#the weather is dark and cold so I don't feel happy going out but I also cannot stay at home for the next month

[ancha-aus]

Yes HI!! I am back!! With words!!!!!

First thing i need to address. i love the fact that N just lives in the fucking basement. That is TOO funny and fitting.

Because it makes sense lore wise as this is The Maskmaker. Something the rroyal family is guarding and holds highly. the fact the wood used is connected to the apple ritual?! Even more reason.

But the idea that there is just a person in the basement is so funny.

Yeah. you turn to the left and get to the dungeon. but you go down the hall and to the right and you find the maskmaker. That is too funny on so many levels

Okay but the detail that Nightmare can't feel the cold anymore is delicious. Just.there is somehting so human about feeling warm adn cold and nightmare just always feeling lukewarm. But still being able to feel the warmth and cold of others.

It means even more that nightmare takes care to make sure that ccino has weather fitting clothes, ESPECIALLY with the fact that the winters were gone and didn't come back until after nim is gone.

and the detail that ccino gave him a cloak!! special and custom made! hell maybe he even made it himself because he didn't have time yet to go order one, between his 101 duties.

nd the fact that while the cloak doesnt'truly make him warm as he can't be warm. the fact it does ground him. that it is a way for him to feel secure and just safe!! God that is so good Spot!! It is so good!!!

I love the fact that Nim took the twins down there to meet the maskmaker when they weree young. and the maskmaker just being casual about alreayd knowing their measurements. You just KNOW that nim went through something similar when she was young. which means. that it is tradition to take the young twins to meet the mask maker. Maybe it is to showcase that the maskmaker is pwoerful and special? important and in need to keep in the castle and secure.

I love love love that the effect of the tree is sitll noticeable here!! That being down here, near some of the source of the wood of the tree. near the source of this old spirit. That it still effects the people. and it would especially affect the ruling king as they ate the apple to gain those powers. making them extra receptive to this effect!!

Ngihtmare wanting to hide and cry. For just a moment in that space that little kid came out again. that little kid who just wanted to be safe and help hihs brother.

and then he pushes through because this is for a reason! He has his rights here! But most importantly. This is the least that ccino earns and damnit Nightmare is not going to let him be scared away.

The fact that the old maskmaker had looked with grief at nightmare. Knowing that nightmare would ahve died. Also i don't know if this is on purpose but the dark wood being used? the fact that nim didn't want nightmare to have a mask of the special wood. That is such a big deal. Yet it having been made with love and attention and so much care. that nightmare loved it, and still loves it.

And then the reveal of it being N!!

and nightmares FIRST thought being that N is an intruder. and he is so annoyed. not because of the fake being in the castle or even feeling afraid that someone broke in. just annoyed because he had plans and he wanted to get ccino his mask!!

And then it turns out that N IS the maskmaker.

and the fact that nightmare ASKS who N is. the fact he asks why there is a new maskmaker. and N being so happy because Nightmare is the FIRST king to ask about them!! that is a big deal and nightamre isn't even aware how big of a deal this is! I love that.

and i love how N's emotions are just wave upon wave upon wave of intense feelings. because N has been around the source of the tree's wood for so long now. They have been longterm exposed and even if it is part of her personality being near the last bits of the tree can't be helping them! also the fact she doesn't truly care what nightmare calls her. That is such a neat detail!

(okay side note. I got IDEAS about the line about the many different type of woods. and i understand that it are imported woods and stuff. but!! But!!!I got ideas and I will get back to that wiht an ask eventually because i need to make bad sketches to best explain!! but i swear i will come back to this and you can call me out and ask me about it in case it takes long!!)

okay but the rage tha tnightmare immediantly felt when N implied the mask was for a consort. later the fact that nightmare isn't even surprised that N knew who Ccino was. the fact nightmare immediantly figured that Nim would have taken Ccino down here to make sure the maskmakers are prepared in case Dream loves Ccino as much as Nim expects.

I don't know what is better. the fact that N is just snooping around and found out that way. Nim taking Ccino down here to show him off (also got thoughts about the fact that nim took a young skeelton which she KNEW would eventually grow into HER type as gift to her son. you think she ever watches the slowly becoming adult ccino and was disappointed her health was already declining? thoughts to discuss later.) OR! a secret third option. the carvers are right by the wood of the tree. the tree that is fond of ccino. maybe the tree just shared their emotions and feelings about ccino to them. which is protect. respect. special.

Just. options!

I love the process of the mask making?! not just the form or shape of the mask that is expected (though N asks for it at first so maybe most king's just told them what they wanted and expected the maks makers to make it work?) but when N sees that ngihtmare is very agaisnt it and tells him for who it is and why he wants one before anything else they go for the traditional way. which is to get a feeling for how the other thinks about them. To literaly FEEL what they feel to put THAT into the mask. that is so strange and alien but so damn beautiful! I love it!

And nightmare. gosh. he is so impacted. because thinking about ccino. about all he did for him. while his emotions are amplified. All those feelings and knowledge circling and effecting himself on such a level he is close to tearing up. i love that.

THE WAY HE CLUTCHES THE CLOAK TO GROUND HIMSELF!!!! The thing that Ccino GAVE him. just another reason why he is exactly there.

and N just being excited to get STRAIGHT to work. skipping over to the pile of wood to grab the best option and nightmare wanting to stay before deciding against it because it is just too much for him.

AND THE TAGS!!!

The fact the gang and ccino went down here to make a new mask for nightmare. ccino claiming first go because he IS the brother/caretaker/ REAL parent of nightmare.

Just. fuck! that would be such a banger drabble too! Maybe N doens't even address them by name but like by which animal mask they were given. Just right away she knows who is who without EVER seeing them. wihtout even being at any ceremony or anything!!

Ccino knocking and N opening the door only to smile and say "If it isn't the white cat!! Come in come in!" and Ccino is shocked. his mask is a very tightly held secret. just for his own safety. sure ccino figured nightmare told N for who it was but Ccino never met N. So he knows N never met him either.

And them all taking a moment to talk about Nightmare. You could really dive into their realtionships like that. ccino talks about nightmare with such pride and love. that is HIS kid at this point and his emotions and feelings say as much. Killer speaks about nightmare as this naive person still but willing to listen and learn. Soemthing that ngihtmare takes price in. Dust speaks about nightmare as his savior. Nightmare saved him first from dead and then from his own magic exploding him. Horror speaks about Nightmare of a trustworthy hardworking caring king. someone who tries his best to do right. Cross speaks about nightmare and can only think of forgiveness and second chances. He is safety.

Just. AAGH!!!

Also the idea that dream goes down here and N just smiling like "took your sweet time to visit me prince. You wanted a mask and you were literally down the hall!"

Dream sputtering "I was in a jailcell?!"

N tilts her skull "so? Could have still called for me. I could ahve had the mask you wanted ready AGES ago." :/

It is just not efficient lmao!!

The fact N just walks into town casually is so funny to me. Just. making my way downtown. walking fast. faces passing. no one knows how the fuck i do this :3

Spot this was such a good drabble!! I always love what you write!

The Maskmaker (New Age AU Drabble)

Hiiiii. So, this isn't very long and doesn't do Nightmare or N enough justice, but I wrote this a while ago and my lovely pals looked at me w/ big ol' eyes on my post about posting it, sooooo!!! Here it is!!

This is shortly after Night's coronation and follows Ancha's drabble regarding Ccino + his remaining by Night's side!

   These halls. They were cold. Colder than the rest of the castle.

   Nightmare only knew, thanks to the gentle puff of steam left by his shallow breaths as he stepped down the corridor. The dark, long, corridor.

   He couldn't feel it. No. His sense of warmth and cold had faded almost instantly after eating the apple. The nervous chill in his core had been replaced with a luke-warm air. Like a puddle left after a summer rain. The chill couldn't reach him.

   Still, he wore his cloak. One which Ccino had tailored not a week ago because he feared Nightmare would feel bare without it. His old one used to keep him warm. Ccino was right, of course. Purposeless or not, the new heavy fabric kept him centered. Covered the restless twitching of his tendrils as he spoke with the few he could bring himself to communicate with since the incident.

  

   Now, it's bottom hem was suspended away from the old floors, just barely, by his extra limbs.

   His steps were silent, he wasn't sure when that had begun, but he imagined in this darkness no one would know he was there at all until the Cyan of his eyelight was turned upon them.

   He approached the door. Finally reaching the ornate, carved surface he'd visited only once before. When he and Dream were young. Nim had ordered them to come alone and let the mask-maker measure them. So they'd know when time came for them to commission their own masks. They didn't have to come down, the mask-maker already knew their measurements. They always did.

   His knuckles hovered away from the door. With its carving of that tree, swirling and dancing in the low light his eyelight provided. This space held more lingering emotions than he'd expected. His hand trembled a bit.

   No. He couldn't chicken out. He couldn't go crying, this was important to him. It was his right. It was... the least he could do.

   His fist connected with the door, twice, steadily. The loud sound echoed into the space behind him, and he stood. Prepared to face heckling and anger abd fear, for he wasn't sure the mask maker even knew of his rise to the throne. He hadn't been there, after all. At the ceremony.

   The door swung inward, and... Nightmare found hinself staring down at a monster.

   This monster... was not the one whom he remembered.

   Before, when he was young, he recalled a large, imposing monster. Heavy clay hands that held the pristine masks so carefully. Kind eyes which skimmed sorrowful past him, and handed him that lovingly carved owl mask. The one made simply out of dark wood.

   Now, the monster stood before him, leaning in the doorframe, was not that monster. This one was slightly shorter than him, stocky in the shoulders, and bundled in layers of cloaks and gloves. Their face hid behind the mask of some sort of rabbit, bright, burning lights behind the eye-holes were a soft lavender and blue. Only a lashing tail gave away their species. A skeleton varient.

   "Mask-maker." He greeted, composure renewed.

   The monster blinked, before they widened the door a bit more. A wave of amusement and excitement washed over Nightmare, and he thought he might be sick from just how potent it was.

   "Ah, my King!" They exclaimed, and Nightmare could almost hear the smile in their tone. "I wasn't expecting you so soon after your whole coronation, come in!"

   They darted away from the door, allowing Nightmare to see past them. The room beyond was as he remembered. The large sets of work-benches, suspended candles, piles upon piles of wood. Masks lined every inch of the walls, though now he could see newer ones piling up along shelves and along the stations.

   The monster seemed to round to a large chair, much too oversized for them, and plop down into it. Nightmare drifted inside, closing the door behind him carefully.

   "You royals only come down to see me for masks, that is my job though," They mused. "Or, well, that's what my mentor always said."

   Nightmare drew closer to the opposite side of the table which now separated them. He could see the messy, amalgamated surface of a partially-completed work laying between them. The wood mangled and frayed not unlike torn flesh.

   "I must ask," He knew he had other business and little time, but, "Who are you, mask maker? My mother never mentioned a change in position."

   It would be just his luck that a fraud would be hidden here in the depths. Though, the emotions were simply so delighted. They swirled about, as though every flick of their tail sent another ripple through the air.

   A giggle erupted from behind their mask.

   "Oh, I think I like you already, my king!" They said happily, "Mask-makers have never been asked such a thing by the royals! We have always been known to retire and pass on the mantel without care from you folks."

   They divulged the information so easily, but Nightmare didn't recieve the answer he had asked for. It took a few more breaths before they spoke again.

   "My name is N, my King. Call me as you see fit, I change as easily as replacing my mask." They finally admitted. "King Nim visited me once, two years ago, only to inform me her prince may quickly approach after his coronation. Though, I'm sure you're not the one she meant?"

   Nightmare withheld the hiss which desperately wanted to bubble up in his throat. His tendrils whipped about in frustration. Guilt. Of course they were expecting Dream. He'd figured as much.

   "No matter. I am here to serve my king, and that king is you, my good sir." They dipped their head a bit, "So, what is it you'd like me to carve? A noble wolf? A regal ibis? Something fitting a consort or-"

   "None of that." Nightmare cut them off, his good socket narrowing in disgust. The thought made his stomach churn.

   He thought he'd have to wait for her to speak up again, but found they had quieted and were seemingly awaiting information.

   "My... head of house. Recently promoted as of my ascension." He said, slower. He wouldn't get worked up again, "He deserves only the best, and I know you understand this well."

   N seemed to smile beneath the mask again, their eyelights hidden in thin crescent slits.

   "Describe away, my king!" They exclaimed, reaching out for a scrap of paper.

   Nightmare remembered how he'd been taught. To describe the mask with intention. Feelings and thoughts tucked away into each and every word. Those were supposed to be insightful for the mask-maker. To guide their hand as they carved.

   "This mask. I would like it to be the Visage of a cat. Well-kept, clean, orderly." He spoke, gently, drawing his eye away from the table and to the plain floor were nothing would influence his thought. "A kind face, soft. Trustworthy and bold. Clever. Warm."

   Nightmare wasn't sure what came over him. Descriptions and feelings tumbled from his jaws for what felt like ages. By the time he finished, his throat was raw with emotion. His hands clutched the inside of his cloak like a life-line.

   It was the tapping of N's charcoal stick to her desk which alerted Nightmare. Made his eyelight snap back up to her position.

   Though, she'd already put her sketch down and was up and across the room. Tugging at her piles and piles of enchanted and imported woods. For being a stationary monster, they had strength to move the wood with ease.

   "You've given me the perfect working material, my King! This mask should be done in four-days time." They assured him, not turning around.

   Their emotions read as elation now. A pure, unadulterated joy at the... the way Nightmare had described his mask? He could only imagine his magic intent had something to do with it. Ccino would, hopefully, understand.

   Oh!

   "The mask. You are aware who it is for?" He questioned.

   N hummed, before popping away from the stack of wood with a nice chunk of white-ish wood. It reminded Nightmare of cooked fish flesh, a pristine off-white with an intricate pattern.

  

   "I can only imagine it's that guy? Ccino? Good for him with the promotion, by the way. I'm sure he had his fair share of struggles to get there." N replied.

   Nightmare gave a minute nod. He hated that he had a heavy suspicion as to why N already knew Ccino by name. Nefarious plans set by his mother yet again. Bastard woman.

   He debated staying longer. Watching N strip the bark away or making smalltalk.

   In the end, it was better to leave. His hands were still shaking and his gut felt like it'd spill if he felt one more overwhelming emotion from the craftsman he was standing with. So, he bid them a farewell, promised to return in four days time, and exited from that heavy wooden door.

   The trip would be worth it so long as N delivered. And she would.

[insistonyourcupofstars]

I miss her (the sun)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Shiver

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: The snow may not be the only thing keeping you trapped.

Character: silverfox Bucky Barnes

Day Five of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - extreme weather leads to forced proximity  

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"Shit," Bucky plants his feet in the snow as you shiver against his back. 

The wind billows around you, his body breaking it but not shielding you completely. You shiver under the wool blanket and open hospital gown. Your quick escape didn't allow much time for a weather report. His treads crunch and sink deeper into the snow as the back tire kicks up powder and the front clogs with the thick sheet below. 

He growls and revs again, more in frustration than genuine effort. Your lip quivers and your teeth chatter. You look up as large cumulus flakes drift down, blotting out swathes of the sky. 

"Gonna have to ditch it," he grumbles and kicks down the stand. He hardly needs to as the wheels are so deep, the bike might stay up on its own. He kills the engine and the silence blows around you, whistling behind your ears. "God damn..." 

You rescind your arms, shaking as the cold seeps across your front, his warm fading quickly. You slide off the bike, your open rubber clog sinking into the snow, your exposed leg scalded by the bite of the cold. He climbs off and looks at you, a grimace lined in his forehead and cheeks. He shakes his head as he strips the saddle bags off the bike and puts them over his shoulder. 

The grey streaks in his hair are illuminated by the white landscape, and the patches in his beard look even thicker. The scar through his brow pales with his exasperation. He beckons to you as you continue to quake. He doesn't wait for you to obey. He steps closer and hooks his arm around you, his metal one coming up to scoop you off of the ground. As he lifts you, snow clumps off your shoes and back to the heaps. 

"Where--"

"Where are we? Where do we go? Two questions I don't got the answers too." He growls.  

You rub your hands together and blow into them. He looks down at you, his eyes glinting with steel, his cheek twitching. He's forged in iron. He gives one-worded orders and grunts, so now that he's talking, you're concerned. Even more than you were before he showed up.  

"Sorry," you utter.  

He grunts. Right. He hikes you up so you fall against his chest. You welcome his warmth. He takes high steps away from the motorcycle. You watch it over his shoulder. You suppose it's replaceable.  

He continues on, slow, but steady. The snow falls at a similar pace. You can't help but nestle into him. You've heard of this man before. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. His nickname is more apt in that moment, though he doesn't welcome the irony.  

As he carries you, you feel his heart beat, and your own. He is a man underneath all the stories. An avenger. A hero. Your hero. Or just another captor. 

You turn to see ahead of him. He walks into the ivory void, the snow slanting and swirling all around. You squint as it catches in your lashes and you hug the blanket tighter. It's damp with snow and offers little against the onslaught.  

Hopelessness builds with the piles of snow all around. Still, he isn't daunted. Even as the sky darkens, even as you feel him tense with the burden of your weight. He just carries on. You know what that's like. To just keep going because there's no other option.  

A haven appears at last, though you don't immediately see it. You think he's gone mad when he kicks the wall of snow. Then it collapses inward into clumps. The mouth of a cave opens from behind the dusty shower.  

He steps through, out of the whining gales. You bend your fingers and wiggle your toes as they ache and throb. He takes you deep enough that the cold is not so virulent.  

He puts you down and wades through the darkness. You huddle in a ball as you listen to him. You can't tell he's right next to you until he grabs your leg then trails down to your foot. He takes it out of the clog and wraps it in fabric. You're not sure what exactly the cloth is but it's better than nothing.  

He does the same to your other foot before he moves away. Again, you hear him. His shadow blurs in and out of your sight until he turns on a flashlight. He props it in a nook in the wall so it casts across the space. You hug yourself and watch him. 

He surveys the interior of the cave as he grips his hips. He doesn't look impressed. He drops his bags on the ground and unbuckled the blanket roll from between them. He unfolds it with a pensive gaze. His eyes flick over it to you. He nears and throws it at you. You catch it thankfully, letting he wet one fall off your shoulders.  

He clicks free the clasp on his leather harness, undoing each strap until its slack. He slips it free then unzips his high-collared jacket. He removes that too and puts it with the bags. You stare at him in confusion.  

"Your clothes are wet," he pauses and glances over, "what little you got. Take em off. We gotta stay warm."  

"Huh?" You gurgle.  

"Or you can freeze. I got the serum to keep me warm," he shrugs as he peels off his undershirt.  

You don't hesitate again. You reach to the laces of the hospital gown just behind your neck. You've been poked, prodded, observed. You lost your modesty a long time ago. He doesn’t have any either. 

As you drag the fabric away from your body, he approaches. Naked, hairy, shameless. He takes the blanket and lowers himself next to you. He wraps you in his arms, bring the thick layer around both of you as he guides you down to cave floor. 

You cannot deny the heat of his body. You’re almost desperate for it. You quake against him as you snake your arms around him in turn and press your cheek to the top of his chest. Your legs tangle together as you entwine beneath the blanket, meshing together to keep the warmth within. 

His breath is calm where yours is shuddery. You cling to him and close your eyes. The lull takes over. There is only the distant wind, the soft fall of snow, and the beating of his heart. Or is it yours? 

You ease down into a senseless trance. You are not so much waiting for it to end as hanging on every second. You’re alive. You can stay alive. For the first time in maybe ever, you care about that. You’re not sure why. It might be nothing more than being away from that horrible place he took you from. 

His lips brush your hair and send a new kind of shiver through you. The gesture is odd as he inhales, breathing in your smell. His hand crawls up your back and down again. Your skin speckles with bumps. His movement is cautious but deliberate, as if he’s unsure if your awake or not. 

A low rumble rolls in his chest and escapes his throat. He splays his fingers wide and covers one side of your ass. He presses his palm to your firmly and curls his fingers. You whimper. What is he doing? 

Your bat your lashes as you open your eyes. His other hand comes up to still your head, trapping it against his chest. His hand hooks under the curve of your rear. He shoves between your thighs, keeping his knee between yours as he feels around. 

Your heart races in your ears. The whistling wind is replaced by a thundering drum. Your fear tempos as his determination guides his touch. 

He pokes along your entrance and dips his fingertips just inside. He wiggles them as you whine again and brace beneath his chest, a layer of soft flesh pillowed over hard muscles. No, it can’t be. You saw it on the screens. On the pages. He is a hero. He saves people. He doesn’t do this. 

He turns you onto your back and shifts his weight over you. You exhale as you look up at the stubble on his chin. You push until your nails crease in his flesh. He does not relent. 

He parts your legs with his. He slips free his fingers and unwinds his arm from behind you. You sniff as your eyes burn with disbelief and fear. 

“Please don’t,” you babble. 

He doesn’t listen. Or maybe he doesn’t hear you. His other hand creeps around and pushes your chin up. He frames your jaw tightly as he rocks and rubs his rigid length against your pelvis. He groans as you feel him twitching. 

He grips his dick and drags his tip down, tracing along the vee of your thigh and to your slit. He delves between your lips, rubbing up and down as you squirm in his grasp. Your hands are flat to his stomach as you push futilely. 

Your voice evaporates with all of your strength. You feel the paralysis that comes with knowing there’s nothing you can do. You lift your eyes to the dark caverns of the ceiling and stare into the abyss. 

He pokes along your entrance. You hiss as he presses against it, threatening to stretch you, even split you. He leans into you, slowly barging his way into you. Your body strains to take him as he lets out a long groan. Inch by inch he invades your body, conquering you as he keeps you pinned beneath the blanket. 

The grey ends of his hair tickle you as he sinks until you can take no more. Your tears wobble in the brims of your eyes and you blow out a willowy sob. He lowers his head to brush his prickly stubble against your cheek. His gritty breaths blaze over your ear and he growls as he tilts back. 

He pumps into you as you quaver out stunted cries. He rears back with long, slow strokes, only to slam back in quickly, holding himself deep before retreating again. You no longer feel the cold or the warmth, just his violation. 

“W-w-w-w...” you rasp quietly under your tortured breath. The noise of flesh, wet and dry, meeting and parting echoes in the cave. “Why...” 

He thrusts into you again. He keeps himself buried at the point of agony. You snivel and free a hand to mop your face. He lifts his head and hushes you as he shoves your arm away, caressing your splotchy cheeks with his thick thumb. 

“You didn’t think I was saving you, did you?” He nuzzles your forehead as he snarls. “Doll, they made you for me to claim.” 

You squeak and latch onto his wrist. Squeezing as he snaps his hip, jolting your entire body. Your pain swells with panic. You don’t understand what he means. If he didn’t save you, why did he kill all those people? 

“Yielding, used,” you flinch as your temples tingle with the timbre of his voice. “Vessel, dusklight,” he continues reciting the disjointed words. Your eyes feel loose as if they might roll out, “forty-five, wilting.” You ears ring and you shake your head, digging your nails into his forearm, “one, belonging,” he ruts into you harder with each word, “together,” your skin crawls as your insides burn, “surrender.”  

With his last word, your body goes limp. You can’t move but you can feel. You can feel it all. He pushes his hand around your head and cradles it as he bows his head to nuzzle your neck. His breath dampens your skin with each desperate burrowing into your core. 

“They programmed you for me, doll,” he puffs into the crook of your shoulder. “They put a switch in you...” he groans and tenses as his other hand stretches beneath you to raise your ass, opening you even more to him. “That only I can flip.” 

You don’t even have the power to cry. You can only lay there and stare and suffer. If he isn’t going to save you, no one else is. 

[rueclfer]

Reverse comfort reader taking care of Touya plsplsplsplspls 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

I just had the amazing thought of it he's being overly cocky during winter "I don't need a scarf I have a fire quirk!" And the next days he's curled in bed with a fever and sore throat and there's a ton of I told you so's

Not even a fic if u don't feel like it maybe a smau but I think it'd be super funny 😭

🫐 Anon

sick touya supreme bc he can just lay there, be cute n not speak <3

sweat it out // touya todoroki

"What the hell are you wearing?" You exclaim after opening your front door.

"What?" He looks down at his attire. "What happened to hi, hello? A 'thank you for bringing me my package that I stupidly got delivered to your apartment?' Why don't we start there?" He huffs, stepping into your apartment, setting your package down on your kitchen counter.

It had been nothing but near freezing temperatures for the past few weeks- so cold that you had to layer up inside your own apartment to prevent your electric bill from skyrocketing.

"Hi hello, my sweet boyfriend." You roll your eyes. "Do you seriously need me to mommy you right now and scold you for not wearing a fucking jacket out in this weather? Are we not grown adults?" You drops the blanket draped over your shoulders and go over to rub his arms for the thermal friction. "Like you're seriously just wearing this long sleeve? It's freezing if you haven't noticed."

He raises his hand up to your face and snaps a flame into place in between his index and thumb. "You forget I run warm."

"Yeah okay, Mister. I-have-a-fire-quirk. How is that going to help you if it starts raining?"

He pulls you into his chest, letting his body heat transfer into your own, instantly warming you and most importantly for him, shutting you up.

You release a deep exhale in content. "Idiot. You just should stay. For the Winter. Just live here with me for a few months and never leave." You rub your face into his chest, savoring the warmth.

"I think we'd end up killing each other before Spring comes." He chuckles into your hair.

"I'll just chain you to the bed and duct tape your mouth close." You smirk up at him. "Everyone's happy."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, sweetheart." He pulls back, reaching out to tousle your hair. "But I gotta run. Told Shigs I'd be quick."

"Wait! Let me find you a sweater and an umbrella." You frantically look around your living room for any piece of clothing that you had previously stolen from him.

"No need." He bends down and quickly press his lips against yours, letting them linger for a few seconds before pulling away. "I have to go. I checked earlier and it's not going to rain and I'm not cold either. You on the other hand, worry about staying warm."

"It definitely is going to rain, Touya. I can smell it." You huff. "You'll get sick."

"What, is that a new quirk development or something? Weirdo." He lightly pinches your cheeks before slipping his shoes back on. "Also, I have a strong immune system."

"Seriously, let me find you an umbrella at the very least." You rummage around the coat rack for something that could fit him or a spare umbrella.

"Nope, no time. See you tomorrow, yeah?" He calls out.

"I guess." You mutter in defeat as you watch him slip out your door.

"Idiot." You sigh under your breath once the door clicks close.

-

"I'm here!" You call out after stepping into Touya's apartment, using the spare he lent you after locking himself out multiple times.

You kick off your shoes and shed off some layers, draping your jacket, and scarf over his couch before making your way to his bedroom.

"Knock knock." You say as you gently crack the door open, revealing near pitch darkness with sliver of natural light peeking in from the blinds.

You make your way over to the dark lump of mass of blankets on the bed, kicking aside used tissue paper that were thrown onto the ground before kneeling down next to the bed.

"Hello, my sweet stupid boy." You coo, slowly stroking the tuft of dark hair peeking out from the comforter.

"Don't be mean to me." The nasally voice muffled from under the covers. "Princess treatment today, got it?"

Touya finally pokes his head out from under the covers. It may have been dark, but you could still make out his puffy bloodshot eyes, dry cracked lips and flushed cheeks.

"I'll say it this one time then and then I'll give you the best princess treatment, okay?" You lean in close, letting your lips lightly graze the shell of his ear. "I fucking told you so." You whisper.

He groans, retreating back under the covers.

"Did you hear me? Okay maybe one more time." You giggle, trying to rip the covers off from over his head. "I told you so. It rained and it rained hard. Not ideal for that fire quirk of yours, huh? I fucking told you so."

"Fuck off." He groans once more. "One more time and I'm kicking your ass out."

"As if." You successfully tug the covers down to his chin, placing the back of your hand on his forehead. "You don't even have to energy to, you poor thing."

"Am I gonna make it?" He gazes up at you with his tired bloodshot eyes.

"Looks like you got a fever." You push away the sweaty stray hairs sticking to his forehead. "But I think you'll survive."

"Damn." He wheeze out. "That's unfortunate."

"It is, but maybe next time you don't listen to me, you'll get lucky and it kills you."

"Let's hope for it, then." He smirks, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes. "Can I have a kiss?"

"Nope. I'm not trying to get sick, Touya." You smile at the neediness in his voice.

You move over to the blinds and slightly twist them open, letting in some of the dim daylight before tossing the haphazardly thrown stray tissues into the trash bin nearby.

"I don't give a fuck. I want a kiss."

"Too bad." You pay no mind to his piercing stare as you wander around his room, tidying the space as well as clearing off an area on his desk to set up the cough syrups and fever reducers that you brought over from your own medicine cabinet.

You come over to him with the stray glass on water sitting on his desk and a couple Tylenols in your palm.

"Sit up." You order, kneeling next to his bed again, holding out your palm.

"Pop a perc then I black out..." Touya mumbles to himself as he sits up, grabbing the pills from your palm and popping them in his mouth, following it with a large gulp of water.

In this moment, you couldn't help but notice how precious he looked with his old flannel pajama pants, dingy stretched out band tee, disheveled hair and tired eyes- a spitting image of his everyday look when you two were teenagers.

"...Fuckin' I'm blowing her back out." He continues, leaning over to press a kiss on your forehead. "Don't look at me like that unless you're trying to help me sweat out this fever."

Your own face heats up. "The fuck were you saying earlier?" You chuckle, brushing off the insinuating comment and setting the empty glass on his nightstand.

"I don't know. Nothing." He coughs, laying back down, pulling the covers up to his chin. "I think the fever dream-hallucination is hitting hard. You should get in and cuddle before the sickness takes over and kills me."

You roll your eyes at the dramatics, nudging him to scoot over before climbing in under the covers with him, which felt like you had just stepped into a furnace.

He groans in content, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you in as close as he could.

"Can't cuddle for too long okay? I'm going to have to leave and make you some food soon." You mutter into his chest, letting your hand run up and down his back.

"No." He whines. "Just stay like this and I'll get better. I promise."

"That's not how that works." You mutter.

"Maybe if you give me a kiss instead? I think that'll 100 percent make me feel better." He pulls away, inching down towards you with puckered lips.

You stuck your hand out against his mouth, pushing it away. "I can't get sick, Touya. I know your ass will not know how to take care of me."

"You love hurting my feelings." He huffs.

"Well? Who put themselves in this situation. I told you, didn't I?"

"Shush." He mumbles, letting himself close his eyes and rest his chin on top of your head. "You didn't tell me shit."

You let out a sigh and let yourself close your eyes for a moment as well, letting your deep inhale and exhales sync in unison. Maybe having this every night wouldn't be too bad. Sure you two would tear each other apart if you had to spend every waking moment together in the same home, but for moments like these, you wouldn't mind it. Your eyes pop open the moment you feel the deep vibrations of his snores again your body, now realizing that you couldn't dare move from this position, risking waking him.

Just an hour. You'll only give yourself an hour.

-

touya tag: @moonchild701

[dreamescapeswriting]

No Regrets ~ HJS [MATURE WARNING]

CONTINUATION OF THIS PIECE

WORD COUNT: 3.9K

GENRE: Mafia AU, fluffy, first meeting, meet cute, fluffy jisung, soft mafia jisung being soft for reader, always there to protect her, bank heist and shes injured in the process, SMUT MINORS DNI, protected sex, sex in front of the fireplace, oral (female recieving)

PAIRING: Jisung x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of blood, killing, stealing, heists, reader being held at gun point,

Lightening slashed through the darkened sky making you jump a little and scoot closer to Jisung, the rain pounding against the windows of a cafe. Somewhere that had become your refuge from the storm that was growing worse by the second. Jisung glanced over at you, ever since you'd walked into the cafe he'd barely been able to take his eyes off you but he'd been trying. Not once was he able to though, it was like there was some kind of curse drawing him to you.

Years had passed since he'd ever been with a woman and he'd practically sworn off everyone he met, not wanting to get distracted by them but there was just something about you, something so warm and fresh that drew him in.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Jisung questioned, his gaze solely on you as you shivered a little, you felt frozen to your core but Jisung's men had already given you a shirt, a pair of pants and a blazer you didn't want to take anything else from them. That was, you didn't want to be in debt to the man beside you.

All of the stories you'd heard about the man from the underworld but they'd all failed to mention how kind his eyes were or just how sweet he was...toward you at least. It was a strange contrast between what people said he was like and what he was really like, something you hadn't really been expecting until now.

"No...T-Thanks." Your chattering teeth gave you away before Jisung snapped his fingers at his men, who swiftly sprung into action. Moments later, a steaming cup of hot chocolate was in front of you and a dry blanket was wrapped around your shoulders.

"I can start the fireplace if it gets too much," Jisung offered, his chest tightening as he watched you closely, eyeing you up as if he were waiting for you to shiver and give him the chance to jump in and be the hero of your story. Not that Jisung was the hero in anybody's story, he was always the villain. 

There was something about you that made him feel at ease, something that made him feel at peace as you sat beside him but there was also a nagging feeling inside of him, one that wanted him to protect you. It happened the second you'd barged into the cafe, shivering and dripping wet onto the floor. It was the reason he'd demanded his men into action before they could kick you out, there was no way he was going to send you out in the freezing weather.

"I hate the storms too," He finally mentioned, whispering so that none of his men around could hear the admission come from his lips. He'd never been one to tell people what scared him, not when it could possibly be used against him but you seemed in need of someone to talk to.

"You do?" Your voice cracked a little as you swallowed the lump in your throat, the tightness in your body loosening ever so slightly as Jisung put you at ease.

"Yeah, ever since I was a little boy they always scared me." He holds his cup in his hands, letting the warm ceramic warm up his cold hands. 

"I would never have expected you to be scared of anything." You admit shyly before he beams at you, he liked that you were feeling comfortable around him more than he cared to admit.

"There's a lot you might not know, but I'd be happy to fill you in." Your cheeks warmed at the kindness coming from him and you nodded.

The storm raged on outside but the cafe was suddenly becoming a warm sanctuary amidst the darkness. It was an unlikely friendship growing between you both, a mafia underworld leader and a frightened girl who'd stumbled into the cafe by accident.

"My favourite colour is pink but if anyone ever asks it's black," Jisung smirked at you, making you giggle a little as you sipped on your drink. 

"Mine's blue, but the colour of the sky on a really nice summer's day is blue." You admit to him, smiling while you forget the storm completely as you get to know Jisung just that little bit more. 

The night had flown by too quickly for either of you and you hated as you saw the sun coming up through the windows. 

"We stayed up all night?" You laughed nervously, trying to remember the last time you'd ever stayed up this late and it must have been years ago. The light burnt your eyes as you and Jisung stepped out onto the streets, you were still dressed in his guard's clothes and he couldn't help the jealous twinge he got thinking about it.

"Must have," He chuckles softly looking around for a car for you but there was none in sight except for his own.

"Vinny," He whispered in a low voice to one of his men nearby.

"Make sure she gets home safely." Vinny nodded understanding the unspoken order from his boss,

"Don't worry boss, I got this," Vinny told him as he got into one of the waiting cars and Jisung turned his attention to you. Searching in his pockets and handing you a small piece of paper with his number scrawled on it.

"In case you need anything. Don't hesitate to call." You gently took the piece of paper, staring down at it with a mix of surprise and gratitude flickering across your face. You never would have expected his number after a night of just talking,

"Thanks." You whispered before carefully tucking into your pocket and making your way to the car with Vinny inside.

"I'll be seeing you," Jisung called out, watching you with one last lingering gaze before you disappeared into the city and Jisung couldn't shake the weight of concern sitting on his chest.

He knew the dangers that lurked in the streets, especially to someone as unsuspecting as you. He was glad Vinny was going to drive you home but something still weighed down on him as he thought about you more and more being alone and he would do anything to ensure your safety. Maybe he could hire someone to watch over you all of the time, or would that be going too far?

"Boss, we have a meeting with Dante Moretti in an hour." A voice informed him snapping him from his daydream and he sighed nodding his head, there was no rest for the wicked. 

"Can you make sure Vinny stays close to Yn, I want updates on how she's doing." He grumbled as he got into his car, ensuring your safety felt as though he was protecting a piece of his own humanity in the chaos of the world and he was going to do as much as he could to keep you safe.

Someone had been following you and you knew who, he wasn't as sneaky as he thought he was since he was almost 7 feet high and built like he could knock down a brick house with one flick of his wrist. Sighing a little you turned on your heel making Vinny almost crash into you from how abruptly you'd stopped in place.

"Vinny, I'm fine." You told him plainly, staring up at the man who looked as though he'd barely slept a wink in days. Ever since your rendezvous with Jisung a week ago, Vinny had been outside of your apartment and everywhere you went. Part of you thought it was sweet that Jisung had asked him to watch over you but after no contact with Jisung, it was beginning to get annoying.

Maybe he did this to everyone he met and the reason Vinnny was watching you was because Jisung wasn't sure you could be trusted but you'd had enough. You wanted some space and Vinny following you everywhere was drawing attention to you that you didn't need nor want.

"Boss said to watch you." You scoffed a little, if Jisung was that bothered about you being looked after he should have come to check on you himself rather than sending a babysitting,

"Your boss can come and watch me himself, I don't need an armed guard." You gestured to the gun that was on his belt and he glanced at it, it was something all of Jisung's men were issued with.

"But-"

"Go and take a break, I'm going to the bank...okay? Nothing bad is going to happen to me in there. Go get food or something." You pointed to the cafe across the street and he bit down on his lip, disobeying a direct order from Jisung meant he'd probably lose his life.

"I have to go, I have a meeting and if I'm late I'll never get the loan I need." You mumbled, straightening out your outfit and walking in the direction of the large building while Vinny looked at you. He knew you were right and he needed a break and what was five minutes going to do if he went to grab a muffin?

The glass shattered around you as loud popping sounds began to ring out, you ducked a little as you flinched. The man you had been speaking to you dropped to the floor instantly and frowned,

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN!" Someone screamed out, your eyes darted in the direction of the voice and your heart began to race. Armed robbers were storming into the bank, their faces covered by clown masks and you cursed yourself for sending Vinny away. 

"Everyone be calm and do as we say and no one has to die." The main man called out as he turned to a man reaching for his wife only to shoot him in the head. Panic gripped you as you sank down onto the floor, none of the masked men had been able to see you since you'd been toward the back of the bank. With trembling fingers you began to hit Jisung's number, you'd had him saved ever since your night together and he was the only person you could think of helping you right now. 

As you continued the rings Jisung answered and your voice barely came out above a whisper,

"Jisung, please...you have to do something." You held your hand over your mouth trying to calm yourself down, if any of them found you, you'd be dead.

"There are robbers...they're holding us hostage." You whispered frantically. Jisung's blood ran cold as he listened to the desperation in your voice. Without hesitating he sprang into action, issuing orders to his men and racing to the scene.

"I'll be right there baby, just stay hidden," He kept you on the phone as he raced to his car, he needed to make sure you were safe.

"Where's Vinny baby, is he with you?" Your breathing was frantic but you tried your best to focus on Jisung rather than the yelling and shouting that was going on.

"I sent him away, to eat...I-I thought I would be okay," You sniffled a little and Jisung wanted to reach through the phone and comfort you, wipe away the tears he knew that were streaming down your face.

"I'll kick his ass for listening to you," He chuckled trying to make you laugh but your breathing stilled as you heard someone coming toward you. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you held your breath trying to hide further under the table,

"Found you, sweetheart." Someone sneered, his voice dripping with malice as he dragged you out from your hiding spot his grip so tight you knew it was going to leave a bruise. 

"Yn?! YN?!" Jisung screamed down the phone, forcing his men to drive faster down the streets toward the bank you were in.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt the cold metal of the gun pressed against your temple, you were shoved through the bank toward the front once again.

"Lookey what we have! An example to make of." He smirked as you struggled against his grip, your heart pounding with every beat as you thought about a way to get out of this or a way to drag it out.

"What did we say? Stay calm and no one will get hurt, it seems someone can't listen to rules." The metal of the gun was dragged down your cheek until he placed it underneath your chin, the tears free-falling as you whimpered a little. 

Suddenly, amidst the chaos of the other men shuffling money into banks, the sound of sirens pierced through the air, signalling that police were outside. The grip the man had on you faltered for a second, his attention on the threat of the police. Mustering up all your strength and with the surge of adrenaline, you twisted free from his grasp, ducking out of his grasp and making a run for the safety of a desk. The man cursed as he scrambled after you, just as he got close a shadow emerged from nowhere and stared down at him.

"Jisung." You breathed out as he stared down at the man who had grabbed you, his moments were swift as he subdued the robber and put him to the floor aiming a gun at him this time.

"Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?" Jisung stared over at you, your breath catching in your throat as you watched him closely and you shook your head.

"I'm fine, just scared." You admitted as he nodded, turning his attention back to the other robbers who were all on their knees with their hands behind their heads. Everyone knew not to fuck with Jisung if they knew what was good for them and Jisung waited for the cops to come in. 

"How are you doing?" Jisung asked as he sat beside you in front of the fireplace, after the robbery Jisung had taken you back to his place deciding that he didn't want you to be alone tonight.

"Fine, just like I was fine the other twenty-two times you asked," You said, teasing him a little for how often he'd been asking you the same question since getting there.

"I just want to make sure," He sighed, wrapping the blanket around your shoulder more and smiling at you. Your heart began to beat faster as you were cuddled so close to him.

"You're the first person I wanted to call when it happened." You admit, after the events of the day you weren't going to hold back telling him how you felt about him since there was no point, you never knew what could happen.

"Why?" He blushed a little as you watched him closely,

"I like you...a lot, and I wanted to hear from you one last time in case...In case I died-"

"I would never let anything happen to you," He whispered, clutching your hand in his and holding it on his lap.

"No?" You giggled a little as he ran his hand over your cheek and gently rubbed his thumb over your skin,

"No. I should kick Vinny's ass for leaving you." He grumbled, he'd wanted to do it after getting you from the bank but you'd begged him to take you home, not wanting to stay there any longer than you had to.

"I told him to." You reminded him but Jisung scoffed at the thought, the only person Vinny should have been listening to was Jisung and Jisung alone.

"He should only take orders from me." He grumbled a little and you inched closer to him, 

"You're cute when you're mad." Your voice came out low and seductive as you gently kissed his jawline.

"Y-Yeah?" He stuttered a little as he felt you closer to him, his heart racing as you began to kiss his jaw again.

"Yeah, and hot when you're being the hero for me." You added before kissing his neck a little, his whole body flaming as his cheeks burnt bright red.

"Yn...Y-You went through something traumatic today, we should probably wait,"

"Why?" You stopped still and looked up at him, his eyes staring down at you, he wanted to, more than anything, but he didn't want to rush you into something.

"I don't want you to do something you'll regret." You smiled warmly at him,

"I promise I won't," You whispered before kissing him softly, his arms wrapping around your waist as the blanket you were wearing dropped from your shoulders. 

Jisung carefully laid you down on the floor, kissing down your neck as he pulled the shirt you were wearing off your body.

"I've wanted you for so long," He groans, kissing down your bare chest and sucking on your nipples causing your back to arch off the floor.

"So don't waste any more time," You pleaded with him as he smirked, kissing down your chest until he reached your panty line which he quickly tore off you and threw somewhere in the room.

"I don't let anyone order me around but for you, I'll make an exception." He groans before putting your legs on his shoulders before pushing his face into your cunt. His tongue slowly licked through your folds as you let out a strangled moan of his name.

"J-Jisung," You cry out, your hands pushed into his hair and you ground your hips against his face needing more than what he was giving to you. Jisung didn't miss the hint though as he picked up the pace, eating you out like a man starved as he moaned against your clit sending vibrations up and down your spine.

"F-Fuck! R-Right there," You cry out as he continued to suck on your clit, his fingers pushing into you and sending you closer to the edge. Jisung smirked up at you, your eyes were screwed shut and your head rolled back as you gave into him.

"G-Gonna..Fuck I'm so close," You cried out louder, Jisung curled his fingers to your g-spot, moving his fingers at a brutal pace until you screamed his name out as your first orgasm hits you. 

"So loud for me, I love it." He groans as you pull him up and kiss him deeply, not caring if you could taste yourself on his lips but just desperate for him.

"Want you," You grumbled as you quickly stripped him of the suit pants he was wearing and rubbed his cock through his boxers earning a grunt from him.

"I've got an IUD," You whisper to him when you see him searching around for something and he relaxes a little, kissing you deeply as you lay back down on the floor, your legs spread on either side of his hips.

"You sure?"

"Jisung, please," You whined out, spreading your legs further apart as Jisung lined himself up, easing into you at a slow and torturous pace.

"M-More," You begged as you rocked your hips up a little until he was pushed to the hilt, a strangled moan leaving both your throats. Jisung smirked at you as he slowly pulled out of you, only to slam back into you as you let out a scream of his name. He began thrusting into you, harder and faster than before as your hands dragged down his back. 

"You're so tight, angel, you close?" He groans out as you clench around him again, moaning out his name as he continues his brutal pace. You'd had sex plenty of times but nothing compared to this, Jisung had you on the edge from just a few thrusts.

"You make me insane for you," He growls out as he continues to fuck into you,

"G-Good, you do the same for me," You whine out, rolling your hips in time to meet his thrust as you feel the familiar tension building inside of you.

"S-Shit, Jisung." You moan out as he grips your hips, his thrusts getting more determined,

"C-Cum for me angel," He groans, as if on his command you came around him, screaming his name out as you rocked your hips riding out your orgasm. Jisung wasn't far behind as he panted into your neck, his hips slowly to a still making you giggle a little.

"Let's go and get cleaned up," He whimpered a little, his hips shaking as you nodded and wriggled beneath him.

The morning sun filtered through the blinds in Jisung's room and he cursed himself for not getting blackout ones like he wanted to. The memories of last night began to filter through his mind leaving him smirking as reached out beside him. He frowned, a pang of unease gripping his chest as he stared at the empty space beside him. Had you regretted the night before?

With a heavy sigh, Jisung rose from the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. Your clothes were still in his room along with your bag and phone which meant you were still around somewhere he just had to find you. He padded down the stairs, an overwhelming sense of gratitude filling him when he saw you standing in the kitchen with your hands on your hips yelling at someone.

"I wanted to cook for him, what's the big deal!?" You cried out at the old lady who had swatted your hands away with a spatula when she found you cooking.

"He only lets me cook for him, it's the safest way." You rolled your eyes, about to tell her who you were when someone wrapped their arms around you.

"Come back to bed, let Sophia make our food so I can fuck your brains out," He whispered in your ear, biting down on your ear as you let out a small moan following him without question.

"So no regrets?" He asked, threading his fingers between yours as he led you back to the stairs.

"No regrets," You smirked kissing him on the cheek and rushing off up the stairs to his room again.

"I hate you," Felix's date said as he stood beside her, her arms folded across her chest as she stared at him looking completely pissed off that she had to be there.

"I hate you more, my little firecracker," He smirked down at her and you cuddled closer to Jisung as you watched the exchange.

"It's strange that's how they express their love," You giggled a little as Jisung took your hand in his, gently kissing the top of it before pulling you into his chest.

"Hmm, think we should uninvite them from the wedding?" Jisung smirked as you slapped his chest softly, hushing him. A charity event wasn't the place to announce your upcoming wedding, you wanted to do it properly and at a dinner with all of them together.

"We'll see you later," Seungmin's date whispered before hugging you and running off toward the stairs with Seungmin.

"They're going to fuck," Jisung laughed softly making you roll your eyes at him.

"They could just be wanting a private moment," You elbowed him in the chest as he chuckled to himself he knew what the couple were up to, since he and you had snuck off at parties to do the same thing plenty of times in the past.

"To fuck." He added as you groaned at him, pulling him to go and dance with you.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp

[vasiktomis]

Loophole (Zayne x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Zayne has an Evol flare-up while you’re visiting Snowcrest. You’re a good friend, so you help him out.

It doesn't mean anything if you don't move, right?

Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~6800. Tags/Warnings: Female Pronouns and Anatomy for Reader, Reader is MC, Caretaking, Friends to Lovers, Inappropriate Doctor/Patient Relationship, Childhood Friends, Bickering, Cock Warming, First Time, Vaginal Sex, Photography, Unsafe Sex, Porn with Feelings, Switching. Post-chapter 4 spoilers. Read it on Ao3 Here!

“Let’s get you inside.”

The cold weather poses something of a threat to Zayne, you've realised.

He'd never admit such a thing, of course, but if he hadn't wanted you to make such an observation, he shouldn't have made it his responsibility to impose such an unexpectedly strong presence in your life.

A year ago, you barely knew him. To say he kept you at arms' length was an understatement, but with everything that's occurred in recent months — with such a void left in your life from the loss of Caleb and Grandma — and the ugly mysteries eclipsing once-happy memories — your doctor, of all people, is the one dedicating almost every minute of his time outside of work to trying to fill that void. It's not like he talks your ear off — he's Zayne, after all — but he makes a noticeable effort to make himself accessible to you whenever he can.

He's been a good friend to you at the sacrifice of his own comfort.

In the seven months that have passed since the explosion, you've had more exposure to Zayne than you've had any of your other friends. He rarely strays from his quiet stoicism, but it's far easier to read him. These days, you can't believe you once thought him intimidating. The softer aspects of his personality aren't offered willingly, but accidentally. A slip of the tongue here, a too-long stare at a community cat there, a smile he doesn't think you notice. He masks his requests for you to visit him in his overtime hours as nagging reminders for you to water the plants. He never asks you to bring him dinner, but there's always an extra seat pulled up at his desk when you arrive with it unannounced.

You’re sure he likes it well enough; getting to know you after all these years. You’re just not sold on how fond he is of you knowing him.

It shows stark on his typically taciturn features. Streetlamp light bounces off fluffy snow at all angles in the little village laneway, illuminating the man with an almost healthy glow as he walks stiffly beside you, right hand clutched against his side and his left doing all it can to keep from crushing the bones in yours.

“I’m fine.” He insists while you lead him up to the cabin, grimacing at a sudden chill of wind passing over the porch. There's a certain tone he uses when he's putting on the bedside manner. As a patient, you'd be soothed. As a friend, your patience wanes. He's not fine.

”I’ll get a fire going.” You mutter, ushering him inside. He tries amidst obvious pain to be gentlemanly, waiting for you to enter first, but a scowl on your part has him conceding defeat and ambling through the door. “Get in the shower. Can you turn it on by yourself?”

There’s no more warm light from the street in here. Dr. Noah likely would have fallen asleep hours ago, shortly after you’d left for dinner. Still, even in the dark, you can sense the irritation in him.

“You act like I’m frozen solid.” He retorts on his way to the bathroom, knowing better than to stick around despite the attempt to uphold his pride.

”Get your butt in the shower before I throw you in there myself.”

The warmer months gave you no initial reason to suspect anything, but as the weather worsened and temperatures dropped, Zayne began to feel more on-edge. You’d bore witness to his attacks in the past, but he was no more willing to share his condition with you beyond the odd occasion of being unable to switch it off after a battle. You knew what it looked like when his Evol was acting up. It almost caused a fight, the first time you asked about it. Then, when it became clear you weren’t simply going to leave him to his own devices whenever he was displaying the signs, Zayne steadily, reluctantly, began to let you assist. He couldn’t stand it — he still can’t, you’re sure — not playing caretaker for once, but the two of you found a rhythm; keeping an eye on his temperature, steering clear of fluctuations, little remedies that help him bounce back quicker when his Evol gets the better of him. It became second nature to you, like carrying an Epipen for a loved one at risk of anaphylaxis.

You won’t lie, though. It pisses you off. He’s a constant nag when it comes to your health regarding your heart condition, but there was no allowable mention of his  condition when he brought you to Dr. Noah. Not that your opinion counts for anything, apparently, but what idiot cashes out his annual leave for an extended stay in a tundra when he's so prone to such reactions?

It had shocked you even more when your friend declared he’d be staying back for the foreseeable future, conducting research for the old man on a solo expedition on Mt. Eternal. Your friend — the one who'd taken it upon himself to be a stand-in for your lost family — alone, in the worst possible place he could be in his condition.

It was unthinkable.

Four weeks was your breaking point after you’d returned home without him.

Sure, he responded to your texts within seconds. Reception wasn’t good enough for calls, but he made sure to give you no logical reason to worry about him. It didn’t help. Once your dreams started to take the shape of him disappearing into the mountains, you cut your losses and decided to visit for the weekend.

Just as well, considering he’d been massaging his wrist in your periphery for the entirety of your first day. Still, he'd insisted on showing you around Snowcrest, spending as much time away from Dr. Noah's cabin as possible. You knew his tells. He was bordering on a flare-up and hiding it from you. Had he mentioned it and agreed to stay in tonight, you might not of had to drag him home with frost seeping out of his clothes and a foul mood. Instead, he chose to be proud about it.

Idiot.

God knows what could have happened to him if he hadn't come down from the mountain to spend the weekend with you.

He’d never let you get away with such stupidity, and it’s hard not to hold it against him. You came here out of worry in the first place, and the visit isn’t doing a thing to set your mind at ease.

You tend to rekindling the dimming embers in the fireplace, content to mind your business once you hear the shower turn on. At least he’s doing what he’s told.

The living room heats up steadily. New flames settle into a longer-lived glow. You get yourself changed into more suitable bed wear; a commandeered hoodie from your doctor’s medical school era, large enough to reach halfway to your knees. The frayed cuffs have since lost their elasticity and there are a few choice stains, and most condemning, the drawstrings have been chewed to tassels — but god, if it isn’t comfy. Time stretches on, and while the worry gnaws at the back of your mind, you leave Zayne to his privacy. So long as you don’t hear a thump, you’re content to imagine he’s probably just in there being mad at himself over not being the sensible one for once.

Zayne keeps himself locked away for the better part of an hour, in the end. Even Pie pads out into the living room to investigate what you’re doing up alone in the middle of the night before a scritch sends the fox on its way back to bed.

You’ve slid most of the way off the couch by the time the man emerges from his room in fresh pajamas. With your back to the rug, you watch him approach stiffly, slowing to a halt upside-down. He’s still rubbing at that wrist, you note.

“You’re still up.” He mutters, brow knitted in discomfort.

There’s frost on his neck. His lips are blue. It wasn’t even this bad when you were outside. A pit forms in your stomach.

Then, his wake hits you. Cold air, chilling you to the bone, and you sit up in a flash.  

“Zayne—“

He silences you with a little hand motion, stepping around you to seat himself as close as he can to the fireplace.

“You’re half-frozen.” You continue when he offers you nothing else. Crawling onto the couch beside him, you reach up to tug at the collar of his sweater, trying to inspect the severity of the attack. “God, you should have said  something.”

“I thought you were asleep.” He replies quietly. “I’ve seen — how much it takes to wake you-“

Zayne flinches from your touch when your fingertip skims his neck. The most aggressive warning to stay back that he can risk without waking his mentor. You ignore him, of course. You always do. Sitting close, you press yourself to his side on the couch, guiding his right arm between your thighs. Your fingers lace between his from both sides, covering as much surface area as possible as you use your body to fend off the cold.

A moment is all it takes to see some of the tension in his face disappear. He breathes through the pain, eyes closed, and you shift your gaze to the fireplace to give him his privacy with it.

”You’re in so much trouble when this passes.”

A short, sharp chuckle slips through Zayne’s teeth. He nods once. “I know.”

You sit together like this for a long while, letting him sap the heat from your body to combat the flare-up. If not for the fire, you’d be shivering. It takes time, but eventually Zayne’s breathing evens out. His face relaxes, bit by bit. His half-frozen arm feels just a little cold to the touch.

Neither of you part. Not just yet. There’s too much left unsaid, and Zayne takes far too much solace in quiet to make the first move.

You let your temple drop to his shoulder. “Snow village dates are nice, but most girls would say yes to ‘Go Fish’  and hot cocoa if it means their date makes it through the night.”

After a second, Zayne rests his head against yours.

He inhales.

He pauses.

Then…

“I wanted you to have a nice time. I didn’t think it through.”

…God, he’s such a sweet man. It’s not wonder he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

There’s such a sense of finality to the way he says it. You suppose it’s not necessarily a wrong way to think of it, but it’s not his fault. Sure, it’s your last night together for what may amount to months, and he was stupid enough to think he could get away with poking the bear, but you’d rather have him come home alive and well. Not a victim to his own Evol.

It doesn’t sit right with you to let it end like this. The moment he’s recovered, he’s going to insist you both go to sleep. You’ll take the guest bed, and he’ll take the pull-out trundle, and he’ll remain there, soundless with his back to you. In the morning, you’ll say your goodbyes, and that will be that. The next time you see him will probably be for a check-up, and he’ll spend the entirety of the ECG acting like you’re mere acquaintances again.

No, you’re not losing momentum.

You’re not sure if it’s warmth in general, or if it’s a reaction specific to you — through trust, or the Aether core — there’s just no telling. Zayne keeps his cards too close to his chest for you to ever be sure, but you do know for certain that you hold the quickest remedy. If it’s just warmth, he never lets anyone but you get close enough to supply it. If it’s trust, likewise. The Aether core? You’re the only one.

“What are you—“

Zayne stiffens when you climb into his lap. He winces in discontentment; at such an intimidate proximity, at the physical danger he still poses, at the feeling of your thighs astride his. He doesn’t look pleased in the slightest, but still, his knees shift together, offering you a more comfortable perch on which to explain yourself.

You can feel the cold still radiating from him, fighting his body to keep from regulating its own temperature. It’s unpleasant, the way the chill claws at you, reaching across the expanse of your front. The joints in your hands already ache just from holding his arm to your chest. It’s imaginable, what it must be like to host such an Evol. What it must be like to have your own flesh freeze from the inside-out on a whim.

“Not done keeping you warm.” You answer simply, making a conscious effort to keep your teeth from chattering for his sake. He’s exercising enormous restraint not flinging you off of him already. You shouldn’t push your luck by sending him into any more of a panic.

“It’s not safe for you to be this close.” Zayne protests.

“Then I’m making you safe.”

This time, a growl escapes him. Pain cuts his patience with your impudence short. “You’re going to get yourself hurt—“

Zayne’s words die in his throat when you drape yourself over him, chest to chest, arms languidly curling over his shoulders. He goes completely silent.

“Aren’t you always telling me you can control it, anyway?” You muse, relaxing into him, moulding yourself to his body. The white frost that blooms beneath his skin begins to fade from his throat, unable to contend with the warmth of your breath. “If you didn’t want me doing this you shouldn’t have shown me how well it works.”

“That was after the aid of a hot shower.” Zayne argues. His logic might apply for that aborted attempt at an early-morning hike, but it falls flat tonight. “I was trying to warm up after the shower.”

Yeah, look how well that turned out. He’s as bad at lying as you are.

“So you’re saying I ought to have—“

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“If it’s not helping, Zayne, tell me.”

“…It’s helping.” He mutters.

You declare your victory with a hum, tucking your face into the collar of his sweater.

Even his scent is cold, somehow.

Beneath you, Zayne shifts, conceding defeat. You feel his lips ghost the side of your head. Considering — then retreating from a kiss — opting instead to rest his chin on you. His affected arm remains wedged between you, while his free hand comes to rest on your waist.

Minutes pass. Zayne’s breathing steadies to a resting rhythm. Eventually, the ice retreats into his flesh, disappearing with only a lingering chill. It shifts, marking the man’s return to normal, but he doesn’t announce anything. Instead, he tugs his arm out, only to wrap around you, surrendering to the moment.

“Do you have plans, while I’m away?” He asks.

“Tara’s been looking at the blank spots on my calendar, so I’ve probably got things on without knowing, yet.”

“Blank spots.”

”Yeah. Some of us have those.”

”Sounds like you don’t know what to do with yourself without me.”

“Please. I won’t have to worry about you bullying me. Maybe, y’know, I’ll do just fine without you.”

A chuckle escapes him. Tentatively, he toys with the fabric of your hoodie. “You’re not going to wash this at all, are you.”

Heat climbs up your neck at the suggestion. Of all the night clothes you had to bring, why did it have to be something you’d stolen from him?

You’re no coward. You rise to challenge. “Can’t miss you when it feels like I’ve got you with me.”

“I know  you’ll miss me,” Zayne retorts, and wow, he’s really  angling for a comeback after having you subject him to being taken care of, “But that’s no excuse for poor hygiene.”

“Poor hygiene—!”

You lean back to glower at the man, only to find him smirking up at you.

“I’ve half a mind to expect to find you asleep on the platform when the train pulls in, simply because you were too excited to wait at home for me to drop by.”

Your ears are positively scalding. You feel yourself shrinking, suddenly not so confident taking up as much space in the room. How does he have you so well figured out? Are you really that much of an open book? Compared to him, sure, but you’d hoped you carried a little more mystery about you than sitting on a station platform for a quasi-boyfriend-without-benefits  like a dog.

Even if that is  the case — does he really have to rub it in your face?

He can’t get away with this.

Speaking plainly, Zayne’s warmed up plenty. There’s no real reason for either of you to remain this close, and yet — despite lauding himself as the rational half of this friendship, his arms almost keep you from moving any further away.

His expression doesn’t falter with your silence, remaining ever-undisturbed. It unnerves you. His smiles never last more than a second, and you can count on one hand the amount of times he’s looked you in the eye with a pleasant face on. He’s on a power trip. If you don’t cut him down right this second he’ll go nuclear. He’ll leave you hanging with a ‘goodnight’  and a kiss on the forehead and you’ll both never speak of tonight again.

This is it. This is the last straw. Tonight, you leave him  hanging. 

“You want me to miss you so fucking bad, huh?” You accuse him, tapping a finger to your chin as you pretend to wonder. His eyebrow ticks. “Is that what you’re into? Man, you medical staff are all so power hungry.”

Zayne looks thoughtful for a moment. A thumb idly traces back and forth along your skin, barely tucked beneath your hoodie. It’s such a cautious touch. You wish  he wasn’t just all talk. “Perhaps you’re easier to deal with when one considers you might actually like getting bossed around.”

There’s no hiding the erection that sits wedged between you. There’s no ignoring the heat that pools in your core every time it strains against your cunt, blocked only by his sweatpants and your underwear.

There’s no way he can’t feel your heart beat throbbing against him.

And yet — he pretends not to be taking part in any of it.

You think about it for a moment.

Then, you roll your hips forward, slowly, gently. Your nerves spark as your clit finds the pressure it needs against the underside of his cock.

It takes everything in your power to keep from doing it again.

A tiny shiver makes its way out of Zayne. Frustration, perhaps. You angle a knowing little smile at him, and his throat bobs. He knows he’s been caught.

Checkmate.

“Doctor Zayne, are you getting off on this?” You ask, and his face flushes scarlet. His eyes widen, caught off-guard by you finally crossing the threshold.

”I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He answers lamely, pointedly avoiding looking down.

“You are!”

“Not so loud. It’s n-… it’s nothing.” He insists in a hushed voice, shooting a look over your shoulder before he’s satisfied that the coast is clear of anyone who might be privy to what the two of you are doing. “Just a biological reaction to stimuli.”

“Which stimuli?” You ask, feigning curiosity. “The cuddling, or this?”

To stress your point, you do it again, biting back the swell of enjoyment at the way his lips part of their own accord. A little hum spills forth, and his own hips chase the motion, just for a second, before he halts.

“Please.” Zayne murmurs, moving to hold you still. Inching you back onto his thighs, condemning himself to reveal two little damp patches. One where the grey fleece of his sweatpants pulls most taut. The other a little lower, where you’ve been rubbing your cunt along his clothed shaft.

“You need to learn when you’ve teased enough.”

What — fall back? Now? When all your nerves are alight?

Your tongue wets your lips as you take in the sight of him. Well on his way to wrecked, but not quite there. His expression remains otherwise impassive, but his pupils are far too blown to help him maintain the facade.

“You’re one to talk. Can’t hack it when it’s not you in charge?” You challenge him. “You’re not usually one to shy away from uncharted territory.”

You can’t help but reach out, itching to touch him. Fingertips smooth along his length, feather-light from the bottom up. His cock twitches when you reach the tip, begging for more.

“Ah—“ Long fingers snatch at your wrist, holding you fast. “Try no man’s land.”

“It’s nothing.” You assure him. “You said it yourself.”

Nothing. No different to how he so often strays into treating you, with all his dates and touches. Nothing, midday naps and linking your pinky-fingers as you walk together. Nothing, like the spare clothes you both reserve a drawer for.

“Just warming you up. That’s all.”

Zayne’s chest expands. His gaze fixes on your fingertips curling insistently at his waistband despite his grip keeping you at bay. “That’s all.”

Disbelief? Determination? Disappointment? You’re not familiar enough with how each of these sound in his throat to properly identify it, but Zayne’s grip on your wrist releases nonetheless. He opts to help you make more comfortable work of his track pants, pushing them down just a little to allow you easier access. There’s no presence of approval at how greedy you are about it, pawing and snatching at your prize while he tries to remain nonchalant.

You do try to give him the dignity of privacy by not looking down when he settles and you finally wrap both hands around his cock. He’s already indignant as it is, and the rumble that vibrates deep in his chest as your fingers close around him isn’t helping.

Oh — maybe just a little tease.

“Hey.” You chide, grinning. His eyes crack open, just enough to narrow at you. “Don’t make it weird. I’m a professional.”

It earns you a scoff. Zayne’s fingers, settled on your thighs, give a retaliatory squeeze, thumbs pressing just hard enough into your adductors to skirt on discomfort. He watches you tense at the feeling, and sensing an opportunity to shift the attention back off himself, decides to squeeze harder.

You finally flinch with an “Ow!”, and the man smiles to himself. Mission accomplished. He lets go.

”You’re the professional? How many surgeries have you performed?”

”How many have you  performed?”

”…A lot, genius.”

“Didn’t you tell me that some of your worst patients are doctors themselves?”

“Your point being?”

There’s no point — at least not in arguing with him. He’s only trying to distract you. You shift over him, and his attitude dissolves. He leans back, maintaining as much distance as he can — or perhaps to watch, as you tug your underwear to the side — line yourself up — and sink down onto his cock.

Zayne’s chest expands, but he makes no noise. His eyes close. His lips part. A minor crease forms between his eyebrows. It might as well be a sob. You’d use such a reaction against him if you weren’t more concerned with suppressing your own, lest he catch you out. Your cunt burns from the sudden, full intrusion, and his diverted attention gives you the moment you need to grow accustomed to it.

Once you’ve gotten over the initial shock of the feeling, you brush any intrusive thoughts aside. It doesn’t matter if he’s one of your oldest and closest friends. It doesn’t matter if he’s your doctor. You were already squarely planted in conflict-of-interest territory the moment he took you on as a patient.

You try to ignore your own desire. Your body catches up with your actions quickly, igniting touch-starved nerves that you’ve long-fantasised him satisfying. Heat builds inside you at a nervous system realising you’re finally giving it what it wants, and it only screams for more. Of course you’ve wanted Zayne. You adore him, but he’s not the kind of man who could balance a friendship with benefits; if anything, he finds a way to be the inverse of such a thing. He gives you everything in the way of a relationship except sex, and with him steering so clear of crossing that boundary with you, you have to tread carefully.

As much as you want to, this is delicate.

“My point is: zip it and let me take care of you.” You manage.

Besides, its not like you’re actually having sex with him. He’s continually pushing the boundaries of platonic with all his touches and hugs anyway. It’s not like he has a leg to stand on if he wants to protest what sitting on his cock might mean for your relationship. Hell, this isn’t even the first time he’s been hard when you’ve had his hips pinned down with your own.

If anything, you’re doing the guy a favour by taking the responsibility off him to go this far.

Zayne doesn’t bounce back as quickly as you do. His eyes remain scrunched shut, his core engaged beneath your palms as you brace your weight to settle into a more comfortable position in his lap. He looks worried. Apprehensive.

“Doctor Zayne?” Concern begins to creep in, just a little. “Okay, you can say something now.”

“Please,” He grits between his teeth, and relief floods your body as some semblance of calm returns to his expression, “Don’t call me that — like this.”

“Like what? I’m just warming you up, remember?” You offer a smile when he opens one eye, mood shifting to quizzical.

“You’re so immature. And for the record, this constitutes malpractice. You’re a terrible doctor.”

”Trust the process.”

”Fine. What’s the course of treatment?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.”

You can’t help but chuckle at such quiet outrage. It’s getting easier to read him. Relaxing against his front, you ignore a little gasp on his part to loop your arms around his neck again. Dishonest pretences be damned, this really is doing the trick. “All you need to do is stay still.”

Zayne weighs up his options for only a moment before giving in. His arms slip around your waist. His chin hooks over your shoulder, just barely nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He’s breathing in your scent, and the following exhale into your skin has you stifling a shiver.

Then, there’s a flex within you.

“Hey!” You choke, “I said stay still back there!”

“Quiet down. It was only a reflex.” Zayne defends, a little too cavalier to fly under the radar. “Besides, I’m not the one squirming.”

“I’m just getting comfortable. Your hips are pointy.”

Zayne’s hips slot up into yours, and the feel of him nudging just a little deeper has your eyes stinging. You fail to stifle a little squeak, and you’re shushed for it immediately.

“Just getting comfortable.” Zayne’s words lick at your ear, and the sound of him sends shivers through you, pooling between your legs, pleading with you to satisfy the ever-nagging want to start riding him. “You’re like a vice.”

He has to know how much of an effect he has on you. There’s no way he doesn’t.

You don’t respond to his attitude — however, the condemning, responding, constricting  of your insides around his cock surely doesn’t go unnoticed, and with a hollow breath, he lifts you, just a little, enough to draw back and push back in. He’s slow about it; infuriatingly so, almost like if he inches in and out at enough of creeping pace you’ll either not bother to be strict with him, or you’ll simply abandon your own rules in favour of crossing the boundary he’s silently begging you to cross for him.

No. He’s not getting the upper hand here. Not when he gets to pretend all his little actions are forgettable. Platonic. Accidental. Misunderstood. There’s only so many times a guy can subtly grind on someone during a spooning session and claim ignorance when called out about it.

You lock your feet beneath his knees, and sink down onto him, hard. Pleasure blooms. Your cunt aches for more. A sharp breath escapes Zayne, threatening to blossom into an appreciative groan that would only serve to tempt you without your hand clapping over his mouth and a ‘shh!’.

“You can keep still, or this stops.” You announce in a whisper, and he watches you defiantly from behind your hand.

Zayne’s gaze eventually breaks away from yours. Conceding. For now, at least. You lower your hand from his mouth, and relax, reaching across the cushion to pluck your phone from the couch and check your messages.

Already, he’s bothered by your lack of undivided attention.

“You’re on your phone.”  He huffs.

“I’m not rewarding your behaviour.” You reply simply.

“You’re not implying that behaving differently would warrant a reward, are you?”

That’s for him to figure out.

You shift your weight maybe just a little more than you need to, indulging in the feeling of his cock shift with you, within you, pressing insistently against that one spot that almost has your constitution coming apart at the seams. Zayne trembles momentarily beneath you, swallowing hard. He’s keeping his cool well enough, but as you settle into the new angle, no longer moving, his frustration makes itself known with another twitch inside you.

If he keeps doing that, you’re not sure you can hold out.

“You really  think this is helping?” He asks, voice tight.

“You don’t believe me?” You pout, tapping your home screen and opening your camera app. “Fine, let the expert see for himself.”

Switching to selfie cam, you watch as the man glances at his image on the screen for half a second, before tearing his gaze away. Not a shocker, you reason. He’s probably never seen himself with a hair out of place. Flushed cheeks and dilated pupils? You might as well have shown him a traffic collision.

“Aw, come on. Look how much colour’s come back to your face.”

Zayne musters the courage to look up, but not at the phone. His eyes narrow at you. Accusatory. “I’m not interested in giving you blackmail material.”

“What? Get real. There’s nothing incriminating going on. Especially not when you angle it like this.” You switch on a filter and lean down into the man. “See?”

Curiosity gets the better of him, and his head tilts to get a better look at whatever scheme you’re cooking up. On the screen, both your flushed faces smooth out, blushing perfectly. Cat ears and whiskers. Cheek to cheek. Just another one of your countless selfies with completely platonic friends.

You take the shot. The shutter clicks.

“Cute.” Zayne mutters drily.

“You think so?”

“Only how much fun you seem to be having of it.”

Your brow knits. “Oh yeah? All right, stick in the mud, you take over.”

He gives too much away at that response. His long fingers immediately slip over your hips. He’s readying to flip you onto your back before he notices you’re holding the phone out to him. Then, knowing he’s shown his hand, he has no choice but to recover his pride.

Much to your chagrin, Zayne plucks the phone from your hand, aborting whatever miraculous step he’d been about to take. A corner of his mouth ticks, minutely. He angles your phone away from you, tapping and swiping. His own phone buzzes. Then, he casts the device at the other end of the couch, out of your reach. “I think it’s getting a bit late for screens.” He murmurs. Fingers smooth up and over the swell of your hips. His long arms uncoil from your waist, releasing you as he leans back. Leaving you with a lonesome chill.  “And you ought to be going to bed.”

Is that…rejection? Has he just been humouring you up until this point?

You tilt your head. “I’m sorry. Is this not okay?”

“This is fine.”

He looks at the fireplace. Stoic as ever.

“Then what?” You frown.

He doesn’t respond.

Your throat runs dry. Dread creeps up through your heart.

“Hey. Talk to me.” You urge, smoothing your fingers along his jaw, and he leans into your palm.

Seconds pass. Zayne finally regards you again. There’s an acknowledging incline of his head — almost a polite bow. A pre-emptive apology for what he’s about to say. 

“What happens after this?” He asks. “Do we part ways at the train station in the morning and the next time we see each other, it’ll be as doctor and patient?”

Oh.

“Is that what we are to you?” You ask, not entirely sure if you want to know.

He dodges the question the best way he knows how: with rationality. “I feel that if that scenario is what you want, we should say goodnight. My understanding of our relationship won’t change, I promise you, but if this goes further, at least one of us is going to feel differently. It would be better if there were no misunderstandings between us.”

Something tightens in your chest. Something dreadful and lovely all the same, anxiety and anticipation at the prospect of a tipping point, at least before saying goodbye. Trust Zayne, of course, to turn to smoke and mirrors when it comes to a confession of feelings, but you’ve known him long enough to see how far out of his comfort zone all of this is.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” You ask, aborting an attempt on his part to avert his gaze with a finger beneath his chin.

His expression remains inexplicable. Then, there’s that little tilt of his head. The quirk of an eyebrow. “Your assumption is correct.”

The apprehension that’s been building in the back of your mind disperses the moment he says it. Your resolve all but disappears.  “My understanding,” You begin, reaching up to cup your hand over the other side of his face, “is that I’ve wanted you ever since I walked into that restaurant last year.”

Zayne doesn’t hesitate. His mouth finds yours in a heartbeat. Previously unsure hands pull you against him, locking you in his embrace. He’s so awfully gentle about it all despite your combined strength. Such a gentleman. It comes as no surprise that he shudders at the intrusion of your tongue past his lips — what does surprise you is how quickly he catches up to your pace. Inviting you in. Slipping an arm lower to brace your weight, and you feel yourself being pulled up off of his cock, just until only the head remains at your entrance. 

The loss of him has you incensed. He keeps you from sinking back down, and your protesting whines are suffocated with another kiss. All he’s left you with to express yourself is your hands, and you seize the opportunity, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging, just slightly at the roots.

He breaks away with a little noise. Not pained, but shocked. Another one of his spots, you reason, and he’s just as displeased that you’ve found it. 

“You don’t know when to quit.” Zayne pants. His fringe dusts your forehead. “What — what were we saying about bad behaviour going unrewarded?”

You’re too mindless right now to play any games. There’s no more thrill of the build that you can handle. Not after this long. 

You break, instantly. 

“Please —“ You whimper, almost trembling in his grip, trying in vain to take him back in again. “Zayne, I need it — please—“

Zayne relents right away. He gives you what you want, lowering you, burying himself in you to the hilt. Then he lifts you again, building into a steady rhythm.

”You’re so — you’re so frustrating.” He manages between kisses. “Should’ve told me this is all it takes for you to do as you’re told.”

More. You need more. Heavenly as it is, it’s not enough, just having him in you. You push back, and Zayne takes the hint. He’s said his piece. He lets you take the lead again without a fight, admiring the view as you roll onto the balls of your feet, gripping the back of the couch to keep yourself stable. The new angle feels deeper, each stroke rolling drifting sharply over your nerves as he brushes that spot inside you. It takes a moment for Zayne to kick into gear, brain short-circuiting as he watches you squat on his cock, taking what you need from him. Then, he leaves you to support your own weight. Fingers wrench at the front of your hoodie, yanking it up to your sternum, and his tongue sweeps a nipple. In the time it takes for you to react, his other hand has snaked between you, between your legs. His thumb rolls over your clit just as he latches onto your nipple and sucks. The keen barely escapes your lips before Zayne’s hand claps over your mouth, continuing his assault. 

It goes from too little to too much. It creeps up on you so fast, so suddenly, and there’s nothing you can do but ride through it. A muffled hum is all the warning you can give him. Your pace staggers as the burn in your thighs catches up to you, but Zayne only goes faster, rubbing merciless little circles into your nerves. His hips roll up into you, compensating as best he can for your loss of control. Finally, the band snaps, and you sob against his hand, spasming around him, tears pricking at your eyes with the intensity of it all. You go positively boneless, and Zayne breaks away just enough to let you collapse into his chest as he carries you through it, breaths quickening as the lingering spasms of your orgasm invoke his own. 

“Fuck, I’m—“ He barely stammers, releasing you only to coil his arms around your torso again, readying to pull out.

“Not going anywhere.” You promise, clinging to him. Your fingers comb through his hair, tugging again, and a whimper dies in Zayne’s throat. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. His hips roll up into you once, twice, thrice more, and then he goes still. Buried in you to the hilt as he tips into oblivion.

He’s so subtle about it that you barely even realise he’s coming. Maybe it’s the effort not to wake Dr. Noah. Maybe it’s like this every time. Having him hold you with such desperate reverence while he does his best not to judder in stark contrast to to the feeling of him pulsing within you, you reason you’d like to find out. He hides his face from you throughout, only pulling his forehead from your clavicle when the aftershocks have come and gone.

Zayne looks lovelier than ever like this — coming out of a blissful haze, gazing up at you with cautious adoration. His focus flickers between your eyes and your lips. His chest expands and collapses like he’s like a 5-miler, but his breaths are smooth.

Even now, he’s trying to maintain a cool composure.

“Forgive me.” He mutters, not quite meeting your eye.

Your head tilts. Chasing him. “Huh? Why?”

“I exercised poor judgement. That was rotten of me. I should have known better, given I’ve never prescribed birth control to you.”

“You really think I’d come to you for birth control?” You snort.

Zayne’s brow creases. An incredulous look totally undermined by how positively wrecked he looks right now. “I am  your physician. Or has your other doctor friend decided to become real after all?”

Your fingers comb through his hair again. Despite a pleasant sigh on his part at the sensation, his expression remains steeled.

“Hey.” You finally manage to capture his gaze, only for any tells to evaporate. “Could you tell me something?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Are you more jealous that I might have had sex with someone who wasn’t you, or that I might have gone to another doctor?”

Zayne considers his answer for a long moment. His head tilts in that particular way it does when he has to make a decision, eyeing you expectantly. Punishment for daring to push him out of his comfort zone.

He presses a hand to your forehead. 

A thoughtful hum escapes him.

“Curious. Your temperature’s dropping. On second thought, you should stay another day so I can observe you.”

“You’re avoiding the question!”

“Here. I’ll keep you warm. You can install those camera filters on my phone to pass the time.”

[hopesangelsprite]

Sweater Weather

Pairing: Husband!Toji x Wife!Reader

Summary: The winter months came faster than expected, each day colder than the last. Still, the chill in the air isn't nearly cold enough to put out the fire your husband has for you.

Warnings: fluff, teasing, use of pet names (Baby, Mama, etc.), language

"Megumi Fushiguro!", you shout from the kitchen at the sound of tiny, rushed footfalls and the front door opening. You peek out into the entryway as you remove your apron to see the little rascal in question halfway out of the house. "Just where do you think you're going?", you inquire while fully stepping out to lean against the lightly decorated walls leading to the front door, "You know how I feel about you running off without me knowing.".

The dark-haired boy pouts, anxiously shuffling around to face you with a hand still on the doorknob. "Itadori and Nobara want to build snowmen in the park, and we wanna get there before the older kids take up all the good spots!", he huffs from behind his hooded jacket while glancing outside. The ground's covered in snow, little flurries of ice drifting down from clouds adding to the mounds of white building in the neighborhood. You pretend to think for a while, finding his nervous shimmying adorable, before smiling and nodding. "Alright, kiddo. Don't forget to wear your mittens and hat.", you say before turning around to go back into the kitchen, "And don't forget to-".

"Watch out for weirdos and stick close to the others, I know!", he excitedly finishes your sentence for you before exiting the house, "Love you, mom!!". You gasp a little and turn to ask him to repeat himself, but he's already gone. Your heart melts a little in your chest and a soft smile creeps its way onto your lips. That was the first time he'd called you 'mom'.

You turn the stove off, hot cocoa ready and simmering, before making your way to the living room where you know your husband is. You'd been married for a few years, Megumi on the cusp of his seventh birthday at the time, and you'd grown to love the both of them dearly. Though Megumi loved and respected you as well, he'd always been touchy about referring to you as his mother seeing as he wasn't quite over the loss of his biological mom so early. You made it clear that you weren't a replacement for her and never could be, and you never pushed the subject any further. Hearing him call you his mom today warmed your heart more than he'd ever know; it made you feel fully accepted into his life.

"What're you grinnin' about?", the gruff voice of your husband called effectively pulling you from your thoughts. He was sprawled across the couch, black tee bunched up just above his belly button allowing you a good view of his happy trail. That was another thing you were grateful for: a husband as kind and gorgeous as he was. "Megumi called me mom before he left.", you answered softly as you neared the couch.

A smile graced his lips, stretching the thin scar on the corner of them a little bit thinner as he patted his knee. "Bet that made you feel all kinds of giddy, huh?", he teased as you straddled him. You rolled your eyes playfully as you made yourself comfortable in his lap and gave his chest a light shove. "Of course it did! Feels like I'm finally a part of your family.", you replied to which he tutted at you and rested his hands on your hips.

"First of all, it's our family. Secondly, you know damn good and well that boy's crazy about you with or without the name.", he gently scolded from beneath you, "Shit, I am too.". You smirked while looking away bashfully, his hands tracing patterns into your skin flustering you even more. "Is that so?", you hummed after a second while looking down at him again.

Mischief and love glittered behind his emerald eyes, his hands lowering to grip your ass as he grinned up at you. "You know I am, mama.", he answered, and you giggled while shaking your head. You moved lower to sit on his legs, and he sat up to follow you. "There you go, always ruining the mood with your freaky ass.", you laughed, and your husband feigned innocence. "Whatchu mean, ma?", he asked while leaning in further, set on invading the space you were trying to create. You raised a knowing brow at him as you lightly pushed him away with your pointer finger.

"You only use that name when you're trying to get in my pants, Toji.", you responded flatly to which he chuckled slyly. "Can't blame a man for tryin'.", he muses whilst leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows, "Besides... seeing how whipped you are for our boy makes me wanna give you another one.". A swarm of butterflies fills your stomach at his confession, the room feeling all too warm much too fast. It never failed to amaze you just how easily he could chip away at your resolve. "Just one?", you question while reclaiming your spot on his lap, arms draping around his neck as you lean into him. Toji smirks as he begins to close the distance, dropping onto the couch fully and pulling you with him. "As many as you want, baby.", he hums as his lips finally find yours.

The kiss you share is slow and controlled, the shared heat chasing away the chill that'd been nipping at you all morning. As your lips continue to push and pull at his, the icy tips of his fingers trace patterns into your skin from beneath your sweater. A shiver creeps down your spine at the temperature difference, and you lean deeper into him seeking warmth. He provides more than warmth as his hands wander, drawing tiny gasps from you as he marks a trail across untouched skin; heat provides a heat that can't be synthesized, a fire that can't be put out.

Your hands begin to travel as well, moving up from his shoulders to play and tug at his inky locks. Your husband groans at the sensation, briefly breaking the kiss to let out a shaky sigh. "You're killing me, ma'.", he whispers between you two and you smile. "If you keep being good to me, I'll let you 'kill' something else.", you tease before your lips reconnect. The kiss deepens even more, your hands sliding between the both of you to begin tugging his top off him. Before you're able to, all the heat that'd built is sucked out of the room by the sound of the front door opening and familiar voices echoing through the house.

You gasp and scramble off Toji, hastily fixing your clothes as the sound of footsteps draws nearer. Your husband chuckles at your flustered state and pretends to go to watch T.V. "Hi, Mrs. F!! Hi, Mr. Toji!!", Itadori and Nobara shout as they file into the living room. You greet them warmly as they both hug you tightly, their skin cold from being outside.

"Quit it, you idiots. You're gonna make her cold!", Megumi scolds them from the door and they giggle. "Hello to you, too, 'Gumi.", you reply before nodding toward the kitchen, "There's hot chocolate and fresh cookies on the stove if you guys want. Help yourselves!". Itadori and Nobara shout excitedly before squeezing you again and bolting into the hallway.

Megumi rolls his eyes as he narrowly avoids being trampled, rushing to hug you once they've both gone. You chuckle at his bashfulness as you ruffle his hair. "Welcome back, honey.", you hum and you feel him relax into you.

A loud clatter sounds in the kitchen followed by mischievous giggles causing Megumi to stand upright. "If you guys have broken anything, 'm gonna kick your asses before mom can!", he shouts before marching off toward the kitchen as well. Toji clicks his tongue at his word choice and Megumi offers a half-sincere 'sorry' as he leaves the room. Once the coast is clear, he leans in to nip at your ear to whisper into your skin.

"Yeah, one's not gonna be enough after all."

[p0orbaby]

The Day The Music Died

summary: some people have to grow up before their time. At 17, you're already juggling a career, school, and a toxic secret. It's a heavy load for anyone, but for you, it's life.

warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, heavy themes; allusions to sexual assault/prostitution, drugs and alcohol, bullying

a/n: very loosely based off this request. it's a heavy one so please don't read if any of the warnings may make you uncomfortable

word count: 1.1k

-

School.

Them.

Training.

Homework.

Match day.

Recovery.

Homework.

Him.

You were tired. So so tired. But that’s what happens when you spread yourself too thin. And because it was your own fault you couldn’t complain. No one was forcing you to do this.

Football was already enough. At only 17 you were a starter for both club and country. So what was the point in school and exams and qualifications? The point is that nothing is permanent. Ever. No matter what anyone says, permanence isn’t certain. You have to have other avenues. Just in case.

Despite it all, you need the distraction. Football from exams and exams from, everything else.

The light in the attic bedroom is on when you get home. You cut the engine of your car, lean back against the headrest and sigh into the night. You helped your team get to a cup final tonight, you should be happy.

But the light in the attic bedroom is making you nervous.

-

“How is your revision prep going?”

You pull the sleeves of your thermals down over your hands when the wind picks up. Lia does the same. You think you’d both be used to the weather by now.

Your scoff travels in the breeze, “I’m up to my eyeballs in cue cards”

Lia offers a sympathetic smile. “I hear you,” she replies, her voice carrying a hint of understanding. “It’s tough juggling everything, but you’re doing great. Sleeping okay?”

No.

“Never better”. Her eyes narrow at you. It was a trick question, you realise. She can’t have missed the dark circles under your eyes. The consistent yawns you try to hide. “I’m fine, I promise”

-

Your skin itches. It always does after. That dirty feeling of shame and embarrassment. When belts are buckled and knees are tucked under chins.

Voices are muffled through the door. Not quite loud enough to hear what’s being said, but you can guess. Same time next week.

You kick yourself for growing up.

You fall asleep in the attic.

-

“You missed a pen yesterday”

You freeze as you step out of the cubicle. Your path to the sinks blocked by three of your least favourite people.

“Things happen” you mutter, your eyes fixed on the cracked tiles beneath your feet, unwilling to meet their eyes.

But the trio only laughs in your face, their cackling echoing cruelly in the cramped confines of the toilet. Layers of makeup crack under the force of their mirth, revealing the hollow emptiness beneath. The stench of cigarettes on their breath makes your stomach churn. You need to get to chemistry.

One of them steps forward, their gaze cold and calculating. “Should get fucking dropped,” they sneer, their words like a slap to the face.

Another one joins in. “And to think you play for our country? Pathetic,” they jeer, their words like a dagger aimed straight at your heart.

You feel the sting of tears threatening to spill over, but you refuse to let them see your pain. With a shaky breath, you push past them, their laughter following you like a sinister shadow. Chemistry. English. Training.

You hoped the attic stayed dark tonight.

-

“What’s all this?” You ask, eyes wide as you enter the changing rooms.

Banners and balloons adorn the walls, and your teammates gather around with smiles on their faces. Lia steps forward, a small cake in her hands, and presents it to you with a warm smile.

“What’s all this?” you ask, your voice barely discernible over the cheers and party poppers.

Lia’s smile widens, and she gestures to the decorations around the room. “It’s for you,” she says, her tone gentle yet filled with genuine affection. “Happy birthday”

You feel a lump form in your throat as you take in the scene before you. Despite everything, despite the challenges you face both on and off the field, your teammates have gone out of their way to make your birthday special. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you realise just how much this means to you.

“Thank you,” you manage to choke out, your voice thick with emotion. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

Lia steps forward and pulls you into a tight hug, her warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. “You don’t have to say anything,” she whispers, her words a soothing balm to your already shattered soul.

-

“You did good tonight”

Your brother's words are slurred as he enters the room and slumps into the chair in the corner.

“Thanks,” you mutter, your eyes fixed on the floor as you try to make yourself as small as possible.

But your brother doesn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he doesn’t care. He leans back in the chair, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated, and takes a swig from the bottle in his hand.

“You did good tonight,” he repeats, his words slurred and disjointed, his gaze unfocused as he stares off into the distance.

“There’s almost enough money,” he mutters, his speech slurred and disjointed. “I’m getting somewhere.”

You try to block out his words, to retreat into the safety of your own thoughts, but his voice is like a relentless tide, crashing against the walls of your mind with relentless force. You know better than to believe his lies, to put any stock in his hollow promises of success and prosperity. And yet, here you are, forced to listen to his drug-fueled delusions once again.

“I’m telling you,” he continues, his words becoming increasingly animated as he gestures wildly with his hands. “Once I make this deal, we’ll be set for life. No more worries, no more struggles. Just endless riches and success”

You take a deep breath, trying to push down the rising tide of frustration that threatens to overwhelm you. “You know, I could help you,” you offer tentatively, your voice laced with desperation. “I earn enough for both of us. Whatever you need, I can cover it”

But instead of gratitude, your brother’s eyes narrow, suspicion clouding his features. “What, you think I need your charity?” he snaps, his voice tinged with bitterness. “You think I can’t take care of myself?”

You recoil at the venom in his tone, the hurt evident in his words cutting you to the core. “No, I just…” you falter, struggling to find the right words to explain yourself.

But your brother cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand, his attention already drifting elsewhere. “Forget it,” he mutters, his voice growing distant as he sinks deeper into his drug-induced haze.

Happy birthday to you.

[zumek0]

draft 04; dostoevsky, f.

↪︎ fluff, fedya having a soft spot for his lover, reader is sick, gn reader, written with a fem reader in mind tho, references to irl dostoevsky’s life, surprise angst at the end, mentions of death.

↝ summary: when you become ill and are unable to fall asleep, he reads to you. the action feeling both familiar and distant to him.

You sneeze. Four times, actually.

You getting sick was highly inconvenient for Fyodor, as it prevented you from fulfilling your duties as a member of the Rats in the House of the Dead. He had to disregard plans and work his way around being down not only a member, but also the best assassin in the organization. Not to mention how it not only affected his organization, but also the Decay of Angels.

As annoyed as he was with the whole situation, seeing you in such a miserable state didn't bring him any kind of joy. On the contrary, he felt his heart hurt when he saw your teary eyes and heard your hoarse voice. Not that he would ever let you know that.

He stands up from his office set up and heads to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He can't concentrate, so he decides that he might as well check up on you. That is, of course, because he needs you to get better so you can get back to work immediately, and not because he heard you cough a little too much and a little too hard.

He places the glass on the bedside table. He hears you thank him weakly. "Are you okay?" he asks uninterestedly but scans your face for any kind of discomfort. "Tired..." you sneeze after you answer.

"Then sleep." He hands you a tissue, which you barely muster enough energy to take.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Fyodor sighs and then leaves the room. Your eyes start tearing up again, this time because you want him to stay with you. The whole image is comical: a killer as cold and ruthless as you, crying miserably because their boyfriend wouldn't spend time with them? Even if someone were to see it with their own eyes, it would be hard to believe.

Fyodor returns to the room with a book in hand. The cover torn and creased from the passage of time. It is Fyodor's favorite. Even if he rarely touched it, you knew he held a great fondness for that book in particular.

He lays down in the bed and looks at you expectantly. While your moves are slow, he waits patiently for you to make yourself comfortable against his chest. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked away slowly..."

His soft voice and regular heartbeat lulled you asleep.

A young dark haired man lies kneeling at the foot of his bed. His head is hung low and his fingers are intertwined. After he finishes his prayer with an "Amen", he gets up and heads for his mother's room.

He enters quietly and finds his father already there, sitting on a chair by his mother's side. Her head turns upon hearing the door opening and a warm yet tired smile makes home on her face.

"Fedyen'ka." Her voice, although strained and tired, sounds happy to see him. "Come here, my angel. Your father and I have something for you."

He is given a book.

On a late night while talking to his mother, he had entrusted her with the knowledge of his passion for literature. Talking about some of the books he had managed to get his hands on, weather by acquaintances of his lending him some, or by the old man in the shoe shop who let him stay a couple of hours after his work ended just so he could read some of the books that he kept in the backroom of his store. That night his mother promised him that for his sixteenth birthday, she would get him a book of his own.

She had never broken a promise, yet there were still two months until his birthday. Fyodor understood at that moment that his mother was probably going to die before that.

A simple "Thank you." is all he could muster.

That night he was unable to sleep. His father went out to tend to some business, so the house would've been completely silent if it weren't for the coughs of his mother.

He gets out of bed, grabbing the book from the wooden dresser next to the door to his room. When he enters his mother's room, the coughing stops.

"Oh, Fedechka, did I wake you up?"

"No, mother." He takes a glass of water from a table nearby and puts it up to her lips. She takes a few sips. "Are you unable to sleep?" She nods.

He leaves the glass back on the table and grabs his book. His mother's gaze follows him as he moves to sit on the chair where her husband usually sat beside her. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July..."

She falls asleep with a smile on her face as she listens to her son's voice.

Two days later, Maria Fedorovna Dostoevsky would pass away.

Fun fact: i spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to understand which Russian pet names and nicknames are most common, just to end up not using any because in my head they’re already speaking Russian.

If you recognize what he's reading, ur hot. Ahhh I'm so in love with fedya, but i’m not sure if i like how this turned out...

— han.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

👁️👄👁️ mayhaps g!p Donna X fem reader having morning sex. reader is a soft dom and has a praise kink. Reader just sweet talks Donna while she rocks her, then they go make breakfast after they manage to recover from their legs feeling like jelly lol

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

What a morning

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,

Word count: 4,147

Summary: You didn't want to get out of bed...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

“Come on, tesoro... Wake up.”

A soft voice interrupted your pleasant slumber.

To be honest, you couldn't know if you woke up from a dream, or were already living on it. You, who already thought that your life would be reduced to taking care of animals and praying to Mother Miranda, were more than satisfied with the turn that fate had for you.

The inclement weather in the region helped you get lost in the forest, and find who would be the love of your life along the way. Donna Beneviento, Lord and lonely woman, also met her own fate due to inclement weather.

At first sullen and distrustful, she didn’t feel comfortable with your presence. You could have died. You could have hallucinated until you fell off the cliff. You didn't, you survived her anger at someone snooping around her territory.

And not happy with having the privilege of continuing to live, love came later. Donna could be many things, but nothing that had anything to do with what people said about her in the village. She was just a woman tormented by her past, by her appearance. She just needed someone like you to make her life less dark, and you, you too.

“Mm, leave me alone...” You said, slapping the air, trying to get rid of her soft touch on your body. “Five minutes…”

"That's what you said ten minutes ago, (Y/N), come on, we have things to do,” Donna whispered, treacherously uncovering you. You groaned in annoyance and shook your head.

“Donna... Come on, come here...” You whispered with your voice still asleep, searching everywhere for the warmth of the body that was hugging you.

She laughed sheepishly, but she shook her head, getting out of bed. Not before giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

You sat on the bed, trying to cover yourself from the cold of that dark room. Well, at least that way you could clear your mind.

“I thought today we could go for a walk in the woods,” she commented, getting rid of her nightgown and combing the black hair that drove you crazy.

“Can I take the bed with me?” You asked jokingly, rubbing your eyes. She laughed again, shaking her head.

You sighed and lay face down, admiring that beauty that took you so long to discover. Sometimes you found it that it wasn't really a dream, hard to believe.

When she turned around, you had to force yourself to contain your laughter. Donna was always so shy, so embarrassed... It was a shame that her body thought for itself, marking a prominent bulge in her underwear, to which you raised your eyebrows and shuffled a little closer to her.

“Oh…. Wow... Wow...” You sighed amused, biting your lip. Yes, some morning passion could be enough to wake you up.

“What?” She asked, oblivious to where your eyes were pointing. When she looked down, and she realized what exactly you were devouring in your thoughts, she cringed in shame, putting her hands in front of her to push that glorious vision away from you. “Oh, I'm, I'm sorry,” she said shyly, her face growing redder.

You laughed, shaking your head, not looking away from her.

“Why are you sorry? I like to see you so... Happy,” you commented with a velvety, sensual and provocative tone. You just hoped she wouldn't run away that time, as was customary when her body did that kind of things, seemingly for no reason.

“Don't... Look so directly at me, it makes me nervous,” Donna protested, looking away and turning around.

You laughed again, getting up from the bed and slowly walking towards the lady to grab her waist.

“I like what I see,” you whispered in her ear, making her cringe at your cheeky whisper. “Hey, Donna… What do you think if we change the walk thing? The woods are so boring...”

She sighed, grabbing the hands that rested on her waist and slowly turning towards you, with a look of suspicion.

“Oh, and… So… Where do you want to go?” She asked, a bit nervous about the kisses you were beginning to place on her neck, smiling against her skin.

“I had thought that maybe... Instead of walking through the woods you could...” You murmured, caressing her skin gently, making her stay completely still on the wooden floor. “You could take a walk… Through my body.”

Donna laughed and turned around, which you took advantage of to kiss her before she could protest or make some kind of absurd excuse.

“(Y/N), you are...” The doll maker whispered, taking a breath after a few hungry and eager kisses, which matched caresses to her bare chest.

“Wonderful? Incredible? The best?” You asked jokingly, hanging onto her neck and walking slowly until Donna collided with the edge of the bed.

“Impatient,” she whispered, pulling on your lower lip, showing you that ​​taking a short walk on your bare skin was a good plan. Her body only emphasized her conformity.

“Mm, maybe I am,” you said, gently pushing Donna so she fell on the bed and you could climb onto her body, moving your hips so you could feel her erection against your skin, something that drove you crazy. “Do you know what you are?” You asked with a hungry smile, as you got rid of your pajama shirt.

“No... I don't know,” she responded, grabbing your hips with her hands, maintaining that constant movement against her body.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” you whispered affectionately in her ear, making her tremble even more. Yes, you were an absolute fan of compliments, especially because of the reaction that those soft and tender words provoked in Donna.

“You make me blush,” she said, amused, joining your kisses, gently caressing your bare chest while you moved your hips slower making her body protest with a moan.

“That's the intention...” You hissed, with a dark, almost perverse tone, slowly kissing her chest, every inch of her skin, making her eye close in pleasure. “Do you want me to tell you more things?”

Donna nodded, holding on to you to keep you steady as her nails scratched your back in arousal. You laughed, standing up, causing another moan from the brunette, who felt the lack of contact like a stream of ice water.

“Then be a good girl and lie down on the bed,” you whispered in her ear, gently pushing her onto the mattress. Donna hesitated, but it was hard for her to turn down the opportunity to love you in such an unexpected way.

It wasn't the first time you caught her off guard. Every corner of the old estate had already been desecrated by your lust.

Crawling comically, she obeyed your request, lying down and watching expectantly as your pants disappeared in one swift movement, causing her dark, anxious gaze to fall on those now exposed parts.

“That's it... You're so good, Donna... You're so, so good...” You whispered, climbing onto her body and continuing with that soft friction, with discreet but noticeable movements of your hips.

She smiled, caressing your cheek as you kissed her neck, her chest, her shoulders... It was not something improvised on your part, it was intentional. You wanted to see her burn with desire, beg you to be closer to her, to have your hands playing with what her underwear was pathetically trying to hide.

“Oh, my love, do you need something?” You asked amused, grabbing one of your breasts, making her gasp at the sight and want to join on that lascivious touch. You pushed her hand away from you, clicking your tongue. “No, no, Donna… I asked you a question.”

She smiled nervously, but she kept your gaze, lowering that impatient hand over your chest, over your belly...

“I need you, (Y/N),” she whispered with a marked accent, her voice hoarse with her own desire, something you hoped to hear, but that wasn't enough for that torture you enjoyed every day.

“You’re so romantic…” You joked, making her shrug and look at you expectantly. “You love me, right?”

Donna nodded, her gaze tender, her hips moving a little faster, relieving the pressure she had between her legs.

“I love you, (Y/N),” she said softly, pulling you into a passionate kiss, something you didn't stop, laughing triumphantly at her serenity despite her nervousness.

It was possible that she was trying to fight against your words of affection. Maybe she was trying not to seem like a victim who gave in easily to your charms. Unfortunately for poor Donna, that was something she had never achieved.

You moved away from her kiss with a sigh that feigned severity, guiding her hand to where she wanted to go a few moments ago, to your breast, grabbing it, playing with your nipple between her soft and skillful fingers. You gasped, but remained calm. No, no, no. You were having control of the situation. Her caresses and kisses couldn't make you give in.

“I love you too, my love... My beautiful Donna,” You whispered, lowering your body so it rubbed against hers. The dance of your hips was accompanied by the wet kisses of your lips, which felt the vibration of her moans from your sweet words.

Her mouth traveled to your neck, to your shoulders, leaving her room to kiss, closing your eyes and enjoying her soft caresses, that romantic touch so far from lust and closer to innocence. But that didn't stop her mouth from biting one of your nipples, from stopping her lips from landing on innocent corners.

You smiled satisfied, moving away to play with the hem of your underwear, which had been getting in your way for a while.

Donna paused for a moment, only to watch your nakedness displayed in front of her. You noticed and played with the garment between your fingers, pouting at Lady Beneviento, who looked at you with curiosity and a bright eye, almost desperate.

“Do you want me to take it off? Do you want that, my love?” You asked in a sweet voice, moving away from her hips so she moaned again from the lack of contact. You discreetly glanced down at where her erection was twitching outside of her own underwear. No, not yet, you still had to play a bit more.

She nodded, frustrated at the lack of contact, bringing a hand to her trembling shaft to compensate the lack of your touch. That made you raise your eyebrows and give her a gentle smack as punishment.

“Donna, don't do that...” You scolded in a childish voice, leaning towards her and staying very, very close to her lips. “Don't be mean, mm?”

She moaned in response, trying to kiss you, which you prevented by pulling away again, causing her to protest with another anxious moan and stronger movements of her hips.

“Please, (Y/N)” she begged, framing your body with her hands, moving them over your skin so the temptation to masturbate would disappear with the softness of your body on top of hers.

You smiled again, caressing her chest, running your hand down her belly, brushing her erection with your fingers, making Donna gasp at your soft touch.

“Tell me, Donna, do you want me to take it off?” You asked with that soft voice again, emphasizing the movement of your hands in your underwear, pretending to lower it but at the last moment, you didn’t do it.

“Yes, please,” she asked in a comically formal way. To be honest, your panties had been bothering you for a long time, so there was no need to prolong that torture.

The garment disappeared down your ankles under her watchful gaze as she released her shaft from its prison, moaning in relief.

You put a hand on her chest so her back collided with the mattress. Your gaze was calm and your caresses were gentle, almost grazing her skin rather than touching it, a sensation she approved with a moan, grabbing your hips to position you in the desired spot, lining up your wet entrance with her trembling shaft, glistening with arousal.

Amused by her haste, you backed away from her, shaking your head and leaning into her ear.

“Who is the impatient one now?” You asked ironically, making her smile nervously, cupping your face in her hands and pulling you to cover yourself again with kisses, to continue that erotic dance of your bodies moving, rubbing skin to skin.

“I want you, (Y/N)...” Donna whispered, in your ear, making your dominant position about to falter, just about to falter.

“You want me,” you repeated amused, kissing her neck again, biting her skin, leaving a small mark, which made her tremble even more.

Your tireless lips moved down her chest, your tongue playing with her nipples, causing her moans to be replaced by gasps of surprise at your skillful movements.

Their hands stopped being so anxious and caressed you in a tender, romantic way, passing through your hair, over your back, brushing with your legs, with your hips, running over your entire body as if they wanted to memorize it, as if they wanted not to touch anything that wasn't your skin.

“You're so soft, so beautiful,” you whispered, rocking your hips, brushing her erection with your body, but only brushing. “Your whole body, your skin, is like a miracle, Donna, you are my miracle.”

Her eye widened and her expression saddened with a melancholy smile. Anything you could say to her was enough to get her excited by your words of affection. Donna was always alone. She never had anyone to tell her the truth of her existence, an almost divine one for you.

“(Y/N),” she moaned into your lips, pulling your face so they crashed into hers again, this time with more passion, with your tongues dancing at the same time as your bodies. The atmosphere had forgotten about the cold, it was only warm, scorching, capable of making you sweat while the desire increased, while it became more and more unbearable.

Her kisses turned you on even more, her hunger, the tremors of her body, the hardness of her shaft rubbing against your crotch. Even if you had wanted to wait a little longer, you wouldn't have been able to, not at all.

“Okay, my love... Here we go...” You said softly, lowering your hand to correctly position her erection at your entrance, playing with the tip on your clit, making you close your eyes in pleasure, just like her.

Donna kicked the mattress at the eternal waiting, at the touch of her penis against your moisture, without actually entering it. You knew she was enjoying it, but you also knew she needed you, a lot.

Little by little you lowered your body, feeling how her shaft slid smoothly inside you. Your arousal made that job easier, and made you shudder.

“Donna, you're so... Big...” You said in a low, lascivious tone, making the blush on her cheeks worsen as your walls hugged her body, stretching little by little. “You are perfect, my love, my body takes you so well…”

“So good...” She repeated when she was completely inside of you and you danced so she could feel you even more. “You, you hug so tightly, (Y/N)... I, I’m feeling you so much...”

“That's because I love you so much, my love, my beautiful Donna... My good Donna,” you said affectionately, moving slowly up and down, letting your body enjoy that intruder, letting your walls continue hugging her while you moaned in a low, sensual tone, one that you knew would make her more and more nervous, more excited.

Your words of comfort only made her moans the complete opposite of yours. Her hips moved as they could under your body, making you feel full, making you feel she was inside of you, making you hers and loving you as only Donna could do.

“My body is made for you, do you see? My body adores you, Donna, I adore you...”  You continued saying among moans, letting her hands play with your hips, making your body move the way she wanted, the way she needed.

“I, ti amo...”

You laughed at the loss of control of her language, something that only happened at moments like this, something that only anticipated how close she was to her release. But no, it was still early for that, although your body screamed for you to let your own orgasm out.

“Wait, honey...” You said, pulling out and making her moan in surprise and frustration at the loss of contact. “Come, come here.”

You lay down, taking her place, gently pulling on her hand so her body was on top of yours. Donna didn't protest the lack of her body in yours, surely she was embarrassingly close to her own release, and she didn't want it to be so soon either.

After a few wet kisses, which revealed with gasps the desire and hunger of your lust you opened your legs slightly, making the brunette position herself between them, entering you again with a faster movement, making you moan in surprise.

“Donna...” You sighed with a mischievous smile on your mouth, running your hands along her back, scratching her skin while her thrusts sent huge waves of pleasure to your body. She smiled, but she didn't stop, leaning into your body, a gesture you already knew, and you knew what it meant.

“Oh… My love... Do you want me to hug you?” You asked, to which she nodded moving slower inside of you, making your hips lose that dominant control and move without your permission. She went even deeper and lowered her head to your chest.

You hugged her lovingly while her body adapted to that new position, while your hands played with her hair, while your body took her again, this time faster, revealing her need... And yours.

“Shh, calm down, my love... I'm here with you...” You said while you cradled her body while you kept her so close to you, flattering her, showing that unconditional love, that way of showing those feelings. “Donna, I'm so close...”

She moaned at those words and her hips moved a little faster, in an almost frantic rhythm, synchronized with your moans. Your walls hugged her erection with hunger, with the impatience that your face didn’t show. You let yourself be carried away by pleasure, closing your eyes and hugging her body tightly, letting only her movements take you to the limit, something that didn't take long to happen.

Your back tensed, your nails digging into her skin as your body suffered the spasms of an intense orgasm, one that you released with a moan you were sure would have made a few more cracks in the walls.

“Keep going, keep going, my love, you're doing so well...” You said when Donna stopped to contemplate the pleasure that her body was giving you.

With you now free of pressure, she no longer had to worry, and she resumed her movements in a much more intense way, in the way she knew she couldn't endure for long.

“Can I do it inside? Please,” Donna asked you with an intense moan, with that need forcing her to stop until she heard your response. You smiled, embarrassingly close to a second release.

“Of course, Donna, you've been so good,” you said in a condescending tone, gripping the sheets to hide your second orgasm, one that was revealed when Donna moaned again with one last thrust and her heat was released inside of you.

You clung to her body, not wanting to lose that overwhelming heat, that wet caress that made its way into your body. Donna fell to your chest, hugging it tightly as her seed filled you, while your walls played with that wetness, tightening with a second orgasm.

“It has been...” She sighed, taking a breath, smiling freely and with her bright eye, smiling in a tender, almost innocent way, almost.

“Amazing, like you, Donna,” you said affectionately, letting her leave you and lean better on your heaving chest, letting your fingers tangle in her black hair again.

“You are so flattering,” she murmured, playing with her finger on your chest, intertwining your legs, wet from your actions, from her release and your wetness mixed together. “You tell me some very nice things, (Y/N).”

“Do you like me to tell you?” You asked laughing amused. It was a little fetish of yours, but if it served to make Donna look at you with that face, so be it.

“I like it so bad... I... No one had ever said something like that to me or... Or done something like that to me,” she said with a slightly sadder tone, surely remembering the darkness of her past.

“That doesn't matter anymore, Donna, you are with me now, and I will never stop telling you how much I love you,” you said with a sincere tone, free of lust and any other feeling that wasn’t love. “Should we take a shower?”

The hot water ran down your exhausted bodies. It was a relaxing sensation and at the same time… Hot, very hot.

Donna hugged you from behind, resting her head on your shoulder while you enjoyed that romantic feeling, those arms tenderly embracing you. A shame your head turned to the path of sin when you turned around.

Without giving her time to protest, you launched yourself into her kisses, ones that she accepted willingly, hugging your body, keeping it very close to hers, making it so not even water could extinguish the flame of passion.

It may not have been something so slow and intense, but still, that moment of passion underwater was also worth remembering. It was a more unbridled, faster, more accelerated passion. Your body maintained balance while her arms served as support, feeling her inside of you again, feeling how she took you again, eagerly, without fear, without shame. What a day, and it had just begun.

“I'm so, so tired...” You murmured, leaning on the kitchen counter.

Once dressed, you decided to prepare breakfast. With your body and hers hidden under the fabric of your dresses, there was no longer any room for temptation, well, at least on her part. You just had to imagine her body inside yours like a few moments ago to feel that unbearable heat again.

“Me too, you’ve destroyed me, (Y/N)” Donna said amused, watching how the coffee maker did its work on the fire.

“Well, don't exaggerate,” you joked, running your hands up her back and peeking over her shoulder, stealing a quick, chaste kiss, to which she smiled shyly.

“My legs are shaking, (Y/N),” she commented, amused, moving the coffee maker off the heat and exaggerating her steps. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Me too, and I'm not complaining that much,” you said, putting the cup in front of you so that bitter liquid would clear your mind and divert your desire to sleep.

“You were complaining five minutes ago, tesoro,” she commented, pouring a coffee to herself and blowing out the heat.

“Well, but... I don't know, it was worth it, don't you think?” You asked feigning indifference, leaning next to her and looking at the rickety ceiling.

She nodded, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, sighing at the same time as you.

“What do you want us to do today?” She asked, diverting the conversation so your lascivious eyes wouldn't attack again. It's not that you didn't want to, your body was simply too tired to repeat... At least at that moment, there was a whole day ahead.

“I thought you wanted to go for a walk,” you joked, nudging her, to which she laughed again, making a funny face.

“I don't think I can walk more than five minutes, (Y/N)... I think, I think we could work on the dolls.”

“What you don't want is for me to attack you again, huh?” You asked mockingly, joking, of course. Joking, right?

“Well, that too,” she teased, gently pinching your chin and kissing your cheek lovingly, pulling away before you could make another move.

“I couldn't even if I wanted to,” you admitted, with a sigh, controlling the trembling of your legs. “Look at my legs, they look like jelly.”

Donna looked at you amused, and she shook her head at that comparison, suddenly putting on a serious face.

“I mention the dolls...” she whispered, thinking about something.

“It's true, where is Angie?” You asked, alarmed by the missing puppet, which should already be bothering you.

“I'm up here, you stupid clings! Whenever you want, you can stop making babies and come here to pay me some attention! You stupid morons!”

“Oh...” You sighed, embarrassed. “Do you think she is angry?”

[pablitogavii]

Hey I just wanted to tell you that I really like your stories. Your writing style is incredible and I'm always excited to read stories written by you. :) I hope you have an amazing day and take care of yourself!

Thank you so much! I really appreciate it! <333

Cold

You traveled with your boy to Germany to watch his next match for Champions and the moment you stepped out of the airport walking towards the cab, you knew Pablo was going to be grumpy about this weather. Pablo Gavi doesn't like the cold!!!

Hot Sevillano in him never gets used to sharp winds, rainy days and let alone such cold weather that it's here.

Bebitoo: did you get into the cab mi amor???

You smiled at how much he cares about every single detail when you travel separately especially when you're on your own. His family happened to be unable to come and so did his sister because of school, so you were his only supporter this time. Pablo always really appreciated you being there to support him during games.

"Mister,um...could I leave after the meeting and be back before dinner???" Pablo asked Xavi who knew really well where the boy wanted to go desperately.

"But no breaking the diet, chaval? Vale??" Xavi asked and Pablo promised thanking him with a big smile and texting you good news. Today was all for the two of you!!!

"And buy her flowers!" Xavi added tapping Pablo's shoulder with smirk while walking away and Pablo blushed nodding his head and taking the note from his coach.

"Amor! Amorrr! Abri!!!" you heard Pablo whining while standing in front of the door outside with the wind hitting his sensitive face. You opened hugging him excitedly happy to finally be together again.

"Are those for me???" you ask with the roses resting in his arms as he nodded with a smile.

"They're so beautiful Pablito! Gracias amor!!" you say taking and smelling them while he was jumping in place.

"Can we talk about them inside!? Porf!" he said and you chuckled letting him in and he immediately sighed in relief taking off his jacket and walking to the living room to grab a thick blanket.

"Are you really that cold???" you chuckle seeing him snuggle dup in the blanket so only his dark orbs were staring back at you. Que fofino!!!

"YES! It's freezing here! Joderrr!" Pablo said and you chuckled offering to make him some warm tea he immediately liked while walking to figure out how to turn on the fireplace.

"Here's some camomile and honey for mi frozen Pablito" you chuckle putting it on the table smiling wide when you saw that he turned on the fire place and made a little cozy fort in front of it.

"Venga aqui conmigo amorcito!!!"he said opening the blanket shortly for yo to join him and then engulfing you both with it as you faced the burning fire.

"Want your tea while it's hot amor???" you said and he nodded as you reached and gave it to him smiling when you saw his little red nose and his blushed cheeks as he got warmer now.

"Te gusta???" you ask and he nodded putting it down and kissing the top of your head while you rested your back against his strong chest enjoying the way having him around feels.

"It's perfect..." he said and you smiled looking up and he was already staring at your lips before leaning down and kissing passionately.

"Hmm..how long do I have you for Pablito?" you ask after you pulled away slowly clearly in awe with each other's feeling of love.

"You have me siempre amorcito..." he said smartly and you blushed nodding your head and leaning up to peck him quickly once more,

"You know what I mean...when do you need to be back???" you ask playing with his hoodie while he combed through your hair making you very sleepy.

"We have time princesa...relax" he said pulling you back and starting to massage your shoulders soothingly as you became even more sleepy thank to his ministrations.

"You're making me sleepy so that I don't make you go for a walk with me..." you chuckle and he nodded kissing the top of your head again.

"I love you amorcito...mucho...but I am NOT going out there in that freezing hell!" he said making you laugh and nod your head while cuddle up closer to him enjoying the warmth yourself.

"It's really not that bad. You are just too hot mi Sevillano" you said and he smirked looking down at your innocent face. You knew well what you were doing to him with this.

"Mala...princesa muy muy mala" he smirked and you chuckled as you both enjoyed cuddles before you fell asleep.

"Amorcito...time to wake up preciosa???" Pablo was slowly shaking your body while kissing you lovingly and you whined nuzzling further into his neck. You were so warm...it was perfect.

"Nooooo...so warm!!!" you said and he chuckled raising your chin to kiss your lips lovingly.

"Now you're the one who wants the warmth huh princesa???" he chuckled and you nodded kissing him back and reaching to touch his fluffy hair.

"I need to go back soon preciosa..." he said and you pouted that it was already time and that you will need to sleep alone tonight...ugh, you hated that!!!

"How am I going to sleep without you Pablitooo?" you said adorably and he couldn't help his smile while kissing your lips again.

"We'll be on face time until you fall asleep, vale?" he asked tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and you blush nodding and really liked your little routine when he was away from home.

"But who is gonna warm me up when I get back to the hotel???" Pablo said and you smirked pecking his lips a few times which he really much enjoyed right now.

"Hmm Pedri" you said into the kiss making you both burst out in laughter while getting up from the blankets and walking towards the front door.

"I am going to miss you so much..." he said holding you still not able to let go and open that front door. Ugh this was always the hardest!!!

"Hmm me too...nothing matchess your hands around and you night kisses" you say pecking his bottom lip and he smiles nodding his head and kissing your forehead.

"We will see each other tomorrow" you add and he nods but when you tried to move to let him go he wouldn't budge.

"You have to let me go Pablitooo..." you say but he just pulls you closer nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Your'e so warmmmm!!! And it's so cold outside!!!" he said and you chuckle kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead and finally lips. He finally let go putting on his jacket about to leave when something popped into your head.

"Pablo! Wait!!" you say and he turns around smirking when you ran to the bedroom to grab your special blanket giving it to him.

"It's my warming blanket...smells like us" you say with a blush and he nods taking it and kissing you lips lovingly.

"I love you amorcito..." he said and you smile nodding your head kissing him back.

"I love you too" you say opening the door and he whines stepping out as you chuckled.

"Bye preciosa..." he said pouting and you send him a kiss.

"bye pablitoo.." you say as he got into the cab and you closed the door already missing him but excited to see him again tomorrow <333

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 60: Fitz's Arrival

Prev > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, "kidnapping"

October 1925

The fog was thick and foreboding, the night chill and damp, as Alexander and Oliver made their way to the harbor district. Oliver was bundled in a fine wool coat lined with fur, a thick scarf and a practical hat, all provided by his master for his comfort, but he still felt a bit of the chill. Or perhaps it wasn't the weather at all, but his trepidation at meeting another vampire -- although this was, at least, one that his master trusted.

Alexander, on the other hand, seemed to have an unusual spring in his step despite the gloomy weather. Oliver thought that it might be the first time he'd noticed his master humming when it wasn't for the purpose of enthrallment. He'd been quite eager to get Oliver out the door, as well, explaining that his companion might get bored if he were left to wait long.

And so they were here on the docks with only a few dim gas lamps and a waning moon to keep Oliver from being as unable to see as when his eyes had been forced shut. Alexander had no such trouble, leading Oliver through the maze of crates and workers with ease.

"Hm, I thought he would be around here," said Alexander, brow furrowed. "Oliver, you wait here for a moment while I look around."

The last thing Oliver wanted was to be left alone in the dark. "But sir --"

A hand clapped over his mouth, an arm wrapped around him, and he was pulled backwards into the fog.

"Now, don't you worry," said a low, persuasive voice very near his ear. "You've got nothing to worry about. Trust me."

Oliver let out a muffled cry, hoping his master could hear, as he kicked at his assailant. He was unnaturally strong and the hand on his face was freezing cold -- a vampire, no doubt. His master's friend? But why would his master's friend…

"Ooh, you're more feisty than I expected. Just relax, okay? I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax…"

The hand on his face didn't feel cold any more, quite the opposite. A sensation of delicious warmth seemed to be radiating from the vampire, dulling Oliver's senses and enticing him to be at ease.

"There you go! Just be quiet," he said in a tone that made it very clear he knew the effect it would have on Oliver. "You can be quiet for me, can't you? So, so quiet…"

Oliver struggled to fight the twin effects of the euphoric touch and repeated hypnotic triggers, but he was rapidly losing. All his mind wanted to do was sink into this feeling of delicious drowsiness. "Master…" he called weakly.

"I told you, don't worry. Your master knows exactly where you are. Everything is going to be fine," said the vampire, and Oliver couldn't help but believe him. He certainly felt like everything was going to be fine as he slumped over in the stranger's arms.

The vampire removed his hand from Oliver's face, pinning him against a warehouse wall and running a gentle hand down his cheek and through his hair. The touch felt like nothing Oliver had experienced before, like cool, fresh water given to a parched man, drinking it in as much as he could and still not having enough. As the vampire became barely visible in the dim light, Oliver could see golden hair and a brash, confident grin, the face of a con-man who knew he was going to get away with it. He pressed his head into the vampire's hand, trying to get more of the heavenly touch, eyes half-lidded and already far gone.

"You were right, Lex," said the vampire. "He's absolutely ideal, a real treasure."

"Just as I told you." Alexander emerged from the fog. He looked calm, even happy, even though his thrall was currently very much in the clutches of another vampire. Even through Oliver's daze, he realized that this vampire really must be his master's friend, Fitz. "Have you had your fill of terrorizing poor Oliver, yet?"

"Terrorizing?" Fitz's laugh was as untrustworthy as his smile. "Why, Lex, I would never! Does your Oliver look terrorized to you?" He was practically pressed against Oliver now, brushing Oliver's hair from his eyes, running a finger down the side of his face and letting it linger on his lips.

Oliver could feel the euphoric delight of Fitz's touch even more strongly now, and with his master safely nearby and unconcerned, any desire he had to resist gave way to pleasure. "Mmm," he said, not even fully aware of how shamelessly he was nuzzling into Fitz's hand. His mind was fading away, only able to focus on how he needed more.

"You see, he's not terrorized at all. Are you, Oliver? Are you scared of me?"

"No, sir," he said, blinking slowly. "Not at all."

"I suppose you're all right then, aren't you?" said Alexander, and his master was at his side now, running his hand through Oliver's hair.

Oliver thought he might melt in this spot from the sheer pleasure, his knees growing weak. "I'm all right, sir," he said dreamily.

"Good boy," Fitz murmured into his ear. "You're very good for your master, aren't you?"

"I want to please him more than anything, sir…"

"Fitz," said Alexander with a hint of warning. "Do you really want to do this on a filthy, cold dock, when we could be entrancing Oliver in my library or bedroom?"

An involuntary shudder rippled through Oliver at the prospect of being taken into his master's bedroom to be entranced by him and his friend.

Fitz let out a dramatic mock sigh. "You have a point. I guess if I've been waiting this long, I can wait a little longer. Besides, I haven't greeted you properly yet."

"What do you mean…?"

Fitz relinquished his grasp on Oliver and scooped Alexander into his arms, twirling him around as though they were schoolchildren. Oliver shook himself a bit out of his trance to watch them. Alexander had a genuinely bright smile on his face in a way Oliver had never seen before, not even when Oliver was a free man and a shopkeep providing Alexander with a long sought after book, not even when his master drank. They kissed, and the kisses drew lower, down each other's necks…

So this was what truly pleased his master. Was it jealousy he felt? Perhaps he'd become used to being the center of Alexander's world, a comfort in captivity.

"They're always like this."

Oliver yelped at the voice right behind him, turning around to see a taller man with a plain brown suit and equally plain brown hair. He was dragging a huge steamer trunk behind him, and Oliver wasn't sure how he didn't hear this man's approach.

"Sorry, I didn't meant to startle you," he said. "You must be Oliver. I'm Roger, and I belong to the vampire you just… well, I suppose "met" isn't exactly the right word for it."

"Oh! You're a thrall, too?" Oliver was pleased that Fitz had brought along a thrall for him to talk to, especially one who seemed very put together. He held out his hand to shake. "It's good to meet you!"

Roger's handshake was firm. "Likewise. I hope my master's prank wasn't too troublesome."

"Well, it was surprising… but I can see now that he wasn't going to harm me."

Fitz, having put Alexander back on the ground, wrapped an arm around Roger. "My ears are burning. Are you talking about me?"

"I just think that you didn't have to manhandle Oliver by way of greeting, sir."

"How could I resist? You just don't understand how blood like yours and Oliver's smells. If you were in my shoes, you couldn't resist, either," He turned to Oliver. "But I guess I didn't properly introduce myself. I'm Fitz, an old friend of your master's."

"Nice to meet you, sir," said Oliver, shaking Fitz's outstretched hand. "My master told me a bit about you."

"About how handsome and charming I am, no doubt," said Fitz, using the contact to pull Oliver closer. Oliver could feel the drowsy trance stealing over him again as he mindlessly shook Fitz's hand.

"Perhaps, but also about how you can't leave well enough alone." Alexander's hands closed around Oliver's shoulders, and he gently pulled him away from Fitz. "We should head back to the manor, not stand on the docks until the sun comes up."

"Of course." Fitz flashed a cheeky smile at Oliver, and Oliver couldn't quite make up his mind about this vampire. He could feel himself crave more of that touch, and wasn't sure he liked the hold it already had on him.

"You're not seriously making Roger drag your luggage, are you, when you could easily do it yourself?" Alexander asked, taking the handle of the steamer trunk from Roger.

"Roger doesn't mind. That's what thralls are for, right?"

Roger ignored him. "Thank you for taking the luggage, sir," he said to Alexander.

"It's no problem."

The group began to make their way out of the chill and foggy docks and into the slightly more hospitable city streets. "So how was your voyage, Fitz? As miserable as you made it seem?"

"Miserable and more! There was a storm the first night. The seas were so rough that I could barely even stay put in my bunk. Roger here was an absolute saint, comforting me in my hour of need."

"I believe you spent half the voyage gnawing on my neck, sir."

"Just little sips! It calms the mind, you know," said Fitz. "And how have you been, Lex? Apart from the…" He gestured towards Alexander's bandaged hand.

"Fine, apart from the unwelcome visit of my sire. But we shouldn't speak of such unhappy things now that you've arrived. This wound will heal quickly once I drink, but I was making sure to save Oliver for the both of us to share."

Fitz's arms wound around Alexander's waist. "That's very thoughtful of you. We'd better get home quickly, then."

…So they were going to drink from him shortly after arriving at the manor. Oliver tried not to feel a bit of a thrill from it. He was less scared of Fitz feeding from him after his experience on the docks.

Soon enough, they arrived back home. Fitz spread out his arms and took a deep breath. "Ahhhh, how I missed that musty old library smell."

Alexander was taking his shoes off, and as soon as he had, Fitz had him pressed up against the wall. "We're not on the docks any more, and my patience has run out." He caught Alexander with a fierce, shameless, deep kiss, one which seemed to last forever. Alexander groped at his back, pulling him closer.

Oliver stared down at the floor, mortified, not sure what he should be doing, until Roger loudly cleared his throat.

"Ah, Roger," said Fitz, entirely too casually as he came up for air. "Why don't you and Oliver entertain each other for a bit?"

"Yes, that's a good idea." Alexander seemed strained, as if pulling himself away from Fitz required all of his effort. "You can have your pick of guest rooms on the second floor - Oliver can show you to them. And if you want any refreshments, the kitchen is all yours. We just have some… matters to attend to."

"'Matters to attend to.'" Fitz laughed. "You never change, do you?"

"No, generally I don't." He swept up Fitz easily into his arms and dashed up the stairs to the third floor, Fitz laughing all the way.

Oliver watched after them with a mix of curiosity and jealousy. He'd half expected the hungry vampires to enthrall and feed from him the second they reached home, and couldn't help a bit of disappointment that they hadn't. Perhaps that would come later. No doubt Fitz would be occupying his master's bed instead of him.

"Don't you think they're a bit ridiculous?" said Roger.

"Oh… I suppose they are, yes," said Oliver. It almost seemed a bit forbidden to admit that his master could be ridiculous, even though it had crossed his mind before. If he was going to have to accompany Roger while Alexander and Fitz entertained each other, he was glad that he seemed to be a very lucid thrall, unafraid of his master. That was a good sign, too, for what sort of vampire Fitz was. "Is there anything I can get for you? I could show you to a room, or if you wanted some food or drink…"

"I'd very much appreciate food and drink, if it's not too much trouble. The ship had ample food, but the serving times weren't ideal for a nocturnal schedule."

"Of course it isn't trouble," said Oliver, pleased to be helpful. "How about a sandwich, then? The bread is yesterday's, but we have some fine ham and salami and other trimmings."

"That'll do. Thank you."

Oliver led Roger into the kitchen, casting one last glance up the stairs, wondering what his master and his master's friend were doing now.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Thank you for reading sixty parts of The Rare Bookseller! I've been looking forward to this chapter for a while.

Next week, the aftermath of Fitz's kidnapping in 1905.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@xx-adam-xx @vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

@fuckcapitalismasshole @slightlydisturbedbeans @paperprinxe @demetercabingreen-thumb @the-broken-pen

@pokemaniacgemini @jumpywhumpywriter

[tsxkkis]

# iwaizumi hajime - won't let go

a/n = i'm not the best at writing hurt/comfort type of stuff, but i hope this piece is alright ^^ also we love iwaizumi on this acc sm he's the man fr.

summary = after an argument, iwaizumi needs to apologize.

warnings = one swear word, argument, idk what else.

the sound of rain hitting the ground came from behind your window, being the only thing disrupting the silence inside. the storm was getting heavier with each passing hour, taking you and many others by surprise, since the last few weeks have all been sunny and warm. luckily you didn't go outside today; or the day before, or two days before, or ever since the argument.

the last thing you expected, in this type of weather especially, was to hear a knock on the door. you didn't order anything, and your parents were supposed to come back from their trip on sunday. so who could it possibly be?

you slowly opened the door only to be met with the tall, dark-haired boy, his clothes soaking wet from the rain, hair sticking to his forehead.

iwaizumi.

"what are you doing her-"

your words were quickly cut off by the boy, his eyes locked on the ground in front of him before his head went up, his focus now on your face.

"i'm sorry."

you were used to the fact that iwaizumi didn't show much emotion on his face, but you also knew one other thing. his eyes would always tell the truth. and right now, as you stared into them, you were positive about how genuine his words were.

"iwa, we can't go on like this if you don't trust me."

he knew you were right. after all, that was the most crucial part of a relationship; trusting one another wholeheartedly. and iwaizumi trusted you, there was no doubt of that. but something was different that day.

maybe it was the fact that he was mad after losing the match. maybe it was how jealous he was at the smile you gave to the karasuno members, how you celebrated with them after they won. but all of those things just rubbed him the wrong way.

he knew that you were their manager, but you were also his girlfriend. and something made him feel betrayed that day.

"maybe we shouldn't continue this, then."

his words felt like a knife going right through your heart. you could feel your eyes getting watery the very moment they left iwaizumi's mouth. as you looked down, trying to hold back the tears as well as thinking of what you should say back to him, you heard kiyoko, one of your fellow managers, calling you from the other side of the hall, since there was a team meeting before the next game.

you turned around and left, without a word, wiping away the single tear that managed to slip and roll down your cheek, assuring your friends that yes, everything is okay.

oh, what a lie that was.

you didn't see him since last week. in the meantime, karasuno managed to win the final and secure their place in nationals, and as happy as you were for your team, you couldn't help but shake the sadness away after what happened between you and iwaizumi.

"come inside. you're gonna catch a cold." a deep sigh left your lips as you gestured for him to enter the house, closing the door behind him. you quickly turned around heading towards the bathroom. "you're soaking wet. i'll grab you a towel."

"please, listen to me first." iwaizumi's voice sounded desperate as it echoed from behind you, his hand reaching out to gently grab you by the arm.

"not until i'm sure you won't get sick." you looked at him for a spare second, and he decided not to stop you. he waited patiently in the hallway, reaching out to take the towel you handed him the moment you stepped out of the bathroom, along with a hoodie and pants for him to change into.

his hoodie and his pants. ones that he left in your house on purpose, ones you always used as pajamas when the nights got cold.

as you stood there in silence, watching iwaizumi dry his hair, you couldn't help but realize how awkward it all felt. it was never this way between you two; you could spend hours without speaking, just spending quality time with each other and it just felt right. but now, after the argument it was different. and you didn't enjoy that at all.

"i'm sorry. about what i said after the game." he took a deep breath, looking up at you, his words disrupting the silence. "i was just, jealous. and mad. i was mad after losing that match, and it made me even more furious to see that you were so, happy."

you didn't bother to interrupt him, letting him explain everything.

"i know you're their manager, and you felt happy your team won. i completely understand that. it would be weird if you weren't cheering them on. i just couldn't help but feel bad." his eyes were glued to the floor, the overwhelming feeling of shame taking over him. "i know that i fucked up, really badly, and there's nothing to excuse what i said that day." iwaizumi could feel the tears starting to form, but he did his best not to let them spill, a shaky breath escaping his lips. "i just need you to know that- that i don't feel that way. i don't think we shouldn't continue this thing that we have. because i love you. i love you too much to lose you like this, to lose you because of my stupid actions."

your eyes widened at his words. there it was.

the first time he ever said those words.

you took a step towards him, your hand reaching out to gently lay down on his cheek, a small yet warm and gentle smile gracing your face.

"it's okay, hajime." your words sounded so soothing to him, you're voice calming and soft, even though millions of emotions were going through you that moment. "i accept your apology. i just couldn't help but feel hurt by your words that day, you know. i think it's quite understandable."

he looked up at you, nodding in response, as his hand instinctively went up to yours, thumb trailing little circles on the outer part of it.

"and, one more thing." he had a questioning look on his face, his head tilted to the side as he heard your words, your body moving just a little bit closer to him. "i love you too."

a shy smile appeared on his face, his fingers interlocked with yours as you stared at each other, both happy inside that this situation was over with.

"it's still raining. you can stay here until it stops, if you want."

iwaizumi squeezed your hand, his smile noticeably growing as he heard it.

"i would love to."

taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan

[anakinsbaee]

misses - pt.3 M.S

summary: in which matt's meets y/n again (matts pov ill make pt.4 maybe of them meeting)

warnings: use of y/n, not proofread, exbsf!matt, no smut, angst, sad, mention of love

a/n: i hate this bro i wanna rip my hair out i WILL CRASH OUT WTF.

mama a girl behind YOU💜

Matt’s POV

Time hasn’t felt so fast.

I’m in L.A, with my siblings, in our own house.

I never had the time to process anything. Posting was the only thing on my mind– and, well– someone else.

I never thought any of this was going to happen within the span of 4 years, kinda crazy to think about.

I scrolled on my phone mindlessly, I just felt so drained from the past few weeks. I kept on thinking about the dream I had a few days ago, it keeps replaying, again and again in my head.

God, I miss her.

“Baby, wake up.” A soft and light voice whispers into my ear. I look up to see her– my heart drops. Y/N.

I haven’t seen her forever.

A white flowy dress surrounds her, she looked so happy. Her smile reflected onto me like a mirror image. Her eyes glint softly.

The last time I saw her, her eyes were wrongly deep and dark, her smile was not to be seen.

She looked restless.

I left her at her lowest.

“Yes?” I hummed, pulling her close to me, squeezing her sides.

“Don’t forget about me, hm?” She looked directly into my eyes, her eyebrows drawn up in the inner corners. A slight panicked look flashes in her eyes when I don't respond.

Then she slowly drifts away, curling up into a ball. And shutting me out

I jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum. The pain— it never stops. It’s always there, a dull ache that sharpens with every thought of her. Just a fleeting memory of her, and I’m spiraling again, caught in the undertow of that silent, unforgettable laugh of hers. I can still feel the playful smack of her hand, see the way her eyes would glisten with unshed tears.

The memory of her talking about how much she came to love Autumn. How she loved that the trees had the weight off their branches, just how she felt when she was around me.

She loved how the weather grew colder, which were more excuses to cuddle.

To be closer to me.

I was so blind.

Now I can’t even think about Autumn without wanting to be near her.

I loved her– a lot. 

I never realized it.

That word wouldn’t dare to cross my mind.

No– I wouldn’t let myself think of her that way.

I would ruin everything I had built.

I was so stupid.

The only thing I had for her is love.

And it still stands.

She awakened something in me that no one else ever had. With her, I felt a love that was deep and real, like I was truly cherished in a way I never thought possible. I knew how much she cared for me—how she never wanted to leave my side, and it filled me with a warmth I couldn't describe.

And I felt it too, I needed to be there for everything.

I wanted to be her everything.

-

In my head I decided since we were already in Boston to stop at a restaurant to grab something to eat before we headed home. But Nick and Chris had other plans.

“Pleasee, cmon Matt, we haven't been at the park in ages.” He whined, pleading to go to our old hangout spot.

“Chris, it’s literally 3am. No fuckin’ way.” I argued back, raising my voice.

“Matt, it’s literally on the way home just go I don’t wanna hear Chris’ whining.” Nick sighed, and rolled his eyes and he placed his phone down.

I groaned, making a right turn, heading us to the park.

Chris cheered silently, turning to Nick as he celebrated.

-

Hours passed and now it’s almost 6am. Nick and Chris retired to the car, now I’m here alone. I walked around listening to our favorite song.

Bags.

She loved Clairo.

She said that Clairo sang the unspoken things she could ever dare to say.

I got up from my seat and decided to walk to our designated hangout bench in the park.

I dragged my feet against the concrete. I still could hear the commotion of the traffic around me and the trees dancing in the wind.

Upon reaching the bench I spotted a figure huddled on our bench, a huge puffer jacket and seemed to be slightly shivering.

I didn’t think too much of it but I could recognize that jacket from anywhere.

Nah, no way it’s not her. Anyone could have that jacket.

The figure looked up and my heart dropped. I stopped in my tracks.

It’s her.

I felt like puking, my hands shaking.

I swallowed and croaked out.

“Y/N? I said, baffled, trying to make sure it was actually her.

She looked up, she was clearly out of it. Her eyes focused and narrowed at me.

Does she hate me? I swallowed hard.

“Matt?” 

Her voice trembled, barely more than a whisper, and her skin was pale and clammy, making her look fragile and ill. I could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the shadows beneath them dark and heavy. A surge of anxiety crashed over me like a wave, my chest tightening with each shallow breath. 

I felt a knot twist in my stomach, my heart racing with fear and helplessness. Was someone bothering her? Was she getting hurt? Is she doing drugs? 

“What the- What’re you doing here?” Was the only thing that came to my head when I asked her. I was speechless. I thought of this situation millions of times, and now It’s happening and I blanked out on her. My heart hasn’t slowed down, I feel like I’m going to faint right here.

She went silent.

She’s mad at me. I fucked up, theres no going back.

“U-um, I’m just- trying to get a break from all the work.” She cleared her throat, sitting back.

Silence filled the gap between you. You wished that she understood everything that was going through your head. You wish you could tell her everything, but it’d just be a hopeless and a final goodbye.

“Oh, obviously.” I shuttered, that was so stupid to ask. “Um, it’s weird to see you here, at 5- almost 6am.” I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes, I chuckled dryly, licking my lips.

She pursed her lips “Same to you. I thought you were at L.A?” She demanded.

I paused, I couldn’t think. Fuck “Oh. About that, I’m sorry I never talked to you. I just- I couldn’t get the courage to tell you, that’d-” I rambled, sounding like an idiot. My head falling into my hand. Wincing at my excuse.

“I couldn’t tell you that I was moving there.” My voice cut through the cold air, firm and clean.

“I never understood why you wouldn’t tell me that, especially after you told me specifically that you’d never move there.” Her brows knitted together at the center. Her voice full of concern.

She exhaled, sounding exhausted. Like she knew my answer.

“Our manager, we just listened to her. And I feel like I just betrayed you– And I know, I’m so, so, so sorry.”  I begged her, silently to understand.

Her head moved in a quick, dismissive shake. “You know me. You. know. me, Matt. That’s the crazy thing.” She let out a humorless chuckle. She stood up swiftly.

“I wouldn’t ever get mad at you for leaving to move to L.A, yeah sure I’d be confused but that’s the thing. I love you enough to understand.” She spewed out aggressively. Her eyes glossy

My heart hurt. So much more. I did this to her. She loved me. I do too.

“I love you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”   I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of defeat settle in my chest. I wished I knew — God, how I wished I did. The helplessness gnawed at me, a relentless ache that twisted in my gut. I really, truly wished I had the answer.

“I didn’t tell you because it would ruin everything I wanted not to slip away from my grasp, I didn’t want my love to drive me away from this– and not that it worked, you still left. You left a hole through my already tender heart. I haven’t healed, not even a bit. I’m sore, I can’t sleep, can't eat. I can’t do anything.” 

“It wouldn’t have ruined anything” I whispered, softly.

 Those words gnawing at my exposed flesh, it was true. But it hurts, so fucking bad. It’s all in the past. 

We are talking about the past.

-

I hear my siblings call for me.

I turned to look at her but she’s already facing the other direction. Turned away from me tapping repeatedly on her phone.

“I’ll text you–” I begged her.

She nodded, “okay.” Her voice was a silent and hurtful whisper.

“I– I have so much to say. We can meet up and talk about it..” I offered. Praying she’d accept it.

She nodded again. A half smile appeared on her face.

Nothing like her true smile.

It’s like she lost herself.

Like I lost her.

We lost each other I guess.

tags: @imafuckingsimp

ask to be added on the taglist :)

[turvi]

And I Love You So

All the images are taken from Pinterest.

"Severus and Y/n"

Severus groaned when he heard Professor Slughorn announce his new partner for potions. He thought he had impressed Slughorn enough to let him work individually, but the professor claimed that the other students could use his help.

He watched Y/n approach his desk. She looked so happy and bright. He rolled his eyes, distracting himself by collecting ingredients he would need to make potions. For now, Severus was glad that she was quiet until-

"Hey, I am Y/n L/n."

"I know"

This was how the majority of their time went by. Y/n would try to talk to Severus only to get a maximum of two words out of him. At times she could feel him getting restless beside her.

"You are putting too much Dittany root." His fingers twitched as he shifted his weight on his feet.

"Don't worry, Severus...I know what I am doing. Just wait and watch."

He scratched his head and watched as anxiety filled his chest. "It's too much it will explode on your face."

"Aww, Severus you care about me."

Severus looked at her with a disappointed look. "I care about you ruining such an easy potion."

"Trust me, Severus, I got this," Y/n said, patting his arm. Severus shivered when he felt her touch. It was so gentle and warm. His hands were never warm.

"Your hand is warm." He cupped his mouth instantly, not believing the words that came out of his mouth. It was an observation. Nothing...too bad, right? But then he saw Y/n smiling at him.

"Pay attention to your potion" He went back to stirring his potion. He never felt so warm. Probably the temperature is rising. He observed her potion and saw the dark shade of purple forming. While his potion was in a lighter shade.

What made it worse was that Slughorn gave Y/n extra credit for creating the perfect potion. He should have felt defeated and jealous. But she just looked so beautiful standing there smiling at him. What did he do for her to smile at him like that? Like a sweet summer, she shone bright, and she was so warm.

Severus shook his head. "I need a drink." He watched Y/n approach their desk with a smug smile. Severus gave a defeated sigh. "What?"

"Maybe you should put more dittany roots in your potion next time" She looked at him with a mischievous smile, and Severus let her win this time.

..........................................

A few months went by. The season of thunder and rainfall was here, indicating a bitter goodbye to the summer. He sat at the usual desk waiting for his partner- potions partner.

He felt her before he saw her. Her energy was so bright he could spot her in a crowd with his eyes closed. He waited patiently. Severus knew what she was going to say. "Did you hear the thunder?."

"Did you hear the thunder?" Y/n said and frowned when Severus chuckled. "What are you laughing about?"

"Y/n, you have been pestering me about monsoon since the start of our new term. I know how the sound of thunder and rain comforts you, and you love to dance in the rain like an idiot." His tone was more amusing than taunting, and Y/n knew.

"Ahh...so you listen to everything I say. And you say you don't care."

Severus smirked at her."I don't, darling, but you sit beside me regularly voicing your love for monsoon."

For the first time, Y/n was quiet. Her heart pounded against her chest at how he smirked at her and called her darling. She felt nice. She realised she liked seeing him smile.

After the class was over, it started raining again. "Come on, let's go."

"Y/n, where are we going. Slow down."

She didn't reply to him and walked out in the rain. "Y/n, come back. You will get sick."

Y/n twirled and let out a happy squeal. "Yeah, I will, but at least I am enjoying it right now."

Severus shook his head. The sound of her laughter felt like a warm hug in this cold weather. "Come on Sev, dance with me."

He shook his head. "No. I am not stupid like you. I don't want to get sick."

"Please, Severus, just once...then I won't bother you, please." she extended her hand. Severus had a lot of worries. What if someone saw him dancing with her? What if they get sick, what if they slip and fall. But her smile. He couldn't think of a reason someone would smile because of him. But here she was so happy and excited at the idea of dancing with him.

He cautiously held her hand and let the raindrops fall on him. His eyes widened when he felt her hand on his waist, his hands finding her shoulder and waist, drawing her closer to him.

Severus heard whispers and snickers in the background, but he just couldn't take his eyes away from her. The sound of rain and her humming drowned the sound of the whispers and snickers. He frowned only because he couldn't kiss her, thank her, or worship her just because she was patient with him. Just because she held him so gently. Just because she smiled.

.....................................

Smoke clouded his lungs as he tried to make his way through the corridor. He was in his room earlier trying to find ways to tell Y/n that he loves her. The past few days, his feelings have only grown whenever he would find her simply resting her head on his chest, holding his hand, or feeling her eyes on him whenever he looked away.

Dread filled his chest as he heard screams from the Hufflepuff tower. Severus ran as fast as he could, coughing as smoke entered his lungs, colliding with students running on the opposite side. The only thought in his head as his lungs burned was to save Y/n.

"Y/N!" Severus called out in desperation as the common room burned around him. He kept calling her, trying as he made his way through smoke and fire. Then he saw her trying to open the door to someone's dorm.

"Y/n, come out now."

"Severus, students are stuck in there. I can't leave them. Get out the fire is increasing." Y/n yelled as a pillar fell down, increasing the fire.

"I am not leaving without you." He didn't give her a chance to argue and helped her open the jammed door. "I'll put a spell that will clear the way."

Severus and Y/n finally got the door to open, and she helped the students out as Severus cleared the entrance for the students. As the last student got out, Severus got in to help Y/n out, and she smiled as she ran towards him. He picked her up and got her out of the tower before the fire consumed it.

"How did this happen?" She looked up at him as he carefully put her down. But he didn't respond. He just kissed her, his heart pounding against his chest with fear, relief and love. She smiled against his lips. "What was that for?"

"Sorry, I should have asked, I just-

She cut him off as she kissed him again. Severus held her tightly against him. The dread in his chest was still there. He felt like something was not right.

But Y/n sensed it before Severus could. She pushed him away, taking the attack that was meant for him. Severus could only catch a glimpse of the hooded figure.

Severus couldn't run after it as he held the lifeless body of Y/n. The one person who loved him. The one person who smiled when she saw him. He lost her in seconds, and he couldn't even tell her how much she meant to him, he couldn't tell her how much he loved to hear her laugh, he couldn't tell her he loved her.

Severus held her hand, but they were not warm anymore. He lost her. Forever.

...............................

14 years had passed. Severus lay there in the boathouse taking his last breaths. He knew everyone hated him, and he didn't mind, he never did. He could only hope now that Harry and his friends would win the war. He couldn't do much. He finally could rest.

But as Severus started to close his eyes, he heard a familiar. He instantly recognised her voice. Was it really her? He could see Harry was trying to revive him. But Severus didn't want to live anymore. Not when she stood there smiling at him like she did all those years ago.

"Y/n!" his voice croaked, and the trio looked around, trying to see what he was looking at but saw nothing. The trio saw life fade away from Severus. They mourned his loss, not knowing he was finally where he always wanted to be. With Y/n. Dancing with her to her favourite song.

A/N: I hope this was good. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

[thelov3lybookworm]

Winter Without You

Summary: Its been fifty years since he left. Being happy no longer feels right, and winter no longer feels like winter without him.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: As a gift to all my babies, your lil santa got a lil busy eatin cookies, so here is a late solstice present 😉

(Also to make up for the awful Rhysie in remember me)

(this is mostly Y/n missing and wallowing in sadness because she misses rhysand, the end is reunion)

(i also know this is kind of a break up song, but the lyrics fit 🤷🏻‍♀️)

•○🌑○•

Every year right around this time People putting up trees and lights And I been thinking that this don't feel right 'Cause I'm without you

Everywhere Y/n looked, she found people smiling, with and without reason.

And she could not blame them, for it was the season to be happy.

The coming of solstice had everyone excited, making the air and aura lighter and brighter, filling it with loving laughter and chatter.

Y/n almost hated herself for tainting it with the darkness and sadness she had been carrying around lately.

Almost.

Only because there was no place in her heart for any emotion that was not longing for her husband.

'Cause I'm without you If I could make a list, you'd be the first in it If I could make a wish, you'd show in a minute Only if it was that way But there's some things that I can't change

There had been a new tradition going around Velaris.

Parents had begun telling their children about how the mother would grant their wishes and give them all they wished for if they stayed good all year, in hopes to get them to behave, and Y/n could not help but wish it were true.

Wished that the mother really did grant wishes on solstice, if only it meant Y/n could pray for her husband to be returned to her.

Wished that all she had to do was make a list of things she wanted, the first- and only- thing she wanted being Rhysand, and when she woke up in the morning, she'd find that he had returned.

Y/n sighed, continuing to walk towards the town house after a quick run to the market for some ingredients the wraith twins had asked for.

So now This ain't winter without you No more joy, no laughter Wish that I could turn it back around When I'm falling down

Winter had been Y/n's favourite season. Because colder weather meant drinking hot chocolate prepared by her husband.

It meant snuggling up to his warm body, grinning shyly up at him.

It meant watching him laugh whole heartedly, receiving a kiss on the forehead before he went back to his work, now with her stuck to him like a new limb.

It meant being forced to stand still while he wrapped her up in warm coats and scarves whenever they went out, grumbling about the extra layers and receiving a kiss to quiet her down.

It meant extra time in the bed in the morning with her husband because they both were too lazy to get up.

It meant being stuck to him or following him around like a lost duckling because she was just that desperate for warmth and fire never satiated her needs quite like her husband did.

But that was all before he had left.

Now fifty years had passed, and still it never got easier.

Winter just was not the same without him, and it made her wonder how she had ever lived without him before they met.

So how How am I supposed to go without you? Days gone cold so won't you Say that you'll be home for christmas

She yearned for him.

To simply hear his voice again, to stare into those beautiful eyes, she was ready to bargain away her life.

She no longer cared whether she lived or died, and she would have taken her own life a long time ago if it meant she would not have to bear this pain.

Despite trying to end things multiple times, Y/n could never take that final step, because the last thing she wanted to see before she died was not the ceiling or the wall of her bedroom.

It was those violet eyes she wanted to die to.

She did not want the feeling of the cold hard ground or hanging suspended in the air to be the last thing she felt before that sweet reprieve claimed her.

It was the feeling of strong, warm and loving arms wrapped around her body.

She wished he would at least open his mind to her, so she could at the very least ask him if he was eating well. Sleeping well. Drinking enough water.

Y/n wanted to ask him if he was okay.

Wanted to tell him he was strong, that he was stronger than anyone she had ever known, and to never give up.

Alas, all she could do was want and wish.

All she had done in the past half century.

And if I could turn back the time You'd be in my arms again But there's some things that I can't change

Y/n sometimes cursed the mother for not granting her the power to turn back time, for not making any instrument to fast forward in time, just so she could at least have one glimpse of her lover, her husband, and know that he was alright.

She wished she'd been born with the gift to turn back time so she could have him in her arms again.

Hell, she even perused the books in the library of the house of wind in search of any way to turn back time, didn't matter if it was allowed or not. Even if it went against all laws of nature, if it would curse her soul forever to go against the decision of the Mother.

Mother's happiness and blessing be damned, Y/n just wanted to hold and be held by her husband again.

Even if she'd burn in hell for it.

Heavy snow pouring out my window I pray to stars and the angels No, no more lonely nights 

Y/n sat next to the huge window in the darkened room, arms wrapped around her knees as she watched the snow dance in the air before landing softly onto the already blanketed layer on the ground.

She swallowed down the knot in her throat.

Back before Rhys had left and then been unable to return, he would take Y/n out to play.

Just the way him and his brothers would have snowball fights, he would play with Y/n in the snow, as if the two of them were again kids.

Rhys knew all about Y/n's upbringing, and it had never been glitter and sparkles. So whatever chance he got, he tried to get her to experience everything she had missed out on.

This was one of those things.

Now Y/n sat alone, the sounds of her family celebrating in the background, and she prayed again.

Prayed to the stars, the moon, the night sky, the mother, the angels, the devils and forgotten mortal gods.

Prayed to anyone willing to listen, to return her husband.

She had lost all hope, but still, there was nothing else she could do but sit and pray for his health and safety and hope.

Pray to them so there were no more lonely nights she had to go through.

Hope that he would be by her side again.

So I keep wishing and hoping You'd walk through the door Hold me 'cause I know We'll fight through the cold 

She had stopped celebrating solstice or any other event that she had loved before, because what was the point in celebrating life when the one who kept you alive was probably dying off somewhere?

Y/n sucked in a ragged breath, clenching her eyes shut, feeling the fat tears roll down her cheek.

The sound of footsteps echoed outside the door, and her eyes flashed open, and she stared at the door, wishing, hoping, it was him.

Hoping he walked in through the door, gave her his signature charming smile, and then held her as they both fought to get back to their normal lives.

She would give anything for that piece of imagination to become reality.

Y/n sighed and turned back to the window as the footsteps faded away, likely a family member going to bed.

Now tell me how How am I supposed to go without you? Days gone cold so won't you Say that you'll be home for Christmas

Staring at the stars that he probably could not see, she screamed.

After everyone had gone to bed, Y/n had snuck out of the town house and made her way to the tallest peak in Velaris, and then finally, she let loose.

It had become a tradition, a habit, where every solstice night, Y/n would sneak out of home and come to this exact mountain, and scream up at the stars.

Why her? Why him?

She screamed and screamed, asking the mother, and him- not that he could hear- how she was supposed to live without him.

How she was supposed to be happy without him.

And then, after hours of screaming and cursing at the twinkling starry sky, she would collapse, staring up while laying on her back, whispering, pleading, begging, for some sign that he would return.

That he would be home, at the very least, for the next solstice.

So how How am I supposed to go without you? Days gone cold so won't you Say that you'll be home for Christmas

Exhausted, she would fall asleep, only waking once the soft rays of the sun caressed her skin gently, telling her it was time to start the miserable routine she had fallen into all over again.

She would drag herself back home, suppressing the urge to throw herself into the Sidra, and wait for the next solstice to come around so she could again scream and cry at the injustice of it all.

•○🌑○•

The wards felt different today, Y/n could feel it.

They felt stronger, more lively, though they seemed ready to fall.

What was going on, Y/n could not tell, but as she made her way through the winding passages of the moonstone palace, her heart beat louder and faster, and a sense of longing gripped Y/n's body in a vise-like grip.

Her strolling footsteps hurried, and Y/n was running by the time she reached one of the sitting rooms, the door ajar.

Panting, chest heaving, she took that final step, and her world came to a stop.

She smelled him before she heard him, heard him before she saw him, and saw him before she understood fully who she was staring at.

Rhysand.

Her husband.

The male she was in love with, one she had not seen in fifty long years, one she yearned to get a glimpse of each second of every day spent she spent without.

He stood there, his skin pale as he hugged his cousin, crying, whispering, over and over again, where is she?

Where is my wife?

It took only a moment for the siblings to notice the new presence in the room, but to Y/n, it was another fifty years.

Though this wait she did not mind, for what did a moment compare to eighteen thousand, two hundred sixty-two days?

She simply stared at the embracing siblings, a traitorous tear slipping out of her eye the longer she stared.

And then finally, he lifted his eyes, and glossy violet met hers, widening, more tears slipping out as he pulled away from his cousin, his lips parting on an exhale.

Mor turned to look at Y/n, tear tracks staining her own cheeks, and grinned.

Y/n paid no attention to her though, her eyes tracking her husband's body, marking the amount of weight and muscle he had lost, the loss of colour of his skin, the dimmed shine in his once sparkling eyes.

Y/n swallowed. "Mor? Do you mind giving us a moment?"

"But-"

"Please, Mor." Y/n's voice broke, and she cursed herself for it.

Mor nodded, hastily making her way out of the room.

Y/n reached behind herself to grasp the door, shutting it softly, not taking her eyes off of him once.

She had let him out of her sight once, and as punishment, had been able to see him for fifty years. She would not look away again, not while this felt like a cruel dream the mother was showing Y/n, only to take it all away for her to realise she was dreaming.

"Rhysand." She whispered, taking a step foward.

"Y/n." His voice broke on the name, and he swallowed, tears beginning anew.

When she was close enough, she reached her hand out, running her fingers along his cheek, afraid anything other than the ghost of a touch would make him vanish.

His eyes were pleading, filled with silver, and Y/n wanted to do nothing more than throw herself onto him and never let go.

But she couldn't do that.

She first wanted t make sure this was not some mirage, and that he really was here, unhurt and safe, back with her where he belonged.

Slowly, she cupped his cheek, trying her best to stop any tears from flowing.

When she was sure that this was a miracle, not a mirage, Y/n stepped closer, searching his eyes, his face.

She gently grasped his chin, turning his head this way and that, running her hands along his shoulder and arms, searching for something she hoped was not there.

He laughed, the sound a balm to her frayed nerves.

"You've lost weight." Y/n phrased it like a question.

He smiled softly, sadly. "So have you."

She shook her head. "Are you okay?"

His smile widened, and he leaned forward slightly. "Will get there."

Y/n nodded, and then finally, she extended her arms, snaking them gently around his neck, pressing every inch of her body against his, and buried her face in his neck.

His arms wrapped around her back and waist, and instantly, tension bled from both their bodies. She tightened her hold on him, and he returned it tenfold.

Y/n didn't care he was crushing her, all she knew was she was home, finally.

He was back home.

"I missed you, husband."

"I missed you more, my love."

She pulled back her face to search his nearly empty eyes, and gave him the first smile she had smile in the past fifty years. He rested her forehead against hers, his lips tilted up in contentment.

"Welcome home, my love. Welcome home Rhysand."

•○🌑○•

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