#I feel like I need to start using it more often too

[writersdrug]

Price getting reader a step stool cause she keeps asking Bartender!Ghost to reach stuff for her. Simon obviously brakes it when no ones looking. 👀🤭

LOL

"Is this your way of insulting me?" You ask, holding the colorful, children's stepstool in your hands. You're grimacing at it, a look that has Price chuckling as he folds up the bag from the store.

"I figured you could use it - now ya don't have to wait for Simon to grab anything for you." He says, patting you on the shoulder.

"I don't mind the wait..." You mumble under your breath. The stool feels as decorative as a clowns nose as you tuck it under your arm and head towards the stairs. "I'm keeping it upstairs, I don't need customers laughing at me when I pull this out. Might take it home and spray paint it."

"Suit yourself." Price calls as you bound up the stairs. He heads over to the bar, where Simon is currently polishing the glasses you convinced him to order for the Halloween drink.

"Got a problem with me helpin' 'er?" Simon says, thick fingers rubbing the glass with a rag. He doesn't mean to sound defensive... but he can't help the bite in his tone.

Price smirks, picking up on the jealousy laced into Simon's words. "Thought you might like it. Makes your life easier, and 'ers." He pops open the register and starts filtering through the bills, replacing the larger value ones with smaller ones.

"You don't think I'm capable of runnin' a bar and helping you waitress at the same time?"

"No, but I think you'd be better off if you didn't have to run so much. She's brought in so much business as it is, your workload's gotten heavier."

Simon huffs. "Ya just want to separate us, hm? Want 'er all to yourself." He jokes, grabbing another glass and buffing it.

Price shrugs. "And if I am?" He says, giving him a side glance.

Ghost slows his ministrations, turning his head to his captain. They both stare at each other for a moment, Simon with his slightly angry, slightly questioning glare, and Price with his unwavering eyes. Simon wants to tell him to back down, that you're his - but he can't say that, because you aren't his. He wants you to be. But he doesn't know how to make it happen without letting his walls down.

Price chuckles, turning back to the register to continue swapping bills. "Y'know, if you want to say somethin' you'd best say it." He comments, snapping the drawer shut. "Missed opportunities often come from miscommunication."

He leaves Simon at the bar, heading towards the stairs with his money folder. You jog down the steps and nearly crash into him - he quickly grabs your shoulders and spins you out of the way before you can collide with him. You throw a "sorry!" over your shoulder as you carry an armful of various fruits, leaving Price chuckling as he ascends the stairs to the office.

"The oranges up there aren't looking too great." You chirp, dumping the fruit onto his workspace. A few lemons and limes roll onto the floor, and you bend down to chase them. Simon watches you, a bit miffed at how unaware you were of the situation. What do you think of Price? Do you like him? Would you flirt with him as much as you do with Simon?

You return with the escaped fruit. "I can run to Sevvy's store and grab some for tonight, if you want? The ones upstairs are looking a bit pruney."

"Are you actually gonna use that thing?"

"Huh?" You look at him with confusion written on your face. "What thing?"

"The stool." He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. "'S a bit demeaning, don'tcha think?"

You paused, watching him move the fruit to the side and grab a plastic cutting board. "I mean... he bought it, and I wouldn't have to bug you so much. If I spray paint it black or something, it won't look that ridiculous."

He nods. "Hm."

"I used it to grab the fruit."

"That's interestin'." He mumbles, slicing through an orange. You were right, they have seen better days.

He turns to pop open the register and hands you some bills. "Go get a few oranges, no more than ten. Order should be comin' in tomorrow."

You smile and take the money, stuffing it in your back pocket. With a few hours remaining before the restaurant opens, you go through the kitchen, grab your jacket, and head out the back.

Simon's back to chopping fruit and dumping it into a small bin, bitterly thinking over what Price had said. It's a stool. Price got it to help you and himself. It was a thoughtful purchase. But it's not just that. However unserious this is to Price, he's trying to rile Simon up. He's treating you like the last slice of cake in the tin - Price would like to have it, but he knows Simon's groveling for it. He's forcing Simon to ask for what he wants, and the bartender doesn't like that one bit. Normally, it wouldn't be something that irks him so easily - but this is you we're talking about. Not just anything. You. He wants to grab Price by the collar and throw him into next week with how he's trying to wedge between you and Simon - but he doesn't like having a weakness. He'll keep his cool for now. He'll make a move... eventually.

For now, the only aggressive side he'll present is passive.

Price leaves late that night, somewhere between two and three in the morning. He's beat, spending most of the night between helping you run food and drinks, and fifo-ing the pantry and overflow rooms. He's planning for a day off - of course, after he goes to the bank and comes back here to pay everyone. He's jealous of Simon, who's already upstairs for the night - he wishes he only had a short trip to the third floor before he could crash into his bed. Rather, he has to trek a hefty number of blocks home through the dark streets. He's more worried about going to bed at a decent hour than walking around at night with a bag full of money - people usually steer clear of him when they see his stature.

He locks the back door behind him, puffing out a foggy breath into the frigid air. It's only getting colder - he'll have to break out his cloves and scarf soon. The beanie won't be enough. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other holding a small bag of trash from the office. He mentally ticks off what he needs to do this week as he grabs the garbage bins, dragging them behind him and towards the street for the trucks to empty in the morning. He pushes them against the store front, taking the lid off and dropping the light trash bag inside.

The loud thunk makes him do a double take. Did he throw away something important? He lifts the bag once again, and a disappointed expression falls upon his face. The colorful kiddie stool he bought for you is there, pieces snapped apart and shoved deep into the bin. Simon didn't even try to hide it underneath the other bags. It's almost like he left it there for Price to catch.

He sighs, dropping the bag and placing the lid back. He trudged down the sidewalk towards his home - he's not too upset by it. He had a feeling Ghost was sinking his teeth into you, and frankly, it's gotten to the point where Price is afraid of what the man might do if someone else tries to take you away. But damn, if his ex-lieutenant's going to make a move, he'd better make a fucking move. For your sake, if not his own.

He pulls his phone from his pocked and shoots Simon a quick, blunt message.

You're paying me back for that.

[devnmon]

bloodletting // a.a.

Summary: You're afraid of being judged when your time of the month comes, and Astarion being Astarion... is enthused.

Warnings: period oral, mentions of blood and menstruation!

wc: 2.2k

Astarion was always confident he could read you like a book. Though one certainly long day of adventuring passes by without you both speaking, and he's unsure why you're downright avoiding him.

He was confused, yet intrigued, by your attitude. Standoffish, pushing him away, generally the way you never acted, especially towards him.

That is, until he caught a whiff of you. It wasn't a different odor than he'd had the privilege of tasting before, just more potent.

More… fragrant.

Pheromones of yours wafting in the air, coming from one known source: you.

The vampire's thoughts wracked him as to what could've been throwing you off this much that you'd push him away this much. You'd consistently talk his ear off about anything crossing your mind.

And Astarion, the man he is, would always listen intently.

For you to spend your day glued to the girls' side all day raised some questions with him. Of course he understood if you were in need of space, but for you to not let him know at the very least-- well, he was a little puzzled.

But in fact it was when he found you crouched over, groaning in pain while washing your hands off in a stream. It was then he realized what you were cleaning your hands of.

"Well, well. Now I know why you've been avoiding me. Are you going to act like I can't smell you, darling? A vampire's senses are much stronger than a human's, don't you know?"

Freezing in your place, you turn to meet the smug face of one certain companion of yours catching you literally red-handed. A flush of heat rushed across your skin like wildfire, caught in his tantalizing gaze.

"You know, I don't mind it, if you know what I mean. That is why you've been avoiding me all day, correct?" His arms crossing over his broad chest said enough about how astonished he was with you hiding this from him. He didn't take kindly to being avoided, especially not if it was something so personal as this.

You stood a few feet away while attempting to collect yourself, clutching a used pair of undergarments in one hand.

"Astarion–" you began, failing to convince the dashing man before you of anything but what he already knew. Nothing that bad would have you tragically trying to hide it from him, of all people.

"No, no… don't even try to explain yourself." The smirk on his face was telling enough, low voice of his ringing out again, "You thought I'd, what, be drawn away from you? It's blood, darling."

"Of course not. I just… didn't know how you'd react. I've got terrible pains most days on our travels and I've had to beg our healer to cure me every day since it started. It's been so heavy that I've had to refresh myself way too often... which is exactly what I was doing when you found me here." You wrung your hands between one another, before the vampire stepped closer and took them into his.

"Love, you should know I would never judge you. If you needed a little relief, all you had to do was ask. It's what I'm here for, to ease your struggles. Make things alright when they're not." One of his hands moved a lock of hair out of your face and behind your ear before cupping your cheek with his palm.

Impulsively, you leaned into his touch, one you always chased every time Astarion lay his hands of velvet on you.

"Just knowing how you feel about it is a huge relief. I didn't know what to do or what to say to you... hence me being by the girls' side all day long. Just figured talking out how to tell you about it with them would help because I was nervous. And I wouldn't ask you to do something like that for me."

Astarion picked up on your cheeks reddening whilst you mentioned the idea of an act so intimate. He knew you weren't one for coming to him first about things to try in the bedroom; you'd rather let him take the lead and find out what you liked through that.

But this was about you being in pain, and if getting between your legs to quite literally suck you dry eased some of it, he'd gladly be first in line for that experience.

"What if I... offered? Does that change anything about the way you feel? Maybe it would give you some respite from those pains you've been complaining about. You know I can do things you can't get from a cleric, darling."

Your eyes widened a bit at his proposition, a strong heat beginning to stir inside you.

"A-Are you sure? I mean I know you're a vampire and all, but do you really mean that?"

"I'd ravish you every minute you'd allow me. This isn't any different. I crave you, in all ways. Your pleasure is mine, and I want to show you just how much I mean it." His thumb swiped across your cheek softly, to which you looked at him and nodded, watching his lips curl into a smirk.

Within the grasp of his other hand, he finds the soiled underwear still soaked with red. Luckily, his nimble rogue hands had taken the cloth before you could notice it was gone.

His lips pressed to your neck, ghosting kisses over your skin while listening in on your blood pumping. Chill kisses of his were much needed after rushing to clean yourself up.

The ruby eyes of your lover darkened with an inking of mischief, before he was guiding your body to lay down for him, placing a rag under your hips.

Your garments had been tossed off to the side, with Astarion's hands parting your thighs. He took a deep breath, the scent of you intoxicating him to another level. You could've sworn his eyes sparkled with desire before his head moved between your thighs.

Astarion dragged his tongue through your folds long and slow, parting easily with the amount of blood your body had already shed.

"Mmm… this is an experience I'll think about forever. The sheer act of you giving your body to me in such a way... Like a tying of souls, for infinity. Makes me love you even more. If that's possible." He spoke again, that accent of his making a hot blush cover your cheeks.

"No, please don't stop. Oh, gods- Astarion..." you breathed, running a hand through his curls and gripping tightly.

The vampire's tongue slid over your entrance this time, up through your folds and right over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out gasps of his name followed by moans when he begun to circle it with just the tip of his tongue. Astarion drank up every part of you more easily than he thought he could. He was infatuated.

Diving in deeper, he hooked your thighs around his shoulders, relishing in the taste of you further. You were trembling beneath him already, but he was able to wrap his biceps around them and hold you down.

Seeing him smitten with the taste of you while making his own sounds of pleasure from it sent you further into a haze of pleasure.

Astarion considered this the closest you two had ever been, like a binding of souls that lasted for eternity. He would gladly travel Avernus and back for you if given the chance.

His tongue traveled through your folds once again, stopping right over your entrance before sticking his tongue inside to lap up more of you.

"Oh, gods. You're good at that…" you whimpered, hips stuttering against the pale elf's grip. You're much more sensitive to his touches than when not on your cycle, the way your hips swayed, and your breasts swelled, it felt silly to think you didn't come to him sooner.

Once he came up for air, you caught the glimmer in his eye that noted his enjoyment of it all. Painted his face with you, a testament to how devoted he was entirely to you.

"So perfect, my love… I doubt anyone else's gotten the chance to have you like this. I'm the luckiest in all of Faerûn."

Astarion placed his hand on your lower torso, right above where your pubic line starts, and presses his palm firmly onto your abdomen.

Somehow your body melded to his in an instant, responding to his touch with another gush between your thighs.

It heightened your pleasure and though you knew he was drinking your blood, there were no words to describe how erotic it was seeing yours all over his mouth.

He controls his tongue's movements through you like it's breathing, flitting over your clit with fervent need to taste.

"Fuck... Astarion, please- ah! It hurts..." you whimpered, a cramp running through your body.

"Another one of your pains?" The pale elf inquired, the sudden loss of his mouth debilitating after all his stimulation. You nodded to him, attempting to hold back your sounds of discomfort.

"Let's see what we can do about that..." His mouth thankfully returned to your aching heat, the red of your blood messily lathered upon his face. Both his hands slide around your waist, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your lower abdomen.

Although Astarion's skin was naturally cool to the touch, the light blue glow from his palms was even cooler in the moment. Instantly your cramps disintegrated, thanks to the healing scrolls he kept on hand.

"Your touch is life changing, my star... What would I ever do without you?" you sigh, throwing your head back in relief when he lowered his head back down.

He chuckles before circling his tongue around your clit, causing you to tug on his hair again while your hips stutter underneath him. Astarion breathes you in with another inhale, the crimson taste on his tongue more decadent than he's ever had.

To hold you in his arms and find himself getting to worship at the temple that is your body, he was certain this was where he was meant to be.

With the way you sighed with content, he was sure the little healing spell he'd cast was in effect.

A blaring heat rushes through you when he prods a finger into your opening, watching as a bit of blood seeps onto his palm. Sensual moans of his vibrated against you, sucking lightly on your clit again in sync with the movements of his fingers.

It’s as though you feel the knot between you two loop together, freeing you in time and space where you lay from any contradictory feelings you had. About to squeeze your eyes shut, you hear Astarion’s voice in your mind.

Doing so well for me, gods, you taste exquisite…

You’re blushing furiously at the echoes of his silken voice, laid within his body mind and soul. Part of you still holds the shame that comes from within, combatting the thoughts that pull your mind away from him.

I admire you to the rings of saturn and back, no one else has such a hold over me like you.

Every move he makes is soft and doting, as if you would break lest he move too quick. Astarion’s words chip away at the highest wall of masked vulnerability you’d built up. It’s brief, the sheer embarrassment you’re utterly soaked in, before his words ring out in your head a final time.

I’m here. Let go, darling. You’re mine, evermore

His fingers continue to plunge inside you, thinking only of your pleasure as your body explodes for him. Astarion continues to work you through euphoria, as your back arches under him.

An ever so slight ache of need washes over your entire body, goosebumps rising on the soft skin.

“There you go, so good for me.” Astarion’s voice breaks the silence, the only other sound your panting breath and stream of water nearby.

Astarion knows he’s just orchestrated the most wonderful oblivion of sensuality and just cannot help himself.

Once more he runs his tongue through you, lingering taste of you on his tongue. He lifts himself from you, palms running softly over the skin of your thighs before helping you sit up.

His curls were nothing but a mess from your tugging, and even though you were the one given pleasure, he held the same blissed out glowy look you did.

“Thank you, Astarion. That was… like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I’m truly the lucky one. How can I ever repay you…”

Before he even has a chance to clean himself up, you’re pulling him in for a kiss and tasting yourself on his lips. What you once considered cowardly and disgusting was now filled with love and devotion. Nothing would compare.

“Nevermind repaying me. You’ve all but let me suck you bloodless like so many nights before. I’ll be glowing by the time we wake tomorrow. Now, let’s get some rest. Shall we?”

Astarion begins to stand, holding out a hand for you to grasp as he pulls you to your feet.

“Is there anyone more perfect than you, Astarion?” you asked, sighing with satisfaction.

“I highly doubt it.” he snarked.

“Hm. Good, because you’re the keeper of my heart. All my love belongs to you.”

His hand brought one of yours to his lips, kissing it softly before interlocking his fingers with yours with a smile as the both of you walked back to camp.

[tarotwithavi]

A life lesson I want to share with you

When I was a child, I often felt neglected. Both my mother and father were busy with their jobs and lives, and it felt like they didn’t have time for me. I always wanted their attention and love, but I didn’t know how to ask for it. The only time I felt appreciated by them was when I did something they could be proud of. If I won a competition, got the highest grades, or acted like the perfect "golden child," then they noticed me.

Because of this, I started to believe that in order to be loved by my parents, I had to be the best at everything. I pushed myself harder and harder, trying to meet these high standards. I thought that if I was the smartest, the most successful, and the perfect child, my parents would love me more. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I had created these expectations for myself. My parents never demanded I be the best, and they never told me I had to be perfect. But I convinced myself that I needed to.

Over time, I started to feel more and more pressure. I was so focused on being the best that I never stopped to think about how it was affecting me. I was always worried about failing or not being good enough. The need for recognition and appreciation from my parents was slowly eating me up inside. I didn’t feel free to just be myself; instead, I felt like I always had to perform.

But one day, I had a realization. I began to understand that my parents had always loved me just as I was. They didn’t love me more when I got good grades or won awards. Their love for me was unconditional. I realized that my parents weren’t working hard because they didn’t care about me; they were working hard because they loved me. They were trying to give me the life they never had. They wanted to provide me with opportunities and luxuries that they had never experienced growing up.

This realization changed the way I saw things. I finally understood that I didn’t need to be perfect to earn their love. My parents were doing everything for me because they loved me from the start, not because of my achievements. It wasn’t about what I could do; it was about who I was, their child.

Looking back, I learned a big lesson from this experience. Sometimes, we put too much pressure on ourselves, thinking we need to be perfect or the best to be loved or appreciated. But the truth is, real love doesn’t come from our successes or achievements. It comes from who we are. And most importantly, the people who truly love us ,like our parents ,will always love us for who we are, not for what we do.

Now, I try to remind myself that I don’t need to prove my worth to anyone. I don’t need to keep pushing myself to the point of stress and exhaustion. I can just be me, and that is enough. My parents love me, not for my grades or awards, but because I am their child. And that is a lesson I hope everyone can learn: You are worthy of love just as you are. You don’t have to earn it; you just have to accept it.

[izvmimi]

cw: izuku has a bit of an embarrassing secret. minors dni. smut.

You feel guilty laughing a bit too loudly, wondering between booth confessions on the reality tv show you’re watching if the crunch of your chips or your laughter is disturbing your boyfriend’s concentration, but Izuku insists that staying connected, your legs dangling over his knee on the couch as you lay and he sits up hunched over a bright laptop screen is necessary. Something, something about body doubling helping him concentrate, particularly when it’s you.

To be fair, he’s sighing so often that perhaps he’s really the one disturbing you, but you drop your bag of snacks on the coffee table then reach over to rub his knee with your clean hand. 

“How far did you get?” you ask.

He grimaces.

“I’m stuck with this particular paragraph,” he starts, and you’re already reaching for the remote to turn off the TV and help with his work document, but he grips your thigh gently and shakes to reassure you.

“Let me just think through it some more, I’ll ask you for help in a bit,” Izuku insists, smiling at you. His smile is wide and genuine when he looks at you, but once he turns back to the computer, the frustration is back, eyebrows furrowed as he starts to bite on his thumbnail. You’re less than enthused, but you decide to let him hear himself think, lowering the volume on your television just slightly as you go back to your show. 

A few more moments pass as he types, then pauses. Finally, he lets out a groan, and rubs his face and you pause your show but before you can ask him any questions he’s gotten up, telling you he needs a quick break. It’s sudden so you don’t go and follow him assuming he’ll be back.

You assumed he meant the bathroom when you turned your show back on and raised the volume slightly, and if you hadn’t made that assumption you’d probably have noticed that the wrong door closed, the one to the bedroom on the left and not the bathroom on the right. 

Five minutes pass, then ten, then fifteen, and suddenly concern sets in. Insane as you might be, you’re familiar enough with Izuku’s bathroom habits to know that fifteen minutes is a little too long, and he’s either still muttering up a storm on the toilet bowl or constipated.

You make your way down the corridor to see that the bathroom is empty but the bedroom is closed shut. There’s a noise you can’t yet identify coming through the other side as you peek your way in, but just as you notice the bright white light coming from his phone, you hear him let out a sudden, strangled moan and through his head back, and quickly you flip on the light before he gasps, and scrambles up to a sitting position, dick still hard and poorly covered by his crossed legs. The hand he uses to cover himself is dripping and you stand there, eyes completely wide as you take in the scene before you.

“... Um?” you start, and he blushes a deep red, strawberry like with the dotted freckles on his unscarred cheek.

“Listen, I can explain!”

You blink, but walk over to him, and tilt your head as you climb onto the bed next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and look at the mess now on your bed sheets.

“Go ahead, I’m listening.”

You’re in no way upset, simply… curious.

Izuku swallows thickly, then laughs. 

“It helps me concentrate.”

You raise your eyebrow, but it’s not an unreasonable thing he’s suggesting. Looking over at his phone placed aside him, you realize he’s looking at one of your pictures, not even one of the sexier ones you’ve taken to spice up one of his days on patrol, but a candid of you at the cafe down the street for brunch last week.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“So masturbating to a picture of me having pancakes helps you concentrate,” you repeat slowly, and he reddens even deeper. “To be honest, it’s so on the nose, I’m going to have to check your browser history because no way you love me this much,” you say laughing a bit louder.

“Stop making fun of me,” he whines, but you only laugh harder, then lean into him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“If you wanted to have sex, I would have stopped my show, by the way,” you insist. One of your hands finds its way up his shirt, ignoring just the few drops of sticky semen that have made their way onto his lower belly and trailing up. His flush is different now, extending further down his body, and he looks at you for a moment, contemplating before pressing his hand over yours.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked comfortable.”

You snort.

“When would I pass on a good fuck?”

He pulls his lower lip behind his teeth gently as you move back down his chest, gliding all the way to the base of his cock. He shudders and closes his eyes.

“I don’t want to use you for that purpose.. It just feels disingenuous.”

Your head lowers and the kitten lick you offer on his still sticky tip practically makes his cock jump. You giggle, then look back up at him.

“You’re allowed to use me however you want,” you remind him. Your fingers close around him more, sliding up and down the shaft once before letting your tongue run up your palm. 

Clearly you’re messing with him at this point. 

“___,” he whispers your name, and you can tell he’s cooked. You bat your eyelashes gently.

“It was meant to be quick…” he adds, but he’s losing ground more and more every second, and you’re about to bob your head down again. “I… I want to make sure that when we’re having sex, I can take my time with you instead of worrying about this damn dead- oh.”

You’ve taken him down to the base, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone, and his hand finds its way to cradle the back of your head. Sucking up and down gently and slow, you let your tongue twirl around the head again before you pull back, and grin at him.

“We can still be quick...” you offer. 

From the look on his face, any circulation to his brain that could be used for writing is now down to that thick, strong cock just inches from your face. His mouth practically waters as he looks at you, in a stupor.

You barely see him move before he’s on top of you, and you gasp before you laugh.

“You’re right, this is a far better option.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Let’s see how fast you can make me cum and clear both of our heads.”

[juniperdugong]

Super Weird - Vernon

WC: 867 || Genre: Fluff || CW: Suggested bullying (?)/ reader being an outcast || Vernon x GN!reader (established relationship)

A/N: For all my weirdos because I'm a weirdo and Vernon is too, ain't no denying it, just a buncha freaks in masks huh?

"Do you think I'm weird?"

Vernon looks at you, eyes squinting in confusion and his expression shifting into a scowl seeing that you're completely serious, "Whaf dar haw ah yo tarking abo-?" (What the hell are you talking about?)

His mouth is filled with the last and biggest spoonful of food that you knew you couldn't finish so - as the routine goes - you gave it to Vernon. He furiously chews at a pace that you know probably isn't safe and with a large and rather painful-looking gulp his mouth is free of obstructions. "What did you just say?" his tone sounds more lightly confused but his face gives quiet anger more than anything.

"Hansol you heard me. Do you think I'm weird?" You speak very monotonously, a trait the two of you shared.

"Of course you're weird." He says it like it's a matter of fact. His expression completely drops into the deadpan face you're used to. He ignores how perplexed you look as he brings the dishes to the sink.

"And you're okay with that?" You ask out of genuine curiosity, you know that most people would outcast someone they think is weird - it's something you've often experienced at school and work. So if he thought you were strange then why would he stick around?

"Why wouldn't I be?" He looks up at you almost accusatorily as he scrubbed the dishes and put them to dry.

"I mean- It doesn't bother you at all that I'm abnormal or weird? I know people talk about how I sound or that I'm too... strange and stuff. It isn't lost on me but if you also know that then why do you stick around?" You let your words spill just wanting to get down to the root of the issue while escaping the heavy-handed approach of blurting out "Why would you want to be with someone you find weird?".

"Nope." That was his reply. His. Entire. Answer. Just "Nope." and then he picked his phone up from the table and went to sit in the living room. You know he saw your face as it contorted into even more confusion and bafflement but he ignored it!

You did the only sensible thing, of course, and immediately trailed him and sat right next to him, snatching his phone out of his hand as he opened up a game. You had his attention and yet he seemed confused? As if he wasn't the one who completely dodged your questioning before.

"Yes?"

"You have nothing else to say?"

He gave himself a moment to think, you thought for a millisecond that perhaps he's finally found a more appropriate answer, "Nope."

"Huh?" You shake your head completely bewildered. "You know I'm weird and you still want to be with me, why is that?"

"It's probably because I love you or something weird like that-" He turns to you as a blush sets in. Chuckling he gives a small pinch to your cheeks, fighting the cuteness aggression he feels, "Don't think about it too much though, that's a fact you should already know about by now... I would hope you know about by now..." He tilts his head as he says that last part as if questioning if you really did know about his love after all this time.

Vernon's love for you was something you never questioned, even though he wasn't exactly the best at physically expressing it he always made sure to assure you through words, actions, or gifts. It was a bit odd honestly, like he had some sort of psychic powers to know what your needs are. Maybe...

"I think you're the weird one actually-" you start thinking out loud.

"Yeah? Maybe."

"And you accept that, Han?"

"Mhm." His answers are blunt and to the point, you have to wonder if he's just saying this to satisfy your curiosity- "I'm not just saying that by the way. I know that I'm weird, babe."

"You a wizard?" He squints as he looks at you, waiting for clarification, "You read my mind like one."

"Nope, I'm just a really good boyfriend I think." He relaxes into the couch, pulling you onto his lap and retrieving his phone from your grasp.

"So we're both just weird and we both just have to accept that?"

"Looks like it, babe."

"huh..." You ponder on it for a moment as your eyes look around your shared apartment. Shelves filled with knick-knacks of yours, pillows in the shape of cartoon characters, anime on the TV currently... "Yeah, okay." You retract your worry as quick as it came, it was an absurd thought that you let yourself get caught up in any way. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulder as you watch him play his game.

"Hansol?"

"What?"

"Why am I seeing a half-naked man on your screen right now?"

"That is my current boyfriend, Sylus."

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, he meets your nebulous expression with a peck on the lips. "You are weird, Han."

"I know baby. It's honestly weirder that you heard me say all of that and that's your only reaction."

A/N: Hahaha totally not something to sate you guys as I continue working on the Cheol angst fic... (Please help me I'm 3000 words in and still haven't gotten through half of my bullet points) Tbf I did say it was gonna be long though... First Vernon fic though! Plus comeback around the corner, yeah let's all talk about all the whiplash that's been going on in Caratland rn...

Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda @porridgesblog

[miaoua3]

ovulating thinking abt jihoon rn can u make his version of the sfw and nsfw headcanons pretty pleaseee😓😓i love your writing i feel like it matches them so well

honestly you’re so real for thinking about jihoonie while ovulating, he gets me going like that too😭 thank you for saying that, i always try to think so hard about how the boys would be/act, trying to stay as close as possible to the true portrayal of them❤️

Jihoon Boyfriend Headcanons:

•(sfw! hcs):

i already said this but i will repeat it for the people in the back: JIHOON IS A ROMANTIC THROUGH AND THROUGH!!! just because he isn’t overly touchy and calling you “honey boo boo bear” like mingyu and dokyeom do doesn’t make him any less of a romantic, he simply shows his love through actions- writing songs for and inspired by you, always ordering your favourite food when he knows you haven’t had the time to eat, buying all the small and somewhat stupid things that he knows will make you happy etc. when jihoon loves he loves strongly and also gently at the same time

he definitely let you reorganise and decorate his studio because he got bored with all the boring decor he had (plus you spend almost just as much time in there as the rest of the boys and almost every evening with him so he wants you to be as comfortable as possible, and if it means buying a lilac couch that is fluffy and totally not his style, then so be it)

believe it or not, behind the closed doors jihoon is actually very cuddly, he loves to snuggle into you, his face hidden in your neck as you sit on his lap while he’s sitting in his chair in front of a computer, one hand gently running up and down your back while he’s clicking around the screen-it always makes him feel calmer, being in your arms, feeling your breath brush against his neck and tips of his hair. plus if you fall asleep like that? jihoon will literally have to physically grab his chest where his heart is from how cute he finds it

although he’s a cuddly bear behind the doors, in front of them he’s still a grumpy little cat that he always portrays himself as, a little tsundere if you will. but he still wants you to know that he loves you without saying it out loud in front of everyone, so he will proceed to do such silly things like thrusting a cup of coffee he bought for you, his face turned away from you (the tips of his ears red however), mumbling out something along the lines of “for you”, he’s just so dkanosbaoabs i want to squish his cheeks and kiss his little chubby cheeks AAAAAH I LOVE HIM SM

loves hiding your voice in his songs, just a little giggle he recorded secretly, or you saying something cute and/or inspiring, he just loves making you part of his art, especially because he considers you his muse. and this way you get to live forever, in a form of his song and i just think that’s so romantic, like being loved by an artist is such a beautiful thing to experience like hoonie pls let me be your muse😭

you actually didn’t know this until you started spending more time in his studio but he gets really bad headaches due to staring at the screen the whole day, paired up with barely eating and not drinking enough water you get a jihoon that can barely hold his eyes opened due to how bad the headaches are. that’s why you started carrying ibuprofen everywhere with you in case he might need it. but what helps him even more than any medication is when you make him lay down on his couch with his head in your lap and when you gently massage his head while talking to him softly about something. he relaxes so fast any time you do this that it has become sort of a daily routine for you to do this, this makes him feel so loved that he often has to close his eyes in order to hide the tears that are brimming his eyes (you would never tell him this but you still see the tears every time he does this)

going on tour is always the hardest time for jihoon because he has to be away from you for so long. he just gets so used to having you around him every day, to your wide smiles while you call him “hoonie” or “jagi” that he feels like he loses a part of his identity when the fans start referring to him only as “uji” :( and don’t get him wrong, his fans are not the one in fault here, neither are you, it’s just a tricky situation that doesn’t really have a good solution other than bringing you with him while he’s touring for months (which you can’t afford to do) or sucking it up for a few months for a bit until he gets to come home to you :(

•(nsfw! hcs):

“oH hE wOuLd fUcK yOu iN HiS sTuDiO” yeah yeah we all established that BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU COCKWARMING HIM IN HIS STUDIO??? just imagine- he’s sitting on his chair, pants pulled down just enough for his thick cock to be freed, your wet pussy clenching around it in need, your soft whines and moans and begging hitting his ears while he tries so hard to focus on the task in front of him so he can finish faster and fuck you into oblivion right there on his desk i- i fear i need him

another member of the “pussy drunk” club. he uses eating you out as a form of winding down after a hard day, he sometimes won’t even greet you after coming home, he will just pull you to the couch, yank your pants down before letting himself fall onto the couch, picking you up and basically drag you up until your core is hovering above his juicy and hungry mouth. he won’t stop until you’re shaking and crying, begging him to either stop or to finally fuck you until you lose all of your senses

what he even likes more than you cockwarming him in his studio is when you suck him off under the table. just the sheer effort that he has to put into concentrating on his task while your tongue is swirling around his head, the rest of his dick being pumped with one of your hands while the other massages his balls, halfway through he just gives up on trying to focus on the computer in front of him and just fists your hair in his hands, fucking your mouth with his eyes closed and mouth opened, moans spilling out of his mouth without his permission

has a thing for strength, like just seeing the difference in your strength, how easily he can manhandle you into positions he wants you in and being able to pick you up with ease before throwing you on the bed with even less effort- it just makes his brain cloud with desire and need that he goes crazy whenever he hears you either gasp or moan when he picks you up or harshly pushes you against the wall

speaking of, he loves to fuck you against any wall there is, like imagine- you two come home from his studio after you spent hours just sitting on his pretty and girthy cock, you don’t even have the chance to close the door fully before he’s picking you up and fucking you right there against the wall by the entrance door, going at the speed of light, your moans and slapping of skin against skin the only sound being heard in the mostly dark apartment i- i need lee jihoon so badly istg

has a thing for bathtub sex- there’s nothing better than when they get some free time and he gets to relax and spend more time with you, doing all sorts of things together, like taking a bath together, two glasses of champagne prepared for you two to enjoy while doing so. the fact that the glasses end up getting spilled in the bathtub while you ride him, water splashing everywhere due to excessive movements he makes you make with his tight hold on your hips is an entirely different matter

surprise surprise- he has a breeding kink. you can’t tell me he doesn’t, like just the sight of you beneath him, begging with tears in your eyes to cum inside of you, to make you full of his cum and breed you is enough to push him over the edge, spilling his load inside of you to the point it starts leaking even while his dick is still inside of you. he won’t stop until he’s sure that he has succeeded in breeding you, and until he sees that dazed and satisfied look in your eyes, his grip tightening on your hips as he pushes himself inside of you to the hilt, refusing to pull out for the nectar several minutes- I NEED HIM SOOOO BADDD PLS JIHOON I PROMISE I CAN TREAT YOU SO WELL DJDJAKXJAIA PLS GOD SEND THIS MAN MY WAY

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Pretty Saviour

Dick Grayson x Metalhead!Reader

wc: 1.2 K summary: You save Nightwing and Batman one night in a close call, being stuck with Dick forever warnings: fluff, none, no y/n used a/n: (divider), i know that pic is probably overused but i'm still weak for it.

Ever since you‘ve spontaniously patrolled a new route in your neighbourhood and miraciously saved Nightwing and Batman, that blue bird has been attached by your hip. It‘s not like he annoys you, but sometimes you start to prefer the black bat rather than the overly happy-sunshine vigilante.

Like now, talking your ears off about his favourite band he used to listen to in his angsty teenage years. You don‘t interrupt him, not wanting to make him feel bad about getting some small facts wrong since that band is the most mainstream rock band you have ever seen and heard.

To avoid his constant yapping, you‘ve tried to change your patrol route completely, but it‘s no use. He always finds you and claims it‘s just ‚a lucky coincidence‘.

In reality, Dick has been completely smitten over you from the moment he saw you effortlessly take down several men in front of him who were about to kick his ass. You saved Batman‘s ass too, but he refuses to acknowledge either that fact or you.

Eventually, he continues to talk on and on about that super-cool and ultra-heavy band, really just making you smirk in amusement. There is no need for music at work when you have a walking podcast following you around and helping you take down muggers together with insanely impressive acrobatic skills. You still wonder how his bones move like that, because there‘s no way a normal human being is capable of the same things he does.

But he is just as amazed by you at the same time, always staring as subtly as he can, wanting to take in every detail of your unique suit and accessories you wear with it. Yes, he never saw your face before, but he is in love. It‘s gotten to that point where even Alfred awaits you for dinner any day.

At the moment, he is crouching down beside you at the edge of the rooftop, keeping watch over a troublesome area in this part of the neighbourhood. He glances at you every so often, finally catching a glimpse of your ear under your shagged hair. Dick keeps his eyes on the shiny piercings, eyes widening once he spots the stretched earlobe. It‘s not much, but adds an even extremer look to everything else.

»Woah, you have stretched ears?«

You share a glance at him, tucking some hair behind your ear for him to see better.

»Just noticed?«

He gives you a goofy smile in return and reaches up to lightly touch it, admiring the plug you have in it. It‘s shiny in the moonlight, seeing the spiral design on it. Dick smiles softly at it, keeping his eyes on you while poking it gently.

»Cool.«

He sounds like an amazed child who sees the ninja turtles for the first time. It‘s amusing and also flattering to know that someone as big and strong thinks you are cool.

The patrols always have some kind of routine between the two of you. You both take a break at some point, making him discover another small detail about you and asking questions for the rest of the few hours. He has also learnt about the bands you listen to from your various pins and patches on your vest, listening to some of their songs once he gets back home. Just to expand his music taste and playlist, of course.

But he won‘t lie; he loves every single detail and fact about you, likes how casual you are when explaining new stuff to him, or gets into your element if he luckily asks you about an interesting topic. Like, the evolution of the emo and metal scene throughout the years. It‘s as if you get even more passionate talking about those than beating and locking up criminals.

Dick has learned a lot from you already, considering himself an expert at this point because of how detailed you explain certain topics and bands to him. Even his brothers know some stuff about certain bands because he can‘t stop talking about you around them. Every time you aren‘t around, he misses you a lot more than he‘d like. It‘s a shame you haven‘t exchanged any kind of socials or numbers because of your safety. This is one thing he is starting to hate every day more and more about you. The fact that he can‘t contact you in any way is humiliatingly sad.

And every once in a while, he gets you small gifts. Such as new pins of that one band you once mentioned to him, new ear plugs with a cool design, and silly stickers he knows you‘ll like.

You have a total of fifteen pins, four pairs of new gauges for your ears, and an endless amount of stickers because they‘re too easy to find. All from Dick, from the past month.

These gifts and the way he always listens and remembers details about your interests make you fall harder and harder for him. At first, you didn‘t really see the appeal of him. But now, hanging out with him unwillingly, has shown you just how cute and attentive he really is. You even got him a shirt of his own favourite band one day, and it seemed like he would drop down to one knee and propose at any moment. But he held himself back, he still has some self-control after all.

Once he noticed the new style in your hair, he really tried to think of ways on how to impress you in more ways than knowledge. He tried to convince Alfred to dye his hair blue, or at least get some stripes into it, but he refused, saying he shouldn‘t make impulsive decisions like that. But once Dick mentioned it‘s because you got these silly stripes and racoon tails in your hair, he teased him for the rest of the evening of his painfully obvious crush.

»I just like their style!«

»That‘s what you have been telling us for the past three months.«

And it went on with Dick showing you endless tricks and athletics, explaining the theory of each move and how to not break your neck while doing so. You are impressed by his skills, it feels like being children again, showing each other what cool stuff you know and are able to do, getting still impressed by the easiest and normal stuff.

You both go on bike rides together from time to time, competing sometimes as well. He is able to do wheelies, but that‘s a little too dangerous for you to copy.

Eventually, your friendship got really close after those three months of patrolling together and sharing knowledge with each other, of Dick making a fool of himself just to impress you in some way, and endless small gifts.

Despite everything, you‘re trying to keep it professional with him some way. But it doesn‘t help when he is using every single opportunity to touch or stay close to you. It‘s not like you are complaining, you secretly enjoy him being more touchy and sweet to you. You mostly mask it with being playful and pretending to not get the subtle hints he is dropping at you.

There‘s still some sort of trust you have to gain from him in order for you to reveal your identity to him, even when he is smart enough to find it out himself. But he won‘t do it, both in respect towards you and in hopes you will actually trust him enough some time to reveal yourself.

←MASTERLIST

a/n: an open ending, how original. anyway, hope you enjoyed it!!

[leahrintarou]

Hey this might sound weird but I’ll do my best to explain could you do a suna fix where he works for you dad working on cars together at you family owned garage that is on you property and you two secretly like talk and other stuff ;)

✩₊˚.⋆ DENIAL - suna rintarou

CW: swearing, make out sesh (suggestive maybe), petname "angel" used, y/n is in denial, suna is in love. he's a tease, reader uses she/her, i love this man oml Word Count: 2.3k Author's Note: DOESNT SOUND WEIRD AT ALL, ANON! i hope you enjoy :). ty for reading. make sure to send in a request if you ever have any ideas that you want me to write <3

y/n wiped sweat from her brow, leaving behind a stripe of grease residue. she was currently working at the family owned car shop that he dad has been around ever since she was a child. the second she was able to gold things on her own, she's been by her dad's side helping him every chance she got. she loved it and couldn't imagine a better lifestyle.

however, there was a catch that came in the form of suna rintarou. he stood a few feet away from her, finishing up the final touches on one of the cars that was recently dropped off at the shop for a maintenance check. a lazy smirk was on his lips when y/n's eyes caught his figure.

"its rude to stare, y/n."

y/n was tempted to throw the tool in her hand directly at him but thought twice, opposing from the idea. "i rather stare at a wall. don't flatter yourself." she rolled her eyes. that might've been a lie and might've been the truth. suna was attractive, that she could confidently say about him. however, she would often catch herself admiring him way too often.

how his bottom lip always tucked between his teeth as he was focused, his lazy and low-lidded gaze that would intimidate any customer that showed up, hence the reason why he called y/n over anytime assistance was needed.

"all you have to do is give them a little smile, dude."

"why would i smile at a stranger who expects me to charge them a penny for a week's worth of work?"

suna chuckled at y/n's words. he was dressed in loose fitting jeans that were stained with oil. his hoodie matched that oil stained design and somehow, he was still able to make it appear to look like something out of a fashion magazine.

"right, sure." he shook his head, leaning against the car after shutting it's hood. "you know the more you deny it, the more i know that you like me, right?"

"me liking you? your cockiness makes me sick." she shook her head. "if i had to choose between you and oil spill, id pick the oil."

suna didn't miss a beat. "you say that now, but it sounds like you'd enjoy getting dirty here with me."

her pulse quickened, and she cursed herself for reacting. he always did this-teased her just enough to make her flustered, but not enough to cross a line. he'd been working here for months now, and ever since he'd started, it had been a constant back-and-forth between them.

she liked to pretend he annoyed her, but he had this frustrating ability to crawl under her skin and make her feel things she didn't want to admit. her dad was in the back, probably fixing some engine part, leaving her alone with suna in the main garage. she grabbed a rag and wiped her hands, desperate for a distraction.

"you got something to say, or are you just going to stand there grinning like an idiot all day?" she muttered, turning her attention to the car in front of her. "hey, i'm actually working here," suna said with mock innocence as he bent under the hood of a car. "just trying to keep this place running smoothly. you should thank me, y'know? without me, your dad would be way more stressed."

she rolled her eyes. "you're delusional. dad could run this place fine without you. suna's eyes flicked up to meet hers from under the hood, a mischievous glint in them. "maybe, but it's more fun having me around, isn't it?"

her face heated up again, and she cursed under her breath. how did he always manage to get under her skin like this? "you're lucky you're good with cars," she muttered, pretending to focus on the engine. "otherwise, you'd be out of here."

"i’ll take that as a compliment," he said, standing up and stretching, his hoodie riding up just enough for her to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach. he smirked when he noticed her staring. "like what you see?"

she scowled and threw the rag at him, which he caught effortlessly. "you wish, suna."

"yeah, i do," he shot back, leaning closer. his voice dropped, teasing, but softer. "come on, y/n. you can’t pretend you don’t like me forever."

she swallowed, not trusting herself to speak. she hated how easily he could fluster her, how he always knew exactly what to say to make her heart race. but he was also frustratingly right. as much as she tried to ignore it, there was something about him that drew her in. the teasing, the flirting, the way he always seemed so calm and collected, like nothing ever rattled him—it was annoyingly attractive.

"i can try," she muttered, turning her back to him.

he chuckled again, but it was softer this time, more genuine. "you’re fun to mess with, you know that?"

"glad i could be your entertainment," she deadpanned.

"you make it too easy," he said, leaning against the car again, watching her. his gaze was heavy, and it made her skin tingle. "but seriously, y/n. you’re not fooling anyone. i know you like me."

she huffed in frustration, finally turning to face him. "what makes you so sure?"

suna’s grin widened. "because if you really hated me, you wouldn’t let me get away with half the stuff i say to you. and you wouldn’t get all flustered every time i do this—"

his thumb met with the area just above her eyebrow, wiping away the smudge of grease. her breath hitched, and she cursed herself for reacting. his eyes locked onto hers, and for a second, the playful teasing was gone, replaced by something deeper, something that made her stomach flip.

she slapped his hand away, even though her heart was beating out of her chest. "you’re so full of yourself."

"maybe," he said, his voice low. "but that doesn’t mean i’m wrong."

she hated how right he was. she hated how he made her heart race, how he always seemed to know exactly what buttons to press. but more than anything, she hated that she kind of liked it. before she could respond, her dad’s voice called out from the back of the garage. "y/n! suna! i need a hand back here."

she jumped at the sound, grateful for the interruption. quickly wiping her hands in a rag, she turned toward the back. "coming!"

suna followed her, his presence a little too close for comfort. as they approached the back where her dad was working on a stubborn engine, she tried to shake off the lingering tension. but suna, of course, wasn’t about to let it go.

"hey, y/n," he whispered as they walked, his breath warm against her ear. "you never answered my question."

"what question?" she muttered, refusing to look at him.

he leaned even closer, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "do you like what you see?"

instead of answering, she clenched her jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response, and settled on throwing her elbow back to meet with his abdomen. he caught it just in time and pulled her back to him.

"that's not nice, angel."

"oh, fuck off."

---

hours later, after her dad had gone home and the sun was setting outside, the garage was quiet. she and suna were the only ones left, finishing up the last of the work for the day. the silence between them was heavier now, the teasing from earlier still hanging in the air.

"you’re quiet," suna commented as he wiped down his tools. "something on your mind?"

"nope," she lied, trying to focus on organizing the wrenches on the wall.

suna smirked, walking over to her. he stood behind her, his presence looming, and she could feel the heat of him even though he wasn’t touching her. "still mad at me for making you flustered earlier?"

"i wasn’t flustered," she scoffed.

he chuckled, and she felt his breath on her neck. "sure you weren’t." she spun around, glaring at him. "what do you want, suna? why do you always have to mess with me?"

his smirk faded slightly, and for a moment, his expression softened. he stepped closer, and suddenly, she felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room.

"maybe i just like being around you," he said, his voice quieter now. "ever think of that?"

'well you make it hard for me to like being around you' she thought to herself.

y/n stared at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. this wasn’t the usual teasing suna; this was different. she opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat.

suna reached out, his fingers brushing her arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "you're killing me, y/n."

her heart pounded in her chest, and she hated that he was right. she hated that, despite all the teasing and banter, she actually liked him. more than she wanted to admit. "you’re insufferable," she muttered, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

suna’s lips twitched into a small smile, and he stepped even closer, closing the distance between them. "maybe. but you still like me."

she rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "unfortunately."

suna grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "knew it."

y/n barely had time to react before suna closed the space between them, his lips crashing against hers in a way that was both surprising and inevitable. there was nothing slow or gentle about it—it was hungry, desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long. her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t pull away. instead, she found herself pushing into the kiss, gripping the front of his hoodie as if she needed to anchor herself to something real.

suna’s hands found her waist, fingers digging into her sides as he pulled her closer, pressing her back against the workbench. she sighed against his lips, her heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire, every touch of his lips against hers sending sparks down her spine.

he broke the kiss first, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the heated space between them. his voice, usually full of teasing, was low and rough. “this is what you were in denial of for so long?”

y/n blinked up at him, her mind still spinning from the kiss, trying to find her words. “shut up—” but her voice came out breathless, and she hated how easily he unraveled her.

suna’s lips curved into a slight smirk, though there was something softer in his eyes now, something that made her chest tighten. “you’ve been pushing me away for so long,” he murmured, hands warm against her skin. “but i think you wanted this just as much as i did.”

“you’re wrong,” she tried to snap back, but the way her voice shook betrayed her. she hated that he was right, hated how much she wanted him, how much she had been pretending not to feel anything.

“yeah?” he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “then tell me to stop.”

y/n opened her mouth, but no words came out. her mind was screaming at her to push him away, to tell him he was wrong, but her body wasn’t listening. instead, her fingers tightened in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. “i hate you,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

suna chuckled softly, leaning down to brush his lips against hers again. “you don’t hate me.”

this kiss was slower, more deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. y/n’s breath hitched as his hand slid up her back, pulling her flush against him. she could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through his chest, matching the frantic rhythm of her own.

when they finally pulled apart, suna’s eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them, his smirk replaced by something more serious. “you can’t keep pretending you don’t feel anything,” he murmured, his voice soft but insistent.

y/n bit her lip, her heart still racing, her mind a mess of emotions. “and what if i don’t want to feel this?” she asked, her voice shaky.

suna’s gaze softened, and he reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “then stop lying to yourself,” he said quietly. “because i’m not going anywhere.”

her chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in them catching her off guard. she didn’t want to admit how much she cared, how much she had been holding back. but in this moment, with his lips inches from hers and his hand still resting on her cheek, it felt impossible to keep pretending.

without saying another word, she leaned in again, capturing his lips in a kiss that was softer this time, less rushed, but just as intense. she didn’t know what this meant, didn’t know what would happen after tonight. but right now, with suna’s arms around her and his lips against hers, none of that seemed to matter.

suna wiped his hands on a rag and tossed it aside, the sun casting an orange glow through the garage windows. the day had slowed down, leaving only the two of them, the steady hum of the shop’s quiet settling around them. he stretched lazily, catching y/n’s eyes on him for a split second.

“alright, i’m heading out,” he said, his voice smooth as always. his eyes lingered on her, softer than usual. “you need anything before i go?”

y/n shook her head, busying herself by wiping down a tool. “nah, i’m good.”

suna took a step toward the door, hesitating for a moment. the smirk on his face softened into something gentler. he gave her one last look before heading out.

“see you tomorrow, angel,” he called over his shoulder, his tone light, almost teasing.

y/n glanced up, catching his eyes just as he disappeared through the door, the sound of his voice leaving a warmth in the air even after he was gone.

likes, reblogs, and comments are well appreciated! <3

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[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 71

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 4K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Sunday, March 20th; 8:30 AM - At Lucy's place.  

I sigh softly as I notice the daylight filling the room. I already know I won’t be able to fall back asleep, even though I’ve barely woken up. I want to move, but I’m quickly stopped by a strong arm wrapped around me. I smile as lips press against my collarbone. Looks like I’m not the only one awake... Not surprising, knowing the woman behind me.

"We forgot to close the shutters," Lucy murmurs.

I chuckle softly at this, which seemed obvious to me. Lucy groans, tightening her hold around me. I understand she’s stretching before slipping her leg between mine. The feeling of our skin touching brings me immense comfort. A sigh of contentment escapes me.

"Good morning," I finally respond.

"Hey," she laughs. "Sorry, I forgot my manners."

I tilt my head back to look at her, and she takes the opportunity to capture my lips. I smile at her and eventually lie on my back so I can see her without straining. Lucy stays on her side, smiling in return as she watches me.

"Are you okay? How do you feel?" she asks.

"Incredibly good," I reply with a knowing smile.

She laughs again, gently running her fingers through my hair. I don’t need to ask her the same question in return. It’s obvious she’s doing well too. Her face glows with happiness. As for me, I struggle to look at her as I adjust to the light, but I force my eyes to stay open so I don’t miss this view. I feel tired but so content at the same time. It’s hard to put into words. The important thing is, I feel good. I finally got over the hurdle, and I was happy about it.

"What time is it?"

"Certainly early for you," she smiles. "Eight thirty."

I groan, snuggling against her. She teases me, but I don’t mind. It’s definitely too early for me. I would’ve loved to enjoy a little more sleep. Even one more hour would’ve been perfect. Lucy kisses my forehead, holding me tight. Well, at least I can savor this moment since Lucy doesn’t seem inclined to get up. I completely relax, lying on top of her. She continues to cradle me in her arms. We stay like this for a while before she suggests:

"I’m going to take a shower. Want to join me?"

The question caught me off guard at first, but the answer was obvious. We had nothing to hide from each other anymore, given the night we had.

"Yeah, I’d love to, if you’re up for it."

I lift my head, smiling when I see Lucy’s expression. She didn’t expect that answer, it seems. Yet, that’s how we ended up under the warm water. We washed each other’s bodies as if we hadn’t already explored them enough the night before. It was the most intimate experience I’ve ever had with someone, but I loved it. Especially with Lucy. I have no doubt we’ll do it more often from now on.  

We finally made our way to the kitchen, me wearing Lucy’s t-shirt and my joggers. I wanted to feel her presence on me everywhere now. Our hair was still slightly wet, but we didn’t care. Lucy put the cake batter we prepared last night in the fridge while preheating the oven. She then started making scrambled eggs with bacon while I set the table with our drinks: coffee for Lucy and orange juice for me. My stomach growled once I finished, making my girlfriend laugh.

"Are you hungry, perhaps?"

"Just a little," I admit, blushing.

"It’ll be ready soon."

"When do we need to head to the gym?"

"Oh, you’re already getting into it?" she asks with a teasing smile.

"Well, it was kind of fun yesterday," I reply shyly.

"We don’t have a set time. I thought we could go around 10:30, after breakfast and getting ready."

I nod. I’m eager to go, but at the same time, I don’t want to break the bubble we’ve created between us. We’re in a completely serene atmosphere that I’m not ready to let go of. Still, I want to support my girlfriend’s project. It’s partly my duty, but also, I’ve grown to love spending time with our friends now that I know them better.

"Alright, I’ll put the cake in the oven, and we can eat."

She takes care of that while I serve what she just prepared to speed things up. Lucy insists on bringing the cake. After everything that’s happened, I hope it at least turns out well. Given what she managed to create, it should be.

Sunday, March 20th; 1:30 PM - At the gym.

I feel uncomfortable. Alexia is making me uncomfortable. The boys are working in the locker room while Lucy left us to throw away our McDonald’s bags from lunch. We’re not talking, but the air is thick with unspoken words and her teasing smile. Alexia isn’t fooled. When your friend is covered in hickeys and happiness radiates between her and her girlfriend, there aren’t many options. Lucy wasn’t discreet. At least I marked her in places hidden by clothes. That’s far from the case for me. My neck was a violet mess. For once, I wish Alexia would say something instead of silently teasing me, but that doesn’t seem to be her intention. After a while, I turn to her, abandoning today’s task of tearing off the old wallpaper from the break room now that all the furniture has been removed.

"Are you going to talk?"

"About what?" she plays innocent. "It’s your turn to speak," she teases.

"True..." I mumble.

She bursts out laughing. Our friends had been making jokes all day, and I was getting tired of it. Lucy managed to ignore them, but I couldn’t. I was uncomfortable.

"There’s nothing to say. It’s your private life, but I’m just happy for you," she says with a knowing smile that makes me blush. "And if you want some advice—or rather, a few... Be less expressive next time, and maybe hide the marks better. It looks like Lucy’s a leech."

Now it’s my turn to laugh. I can’t argue with her. I’m marked all over. Mostly on my neck, but also on my chest, and even on my stomach and thighs. I thought I was seeing things this morning in the mirror, but I was too euphoric to mention it.

"Yeah, she went a bit wild... Anyway, thanks, Ale."

"Oh, it’s no big deal."

"And what about you? You seem a bit off, no?"

She takes a deep breath, shrugging.

"Alba’s been driving me nuts since last night. She’s bombarding me with messages... I think she expected me to stay over at Misa’s or something. Anyway, we had a bit of a fight."

"Oh... She hasn’t realized you’re seeing someone?"

"She knows. Well, we talked about it briefly, but I guess she didn’t realize it was this serious, or maybe she just doesn’t accept it."

"I think it’s the second one. Since she doesn’t know her and all, she’s probably worried seeing it’s so serious. You get what I mean?"

"Yeah, but still. She’s the complicated one. You’ve heard her. She still talks about Luna and Jenni as if it was something reckless. How do you think she’ll react when she finds out it was me?"

"Hopefully differently. I mean, you’re her sister, after all."

"Hmm... I doubt it... Anyway, things are tense between us now."

"Yeah... I can imagine."

I don’t add anything as I see Lucy returning.

"What happened to your efficiency from this morning?" she mockingly scolds us.

"We were waiting for you," I reply. "You didn’t think we wouldn’t save you some work, did you?"

I say that knowing full well she’s probably done the most work today.

"Oh yeah, no chance of you forgetting me," she replies with a mischievous smile.

I blush as she wraps her arms around me and kisses the tip of my nose. Since last night, she’s been giving me the impression that she’s even more in love than before. I didn’t think that was possible. One thing’s for sure, I no longer have any doubts about her feelings.

"Come on, let’s get to work. It’d be great if we could finish today," she says.

- How are the guys doing? Ale asks.

I appreciate the connections forming between them. Alexia is becoming increasingly comfortable with Lucy’s presence. They’re chatting much more, without any pressure. She’s understood that outside of school, she’s no longer the intimidating instructor. In fact, all my friends have pointed out that she’s softened since I’ve been around. It’s a good thing, in a way. At least she’s finally accepted her best friend’s girlfriend.

- They’re still working on the locker rooms, my girlfriend replies.

- How are they dealing with the plumbing? I ask.

- Everything is already in place, as it was already a locker room. Someone will come next week to check if everything is up to code and see if we need to adjust according to our plans, she explains.

- Oh, okay. What an organization! You really think of everything.

- We try, she says proudly.

I don’t know how they do it. I wouldn’t have been able to do what they’re achieving. They’re young, but they’re really not afraid of anything. The afternoon continues with good humor and music. Lucy has managed to disconnect me this weekend. I even start to feel down when the clock strikes ten. In a few hours, I’ll have to dive back into a much less pleasant atmosphere than this weekend. Lucy suggested ending the day with a meal at The United before heading back to school. I didn’t know that bar served food, but Lucy told me they offer quick dishes. Luckily, we prepared and took our bags this morning. Alexia didn’t, but it’s not a problem since the bar is near her apartment. When we arrive at the bar, I’m surprised by the crowd for a Sunday night. We must not be the only ones wanting to end the weekend quietly.

- Are you allowed to drink before your shift? I tease my girlfriend, who is taking her first sip of beer.

- Take care of your own drink, will you? I’m not “on duty” until tomorrow morning anyway, she retorts, making quotation marks with her fingers. You know, when I have to check your room?

I stick my tongue out at her and cross my arms, making our friends laugh. Lucy puts her arm around my shoulders and kisses my cheek.

- You should have had one too, instead of sticking with your soda, Aitana mocks from the end of the table.

- Hey, don’t criticize my drink, you bunch of alcoholics.

Even Alexia had left me tonight, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t want any alcohol. It was seven o’clock when our burgers were served. Unfortunately, we couldn’t linger since we had to return to school within an hour. The meal was brief but effective. I was stuffed when leaving the bar. We followed Jenni to her place so Ale could get her stuff, and then we set off for a new week. I feel uneasy during the drive. Responsibilities will return tomorrow. Lucy spent her time stroking my thigh, as if she knew what I was thinking. It was pretty obvious given how silent I was. We arrive at school. Lucy drops us off at the street nearby so we can finish on foot. A final goodbye and a last kiss shared before watching her drive away. We finish on foot, dragging our bags with Ale. It’s late. I think it’s the first time I’m coming back to school so late.

- Are you okay? You seem... Disconnected.

Alexia couldn’t have described the situation better. I sigh, running my hand through my hair.

- I’m okay... I’m a bit worried about the upcoming tests, I admit only partially.

- You don’t care, she rolls her eyes. Well, I know they’ll assess our ability to understand a lesson, but it doesn’t mean failing will ruin your chances for the May exams.

- I’m afraid of not being ready, I confess. Lucy had to pull me away from my studies because I was becoming obsessed.

- I think she did a pretty good job...

I give her a nudge at her implication, and we burst into laughter. She’s not wrong. This weekend was exceptional, but will she manage to make the next ones just as great? It’s hard to say.

- It’s not funny.

- Come on, at least tell me one thing... Was it worth it?

I laugh again, shaking my head. I’m not sure if she’s joking, but my good mood makes me want to respond.

- Oh yes. She really knows what she’s doing.

We arrive at the reception where the woman tells us we’re almost late. She opens the doors for us and wishes us a good evening. We return the sentiment and continue down the hallway. After a while, Ale resumes the conversation.

- Really? Well, I’ve only known Jenni, so it’s hard to judge, she says with a slight blush.

- You’re lucky to have only known one person. I wish it were my case too... Feli only cared about her pleasure, so...

- I see... And if you had to compare Mapi and Lucy? Because, well, I suppose it’s down to those two now.

I smile and nod. I haven’t known anyone else besides those three.

- It would be Lucy.

- Even after a night? she laughs.

- It was... There are no words. Maybe I’m moving too fast, but it was truly powerful, intimate, and full of love. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy being with Mapi. I did, but it was really different.

I’m really glad to have Alexia in my life. I couldn’t talk about this with anyone else if she weren’t here. She listens and nods with a small smile.

- I understand you, and you’ve reassured me at the same time. The way you describe it, I feel like it’s us, Jenni, and me. You’re probably right in saying it depends on oneself and the person on the other side. I think you just need to find the right person for a good connection, and I believe we both have found that.

I smile at her response, but it fades quickly when I see Alba pacing in front of our dorm. Misa is with her, sitting on the steps, looking bored. Alexia’s words come back to me, and I sense trouble.

- Oh no, Ale whispers.

- Yeah, I see, I reply as we get closer.

We see Misa talking. She must have warned her of our arrival because she turns sharply towards us as soon as we approach.

- Finally! I was getting anxious, she yells as soon as we’re within earshot.

- What’s your problem? her sister replies with indifference.

- What’s my problem? she repeats. Did you see what time you’re arriving? I thought you wouldn’t come back!

- Calm down, we’re here now. There’s no need to make a fuss.

I try to defuse the situation, but I can see there’s no use. Alba is fuming. She goes into an endless monologue about how crazy her sister is. She thought she wouldn’t come back. Ale tries to respond at times, but she doesn’t have much luck. She accuses her of never telling her where she is or who she’s with, and for that, she’s not entirely wrong. She’s driving me crazy. It’s insane. She’s known for a long time that she’s with someone. There’s never been a problem before. She must have realized it’s serious now that it’s been going on for a while. I knew it was tense, but not to this extent. Alexia must have downplayed it when I asked her questions, it’s the only explanation.

- And what about you? Do I ask you where you are every time? Let me live a little.

- She was with me, relax, I try again to defend her.

I give up as she continues shouting, ignoring my comment. It’s really the word. I look at Misa, who has stood up. She seems just as alarmed as I am. The last thing we want is to get into trouble. I’m relieved when I finally see Lucy approaching us.

- Oh! What’s going on here!?

Her voice manages to overpower Alba’s, who stops immediately. She now looks like a deer caught in headlights, having been caught in the act.

- Do you want me to help you shout like this in front of the dorm!?

- It’s just that, I was worried about my sister, she responds.

- Oh, and that gives you the right to shout like this? Can you imagine if everyone acted like you? It’s past eight o’clock. You should be in your rooms by now! We’ll see if you’ll be so ambitious tomorrow morning when I deal with you.

- That won’t be necessary.

- I think I’m still the one making the decisions here! That wasn’t a question. You’ll be with me for the day, and we’ll sort this out in my office after classes, no exceptions.

The tender Lucy from this weekend is clearly gone tonight. Alba clenches her fists and grinds his teeth. I can see from my place that she’s holding back from responding.

If I were in her place, I wouldn’t do it; it could end badly. Without saying another word, she turns her back on her and slams the door as she goes into the dorm.

- I’ll go calm her down, Misa says.

With those words, she hurries to catch up with her before it’s too late. We remain silent after this unexpected attack until Lucy lets out a heavy sigh.

- Can I not leave you alone for even five minutes?

- Thanks, Alexia murmurs. I really don’t know what got into her...

- We’ll deal with this tomorrow. It’s time for you to head upstairs.

Alexia looks to me for support, but I know when it’s best to negotiate with Lucy. It’s certainly not the time now. Alba managed to irritate my girlfriend ahead of time, having to intervene tonight already.

- We’ll head up, I reply. Have a good night...

My words manage to relax her a bit. We exchange a small smile.

- Thanks... Sleep well too.

She turns around while we stay in place. Alexia turns to me when she’s at a safe distance so she can’t hear us.

- Why didn’t you say anything!? I don’t want to face Alba in her office! This whole thing doesn’t need to get back to Jenni!

- Calm down. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. It wasn’t the right moment to bring it up given her mood.

My roommate sighs heavily, running her hand across her face. I understand her situation, but talking about it tonight wouldn’t have helped.

- Let’s go upstairs. We’ll talk about it up there.

- No, it’s fine, she mumbles.

She heads in first without waiting for me. What a mood... No need to wait until tomorrow to get to the bottom of things. We reach our room together, but Alexia doesn’t wait to dive into the bathroom, where I hear the shower turn on. I understand she doesn’t want to discuss it further. I take this time to unpack my suitcase. At least that will be done. If our return starts like this, I don’t even want to imagine the week ahead. Well, at least one day will be off thanks to my outing, so there’s that. When Alexia emerges, I’ve just finished with my suitcase. I then take my turn to change and brush my teeth. There’s still half an hour before curfew, but the mood has definitely faded since. When I come out, I notice Alexia has started a series on her computer with her headphones on. Since she still doesn’t want to talk, I start reading a book I found in Lucy’s library. I was surprised to find a huge shelf full of books in her office. She told me I could help myself, so I did. I spend the rest of the evening reading and my mind is still agitated. I hope everything will be okay between Ale and Alba. The last thing I want is for them to not get along anymore. Alexia won’t admit it, but I don’t think she can live without her for long. They’re far too close for that. We all have secrets. Especially here, but it’s time for her to reveal hers.

[starlightsuffered]

Do you think you could write a timmy fic where "it just doesn't fit" like, it hurts whenever they try, how gentle they are.

A/N - I’ve done ones like this before but here :)

It Just Doesn’t Fit

Info - angst, frustrated reader, oral/fingering (female receiving), virgin reader, big dick, using lube, unprotected sex, a bit of praise kink

“Just give it up,” I said, the feeling of sadness overwhelming me.

After a hard month of a difficult work environment and Timothée being gone often, I wanted to feel in control of something. My boyfriend suggest I pick the day we have sex for the first time.

We’d talked about it extensively over text. He would be my first and though many people had told me otherwise, I expected it to be magical. Timothée had promised he would make it as lovely as possible.

Now I felt like shit I lay in my own sweat and rose petals. I was hot and my hair was everywhere. It had started romantic until I’d cried out in pain Timothée had started to push in. It didn’t matter how many angles we tried. We were both grunting and frustrated.

He had offered to finger me or eat me out. We’d already done that and I wanted something new. I wanted one, just one of my plans to come through correctly. I didn’t want to feel like a failure in every aspect of life.

“Don’t bother, it’s just too big,” I sniffled. Suddenly, I was crying. I covered my overheated cheeks as the tears flowed. I tried to stop desperately but it just made my eyes well even more.

“Hey, no, baby,” Timothée said with concern lacing his tone.

“I just wanted one fucking thing to go right this month,” I snapped. I wasn’t angry with him, just the situation.

“Mon amour,” his voice was nearly a whisper that cracked with emotion. I heard a gulp from him and he laid his head on my chest. My hand automatically went to his hair. I made myself breathe more slowly.

“I thought, ‘well maybe even if my boyfriend is gone most of the time, I can at least give him some bomb pussy when he’s around’.”

“Oh baby,” he said mournfully. He pressed a chaste kiss to my exposed nipple. I shivered a bit.

“Look, I don’t want to force you, but I bet I can loosen you up a bit, and I’ve got lube,” he offered in a small voice.

“I want it,” I nodded.

“I know you’d imagine we’d get right into it, but you just need some prep baby, that’s expected. Don’t you dare worry about it, I’ve got you,” Timothée was smiling as he nearly blabbered.

“I want to make it good for you,” I said as I squeezed the last tears out.

“Honey, just let me take care of you. It is your first time. You’ve been going through hell. Let me help you,” he whispered.

I let him maneuver me. He gently spread my legs and kissed my inner thighs. His deft thumbs rolled circles on my nipples. I was already arching and relaxing. I was used to this, I didn’t feel a need to make it explosive because it was good every time.

“Yesssss, yes,” I gasped breathily. Timothée tongued at my clit for a bit before covering his fingers in the warming lube.

“Oh!” I jolted, my legs nearly closing as I felt the slick and tingling lube.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Timmy calmed me like a scared animal. I closed my eyes so I could relax again. His lips kissed up my stomach. He was leaving kitten licks and pecks. My breathing was getting to that familiar pant he made me do.

He nibbled at the place on my neck that made me crazy. My walls squeezed his long fingers. I let out a wanton whimper. My hands were all over him. Finally, his lips touched mine. I dove into the kiss.

I was pressing myself against him as much as I could. Somehow he was putting all of himself into this. I felt the warmth of his love and satisfaction with me. I could have cried. I’d been so lovely and anxious lately. He was making me completely melt.

He was kissing me with such adoration I hardly noticed when his hand changed over to his cock. He was milking the lube onto himself. I was shuddering at sounds of wetness.

“Want to try again?” He asked in a voice low and rumbling with need.

“Yes,” I gasped.

To my surprise he slowly, but surely, was sliding inside me. It still pinched a little but he seemed to adjust himself every so often so I wasn’t in so much pain. Finally, I felt his balls bump gently against me and I knew he’d bottomed out.

“You did it princess,” he breathed the praise. I couldn’t believe how wide I was smiling, in fact I was giggling. Timothée pressed his forehead against mine. He began to pump ever so slowly.

“Yes, yes, fuck yes,” I heaved in whispers of desperation and love.

“You feel so good. You feel like heaven,” he moaned. I loved the ways his brows furrowed in absolute pleasure.

“Fuck babbbbby,” I whined. I wrapped one leg around his waist and thrust upwards.

“Uh, uh, uh, uh,” Timothée grunted as he plunged inside me.

“So glad I could take your cock, so fucking happy I have this,” I groaned and threw my head back in bliss.

“My love, my girl,” he exclaimed and then he was all over my neck. He kissed and bit, giving me marks all over. I wanted to be littered with them. I wanted everyone to know who I belonged to. On those lonely nights when I felt like I could do anything right, I’d caress these bruises and remember this night.

“My cock belongs to you, my body, my heart, my soul,” he promised. His thrusts became faster as he fucked me. His hips snapped as he buried his face in my neck. He was mumbling praises and love into my ear.

“Gonna come,” I whispered.

“Let go on my dick for the first time,” he practically begged.

“Yes, oh fuck, my love, I’m fucking coming!” I cried out and arched against him. I felt my whole body tighten and then delicious release. I saw stars as every part of me exploded with intimate exhilaration.

Wetness and his own release mixed together. He was kissing me over and over as if it were all he knew. He had orgasmed as well, filling me with his gratification.

We were laughing now, all the stress falling away. It was sweet breathy kisses and whispered thanks to one another. It was like we were afraid to break the golden moment and the dreamy haze that surrounded us.

“Thank you my love. If you need it, I’ll carry you around tomorrow you will likely be sore,” he explained. He took my hand in his as he began to pull out.

“Cocky bastard,” I teased in a tight voice.

“I’m so happy I got to do that with you, so you can call me whatever you like,” he told me as he got the cloth to clean me and him up.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sweet Pumpkin Chapter 4

Summary:  Bucky is struggling with the dating world and knows that if he ever hopes to have a serious relationship, that he needs to get through his touch deprivation issues.  It’s not that he doesn’t want to touch people, or them to touch him, but after decades of pain he doesn’t know how to accept physical intimacy from others, or how to give it himself.  He hires Y/N, an intimacy coach and professional cuddler, who comes highly recommended.  Will his heart be able to distinguish between a service given versus real love?

Warnings: mentions of past violence and past sexual assault, language, physical intimacy, eventual smut

**curvy reader

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Bucky took her out on dates as often as he could, and when they weren’t going out, he was spending time with her in her apartment.  She came over to his apartment once in a while, but he preferred her space.  He was taking it slow with her, wanting to make sure they were both comfortable with each other and the way the relationship was progressing.  He was ready to go all in, but knew with her past and his past that it was going to have to be handled with care.  The farthest they had ever gone was making out with each other while Y/N straddled Bucky’s lap, and that was okay with him, as long as she was okay with it, too.  A couple of months later Sam came to visit him after a long stint of missions.

“Hey Buck,” he said, hugging him.

“Hey Sam,” Bucky greeted him, hugging him back.  “How were the missions?”

“A mess,” Sam rolled his eyes and sighed.  “But what else is new.  How are things going with you?  You still working with Y/N?”

Bucky blushed.  “Uh, yeah I was.  It was really helpful.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at him.  “What was that look?”

“What look?”

“Did you just blush?”

“No.”

“You did!  What did you do?”

“What do you mean what did I do?”

Sam frowned.  “You’re dating her now, aren’t you?”

Bucky fought a smirk.  “Maybe.”

Sam sighed again but smiled.  “I hope there was no unethical client-therapist type of relationship going on?”

“No, no no no,” Bucky quickly shook his head.  “We didn’t do anything like that.”

Sam nodded.  “But you’re happy?”

Bucky finally smiled at him.  “Yeah.”

He considered Sam a great friend, never needing to fully explain things or speak a lot.  They just understood each other silently.  Sam smirked.  “You better make her happy, or I’ll have to kick your ass.”

Bucky snorted.  “You wish, Birdman.”

***

It was a holiday weekend, and Y/N had taken the time off from her usual clients.  Bucky was laying with her on her bed in her room, talking and casually lounging on a slow Saturday evening.  They were cuddling together, Bucky being the big spoon this time with her back against his front.  His fingers slowly tickled along her side, over her hip and down the side of her leg and up again.  She was playing with his metal fingers.

“I can never get enough of this,” Y/N said suddenly.  “This is just the coolest thing.”

“What?  My arm?” Bucky asked, huffing a laugh.

“Yes!” Y/N exclaimed, pulling his hand up.  “Like…not just the technology aspect of it but the artistry!  To manipulate metal into something that looks lifelike, the ability to make it so you can feel things with it, adjust grip and strength like a normal hand.  And this gold peeking out,” she said in a breathy, reverent tone, her finger sliding along the edge of one of the plates in his palm, “it’s beautiful.”

Bucky smiled at how much she admired a part of him that he still was insecure about.  “It’s definitely useful,” he said nonchalantly.

“I’m sure,” Y/N laughed.  She flicked his palm.  “Can you feel that?”

“Yes,” Bucky said.  “It’s more like a pressure thing.  I can’t feel things like pain with it.”

Y/N hummed before pulling his hand closer to her face.  She glanced back at Bucky then focused on his fingers.  She moved her head forward and kissed the tip of his pointer finger.  “How about that?”

Bucky shakily inhaled.  “It’s…yeah, barely.”

Y/N started kissing along his other fingers, twisting his hand each way she wanted.  She then licked at his pointer finger and sucked it into her mouth.  Bucky eyes widened at her actions.  He could feel the pressure of the sucking, but it was watching her mouth lick and suck that had him hardening in his pants.  

“Fuck, pumpkin,” he groaned.

Y/N popped his finger out of her mouth then looked back up at him, feigning an innocent smile.  “Yes?”

“You little tease,” Bucky said lowly.

“You like it,” Y/N said, her ass pushing against his groin.  “I can feel you like it.”

Bucky’s forehead leaned against her shoulder as he restrained himself from thrusting his hips against her.  “Pumpkin,” he warned.

“What do you want, hot stuff?” Y/N asked quietly, rolling her hips back against him again.

Bucky peered up at her.  “I wanna…God, I wanna do a lot of things to you,” said.  “Do you want to?”  Y/N gave him a reassuring smile.  “I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for–”

She quickly turned in his arms to face him, her hands cupping his face and her leg hiking up over his hip.  “I’m ready,” she whispered, kissing him.  “I want to.  I trust you…with all of me,” she rubbed her nose on his then bit her lip.  “I…I love you, Buck.”  Bucky let out a sharp breath at her confession, his eyes widening again.  “I’m in love with you…a lot…probably way too much,” Y/N huffed a laugh, breaking eye contact and looking down.

Bucky lifted her head with his finger under her chin and kissed her deeply.  “I love you Y/N,” he breathed against her lips.  “I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you from the moment you let me touch your face that first day.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and turned watery.  “I want you,” she said, “but um…it’s been a long time, and I’ll need you to be patient and gentle with me.”

“I can’t remember the last time I ever did this,” Bucky said.  “So we’ll take our time.  As long as I get to have your softness,” he said, kissing around her face randomly, “all over and around me.”

Y/N sniffed and nodded at him frantically.  “Please,” she whispered.  

Bucky nodded then kissed her again deeply, his hands slipping up into her hair and down her neck to her back, pulling her close to him.  Y/N’s hands were everywhere, sliding from his neck to behind his back, to his front and down his chest.  He maneuvered himself so he was hovering above her, breaking the kiss so he could start to kiss down her throat, licking and sucking at her skin, learning all the little spots that made her writhe and squirm.  He pulled at the lower hem of her shirt, and she nodded, giving him permission to pull it up and off of her, revealing her nakedness up top.  His hands immediately went to her breasts, softly massaging them, his thumbs rubbing against her nipples.  Her fingers pulled at his shirt, and he quickly pulled it off.  Y/N stared up at his upper half, her fingers tracing along his scars and dips in the muscle.  Bucky dipped his head down and licked her left nipple then sucked it into his mouth, making her moan.  

He gave each of her breasts ample attention before kissing back up to her mouth.  “So beautiful, pumpkin,” he whispered, nipping at her lower lip.  “Can I see all of you?”  Y/N nodded again and he focused on her pajama shorts.  His fingers dipped into the waistband of her shorts and underwear and pulled them down, Y/N helping him by lifting her pelvis.  He threw them off to the side and stared down at her pussy.  “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he breathed.  “Can I taste you?”

Y/N nodded again and he quickly shimmied down the bed until his face was aligned in between her legs.  He spread her legs wider with his hands then kissed right over her clit.  Y/N gasped and her hips jerked.  “I’ve got you, pumpkin,” Bucky said, licking her lower lips.  He licked, sucked, and kissed everywhere, alternating between sticking his tongue as deep into her as he could and then flicking her clit with the tip of his tongue until she was shaking.  He finally sucked her clit harshly, and it was enough to make her cum for the first time, a long, high pitched groan emanating from her throat as her fingers gripped at his hair harshly, her legs shaking against his shoulders.

“Oh my god,” Y/N breathed as she started to come down from the high.  “Bucky…honey, fucking hell.”

“I love it when you call me honey,” Bucky said, kissing her thighs as he sat up and crawled back up so he was hovering over her again.

“I thought you liked hot stuff,” Y/N said breathily as she laughed.

“Both.  Both are good,” he chuckled as he leaned down and kissed her.  

Y/N’s hands moved down and started to push at the hem of his pants.  Bucky quickly got out of his pants and underwear, kicking them off his legs until he was kneeling between her legs completely naked.  She stared at his cock, her eyes slightly widening.  “Now I’m nervous,” she said, looking hesitant.

Bucky laughed again.  “You’re making me feel really special, pumpkin,” he said.  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”  He gripped his cock in his hand, pumping himself a few times.  “Do we need a condom?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head.  “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.”

“I’m clean,” he said, then shuffled forward and slid the tip through her slit, making her shudder.  “Are you sure you want this?” he asked quietly, watching her face carefully.

Y/N smiled up at him.  “I’m sure,” she agreed.

Bucky smiled, then aimed himself at her entrance.  “You ready?”  Y/N nodded, looking down.  Bucky tsked and his metal hand softly grabbed her chin to make her look at him.  “Words, pumpkin.  Are you ready?”  

“Yes,” Y/N said, nodding frantically.  Bucky smirked then let go of her chin.  He started to move forward, and Y/N gasped at the stretch.  He went slow, making sure she wasn’t in physical or emotional pain.  When he was finally in as far as he could go he huffed a heavy breath and Y/N whined.  “Holy shit,” she said.  “That’s…fuck, that’s amazing.”

Bucky tried to keep his wits about him.  She felt so good, and he hadn’t done this in so long he was afraid he’d cum too fast.  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” he breathed, his top half folding over on top of her, his forehead resting against her shoulder.  “You feel so good.  So perfect.”

Y/N hummed and turned her head to kiss his ear.  “Please Bucky, please fuck me.”

Bucky groaned and his hips rutted into hers, pulling a high pitched grunt from her.  He lifted himself back up, his hands gripped her hips, and he started thrusting slowly.  The feeling of being swallowed up in her over and over again was addicting, and he knew he was ruined from that moment on for any other person.  Y/N reached down and pulled his hands away from her hips, then intertwined her fingers with his.  He leaned over her again so that their hands were up by her head.  She stared at him with those intense, knowing eyes of hers.  It all felt so incredibly intimate, soft, special, that he could barely look into those eyes.  He kissed her again, and she released her hands from his grip to wrap around his back, keeping him close and chest to chest with her.  

Bucky wrapped his metal arm under her neck, his forearm turned upward so his hand could tangle into her hair while he kissed her, his flesh hand reaching down and hiking her left leg higher over his hip, helping him drive further into her.  “Sweet pumpkin,” he murmured against her lips.  “Thank you.”

Y/N’s nails scratched down his back.  “For what?” she asked, looking at him curiously.

“For trusting me,” Bucky breathed.  “For wanting me.  For loving me.”  His hips started to move faster, chasing his release.  “Fuck, I’m close…”

Y/N hummed at his change of pace.  “Thank you for being so soft…and sweet…and gentle with me,” she whispered.  It was as if she was afraid of ruining the moment they were in.  “Please honey…”

Bucky moaned loudly at the pet name, hugging her tighter and keeping his face near her face.  He snuck his flesh hand between their bodies and started rubbing and flicking at her clit.  “I’ve got you, Y/N.  Can I cum inside you?  Please?”

Y/N moaned and nodded.  “Fuck yes,” she said lowly.

“Goddammit,” Bucky swore, his thrusts getting harder.  He flicked her clit quickly and then she stiffened, her back arching as she shook under him and came with a loud cry of his name.  The way her pussy squeezed him had him seeing stars and he came with a long groan, kissing her again and licking into her mouth.  They panted against each other’s mouths, Bucky resting his forehead against hers and staring at her.  He reveled in the exhausted, fucked-out look on her face, and kissed her everywhere he could reach, making her giggle.  “So good, pumpkin.  My god…so fucking good.  My pretty, sweet pumpkin…”

Y/N sighed, her breath huffing against his face.  “God, I love you,” she breathed, a tired smile on her face.

Bucky kissed her lips again, giving her short, chaste pecks and nuzzling his nose on her nose.  “I love you,” he said quietly.

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @cjand10 @railmesebstan

[squiddy-god]

If you ever write manhandling hcs or even a couple thoughts for Wuwa Geshulin or Jiyan.. I would be so grateful 🥺🙏💕

The way I stopped playing genshin when i saw this and started writing immediately because im lowkey obsessed with genshu lin like,,,his dark circles and bad personality have captivated me. I'm also very very obsessed with calcharo because he is the reason i started playing this game, but jiyan,,,augh genuinely wuwa needs to stop making men that are just so,,,so good,,, this assumes that genshu lin is like still living (i haven't gotten that far in the story) ♥︎REQUEST OPEN♥︎

Cw : manhandling obviously, possessiveness, jealousy, war mention, brief mention of canon typical violence, inappropriate touching of tacet mark, inappropriate use of electro,dry humping, overstim (genshu lin), prone bone, dare i say…jiyan Diphallia teehee, dragon rut (sue me) gn reader, all genders and sexes welcome reader is not specified to be rover, always implied chubby reader

Genshu lin 

Augh him-

Ok so i think that when he manhandles you it is totally on purpose

Genshu lin is very strong physically, as expected of a former general,, but he has the world's meanest manhandling streak in him

Honestly there aren't a lot of times he's not manhandling you 

I feel that there is a sort of deep seeded inferiority complex and a lot of that stems from his failure as former general and rivalry with jiyan, this however tends to bleed into other areas, causing there to be a harsh spike in jealousy for a man who is already on the jealous side 

What really gets him going is when someone shamelessly hits on you, not an often occurrence but it happens mostly on the off chance he isn't breathing down your neck 

Watching the other person flirt to their best attempt flares a possessiveness inside of genshu lin that has one of his hands gripping your hip as he quite literally drags you away 

The force makes you stumble and you realize that his previous good mood is gone

He isn't mad at you, assuming that you shut the other person down pretty immediately 

He loves to overstimulate you, hand on your sternum using his strength to keep you pinned down while he toys with you, constantly reminding you that he knows you can take it, take more, take as much as he gives until you are a shaking mess in his arms

And inevitably you are a shaking mess, chest heaving as the pressure from his palm finally lets up and admires his work, only for the real fun to begin- flipping your body onto your stomach and gripping the back of your thighs to squish them roughly in appreciation, admiring the soft plush feel in his rough hands, calloused from hardship 

Ounces he's had his fill of your thighs one hands presses roughly at the base of your spine traveling up the curve of your arched back until he can grip your jaw and turn you just enough to look at him

Its like genshu lin was made for manhandling because he seem to naturally be more on the rough side, from the way his scared lips press against you to roughly suck hickeys, to the way his hands grope and twist you, hold you against him, pin you down, you'd think it was a sparring match if it wasn't for the delicious press of his hard cock against you 

And for him to know that you like it? that you enjoy the rough way he handles you? Honestly it makes him worse, teasing you about how you cant be whining that its “too much” already, because he knows that you like it when he punctuates his words with more harsh thrust, another tug, another squelch- 

Jiyan 

Oh this sweet man 

When jiyan man handles you it's unintentional and he feels quite bad after 

Even when you tell him that you like when he just manhandles you, he's hesitant. He likes to be gentle, to spare you the harshness of war and death, regardless of your background it's a habit of his to feel the need to shoulder these burdens 

Like i said he doesn't mean to manhandle you- but the comfort of your presence, your embrace, combined with the long periods of time spend on the front lines means he often forgets his strength- eyes snapping to attention when he hears the noise you let out as he pulls you into him- because there is a force behind it, his hands grip you tight and he pulls you

He's honestly such husband material 

He has a habit of almost trapping you against him, be it against counters or simply keeping you pinned in his embrace, jiyan becomes rather touch starved during his time away and tries to soak in as much touch as he can 

He really doesn't realize in the moment how rough he gets, the way he sucks at your neck as he uses his body to pin yours against the wall of his (rarely used) home

Its an effortless move, his knee nudging your legs apart just enough so that he can gather you in his arms to press you further against the wall 

Its times like this that he seems to show off his strength 

The way his every movement doesn't even seem to faze him because to him you truly feel so pliant in his hands, a ragdoll as he slings one of your legs over his hip and allows his hands to hold you as much as he wants 

When he sees the light bruising his fingers left from the grip on your stomach a wave of shame floods him at the realization that he may have gotten slightly carried away pounding into you 

But fret not for there are times the general decides to indulge both you and himself, after much reassurance that you can handle it, that it will be fine he decides to give in and handle you roughly, a look of tender concern still lingers in his eyes but he also cant deny that being able to grope and grab at your soft body flares his instincts and makes him incredibly hard. 

His rut is hard, being so pent up and all but refusing to take leave means he end up become more irritable and aggressive, and when he is finally forced to take leave he loses himself the second you tell him he dosnt have to be gentle with you

Two dicks two dicks two dicks two dic- 

Ok but seriously the first time you had sex with him was,,,something, because imagine if you will, your peacefully making out with him, hes hard as a rock because physical touch is not his forte (hahah im so funny) and when you glance down you gulp because daymn…a warning would be nice there general

Your slightly relieved when he begins to tug down his pants, his first cock springing free- dont get me wrong you were still mourning the loss of your ability to walk but, this was manageable. 

Your jaw absolutely drops when he pushes his pants down further and the second cock springs free- oh …oh no ;) 

Calcharo 

Oh i need him, i need him desperate and panting like a dog tbh

Calcharo is another that forgets his own strength, job after job leaving him not only grumpy but also forgetting that he's strong- strong enough to pull you into his embrace and here the little wheeze you let out

Strong enough to grab and squish your cheeks in his calloused hands while he grinds his hips against you 

He hasn't even taken his clothes off, he’s nasty and sweaty but he's just so desperate to get any part of you

Prying that out of his mouth is impossible tho, he is huffing and panting in your ear before squishing your face for another rough kiss

One thing leads to another and he finally cant take just humping himself against you…grabbing your thighs and pushing them apart while you whine that he should shower first-or that he needs to slow down he's instead nipping at your neck and pushing you further into whatever surface he has you against

He usually isn't so desperate but he's grown used to your touch, used to you, so after being away longer than unusual on a job he is down right ravenous for whatever he can get. 

That isn't to say he doesn't manhandle you at other times, he is rough by nature so its quite often that he finds himself pulling or moving you in a way that could be considered manhandling, but it is just worse when you catch him in a mood where he feels desperate

Getting him to admit that he feels this way is just about impossible but you can tell with the way he kisses you, the way he buries his head in the crook of your neck, the way his hands roam and cant seem to get enough of you 

His brows are knit together in the same aggravated way they always seem to be, but his lips are parted and the way he 

Please i need him so bad 

[mynameisjag]

For @help-i-need-a-cool-username

Sorry it took so long!

MCU Poolverine meets 97' pre-Morpherine?

Scott has a bad day...

“Are they…chittering at each other?”

“Like fucking stressed out cats.”

Sure enough, that was the sound.

“I’m sorry, he usually isn’t so…”

“Feral? Mine is, it’s good for them to let loose once in awhile, keeps the angry muppet faces from happening too often.”

“Yours does it too?,” Morph turned toward their new…friend?...acquaintance?, “so, I’m Morph and the short man doing the impression of a guard dog is Wolverine.”

“Deadpool and the taller man acting like a cat on catnip is my Wolverine! I like how yours is a short King with blue hair.”

“Thank you? Umm, yours is,” currently ripping a car tire off and chucking at his Logan, “destroying Cyclop's car?”

“Yeah, he does that, it makes him feel better.”

The tire went sailing by them as Logan dodged it, rolling out of the way, only to get tackled as soon as he stood up.

“What is going on out here-what happened to my car!?”

Sure enough, Scott was standing at the top of the mansion stairs having just exited, car keys dangling in one hand as he watched the visitor Logan get thrown backwards into it, turn midair to position himself to springboard off the car back towards the other Wolverine. The force of the ricochet pushing the vehicle sideways into the stone fence wall, getting stuck half through it.

“I was gone less then five minutes, I just came back to grab my wallet?!”

“The girls are fighting,” Deadpool ignores the confused look the X-men leader sent his way, and cupped his hands around his covered mouth, “Hey, Peanut, stop playing and come say hi. You’re making us look rude!”, he turned back to Morph, hands now going to his hips, “I’ve swear I’ve taught him manners, though maybe using whiskey as a motivator isn’t the best thing to teach him with.”

Both of the fighting men glanced over at the group, huffing a little before putting back their claws, still giving each other the side eye as they started to walk over.

Scott took a deep breath through his nose, turning toward his team member that wasn’t destroying the yard, “Morph, care to explain.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, the sky opened up and this two fell on top of us and Logan took some real offensive to be squished.”

“Took offensive to them squishing you, you can’t spring back up like I can.”

“Awe, there’s that Wolvie overprotection, a universal trait.”, the red clad hero threw his arm around his partner's shoulders and laying his head against his.

“I will and have thrown you into a mob of gunfire.”, the other Wolverine accepted the touches, even going as far as to look more relaxed.

“Only because you know I like it!”

Morph shared a look with their world’s Logan, the other giving a one shoulder shrug in confusion.

Scott seemed just as confused, “I’m sorry, he throws you into bullets?”

“Worried about little ole me!? Don’t be getting your Superhero panties in a twist, bullets can’t do shit to me, besides I enjoy it. Getting him riled up and being tossed across whole rooms is part of the fun of it.”

“Who are you two? Why are you destroying our stuff?”

“Jeez, Introductions again, fine, I’m Deadpool, again, and this is my Wolverine, again, if it gets too confusing for you to keep up with who is who, well, I like to call him, Peanut, Majesty, Honey Badger, Furiosa, Papi, Mami, Angel Face, Babygirl-“

“If you don’t pick something to call me, he is going to keep going.”

“-my meow meow, homeslice from the deep woods, Jessica-“

“Jessica?”

“Jessica it is!,” the man turned and pressed his covered lips to his partners cheek, giving a dramatic kissing sound, “Muah, the Jessica to my Roger Rabbit, the movie version of course.”

“Jessica”, let out a deep tired sounding sigh, “Just call me James.”

Scott turned toward the destroyed car then back to them, “Jessica.”

The newly dubbed ‘Jessica’ face went from neutral to scowling, Deadpool pinched his cheek, “and there’s the angry muppet face back with full force!”, he caught himself from falling over as he was shrugged off, giggling slightly as he refocused on the three bystanders, “Any who, you and everyone else is probably wondering what the hell is going on, and the truth is-“

“-Dumbass here ass dialed us to the wrong universe.”

Morph watched as Logan seemed to sniff the air, taking a half step toward the other him, who instantly noticed, they themselves ignored the situation that was about to happen and refocused on the man in red, “How do you “ass dial” to the wrong universe?”

“Mostly by failing a split and falling hard on the device in your back pocket, that may or may not be stolen, which takes you, your partner and your kids that were nearby into another universe-oh fuck-we gotta find mini-Wolvie and little Miss Mary.”

“Who?”

“Mine and Jessica’s babygirls! Mini takes right after her Daddy and Mary has my good looks!”

Morph blinked, “You two…together…have kids?”

“The dog is not a our kid!”, the Wolverine’s were circling each other again, more curious then ready to fight again.

“But you agree your mini is both of ours!”

Another slow blink before Morph leaned closer to Deadpool, ignoring Scott heading toward his destroyed car and the other two sniffing each other?, they plastered a big smile on their face, “So kids, partners, cute nicknames, sounds like you two are close.”

“More then just close, but don’t you worry, I’m pretty sure I don’t exist in this world, little off limits apparently, sooo,” the merc pulled the other closer to him, shoulder to shoulder as he directed their attention over to the two Wolverines trying to pull the car out of the fence wall as Scott directed them, “I gotta make sure my boy is taken care of in all worlds, and since I’m not here, that leaves that responsibility to you!”

“Excuse me, why would-“

“-Nope! No excuses with me around, either you get your shit together or I’m going to see if two Logan’s can live together, most likely no, but it will be fun to find out! Like having a full course meal with a little dessert on the side. Someone is going to be overstuffed in the end.”

The car rolled by them sideways, coming to a stop upside, Morph just sighed fondly as Logan waved at them before jumping up on the vehicle, the variant right behind them as they both stared down a fuming Scott, “How can you stay mad at him, look at him, he’s never seen the top of a shelf before.”

“See you get it, I bet you’re his Roger Rabbit too.”

They're side-eye could kill a person, “What does that mean?”

“Simple, you can make him laugh," there was a nonchalant one shoulder shrug, "you've already got a place in his heart with that gesture alone."

“…oh…”

“Look at that face, realization baby, bet his nose scrunches up and he snorts, bet he play fights with you, bet you get drinks together-“

“-please shut up, I’m having a crisis.”

“You’re an X-man…X-person?, whatever, you should be used to crisis, both personal and external by now, so nut up buttercup, we are going to get you your little stinky bear cat."

Deadpool gave them an enthusiastic thumbs up...Morph just sighed in resignation.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In Love and War (8)

Summary: The aftermath of all her family secrets might be more chaotic than Reader bargained for when her powers suddenly start to flare. Good thing her Warlord has more than a few ideas how to help navigate it ;)

Content Warnings: Depressive thoughts, Reader mentions wanting to die; Suggestiveness, Slight SMUT; Canon Typical Violence

Author's Note: To make up for the last chapter being so short, please enjoy that flirty little bastard being a menace! ;)

Chapter 7/Masterlist

---------------

I don’t sleep at all that night. I lay there, Rhysand sleeping soundly beside me, exhausted from the events of the last couple of days. He’d barely kept his eyes open long enough to eat. I’d barely managed to choke down a few bites myself. The guilt has my stomach in a perpetual knot. I’ve dedicated so much of my life to hating this male, only to be wrong about all of it, and now I’m in too deep to even do anything about it.  I can’t go home. There is no home to go back to. My family slaughtered an innocent mother and daughter. Rhys received their heads in boxes like some sort of twisted gift. They were supposed to be allies and my father betrayed them in the worst possible way. He paid for it with his life, with my mother’s life; it should have been the end of it. Tamlin was given a mercy and he should have taken it. He should have abandoned my father’s teachings and become a better lord, a better man. Instead, he perpetuated the cycle of abuse and suffering. He encouraged me to hate these people, to covet everything they had as if they were undeserving of it. All these years I loathed our miserable existence thinking the Mother hated us and was being unjust in giving these people all these things that we were never allowed. But we deserved it! We were the bad guys all along.

I roll over onto my side to look at him. He still sleeps in his armor, knife still strapped to his thigh, sword resting against the tent pole only a foot away. He’s ready to be up and fighting in a moment's notice. Our father’s were so similar, and yet, he turned out to be merciful and kind and somehow, so startlingly gentle that I often forget he’s still capable of intense prowess. He is the only male I’ve ever truly felt comfortable with, because that gentleness came as a response to the violence he’d seen, not because that violence was never there. He’d felt the cold sting of it, and chose to be something gentle instead of returning it.

And here I am, with all that righteous anger that had kept me warm on my coldest days, choosing to return all the violence that had been inflicted on me onto others. Just as Tamlin did. Just as my father did. 

And looking at it I don’t want to be him. He ruined my mother! He took something good and kind and locked it away and used her for his own ends! I don’t even know if he ever really loved her. Why would you keep the things you love in a cage?

I sit up abruptly. Maybe he was as scared of being alone as I am. 

I can’t sit in this tent anymore! I can’t-

Rhysand jolts awake as soon as I move, hand twitching for his knife, shadows swirling off his body in response to what his sleep muddled mind thinks is a threat. “What’s wrong?”

I put a hand on his chest, spinning onto my knees so I can kiss his forehead. “Nothing, I just need to relieve myself.”

He lets me push him down onto the mat, body relaxing and pliant beneath my touch. “You sure?”

“Positive.” If he tried to follow me out now I think I really might explode. My stomach feels like it's ripping itself apart. My bones ache, my skin feels like it's stretched too tight over them. There is too much nervous energy bound inside my body. I just need to get out and stretch my legs; get some fresh air and clear my head. I will be fine if I can clear my head.

“Take your knife,” he says, eyes already drifting shut again. 

I strap it to my thigh as I slip from the tent, gulping down lungfuls of crisp, mountain air as I go. I just need to clear my head. Is finding a way to survive this fucked up world really me acting like my father? I’ve never killed innocent people. I’ve never withheld necessities or lorded my power over people. I’m just not being honest about my intentions. It’s shitty. I’m using a mating bond I’m still not wholly sure is real as a means to getting food and shelter and, hopefully, a decent helping of mind blowing sex.

Cauldron that sounds really, really fucked up.

But how am I supposed to tell him? Hey, I know that you really don’t like my family and they’ve done nothing but screw you over but I also accepted your offer to try and ruin your life and take all of your land and kinda only just changed my mind about it yesterday. And it would be really super cool if you just let that slide because I have nowhere else to go.

That would go over soooooo well. He’d be totally fine with it! 

I ground my palms into my eyes as I walk behind a couple trees to at least make it look like I really did need to go pee. There are men on guard duty, no doubt someone is going to see me wandering around camp.

My brain feels like it’s being squeezed by my skull. There has to be a way to go about this that doesn’t get me tossed out into the coming snow, while also not lying so deeply about it. I do care about him. It was a lie at first but now…

I put my back against the tree and slide down until I’m sitting on the rocky ground, head still in my hands. I don’t know if he’s my mate. There’s something there, I feel it pulling at me, even now, but I can’t give it a name. And I want to be here. Not just because of the story he’d told yesterday. When Lucien tried to get me to leave, I really didn’t want to go back with him. But how am I supposed to live with the truth? How am I supposed to look at him and see that he wants this so much more than I do, despite everything?

Actually, why does he want this, despite everything? He’d asked me why I stayed. I never asked him why he brought me here. There’s certainly enough bad blood between our families to make even a mate hesitate to bring me in.

I lean back against the tree, the rough scrape of the bark against my aching skin a relief. My body feels so strange, being around Rhysand’s magic has made it feel like there’s something beneath my skin.

Tomorrow, in the morning, I will ask him why he still brought me back. Then I will decide what to do. 

------

He certainly doesn’t make asking him easy. Rhys wakes me up with his lips on my throat, along the fading marks he’d left a couple days before,  trailing them down as his hands hike up my sweater. The heat of him against the early morning chill has my resolve slipping, all my plans slipping through my fingers as he runs his tongue over my peaked nipples.

I can’t think past the roaring in my ears; the ache in my body for more, more, more. There is nothing and no one but him as he trails lower, each kiss more forceful than the last as he heads for the waistband of my pants.

“Rhys,” I moan, voice still thick with sleep, even as my body arches under him. I want him everywhere. I need him everywhere. The stirring feeling beneath my skin is worse today, only quelled by the trail of his hands on my body. For once, my racing thoughts are quiet. If only we could stay like this. 

“Hmmm,” he hums into my stomach, just beneath my navel. There’s a bit of stubble along his jaw, the scrape of it against my oversensitive skin makes my eyes roll back into my head. “Did you want something, mate?”

“You,” I groan, hand reaching out to tangle in his hair to try and move him where I need him. 

He grins, I can feel the upturn of his lips against my stomach, but he refuses to budge. Just nips at the skin visible above my waistline. “You have me.”

Bastard! My whole body trembles beneath him. I can’t get a breath down fast enough. I need him everywhere all at once. “Need you inside me,” I bite out.

He simply hums again, hands tugging at my waistband with an inhumane slowness that makes me feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin. I use the hand not in his hair to grip the mat, trying to ground myself, trying to find some semblance of control again. I’m gripping so tight my bones ache, fingers feeling like they’re breaking. There’s a tearing sound, a pricking sensation in my palm and then a gush of something wet across my hand. 

Even he looks up at that, and when I turn to look, I’m more than a little surprised to find that I’ve grown claws, and I’ve just tore them right through my hand!

“Shit!” He’s gone from between my legs in an instant, all the heat in my body leaving with him. 

I can’t unfurl my hand. Can’t retract the claws, they’re stuck through my palm with my fist closed around it. I’ve only ever grown them in anger, how the hell had I done it now?

Rhysand comes back with a towel as I manage to sit up. “I thought you smelled different this morning,” he muses.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I hiss.

“Our magic can be protective. It can hide itself if it doesn’t feel safe. I don’t think you were born with too little, I think you were born with too much.” His fingers massage my wrist, trying to find the right pressure points to help me unclench my fist. “I think that it buried itself inside you to keep you safe. And I think, now that you’re here, it’s manifesting, and like the wards, it has its own scent.”

Fan-fucking-tastic!

“Well I’d like it to un-manifest,” I hiss. “I was doing just fine without it!” There’s blood dripping through the towel, if anything it feels like my claws are burrowing deeper into my palm. I can practically feel them trying to tear right through the back of my hand.

He can’t seem to find the right spot and trying to pry my fingers out of my palm is a no go. He frowns, lifting the towel for a better look. “I’m gonna try something.”

I’m prepared for a blow from his own magic, some form of glittering starlight or shadowy darkness, I am not prepared for him to kiss me again. The sound I make in surprise is somewhere between a growl and a gasp because what the hell is he doing? But even though my head is struggling to catch up, my body is not. On instinct, I lean back to allow him better access, his tongue slipping behind my teeth. The rolling feeling beneath my skin lessens, the tightness in my palm slowly releasing. I thread my functioning hand through his hair as my body gives what I can only describe as a sigh of relief. A moment later, the claws retract and I can finally unfurl my fist.

“Flair ups can be heavily tied to your emotions,” he says, lips barely off mine. “Probably wasn’t the best idea to tease you in the middle of one.” 

It takes him all of thirty seconds to find some rags and tie up my hand, even though the blood flow is already lessening. All I can do is stare at it while he does it. This is certainly a new and unwelcome development to this whole mess.

“Is that going to keep happening?”

Azriel pops his head into our tent, unannounced as usual. “Are you two done in here or what? I, personally, cannot live with Cassian if he beats us around the mountain.”

“We’ll be right there,” Rhysand huffs.

“I’m seeing a trend with him,” I mutter. 

He smirks, “It’s one of Azriel’s many charms.” 

He helps me to my feet, holding onto me like he thinks something else might just burst out of my skin. Truth be told, I can still feel something shifting around, a prowling animal begging to be released from its cage. I’d thought it was my unease this whole time, but maybe it’s worse than that. 

“We don’t know how deep your power well is,” Rhysand says. “And if it’s never fully manifested…” He blows out a breath. “When mine first started manifesting, I shredded a whole section of camp with starlight. There was a whole twenty-four hour period where my shadows blocked out the sun. And you’re my equal so, yes I think that will keep happening.”

Cauldron boil me!

“As long as you remain calm, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“I should think you would know better than to tell a female to be calm, Rhysand.”

He grins, “Well you can also spend the day making out with me, since that seems to be such a lovely little distraction with you.”

I go to hiss an insult at him but the only thing that comes out is an actual, animal-like growl. I clamp a hand over my mouth in embarrassment while he bursts out laughing. 

“This is going to be fun!” He declares.

I am not at all inclined to agree.

----

I only manage to ride with him for an hour or two before the pull of his magic makes my skin start to itch. He was right about magic having a scent. Half way through the hour I suddenly become very aware of the jasmine scent of him. It’s everywhere. In every breath. Every brush of his chest against my back, every movement of his hands along the reins. My body is hyper aware of every place we do and don’t touch.

“Getting all worked up again, aren’t we?” He purrs in my ear.

My jaw feels like it’s snapping as a set of fangs tear through my gums, spurting blood into my mouth. Somehow his magic is the catalyst for my transformation and the balm all in one. I can’t be near him and I can’t be away from him, as I soon learn. When I jump off the horse and declare I’m going to walk beside him, my claws return, in both hands this time. At least they shoot out my nail beds and not my knuckles like Tamlin’s.

The thought of him makes another growl rumble through my chest and something that feels suspiciously like fur sprouts from the back of my neck.

“Wouldn’t recommend,” Rhysand warns.

The itchiness of my skin is even worse on the ground. I feel the wards tugging at me like I’ve been tied to the glittering magic that builds them with a string.  The jasmine and overripe fruit scent of them is enough to make my nose crinkle. Apparently the transformation heightens my senses as well.

“I’m gonna tear off my skin,” I snarl, fidgeting with my collar. Why is it so itchy? Is it supposed to be like this?

He slows his mount to keep pace with me and I do not miss the grumbled complaints of the males behind us. My ears twitch every time one of them speaks, the sound sometimes like a shout and others like a far off echo.

“Breathe,” he says gently. “The more worked up you get, the worse it will be until we can find a way to safely expel it.”

I draw a shaky breath, then another. 

“Good girl.”

A shiver works its way up my spine at that.

“Now come here,” he leans so far out of the saddle he’s only holding on with his thighs, and my first thought is how we can get this little caravan to pause so I can be the one beneath him. He gets an arm around my waist and hauls me back up onto the horse and damn if that’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever seen a male do!

“Let’s get these wards up-” I’m hyper-aware how every word rumbles through his chest, the way his body shifts on the horse. “-And we’ll find a place to camp soon enough, then you and I can work on this.”

“Make it stop,” I gently beg. “I don’t want it!” The itch beneath my skin is becoming unbearable! My claws scratch up my arms, tearing up my sweater. 

His free hand covers mine, intertwining our fingers, even as the horse begins to move. “Focus on me.”

I focus my attention on the way his body molds against mine. The way the leather of his glove slides over the back of my hand. I let my eyes drift shut, focusing on the brush of his chest against mine, the swaying motion of his hips as the horse moves over the rocky terrain. It’s not enough. Not like the feel of his lips on mine had been this morning. As if he knows it, he drops his head against my shoulder, nose brushing over the exposed skin of my throat. 

“I’m right here,” he continues. “Focus on me, just like you did this morning.”

This morning there had been a lot less clothes between us. 

“Breathe for me.”

It is a physical effort to draw a deep enough breath in; another to pull my claws away from my itching skin. He settles our joined hands against my stomach. 

“Again.”

I manage to do what I am told, just barely. 

“Good. Just like that.” His voice makes a shiver run down my spine as my mind spins with all the other things I want him to talk me through. I think I could do just about anything if he explained it to me in that rich, husky voice he was using in my ear. “Part of learning to control it is finding your center. Find a safe mental space to retreat to.”

“Like what?” There are few places in the world I have ever felt safe. Thinking about how I used to sit in the rocking chair with my mother and listen to her stories only fills me with pain now. Or perhaps a couple weeks ago I might have thought about all those summers I spent at the creek with Lucien, but now it only makes the thing beneath my skin rumble and shake like there’s some sort of animal that lives caged beneath my ribs and is trying desperately to break free. What makes me feel safe?

“A good memory, a happy time,” he lists. 

I have nothing. My eyes start to water and my throat starts to close, talons growing longer and sharper at my fingertips. I feel the give of my leather chest-piece beneath them. Everything good in my life has been a lie! Everyone that was supposed to protect me only ever hurt me in the end. None of it was ever real.

And this, this thing that could be something, that could be real, I had ruined it. I have to lie to keep it. I have to pretend that I had every right to hurt him, when it was really the other way around. The only person who had ever told me the truth, who could see me for what I was, and I had ruined any chance of it being real before it had even had the chance to start.

A sob slips out of me and with it, the tree we pass erupts in a flurry of leaves and twisting, screaming bark that makes the horse rear. The earth rumbles, random cracks splitting in the rock face, gnarled vines crawling out of them like tentacled monsters. The itching in my skin won’t stop! The more I try to trap it the more the world around us screams in protest. 

“Breathe, Y/N,” Rhysand orders in my ear. “You have to breathe.”

“I can’t!” I choke out. 

He slides his hand out of mine and brings it up against the side of my temple. It feels like a shadow unfurling from his fingertips, but the brush of it is not against my face, but inside my skull. Darkness clouds my vision from the inside out. It feels as if my brain is being emptied, piece by piece with shadows until there is nothing inside my mind but him. 

“Breathe,” he commands, the voice of a Warlord. “Now.”

I choke on each breath. 

“You are safe, Y/N,” he says, gentler. There is nothing in the world but the two of us in this dark little bubble. Nothing but the press of night chilled jasmine and calming, all consuming night. From somewhere far off, I hear music on the wind, the swell of stringed instruments pulling my attention away from the itch running beneath my skin.

“Why is this happening?” My body feels so impossibly small, yet like it’s being stretched beyond its capacity, my bones trying to tear through the confines of my skin all the same.

“Our powers can very easily get tangled with our emotions,” he explains, the hand on my temple drawing shapes into my skin. Somehow, after looking at the stitches in the tent walls, I know he’s spelling something out in Illyrian, but I’ll never know what. “The last twenty-four hours have been a lot for you, I’m sure.”

There is no room to think about it in this headspace, no twisted memories to plague me, only the music and the faint twinkle of stars for company. I let myself fall into it, let it swallow me and fill me until I feel disconnected from the pulling of my skin.

“I don’t want this power,” I whisper into the darkness.

The darkness caresses me, wraps itself around me as surely as his arm around my waist. “I know, but we don’t get a say in what we’re given, only what we do with it.”

When have I ever truly had a say in anything?

“What if I hurt somebody?” What if I am just as bad as my father in both intentions and power? If I am capable of plotting to ruin someone’s life based on a lie, how much more capable am I of turning these claws on someone else? Maybe power is passed from my mother, but that will never change the fact that I now carry the same weapons that were used to scar me, and Rhys, and probably his mother and sister. 

“You won’t,” he assures. “I’ll be right here to teach you. You can control it.”

He has far more faith in me than he should.

----

Once we’ve stopped for the night and camp is set up, Rhysand takes me by the hand and leads me out into the empty, grassy plains beneath the mountain. The knee-high yellow blades are brittle this time of year, cracking under our boots as we walk until only the smoke from the campfires pinpoints where we left the others. We’re far enough away that I won’t hurt anyone if I lose control again.

Shame flushes my cheeks. I’ve always prided myself on being the calm one of the family; always able to keep my emotions shoved deep down beneath the surface to keep them from getting the better of me. I thought I was good at it. I was wrong. It’s only been the constant brush of Rhysand’s shadows against my mind all afternoon that have kept me from tearing everything I touch to shreds. Even now, my hands ache from often my new claws have sprung and retracted from my fingertips.

I must feel about as awful as Rhysand looks. The circles under his eyes have not lessened in the slightest, and every once in a while I’ll see him start to sway, like it’s an effort to stay on his feet. The scent of his magic has lessened, the night blooming jasmine fading behind the citrus and salty scent of him. He shouldn’t be out here with me, he should be resting, recharging his own magic so he can be prepared for more warding tomorrow. According to Azriel and the scouts’ reports, we should meet up with Cassian and Mor’s group by this time tomorrow and Rhysand will need all his energy to ensure both ends of the wards are fully meshed together. 

We stop once we’re cushioned between two large hills, nothing but the chirp of crickets and the stars to keep us company. The Mountain looms dark and shadowy beneath the small sliver of the moon. 

“This looks like a good place,” he says as he finally releases my hand.

I keep my lower lip between my teeth, hands shaking at my sides. I don’t want to do this! Entertaining the idea that I have powers to train and use is foolish. I don’t need to learn to use them; I need to learn to shove them back down into the darkest parts of me where they can’t hurt anybody. 

“Let’s start with something simple,” he suggests. “Tell me where you feel your power the most.”

My hand comes up to poke between my rib cage, where the stirring and itchy feeling is the most concentrated. “Feels like something is trying to break out of my skin,” I say softly.

“The claws and the fangs could be a beast form,” he muses. “Or it could just be some shape-shifting powers you inherited from your father?”

The mention of that bastard makes the stirring in my chest feel like a tidal wave, raw energy crackling so hard and fast through my veins that I feel it crest out my fingertips. The grass around me withers and dies, the ground beneath it crackling and rumbling with what feels like the early stages of an earthquake. I can’t have powers like my fathers!

There is no shortage of pity in those violet eyes and I press my palms into my eyes with a groan. I can’t do this! It needs to stop! I need to bury it now before it runs away with me; while I still have some control over it. Because if it goes any further than this…

Maybe Tamlin was right to send me away. Maybe he did know about my powers and that was why he got rid of me. I couldn’t hurt anybody if I was alone in the woods.

Rhysands shadows drift along the floor until they can slither up my calves, rubbing affectionately against me in a way that reminds me of a cat. “It’s ok,” he soothes.

Tears stream down my cheeks. “Make it stop!” I beg. “Show me how to bury it again.”

His shadows trail higher, winding over my hips and waist, even as he steps closer, leaving barely a breath between us. “Y/N…” he shakes his head, trying to find the right words and I feel a strange pang beneath the movement in my chest.

“Please,” I whimper. “I’ll do anything! Just make it stop.”

He cups my cheek and I give myself the briefest moment to fall into the warmth of his touch.  “I know it’s scary, and that it hurts, but this is good. It has to be released. You will die if you don’t.”

Then let me. The words freeze on my tongue when a tendril of his power flicks over his shoulder, down his wrist, to brush against my cheek, but that doesn’t stop the spiraling of my thoughts. Let me be free of this pain. Let me go out before I become a monster like my father. Let that awful bastard be right; let me be useless and worthless and incapable of doing anything he could be proud of. 

As if spurred on by my thoughts, the grass around me continues to wither, until there’s a whole circle of dead earth surrounding me. The harder I try to draw it in, the wider the circle becomes. Power sizzle through my nerve endings, a fire that digs itself into my veins and when I curl my hands into fists to try and stop it, I pull weeds through the cracks in the earth, the gnarled, leafy branches reaching up like skeletal hands that wrap around my, and Rhysand’s ankles.

“Focus on that spot,” his free hand taps gently against my ribs. “Focus until it feels like you’re holding it.”

I try to imagine the power like a bowl filled with sloshing, dark liquid. I imagine myself reaching for the lip of the bowl, the cracked edges and rough wood a mirror to the one that used to sit on our kitchen table, full of apples I’d sneak when no one was looking. If I make it familiar, it feels easier to focus on. I imagine every crack in the bowl, every worn edge, focusing until I get a mental hold around the edges. Now all I need to do is tip the bowl over. If I spill out its contents, there will be nothing left inside me to unleash… right?

“Once you can hold it, focus on containing it. Imagine it like a bottle, get all that energy into the bottle, and put a lid on the top,” Rhys says like he can hear my plans.

The liquid inside the bowl bubbles and hisses as my conflicted feelings run circles through my head. He hasn’t been wrong this far, I should do as he says, but I can’t help but feel like indulging this is a mistake. I can hear my father’s voice inside my head, telling me that this is not how females are supposed to behave. 

I can feel the weeds I’d summoned dying around me. Can feel every blade of grass as if it was somehow attached to my skin. The longer I hold that imaginary bowl, the more aware of this power I become, but it doesn’t feel like control. It just feels like more things pulling at me, trying to move me in directions I’ve never decided I want to go in. 

The ground rumbles beneath my boots again as my mental grip slips, and when I open my eyes the weeds, dead as they are now, have slithered all the way up my chest, reaching for my throat like some decrypt hand. 

The air leaves my lungs in a rush and with it, the dead vegetation crumbles and turns to dust on the wind.

Rhysand should be looking at me like I’m a monster. He should be stepping away, shadows swirling, that giant sword in hand. We are supposed to be enemies and he should be looking at me like I am one. But he’s not. He reaches out and brushes some of the ruined plant off my shoulder instead.

“It’s ok,” he assures. “No one gets it on their first try. Not even me.”

That compassion and understanding makes my chest ache worse than any restless power ever has. I don’t deserve it. I wish he would treat me like the horrible creature I am. He would be better off if he tossed me out into the woods like Tam.

He stiffens and I can’t help but wonder if I accidentally said that out loud because his eyes darken as he closes the gap between us and takes my face in his hands. “Maybe I’m taking the wrong approach.” His voice is clipped, husky. 

Good, maybe he can finally see me for what I really am.

I am wholly unprepared for him to crash his lips against mine. My brain short circuits, the agitation I feel morphing into that desperate, needy thing I had felt this morning. Just as I tilt my head back, lips parting to let him in, he pulls back. 

“Let’s play a game.”

The power in my chest feels like it’s going to rip out of my skin again. 

“Match what I do and you’ll get a reward,” he explains. “If you can’t…” He takes a step back and it is an effort not to chase after him, but the message is clear enough: Matching his efforts means his hands, his lips, his body is on me again, fail to do so, and he puts space between us. It shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t make me want to try, but I do. Gods I do! 

“Ok,” my voice shakes a little. In the back of my mind I still think it’s a bad idea. Maybe I will regret it in the end, but this thing between us is the only thing that makes sense. There is nothing between us when his lips are on mine. I need that distraction tonight.

He holds out a hand and a ball of shadows emerge, the tendrils of darkness crawling out from beneath his skin to form the swirling shape. “Find that spot in your chest and push it into your hand. It’s a part of you, it answers to you. Make it answer to you.”

I hold out my hand, matching his position and then close my eyes, reaching for that bowl of darkness again. Hesitantly, I tip it sideways, sloshing some of the dark liquid over the edge and imagine pulling it through my limbs. It makes my muscles spasm, my claws shooting out of my nail beds in defense.

“Breathe through it, you’ll pass out if you hold your breath.” 

Selfishly, I want to impress him. Want to show him I can. I want the reward of his lips on mine again. Want to not have to think about whether I should be doing this or that, the only thought in my head him and how good he feels. I do as he says, drawing in a breath as I keep pushing that bit of darkness in the direction I want it. It makes my head hurt, trying to focus so intently, but I’m nothing if not persistent. 

I feel the rumble of movement beneath my palm, and just when I’m starting to think that maybe I’m more capable than I thought, the tiniest, most wilted looking dandelion grows from my palm. And then immediately turns to ash. It’s the saddest excuse for power I’ve ever seen and I growl out a complaint like a literal beast as even the thing in my chest shows its disappointment.

Rhysand snorts out a laugh too, which makes it worse.

So much for powerful. 

He clears his throat as he steps back into my space. “It was a good attempt.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I hiss. “That was embarrassing.” 

He wraps his hand around my wrist and places his lips against my palm anyway, never mind that my claws are still out and drifting over his temple as he kisses right where my powers flared. “You still tried.”

I shiver at the contact of his plush lips against my skin, his breath warm against my palm. My senses are still incredibly heightened and even that bit of contact makes my skin buzz with excitement. 

He quirks a dark brow as he looks at me from where my hand is still pressed against his lips. “Try again for me?”

I nod, not trusting my voice when he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me. His pupils are blown wide, barely a ring of violet left to see. He keeps his lower lip between his perfect teeth as he watches me with an intensity that makes my thighs clench. 

Just like before, I imagine myself holding that bowl, this time, I draw a breath and tip it over, letting more of that strange darkness spill into the abyss that is my soul. It is strange to see it like this, to have some parts of it so clear and yet the rest of it is shrouded in fathomless depths. There might be anything living within the confines of my skin. I’d never bothered to look until now. 

I push it towards my fingertips, just as before. The same spasm in my muscles returns, a knot forming in my bicep that I do my best to ignore as I keep pushing my power towards my hand. I remind myself to breathe when it flares in my wrist, making my claws retract and pop back out. 

“Just like that,” Rhysand coaxes.

Cauldron his voice makes my insides feel like jelly. 

Crawling vines emerge one by one from beneath my palms, twining around my fingertips like tiny snakes. In the center sprouts another dandelion, a little taller than the last. I manage to hold it for all of five seconds before the knot in my bicep and wrist become too much and the vines and flower die together. My bones ache. How does he do this so easily?

“Better,” Rhysand praises as he places the next kiss on the inside of my wrist, his fingers massaging the knot forming there. 

“Is it supposed to hurt?” I grumble.

“It’s a process,” he murmurs into my skin, lips trailing higher, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “Think of it like building a muscle. The first couple days of using that muscle will hurt. You’ll be sore. But the more you build it, the stronger it becomes, and the less it hurts. Eventually, you’ll be able to perform bigger and bigger feats with less and less discomfort.” 

That sounds exhausting! 

I’m going to have to do this for the rest of my life? The thought sours my mood, once again turning my thoughts away from this lovely little distraction he’s been offering and back into the darkness that’s been threatening to overtake me all afternoon. 

I swear he can hear the thoughts spinning through my head as he suddenly nips at the tender flesh of the inside of my wrist. “You think you can give me one more?”

I have a headache just thinking about doing it again, but he keeps looking at me through those long lashes, the intensity in his gaze making all rational thought fly out the window. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promises, lips trailing higher. He’s so warm and intoxicating, I think he might be capable of making me do anything, as long as his lips remain on my skin.

I focus on that spot, paying extra attention to breathe as I reach for that imaginary bowl a third time. Maybe if I let myself relax, lean a little heavier into the warmth of his touch, and stop trying so hard to hold on so tight, it won't hurt so bad. It has been like fighting a tide all this time; if I relax, go with the wave, will that make it easier?

I imagine that darkness spilling from the bowl like water instead, letting it flow like a river. The path from my chest to my fingertips is kind of like a stream, right? The water bubbling and rushing through me. There must be something to that thought process, because, when I open my eyes, there are more vines twining around my fingers and wrist, but this time, tiny yellow and pink flowers bloom from them. There is nothing dead or angry crawling out from beneath my skin, but something beautiful and alive. My claws retract as the vines spin around my fingers.

I can’t help but grin as I look to Rhys for his approval. “I did it!”

He grins right back, the sight so dazzling I think I might just stand here for hours summoning flower after flower to see it again. “That’s my girl!”

Instinctively, spurred by the excitement rushing through my veins, I stretch up on my toes and place a quick kiss on his lips. “You’re a good teacher,” and I mean it. Whatever this is between us, I am grateful for him, even if this is all we have. “Thank you.”

He slides a hand in my hair and kisses me back. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I don’t know what it is I feel about it. It still feels wrong, or maybe it just feels different. Everything feels different these days, I’d rather not think too long about it. “Feels like I can breathe a little easier.” 

“Good.” He kisses me again. “We’ll practice some more tomorrow.”

I slide my hand into the silky strands of his hair, nails scraping lightly over his scalp as he rests his forehead on mine. I won’t let myself think about tomorrow, or about these new powers. There can only be this moment.

“Just promise me,” he continues, “that you’ll keep trying?”

“I might need some convincing,” I return, clinging to this distraction with every last bit of willpower I possess.

He grins at the challenge. This is the best I can give him today; the closest to the truth I can admit without laying everything bare. 

“I can be very persuasive,” he purrs and the next thing I know I am on my back in what’s left of the grass, the solid weight of him on top of me. “Maybe we should work on some self-defense while we’re at it. That was alarmingly easy.”

“The words every girl wants to hear when she’s beneath a man,” I retort.

“I just want you to be safe, is all,” he says as he kisses the tip of my nose. 

I reach up a hand and brush some of the hair that’s falling over his forehead into his eyes out of the way. He is breathtakingly beautiful under the moonlight. I wish I could paint or sketch, immortalize every glorious sharp edge of him in ink and paper. “I’m with you, how can I not be safe?”

Cauldron boil me, I mean that too.

It’s not until later that night, long after I’d fallen apart on his tongue in that field and then tumbled back into camp, nearly asleep on my feet to nestle down against his warm body that I remembered I’d meant to ask him this morning why he’d still let me in after everything between us. By now I’m too exhausted to care; maybe I’ll find the courage to ask in the morning.

-------------

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[itsnathateasy]

Armin Week | Day 4 | SFW Prompts | Childhood OR Friends to Lovers

word count: 836 warnings: none author’s note: i made myself suffer with this one

@armin-week-2024

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

armin is the type of man i can imagine you to be in love with for a million years

like had you known each other as kids, it’s high likely that you’d hang out, you’d always be so impressed by his knowledge and soft demeanour, you can never resist a sweet friend like armin, the cute boy, never causes trouble, is shy and probably needs to man up a bit but he’s so smart that he knows he has to stand up for himself but he often doesn’t see the point to it, knowing how he’s significantly smaller than the boys that pick on him

growing up, armin is slowly transforming into something else. his body has become more muscular with age and the loads of training he’s been through but that’s not half of the change. armin now not only has an opinion, he also expresses it. you’re doomed if you don’t let him speak up, as he has the greatest comebacks. all his years of studying and learning about the world have paid off, now there’s not one person out there to ever go against him. they can try, but those who picked on him and those that think of him as less than them will probably regret speaking against him or disagreeing with him. if they’ve a point to make, armin listens with respect, but if they’re just being obnoxious, armin is quick to point it out and tolerates zero of their bullshit. armin was growing up to not only be a person you loved with all of your heart, but to a person that you admired and respected to the fullest.

all the while, you’ve become an even closer friend, a companion if you will, watching him, growing with him, learning his deepest thoughts and sharing dreams, aspirations and all of the awkward confessions of the growing up process. but it isn’t until much later that you realise you’ve been pining for him for years and years and you didn’t even know.

armin is good with the ladies now too. sure, he’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but once he starts talking them up, he’s so respectful and brainy that no girl has ever denied him, he’s having them smile back and forth, makes them weak in the knees.

armin however, seems to be oblivious to all these changes. he doesn’t know how his shoulders are now broader or that his once tiny palms that you used to hold on to when running through the streets, are now tough and thick, often calloused by working his odm and weapons.

he also seems to be oblivious to his feelings, as well as yours. so when you once sat down for one of your usual late night talks, he confesses that he doesn’t know why he never truly likes other girls. they may be fun and pretty and he’s attracted to them, but he can never think how the rest of the story goes with them, because it simply doesn’t work out in his head.

“maybe there’s something wrong with me too armin because i keep thinking the same. is it normal to never have been in a relationship in our age?”

“i’m sure it’s normal… it might be uncommon though”.

there’s was a silence between you, a familiar one. you dont need to speak to know the other person is there. “you might be the only person i can see myself with” he utters out of nowhere. “we’ve been friends for so long though, it must be why i always brushed it off. it’s difficult to differentiate between the love i have for you and the love i may have for a future partner”. you were left inspecting his face in the dark, your eyebrows furrowed. the warm light coming from the fire in front of you highlighted the colour of his hair and made his eyes more prominent. when did armin become this handsome???

“what are you saying armin? we should be together because you can’t settle with anyone else?” the hurt in your voice was obvious. you kept looking into his eyes, hoping to catch any glimpse of a lie. armin wasn’t one to lie, especially not for such matters, especially not to you.

lifting the hand that he previously rested on his knee, he placed it on yours softly, his touch was almost weightless. “on the contrary. i’m saying i can’t be with anyone because i’m in love with you. frankly, i think i’ve been for a while”. he’s hand now rubbing and gripping at your knee slightly, eyes boring into yours. whatever doubt you had a few seconds prior had completely vanished. “frankly, i think i have been in love with you for a while too” you said as you placed your palm to touch his own, soft smiles appearing on your faces. armin moved his other hand to sweetly poke your cheek, resulting in you squirming backwards, smiling even wider than before. “let’s do it then” he suggested.

[laismoura-art]

Presenting the Umgadi Girls AU newest addition:

Princess Lisha Liang ❄️

Y'all didn't think I'd make a whole AU staring my girls and wouldn't bring Lisa, did you? My girl has a very special role!😌🩵

I'm changing her name to "Lisha" the Chinese Equivalent of Lisa, cause having an Americanised name here wouldn't make much sense, as she lives in Outworld! But I'll be calling her Lisa throughout the text for simplicity sake.

Now let me tell y'all about her! Starting by her design!

So, after making the A'rá people inspired by our indigenous people here in Brazil, I wanted to try and do something similar to the Cryomancers in Outworld!

So Lisa's outfit takes inspiration mainly from the Lisu people, a Tibeto-Burman ethical group who inhabit the mountainous regions of Myanmar, Southwest China, Thailand and India!

Their clothes are very detailed, filled with patterns, textures, and lots of beads!

I didn't keep the traditional headpiece though, cause Lisa's hair has always been an integral part of her design! (Female Cryomancers have blue hair due to their deeper connection to Cryomancy. Their power manifest earlier than in men and they must be trained from a very young age to prevent accidents! Women must keep themselves schooled to assure total control of their power. Needless say Lisa struggles with it.)

I took some liberties here and there to make the outfit fit Lisa's style! It coincidently ended up looking very similar to Mileena's new Empress skin, which is good cause it means my outfit is also canon accurate!🤭

About her/her people's backstory:

Before talking about Cryomancers, let's learn a bit about the Pyromancers!

There are three types of Pyromancers:

The Hellfire demons.

The Sorceresses of Argus.

The Dragonborns.

Dragonborns are one of the first people in Outworld, who lived before the sun.

Unlike the Edenians, who were gifted their light by Argus, the Dragonborns, could conjure their own light (which means they don't worship Argus or Delia, but their own dragon ancestors)

The Dragonborns may be born with either Pyromancy or Cryomancy, the later being more common (which is why Kuai Liang is a Pyromancer even though he is part of a long lineage of Cryomancers)

Whether you are born Pyromancer or Cryomancer is entirely up to fate. Genetics play no part in it, you can be a Cryomancer born from Pyromancers (Lisa's case, her mother, the Dragonborn Queen Zhi, is a Pyromancer) or a Pyromancer born from Cryomancer parents (Kuai's case)!

This is well-known knowledge among the Dragonborns, but unfortunately for Kuai, much if their knowledge was lost when his family moved to Earthrealm (why did they move is still a mystery) so Kuai grew up extremely insecure about his Pyromancy.

It also didn't help his case that, both male and female Pyromancers struggle to keep their power under control.

Sympathised by his brother's tough situation, Bi-Han often engaged in Kuai's constant self-control exercises, he would also keep himself schooled, even though there was no need for him to do so. This helped Kuai feel he wasn't so lonely <3

Back to the Dragonborns, they live in a tundra forest known as Hùnhé lín (the mixed forest) it has this name because within it there are plenty of warm and green oasis, where most Pyromancers reside. No one know who these oasis exist within the tundra, legends say it was the Dragon deities gift for their Pyromancers!

The Dragonborns heve been living in the Hùnhé lín long before Queen Mimh even considered become queen!

They have harvested and cared from these lands, built their homes and culture around these lands, and yet, they struggle with the expansion of the empires around them trying to occupy their territories or bringing their own conflicts to them!

They used to have a good commercial trade with a group of Edenian merchants, but these merchants were "infected" with Tarkat and had to be replaced. The new group however, were not nearly as co-operative or respectful, which prompted plenty of conflicts.

Meeting Li Mei's Umgadi:

Of course this sort of conflict wasn't supposed to be of Li Mei and her apprentices' concerns, but as soon as Harumi heard of the situation she insisted the Edenians were in the wrong and they had to put a stop to this conflict before it escalated!

The reason Harumi took these matters so personally was because ages ago, the Shirai were almost forced out of their own lands under the accusation of witchcraft (when in reality their attackers' goal was only to take control of their prosperous lands), Cetrion intervene in their behalf, and thus came their eternal gratitude. Preventing illegal occupations is something the Order of Cetrion takes as priority.

Harumi's aid and support to the Dragonborns granted her Lisa's trust and affection.

Now, just to clarify, this little brainstorming also granted my AU a tiny tiny little change:

I absolutely ADORE Lisa and Harumi as a couple! They are my handmade OTP, the ones who started it all, and the idea of exploring their relationship outside the "Sub-Zero meets Scorpion" scenario is just too tempting to let it slide!

Soooo, yeah, bottom line: FrozenBlossom is now Harumi's endgame for this AU! I hope it doesn't become a deal breaker to anyone (which I doubt will be cause y'all have always been supportive gems, and I love y'all for it🩷🩵)!

Meanwhile, Netherrealmer!Hanzo and Scorpion!Kuai will remain a thing, but, you know, just the two of them!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Hey! You made it to the end! Have some close-ups:

Cute Lisha and angry Lisha:

Lisha after being kissed by a cute girl:

Lisha gifting a warm coat to said cute girl (cute girls can't get colds, can they?) + height difference:

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

@mikka-minns @thedragonholder @rasta-bot @madamealtruist @orbitinytheworld @running-with-the-feels y'all want some Cryomancer lore?👀💕