. "Unfortunately, I have bills and piracy doesn't pay what it used to."

"I could pay your bills." Alice purred, her husky voice ever so convincing. "Come back to bed, pet. Your dark mistress commands it."

Willow rolled her eyes and climbed back into the bed. "If my dark mistress commands it." She said. "I can stay until my alarm actually goes off. But that's it."

"Of course."

Willow somehow doubted she'd be able to hold her to that, but as Alice got on top of her she found it incredibly difficult to care. The vampire hummed contentedly as she slid her hands up Willow's sides, pulling off the oversized shirt she wore to bed.

"Now, where does my favourite slut need more bites today?" She mused, eyes raking over Willow's body hungrily.

"Haven't you marked me up enough?" Willow asked, already knowing the answer. Her shoulders were covered with bites, Alice's preferred spot to sink her teeth in. It was becoming difficult to dress for the weather, there were enough that the sleeves of a T-shirt wouldn't cover them. More bites were peppered down her torso, on her breasts, her stomach, it was immediately apparent looking at her what kinds of things she had been getting up to.

"Never, pet. I need to make sure you remember who you belong to." Alice said, before trailing kisses down her body.

"I think-"

Kiss.

"-you-"

Kiss.

"-need a bite-"

Kiss.

"-riiiiiiiiight-"

Kiss.

"-here." Alice said, settling between Willow's legs and grazing the inside of her thigh with her fangs. "Don't you think so, pet?"

Willow nodded frantically, desperately willing her alarm to stay silent.

"Words, pet."

"Please!" She whined, and Alice bit down hard. Willow whimpered and squirmed until she let go, gasping from the pain.

"There." Alice said, licking up the blood beading where she had broken Willow's smooth skin. "That'll leave a pretty mark." She dragged her tongue inwards, smearing blood and saliva up Willow's thigh as she brought her mouth to the front of Willow's panties, gently kissing her through the fabric.

Willow squeaked softly, her head tilting back into her pillow. Alice pulled her underwear down and gave her pussy a long, slow lick, and she moaned, needy. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the sensations Alice was lavishing upon her, it wouldn't take much, she-

Her alarm chirped at her, shrill and annoying.

"Fffuck-" She whined. She opened her eyes, and Alice looked at her expectantly. She grabbed her phone and silenced the alarm, and thought for a long moment. "Mmmmfuck it." She gestured for Alice to stop, and dialed her job.

"brrrrr-brrrr-brr- You've reached Coffee Sloth! This is Steve, how may I help you?"

"Hi-IIEEE-"

Alice did not stop, and instead chose that moment to suck on her clit and make her squeal. Willow glared at her and tried to play it off.

"HI. This is Willow, I'm not ffffffff-feeling well, I can't come in."

She bit down on her knuckle to stifle a moan.

"Willow, this is the third time this month. When someone doesn't take their responsibilities as a member of the Coffee Sloth family seriously, it makes things harder for all of us."

Fucking Steve. Willow hated that guy.

"I-I know, I'm sorry."

Alice rolled her eyes.

"It's important that everyone here wants to be a member of the Coffee Sloth family. Do you?"

"Y-Yess, I do."

She covered her mouth and held the phone at arms length as Alice drew another squeal out of her. It didn't help that having to hide what she was doing made it feel way more intense. She brought her phone back to her ear.

"-times it doesn't seem like you do, Willow."

"Nno I do, I do. I'm just sick."

"…You do sound weird. But if you don't bring a doctor's note tomorrow, we're going to have to talk about your future here. This is becoming a pattern with you, Willow."

"Yuh-yeah, I understand sir." Fucking dickhead, it's not like he gave his ~family~ paid sick leave.

Alice tapped her leg, and she looked down at her.

Quit, she mouthed.

Willow shook her head. She, she needed this job. She had expenses, she couldn't impose on Alice and Senna like that.

"You know I want to see you succeed, but I can't help you if you don't help me."

She needed this awful, minimum wage job.

"You gotta give 110% every day, not just when you feel like it."

With an annoying boss she hated.

"Because if you don't, you're letting your family down, Willow."

"Fffffuck you, Steve."

"Excuse me!?"

Alice sank her fingers inside her, clearly very pleased with that response. If Steve said anything else, Willow wasn't paying attention. She had wanted to tell him off for months, she was in fucking heaven, it took all her willpower to not moan on the call.

"I-I quit!" She said, giddy. "Fuck you, fuck all your family bullshit about people you don't pay a living wage." She shoved her fist in her mouth to muffle her pleased sounds. Alice was going at her hard, pumping her fingers in and out while she lapped at her clit.

"Willow! You can't quit, who will cover your shifts? Give me two weeks, at least-"

"Hang up on him unless you want him to hear you scream my name, pet." Alice whispered, and Willow knew from the look in her eyes and the rapidly building tension in her core that she fucking meant it.

"I-I don't care! I quit!" She cried, the pleasure quickly becoming too much for her.

"Willow-"

She hung up and tossed her phone aside so hard it bounced off the wall, before burying her hands in Alice's hair.

"Fuck! Alice!!!" She squealed as she came, her clit throbbing in Alice's mouth as she mercilessly sucked on it while Willow writhed and moaned.

"Good giiiiiirl." Alice cooed once Willow stopped shaking.

"Ohhhh my god." Willow said, covering her face and giggling. "Holy shit that felt amazing."

"It looked like it. Now-" Alice said, getting up on her knees and straddling Willow's face. "Why don't you get started at your new job, keeping your mistresses satisfied?"

Willow looked up at her, reverent. This was a job she could get behind.

"Yes mistress."

[finn-m-corvex]

Falling Sleeves

I'm not super happy with the title, but that's okay! This is the second of the stories voted on by the poll, here in the afternoon just like I promised (for me, anyway). I had a lot of fun with this one, and for anyone that managed to read my hoodie headcanons before they got yeeted off the face of the earth there are a lot of little easter eggs in here :). Enjoy, everybody!

Words: 4.3k

No TWs! Unless you don't like bacon pancakes, in which case I'm sorry for your loss.

It was a very lazy morning in the monastery when Cole jolted awake, gasping for air as the sensation of falling washed over him. He grabbed at the sheets, twisting them up in his hands to try and ground himself as his hand went to scrabble at his shirt. The awful feeling was gone only a minute later, but the remnants of his nightmare still clawed at his chest as he struggled to take a deep breath. Finally settling down, Cole sat up and grabbed the hoodie sitting on his bedpost, frowning at the large splotches of paint across the front and throiwng it into the laundry bin.

He tred over the art supplies littering his floor from the night before, picking up his finished canvases and propping them up against his dresser one by one; it always helped him to put things in order after he had a bad dream. Staying up late last night to paint with Lloyd may not have been one of his smartest ideas, but it was the best way he could think to assure his little brother that yes, Cole was here and yes, he was alive.

Even though he very nearly wasn’t.

Almost as if it could hear him, his ribcage started aching under the bandages wrapped generously around his torso, and Cole grimaced when his shirt brushed against the smattering of bruises across his back. Zane had offered to stay with him and ice the bruises overnight, but Cole had declined since he didn’t want to burden his brother. Maybe he should’ve taken the nindroid up on his offer.

“Hoodies never hurt anybody,” Cole mumbled, opening his top drawer to grab one; it would do more than enough to hide the injuries. There were quite a few missing, but that was par for the course. Cole could’ve sworn he just did laundry the other day though.

Grabbing one of his favorites, a dark blue one with ‘KISS THE COLE’ in white letters across the front, Cole put it on as carefully as he could. He still managed to aggravate his injuries somehow, wincing, but they still felt better than they had around a week ago. Still, he should probably see somebody about changing the bandages at the very least.

Before he could think about leaving the room, Nya threw open his door, tossing something onto his bed and then flopping down on top of it. Cole raised an eyebrow at the hoodie she was wearing; it was one of his, a light blue one with various designs in hot pink across the front. He knew for a fact that he just ran that particular hoodie through the wash before the whole Oni debacle. At least he had located one of his missing garments.

“Nya?” he asked, and all she did was groan in response. Now that he was looking, he noticed how wet her hair was, and realized that she had shown up right after she had taken a shower. “Did you need something?”

“Can you help me with my hair?” Nya asked, muffled against his comforter. Eyebrows rising to his hairline, Cole smiled to himself, shaking his head as he walked back to his bed and sat at the top on his pillow

“Of course I can. Come on up here.”

Without hesitating Nya scrambled up to make herself comfortable, sitting between his legs and handing Cole her brush and hair products. Cole grabbed one of the spare rubberbands on his side table that he used for his own hair and got to work.

The time passed in silence, Cole working through her hair while Nya leaned against his propped up knee and scrolled through her feeds. In a way it was the most grounded Cole had felt since that awful day, his feet firmly on the ground of the present rather than dangling in the air of what could’ve been. Having his sister here brought him a sense of peace that he wasn’t sure he would feel for quite some time, and Cole had a suspicious feeling that it was the same case for her. Nya hadn’t asked him to do her hair in years after he taught her how to care for it as she was growing it out, and if he was being totally honest he had missed doing this with her.

Maybe that was why he took his time with it, even though he had the skills to make it happen much quicker.

“There,” he said quietly, putting the brush down and running his fingers through it to check for any hidden knots, listening to her hum of contentment. Nya snuggled closer, perfectly happy with her spot against his chest. “Do you want me to do anything special with it?”

“Can you braid it, please?” Nya asked, and Cole felt his heart swell with emotion.

“Always,” he replied easily, and he let his mind wander as he worked through the repetitive motions. Her hair really has gotten longer, he thought, and his heart ached when he looked for too long at the flowing black locks. They reminded him of his mom’s hair.

Mom. 

Now there was something he hadn’t thought about for a while. Actually, Cole thought about her at least once a day, but it had been some time since he had let himself get lost down memory lane, staring up at the old house on the end of the street that held every memory he had of his long-gone mother. He would linger there on the sidewalk, watching as the lights grew dimmer and dimmer as his memories became more recent, until finally the porchlight would flicker and flash before turning off entirely. Cole could never make himself stay for more than five minutes after the light went out, continuing to walk down the sidewalk to look at the bitter memories that followed.

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Nya joked, hugging his arm close to her. Cole snorted, not pausing in his movements.

“Really? How do you know that?”

“I’ve been with Jay for years,” Nya said, “it’s practically given me telepathy at this point. Now what are you thinking so hard about?”

He hummed to himself, debating on how much he wanted to tell her. “Your hair, it…it reminds me of Mom’s.”

Everything went quiet, but Cole wasn’t afraid of it becoming awkward. He knew that Nya was just gathering her thoughts, trying to think through her next steps as carefully as she could. “Is that a good thing?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Cole asked, genuinely curious, and Nya sighed.

“I-I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want to make you sad.”

“I’m not sad when I think about my mom, Nya,” Cole said patiently, tying the rubberband around the end of the braid. It wasn’t his prettiest work, but it would do for right now. “Honestly. It actually makes me pretty happy, she would’ve loved to meet you.”

She would’ve loved to meet all of them, really, and Cole knew that for a fact.

Part of him had spent the past week thinking about what would’ve happened if he had actually perished in the fall, if he would’ve gotten to see his mom again. Would he have been happy to see her? Or her to see him? Would she be disappointed that he had died the way he had, or would she just have been happy that it was a quick way to go? Would she have known his friends, or what happened between him and Dad?

Cole hoped that she didn’t know what happened between him and Dad.

“For what it’s worth, I would’ve liked to meet her too,” Nya said, and Cole kissed the back of her head as a response; he had to stay in the present, and not dwell on the what-if’s. He was here, and he was alive, and that was enough. They didn’t say anything after that, Cole pulling out his phone and looking through Chirp to pass the time while Nya continued to scroll through her various media; from what Cole could tell, she was currently looking at pictures of dragonflies, for whatever reason.

For as much as she liked to say that Jay was the only one with ADHD in their relationship, Cole would beg to differ.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself despite the lack of social interaction. Both he and Nya were people who liked to spend time with people in the same space, sometimes talking but more than happy to just soak up the others’ presence in the room. Cole couldn’t remember the last time Nya and him had done this, laying down together on his bed and doing nothing but enjoying the other’s company.

Until he heard a large growl from Nya’s stomach.

The water ninja blushed, chuckling sheepishly. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little hungry.”

“Let’s go see if anyone’s making breakfast,” Cole suggested, even though neither of them made any movement to get up. He was extremely comfortable in his current position, except his bottomless pit for a stomach was also starting to rumble.

“C’mon Nya,” he chuckled, gently pushing her off and watching her flop onto the bed with a forced groan. Why did he have such dramatic siblings? “Do you want me to carry you?”

Nya held out her arms without hesitation, and Cole was quick to hook his arms under her shoulders and lift, feeling her legs wrap around him like a teddybear. He moved his arms to be around her waist instead, shivering from her warm breath ghosting over the side of his neck. She hummed contently, shuffling around before sighing.

“Jay’s right,” she said, “this is pretty comfy.”

“Why do you think I do it for him all the time?” Cole started walking towards the kitchen, already feeling Nya’s weight start to drag on his limbs. His ribs ached in protest, and his shoulders were screaming, but dammit his little sister wanted to be carried and he was going to carry her. The walk down the hall wasn’t very long, thankfully, but Cole could already feel sweat starting to gather on his back under his hoodie. Nya tapped her fingers along his back in a familiar rhythm, and Cole focused on the tip-tap-tip-tap that he knew so well from Jay. They really were made for each other.

Initially, he was planning on carrying Nya directly into the kitchen and dropping her off at the table, but Cole had to stop and gape at the scene in the living room.

Kai and Jay were playing one of the Fist to Face games, the second edition maybe, both of them remarkably quiet with their brows furrowed in concentration. Lloyd was nestled into Kai’s side, which is probably why the fire ninja was sitting down instead of jumping around, and the green ninja’s eyes flicked from the TV to his phone; he must’ve been going through his Chirp. Jay had his weighted blanket across his legs, his headphones settled around his neck and hair still messy from sleep. Cole resisted the sudden urge to run his fingers through his best friend’s curls, instead staying stone-still in the doorway,

All three of them were wearing his hoodies.

Was that where all of his hoodies had gone?!

Cole couldn’t even bring himself to be mad about it, especially when how large Lloyd’s black one with a green skull was on him, or how Kai had the hood of his maroon one with a flaming guitar pulled over his head to make his hair look ridiculous, or the way Jay was constantly pushing up the sleeves to his elbows and scrunching up the blue water designs that Cole had painted on with Nya one day.

Instead of saying anything, Cole just walked to the couch, gently dropping Nya into the spot between Kai and Jay. Almost no time had passed before she had thrown her legs over Kai’s lap and into Lloyd’s, putting her head into Jay’s lap just as the blue ninja grabbed a pillow to put under her head. The scene now looked even more bizarre with a fourth hoodie thrown into the mix, but Cole only shook his head and walked into the kitchen.

Only to be greeted by both Zane and Pixal wearing one of his hoodies each.

Someone had some explaining to do.

Zane was mixing up some pancake batter, quietly singing to himself as he was careful to not spill anything on Cole’s Christmas hoodie, the only white one in his collection. Pixal grabbed some bacon out of their fridge, absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeves of the royal purple hoodie that he had gotten on his last trip to the local Goodwill. Could he have a single hoodie for even a week before they got stolen?

Noticing him standing there, Zane turned around and gave him a smile. “Good morning, Cole. How are you?”

Staring, Cole finally snapped to his senses once Pixal started looking at him too. “Oh, I’m okay. Didn’t sleep super well though. How are you?”

Pixal frowned. “Perhaps you should go back and get some rest.”

“I’ll be okay, really,” Cole insisted, leaning against the doorframe and stuffing his hands into his pockets to try and hide their trembling from carrying his sister. He was pretty sure that Zane already noticed. “You guys making pancakes?”

“Yes,” Zane said, mixing it up some more. “Jay requested that we try mixing bacon in the batter this time.”

His stomach growled at the mention of bacon, and Cole had to admit that his best friend was a genius and a godsend. “That sounds amazing.”

“We shall see,” Pixal said, eyeing up the bacon with a look of apprehension. “I would trust Jay with my life, but you must admit that he has a less-than-stellar streak when it comes to making dishes.”

“Maybe, but I promise that you’ll like it more than you think you will, Pix,” Cole said, and he hoped to the First Master that he was right. He hated breaking promises. The nindroids shared a look of skepticism before turning back to their respective tasks, Pixal starting to fry up the bacon while Zane mixed another bowl of batter. Cole smelled the meat cooking and had to hold back from letting out a moan at the heavenly scent, instead watching from the doorway as quietly as he could.

“Did you need anything else, Cole?” Zane asked, startling Cole. He had spaced up pretty hard after smelling the bacon. “A drink, perhaps? Breakfast will not be ready for a while.”

“Why are you both wearing my hoodies?” Cole blurted out, and he winced internally at how blunt it was. At least it got his point across.

Zane paused, looking down at his torso in confusion before glancing at Pixal. Pixal did the same thing, eyebrows raising when she saw that yes, her and Zane were both wearing the earth ninja’s hoodies.

“I-I did not realize,” Zane said, meeting Cole’s eyes with a sheepish expression. “Is it a problem? I would be more than happy to change if it is bothering you-”

“No! No, Zane,” Cole hurried to say, seeing the way his brother and sister’s faces were falling with the thought of having to take off the hoodies. There was something deeper going on here. “Please keep wearing them, I was just curious. I don’t mind, seriously.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Cole assured, walking up and giving his brother a big hug. The smell of fresh snow wafted up into his nose as Zane hugged back, and Cole’s chest filled with warmth at how grounding his brother’s embrace was. It always had been and always would be.

There was a loud crash from the living room followed by shouting, and Cole sighed. “I better go check on them. Good luck with breakfast, you two.”

“I do not need luck,” Pixal said good-naturedly, accepting the earth ninja’s quick embrace with a small smile, “but I do need the eggs, if you would be so kind?”

“Anything for you, Pix,” Cole said, going to the fridge and taking out the carton, leaving it on the counter next to the stove for her. The sounds from the living room died down, but Cole still thought that it would be in everyone’s best interest if he checked in, just to be on the safe side.

He didn’t need to worry, as the sounds were just coming from the TV; it looked like his brothers had gotten bored with the game and had put a movie on instead. Belatedly, Cole realized that it was one of his favorite movies, and one that he normally would’ve had to beg and trade chores for. This was suspicious.

Jay had leaned over to rest his head on Kai’s shoulder, his fingers threaded through Nya’s now undone braid (there went all of his hard work) and blue eyes drooping downwards. Kai looked like he was the only one invested in the movie, as Nya and Lloyd both looked like they had started dozing together on the couch. Cole did his best to sit down on Jay’s other side without waking anyone up, leaning against the arm of the couch and bringing one of his legs up to sit on Kai’s thigh and box Nya in. He was more than prepared for Jay to switch sides, the blue ninja plopping his head back onto Cole’s chest and throwing his arms up and over the ravenette’s shoulders. The three of them looked like dominoes that had been knocked over, and Cole smiled as his arms settled around Jay’s torso without even having to think about it.

“Hey Rocky,” Jay murmured, making a pleased sound when Cole leaned down to kiss his forehead. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Bluebell,” Cole replied easily, ignoring the throbbing of his ribs in favor of holding his best friend. “You?”

“Sleepy, but Zane said no coffee this morning,” Jay’s jaw cracked in a huge yawn that had Cole snickering. Jay had definitely been consuming too much of the stuff recently to keep working through the night, so he wasn’t surprised that the nindroid had finally put his foot down.

“Yikes, guess that’s pretty bad for you guys, huh?”

Jay shrugged. “It’s fine, just means more naps with you, right?”

“You know it, Sparky.” Cole said. He asked Kai for one of the pillows at the other end of the couch for his back, and to his surprise Lloyd was the one who tossed it to him. Guess Greenbean wasn’t so asleep after all.

Mulling the same question he had asked Zane and Pixal over in his head, Cole’s curiosity eventually won out, and he finally fluffed up the pillow enough just when Jay grabbed his hand and tugged it to his hair. Cole shook his own head fondly, starting to run his hand through his brother’s curly locks and scratching his scalp.

“Is there any reason why all four of you are wearing my hoodies?” he asked innocently, twirling one of Jay’s curls around his finger. All four of them turned to look at him, and then down at what they were wearing, and Cole watched as each of his siblings’ faces flushed at how easily they had been caught red-handed; Cole knew that they didn’t commit any crimes though.

Jay started playing with the fingers on his other hand that had been splayed across his chest. “We-we missed you.”

Missed him? He had been there the whole time!

“I was just in the bedroom,” Cole said, confused. What was this about?

“Except it wasn’t that long ago when you weren’t,” Lloyd said quietly, and oh.

Oh.

They were scared. Scared of waking up and walking into the living room or the kitchen or even his bedroom and finding all of it empty. Cole felt the tears sting at his eyes, but he was quick to blink them back in favor of pressing another kiss to Jay’s head and nudging Kai’s leg with his foot to reach Lloyd. “Hey now, I’m here. I’m okay. Nothing to worry about, see?”

“Everything to worry about is more like it,” Jay grumbled, and Cole tugged the hood over the blue ninja’s head with a small smile.

“You’re awfully grouchy today,” Cole commented. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Didn’t get good sleep,” Jay murmured. “I was lonely.”

“But you had Nya?” Cole said, once again very confused.

“I didn’t want Nya, I wanted you.” Jay snuggled closer, Nya making a combined noise of protest and offense as he shifted. Cole was worried that she was going to douse them both, but the water ninja just turned over on her other side. 

“I told you to go sleep with him instead,” Nya grumbled, only awake for a minute or so before she was snoring away. “So ti’s your own damn fault you didn’t sleep.

“Of course dear, whatever you say.” Jay’s hand tangled in her hair, a lovesick grin on his face that used to make Cole’s stomach turn, but now he understood it. Sighing, he cuddled closer to Cole’s chest and nudged his ribs. “But we’re all staying right here until I fill my cuddle quota.”

“Really? Is there such a thing as a filled Jay cuddle quota?” Cole quipped, and Jay made a fake sound of annoyance, shutting his eyes and beginning to doze. He heard sizzling from the kitchen and took a whiff, smelling the pancakes as they started cooking. Breakfast would be ready soon.

Kai yawned, stretching his arms above his head and popping his shoulders. “This movie isn’t that bad, actually.”

“That’s what I keep telling you guys!” Cole said as loudly as he dared, not trying to wake Jay up right after he fell asleep. “We should watch it more often.”

“Now I don’t know about that,” Kai ruffled Lloyd’s hair, smiling so Cole knew that he was joking, even if Cole could tell already. “Are you comfortable over there?”

Cole yawned as he thought about it. Sure, his ribs were protesting a tiny bit, and the bruises on his torso definitely weren’t being done any favors, but he couldn’t think of anywhere he would rather be than right here with his family. “Never better.”

And those words had never been truer than when Zane and Pixal brought out the food a few minutes later, the smell quickly rousing Jay and Nya as they started fighting over who would have the first bite. They both looked absolutely betrayed when Zane gave the first bite to Pixal, and Jay was only placated when Zane told him that it was to make sure if Pixal actually liked bacon pancakes or not.

Pixal pushed the food around in her mouth with a concentrating look on her face, finally swallowing. Her face cleared, and all six of them watched as her face lit up in delight. “It’s delicious!”

Jay gave a victorious whoop, and now suddenly there were three people clambering for the first plate. Cole was prepared to patiently wait his turn like always, maybe cracking a joke about how the kids had to be fed first, but to his surprise Zane handed him the first plate. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten first plate.

“Thanks, Zane!” he called to the ice ninja as he went back to the kitchen to grab more plates. The tears came stinging at his eyes once again, and Cole pushed them away just as quickly as the first time.

He playfully growled at Jay, who was immediately in his space and trying to snatch his food. “Jay! Get your own!”

“I normally get the first plate!”

“Well you didn’t this time! If you want food so bad then go get your own!”

“But I’m all cozy,” Jay whined, and Cole felt his heart squeezing when he saw the blue ninja pouting. Dammit, Jay knew not to break out the puppy dog eyes with him.

Just as Cole was about to cave, Zane the savior came back with plenty more plates, and Cole watched as Jay dug into his pancakes with the ferocity of a starving animal. He was glad, honestly; it took a couple days after the Oni invasion for Jay to start eating properly again, but Cole was always keeping a close eye to be on the safe side. It was his job as Jay’s best friend and older brother.

And soon enough everything was as it should have been: Kai and Lloyd bickering over the syrup while Zane and Pixal watched from the other side of the couch, Nya snatching pieces of Jay’s pancakes while he wasn’t looking while Jay failed to snatch any of Cole’s. The scene was so familiar, so soothing, and before he could stop them the tears started falling down his face.

He could’ve missed this. He would’ve missed this. And for what? To tell his mom something that he was sure she already knew?

“Hey,” Jay whispered, and Cole jumped when he felt the blue ninja’s thumb swipe across his cheek, “everything okay? Why are you crying?”

Cole let his fork clatter to the plate, reaching up and wiping away the tears with his sleeve. He looked over to see everyone looking at him with concern, Zane and Kai on the verge of getting up with the others close behind. Giving them a watery smile, Cole bumped against Jay’s side.

“I’m okay,” he said honestly, because even though he was feeling a lot right now everything he was feeling was so so good, “I just love you guys, you know that? I love you guys so much.”

“We love you too, brother,” Zane said softly, Kai and Lloyd echoing his sentiment. Cole was waiting to hear Jay say it too when a body collided with his, and his arms came up to hug Jay on instinct. The blue ninja’s own tears were leaking into his hoodie, and Cole freed one of his arms to catch Nya as she came barreling into him too. Both of their movements made his injuries burn with pain, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care.

Because First Master, it felt so good to be home.

[daddysfangirls-dc]

The Arrangement

CH 15 - Stephanie Brown

Damian Wayne x OC! Female

Prev | Next

Syn wasn't ashamed to admit that she had no idea how to approach Stephanie Brown. She was outgoing, upbeat, headstrong, and energetic—all good qualities; she didn't dislike Stephanie; she was just very busy. Syn had no clue how to get to her. She was so friendly there was no part in her life that she was alone, at least not at the moment she felt appropriate to intrude on.

Thank the Heavens for Cassandra. Here she stood in Cassandra's Studio apartment, ready for a sleepover (her first sleepover).

"Hey, Hey, - oh."

"I hope you don't mind. Cassandra invited me to join. I - "

"Is this my date?" Stephanie asked, dropping her bag. " Oh my god, it is! I'm so excited," she ran around the couch and hugged her eagerly. " This is going to be so much fun".

Energetic. 

"I must confess I've never had a sleepover before," Syn said as she sat her on the couch. Cassandra came with drinks. 

"We've got so much to do. Snacks, movies, facemasks, and boys or, in your case, fiance."

Energetic indeed.

-

Two hours later, Syn found herself sitting on the couch, legs and hands propped up, face mask, and being fed cookies.

" This mask is supposed to moisturize your skin and give it a glow. And Damian will love the color green on your nails." He wouldn't. He wouldn't hate it, but he wouldn't favor it. He always preferred her in red. Or he did? She wasn't going to tell them that. 

"The purple and black suit you very well."

"The glittered brings out the mischief in my eyes." Stephanie posed with her fingers next to her eyes. They laughed. " Enough about nails. It's time for boy talk. Tell us about Damian." Stephanie was wiggling her eyebrows and leaning into her. Cassandra saved her personal space by pushing her away with her foot. 

"Um, what would you like to know?"

"What was he like when you first got together? Doubt he was romantic."

"When we were first arranged, he did not think I was worthy. But I was not chosen for my worth. My potential is what kept me there." Syn said she looked at nails. " Honestly, he cared very little for me in the beginning. I was just another servant, and I was beneath him like everyone else. Probably deeper...What about you and your relationship? I know you had a relationship with Drake at some point. How did that become?"

Stephanie groaned, throwing her head back. Syn would have thought she said something wrong it not for cassandra giggling. She shoved her face into the nearest pillow for a few seconds. "Damian  told you?

"No, it was in Tim and your files."

"Wait, what?!" both girls snapped up, looking at her. 

"Well, you dated Robin. All romantic partners are noted, especially the long-term ones and those who know your nightlife. And you became a vigilante yourself as being clue master's daughter; that alone got your own personal file. So far, no relation against your romantic partners has been made. I'm sorry." Syn said, and seeing the emotions that crossed Stephanie's face, she truly felt sorry. Invading one's privacy was never nice.

"You guys know everything." She took note that she was no longer energetic. Sober. 

"Do you know about-"

"Yes," she didn't let her finish. She knew what she was talking about. She knew. "Talia, it was around the time of Damian. She was still soft. She got a good home. Talia made sure of it."  Steph just nodded, tears gathered in her eyes. She got up and went out the fire escape.

Cass and Syn watched as she sat, shoulder shaking. They left her alone, giving her a moment to weep. When she steps back inside the conversation is forgotten and the tear streams in her mask are ignored.

"What are your plans for the future?" she asked, taking the bowl of grapes Cass offered. " I know you've just bought a house." Cass ignored the scathing glare she was receiving for a sequence pillow, a pretty pillow.

"Honestly, we've been mostly playing it by ear. The goal is marriage, and there are milestones to be made, but in between, there is no true plan."

"Winging it. I like that." Syn noticed how toned down Steph was now but did not mention it. 

"Why did you stay? Why didn't you go?" she asked. " He gave you a chance, and you had a chance to escape all this. You left, explored the world, and met new people. Why's you come back? Why didn't you go?"

"I... I traveled, saw all I could, and halfway through it, I realized two things. 1) I was lonely, and 2) Damian never left my mind. I missed him. He was in this, so I came back to it." Syn shrugged.

The night was sober after that. They washed their face, made hot chocolate, and started a legally blonde marathon. The rest of the night was spent watching movies, eating snacks, and laughing the pain away.

Tonight, Syn learned that everything in Stephanie Brown's files was correct. She was outgoing, upbeat, headstrong, and energetic. But she was also soft and kind-hearted. She wasn't as impulsive as most thought her to be. She was smart and quick when thinking about an action. Stephanie Brown was everything they said and so much more. 

"Thank you," she sighed to Cass. She just nodded. 

-

-

-

The one thing I hate about Stephanie Browns character is how everyone seems to forget that she had a child. She was pregnant, gave birth, and put her baby up for adoption.

It is very rare that her child is mention in fanon. Which I find sad because it is a big part of her origin story. She got pregnant then started dating Robin who , along side batman, helped her give birth and put them up for adoption.

One would think the Fanfon would expand on it.

- -

I have a request. If you can recommend a fanfiction that expands or mentions Stephanie Brown's pregnancy and/or child?