#even MORE than it already has like if that's even possible

[joocomics]

ಬ scaredy cat

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: smut — mdni! wc: 1.9k

contains: friends with benefits trope, sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, overstimulation, hickeys

During the slow boring hours of work the other day you created a list with the pros and cons of possibly dating Yeonjun.

For a while now he’s been throwing you signals about getting serious (more often than not), so you thought it would be a good idea to look at this more thoroughly, and kill some time until your shift is finally over. Aware of the already strong feelings you have for him you grab a pen and start writing…

… funny and reliable

likes to cuddle but not clingy

great sense of fashion

(extremely) good at sex

has a super cool tv …

“Is this why you've been coming over more often these days?” Yeonjun returns into the living room with drinks in hand. After sitting down on the edge of the couch which he transforms into a comfy bed every time you're here, he turns to you with a raised brow. “To watch your disgusting movies on my new TV?”

“My disgusting movies are well written cinematic experiences that you're too big of a scaredy cat to recognize the full worth of.” You explain, crossing arms in front of your chest. “And they're even cooler on your TV, so to answer your question, yes.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes at you, but you can notice there’s a half-smile creeping up on his plump lips as he looks away with amusement.

“Actually,” you say almost through laughter which brings Yeonjun’s attention back to you, “recently I made a list with your good and bad qualities and your new TV made it.”

“That's not a quality.”

Now you’re the one who rolls eyes before glancing back at the screen.

“Just be grateful it's there to fill up space in the pros column.”

“So what are my bad qualities?” Yeonjun asks intrigued just when the main character of the horror film screams hysterically at the sight of yet another body, causing his heart to jump. He flinches at the sudden sound and instantly turns his back to the screen. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, who watches this kind of shit for fun?!”

You watch him scooting over and laugh at his attempts to avoid seeing the screen while doing so as the horrible scene unfolds on the large TV.

He positions next to you and now you're shoulder to shoulder.

“I still haven't gotten to them.”

“Don't waste your time,” he sighs, adjusting against the pillow, “I don't have any.”

“Don't be so sure about that.” You quickly respond, “I had to get back to work and then I forgot.”

“Because I don't have any.” He repeats after tittering. He finally dares to glance at the screen as it seems that the gory scene has passed.

“You get jealous pretty easily.” You state cautiously, wanting to shoot him a discreet look so bad, but you resist.

You also want to add, and pretty obviously, but you keep that detail for yourself as you remember how overprotective he was the other night at the birthday party you were invited to. It resulted into you getting asked the same question over and over again. Your friends were having a hard time believing you’re not dating.

Yeonjun remains silent for a moment as he tilts his head to see you. He leans in, just a little bit, to make your cheeks warm from the sudden closeness; to bring goosebumps across your skin from his mouth being close enough to your ear as he speaks through low voice.

“So it’s a bad thing that I don’t like sharing what’s mine?”

His gaze holds onto yours causing the fireworks into your stomach to ignite even harder. It’s like your heart stops for a second, and your brain as well, making the task to come up with a good answer on time challenging. It’s so obvious at this point that you’re taking too much time; too fumbled by the last word in his sentence. And especially by how much you like its presence there; how you’re already getting used to the sound of it in his voice.

Your lips part, not to speak, but to kiss him instead when another jumpscare makes him wince.

Too busy to hide his face into your chest, he only groans in despair, simultaneously pulling the blanket over your tangled bodies. One airy shit! slips from beneath it. The dramatic spine-chilling soundtrack overpowers the cussing, but you catch it nevertheless.

He sounds as if he's the one being tortured.

“Poor baby,” you tease him by cooing. “Is this too scary for you?”

He murmurs something about you shutting your mouth, but the anguish is making his frustrated words incoherent.

“How much left till the end?”

“Like an hour and a half,” you start running your fingertips through his dark hair as he adjusts even further into your arms. His head finds a comfortable spot onto your chest.

“I’ll just close my eyes for a little while…” his voice is slower than a moment ago, and you hum softly in agreement.

It’s almost like your familiar scent can lull him to sleep despite the scary movie playing in the background. He can feel his muscles loosen up, his mind relaxing with each peaceful breath you take.

Until the noise of a new jumpscare comes to frighten him again.

“I will add this in my cons list by the way.” You cackle.

Yeonjun’s brows furrow, but you can’t see his irritated eyes, because his face is hidden into your neck.

You can feel his warm breath caressing your skin once he speaks up.

“I know what will help me calm down.”

As the words slip lazily one by one from his lips, his hand slides down between your thighs. His fingertips feel the nice fabric of your little cotton shorts that seem too tight around your curves. They keep roaming around, rising your body temperature, until he guides them to your clothed clit, putting just enough pressure on it while his mouth nibbles on the skin of your neck.

“But… I want to finish the movie,” you whine softly before shutting your eyes at the thrill he’s causing you to feel kiss after kiss.

“You keep watching, baby.” His lips detach from your neck and curl up into a sinful smirk.

You centre your head again, watching him pull down your shorts as the screen behind him paints his silhouette in dark blue and purple hues, turning his features even more seductive.

Half of the fuzzy blanket is now almost on the ground as you keep your legs spread open. Yeonjun’s hand rubs in continuous circling motions that he synchronises with your breathing. Focusing entirely on your body helps him completely ignore the on going movie you keep watching with interest. He’s giving his full attention to your little squirming movements, to your rhythmical breathes, and to the erotic sounds that start escaping your mouth more frequently only to mix with the background noise in the room.

There are fresh bruises forming on your neck, but he continues to suck, making himself drool from how much he enjoys doing it. The only time he backs away is when he pushes two fingers inside you for the first time and he gets the urge to taste them, as it often happens when he’s pleasing you.

“Mmm, you always taste so good.” He humms after unwrapping his lips from his fingertips. His mouth has a red tint to it, glistening with moisture. “So fuckin’ wet for me, can you feel it?”

“Fuck, don’t stop—“ The only thing you’re able to say when he slips back into your arousal is to keep going. His fingers curl up perfectly, and aiming for the right spot they start thrusting in a steady pace causing your moans to shake. “Yeah, just like that... yeah—“

Yeonjun buries his face into the crook of your neck while starting to breathe more heavily too.

You keep closing and opening your heavy eyes at the screen where an intense moment is looming, filling the room with an intense instrumental music, but all he can register is the noises you keep losing control over. His hand flexes while increasing its speed in order to push you closer to the desired peak and it swiftly succeeds.

Your attention level drops and your head falls to one side with your eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

“Sounds so pretty,” he comments at your ear as the wet lewd noise keeps erupting with the nonstop slamming of his palm against your slick folds. Just the way you like it. “You’re close, doll.”

His fingers, stuck between your pulsing walls, get squished tighter as the seconds pass by. He keeps up the quick and smooth pacing until your breaking point comes in, forcing it to turn sloppy and rigid.

“Fuck, there you go,” Yeonjun’s chuckle rings out with a husky tone, only adding to the ecstatic effects of your intense climax.

Your whole body squirms as Yeonjun lets his fingers, wet and sticky, rest still on your throbbing clit. The fluids slowly spill out of you, forming a dark spot on the couch as the sensation turns more light and mellow, but he doesn’t mind it.

You’re still regaining your normal breathing when his fingertips start skidding rapidly along your soaked folds. You whimper at the unexpected contact with your clit that’s now extra sensitive, causing intense reactions from your body at even the smallest touch.

As he doesn’t show any signs of slowing down you whine his name, but without being able to utter any other word.

“Give me one more, baby.” He whispers, effortlessly sliding his fingers up and down your slickness in an indescribable way; so fast, so determined to receive more from you. “C’mon, doll.”

You pant uncontrollably under his tireless touch. The dancing of his fingers keep up the same energy, making you clench as they create another burning knot of pleasure in your core. Once it bursts, you’re not able to stay still and Yeonjun tries his best to keep his hand on your puffy lips so he can rub till the second orgasm washes over you.

Your legs tremble when he enters you with the same eager fingers, curious to feel how wet you are. The pool of arousal welcomes him with ease, and he cannot help but start fantasising how good it would feel to have his cock deep inside you right now. He can give it to you, but making you cum multiple times like this is just as exciting.

He notices your eyes are half-closed while gazing down between your thighs.

“Keep watching, sweetheart.” He says softly, but with a slight hint of demand which makes you look up on the instant. “You don’t want to miss anything from the movie, that’s why you’re here, right?”

He glides slowly through your tight walls and you both sense how they keep throbbing against him from lust and sensitivity. You take a deep shaky breath, trying to concentrate on the story line, but it’s so hard when he’s in the middle of building up a new wave of rush while hiding in the crook of your neck. Running his tongue over his own love marks now and then.

You bite your lip at the realisation of how much is still left from the movie that is about to become the reason your brain is going to turn completely numb and your pussy sore by the end of this Halloween night.

But the thing you will always associate it with first, from this day forward, is you officially becoming his.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[broodybuck]

Title: Broken Rules

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, one-night stands, rough sex, plot what plot/porn without plot, no kissing rule

Summary: After you get dumped, you want to stick it to your ex with a no-strings-attached, filthy one-night stand. You find an attractive man sitting at the bar, he should do.

[ao3 link]

That's it, I'm having a one-night stand, you decide. You're adamant about the idea even though it's not typically your vibe. You like connection, you like relationships. But if your boyfriend can break up with you on your seven-month anniversary then you can have a fucking one-night stand.

You see him at the bar. The place is pretty dead since it's a Tuesday night so there are limited options. Still, you would label this guy as out of your league. Too hot for you. He has short brown hair, cheekbones straight out of Hollywood, and a sharp jawline to match. He's dressed in a tight leather jacket and dark jeans.

Normally, you wouldn't go for a guy like this. Because as much as you know your beauty, you're typically labeled in the cute category, the pretty category. But he's gorgeous, model-level.

You stride up to him as confidently as you can manage and claim the seat next to him. He lowers the drink from his mouth slowly, glancing over at you skeptically. He's probably wondering why you chose the barstool right next to him when there are about eight other ones open. To get in those tight pants of yours, you answer him in your mind.

You smile at him, glad you kept on the tight red dress that was meant for dinner with your ex tonight. He notices, his eyes scanning down as subtly as possible. You feel a flash of heat hit your cheeks. The thought of this stranger getting under your dress, having access to every inch of you, makes you feel insane and hot all over. But tonight is different. Tonight, you're having a one-stand stand with a handsome stranger.

You smooth your hand over the sleeve of his jacket. He tracks your movement like a hawk.

"What're you drinking?" you ask sweetly.

"Whiskey," he clears his throat.

He seems more thrown by this than you'd expect. You would have assumed he gets hit on constantly, has one-night stands by the plenty — wherever he cares to.

You signal the bartender over and order two shots. The man beside you keeps eyeing you quizzically. But when the shots arrive, he accepts the one you slide over to him. He downs the shot with you.

You smile, licking your lips as you mask the face you want to make from the bitterness burning your throat. He looks impressed. Good, you think, you're here to impress and get fucked.

"I've had a shitty night," you tell him. "Really looking for a distraction."

Your tone is hinting enough. His eyebrows lift with surprise. He turns his body toward you.

"Another?" he asks and you nod.

You both take another shot, then it feels much easier to ask if he lives nearby. He does and after staring him down, he invites you back.

He keeps a hand hovering over your lower back as you walk to his place. You only stumbled twice so it's really unnecessary but it's a sweet gesture, you suppose. He helps you up the stairs of his stoop by taking your hand. You thank him but remind yourself that tonight is meant to be dirty, quick — meaningless.

Inside his apartment, you decide another rule for tonight.

"No kissing," you tell him.

He looks so confused, it's honestly cute. The way his brows furrow so deeply and his mouth parts open. He looks like a lost puppy, begging to be kissed.

Stop it, you reprimand yourself. He's not cute. He's here to fuck you.

You march forward, grab onto his leather jacket, and yank it backward down his arms. He doesn't stop you, he seems aware of what's about to happen regardless of his prior confusion.

His face dips forward and then stops. He blinks, pressing his mouth tight, and you try to ignore the fact that he almost kissed you. Already. You move onto the belt of his jeans, prying it open along with the fly of his pants.

"Gonna make me do all the work?" you tease.

You yelp when he hooks your legs and instantly lifts you up in one quick motion. You wrap both arms around his neck and ignore your impulse to inhale his mouth hungrily.

He carries you to the bedroom and lays you down carefully on the bed. Your legs remain helpfully spread around his hips. He moves slowly now, more slowly than you'd like, as he glides both hands up your thighs. He pushes the hem of your dress up as he goes. This dress is so damn tight that it moves rigidly but he works it over your hips to reveal the lacy thong you're wearing.

He breathes in heavily, staring down at it. You flush warm again. He's so hot, you want him inside you. And you don't normally think something like that so quickly.

You reach out, instinctually moving to frame his face and drag him down into a kiss, but you stop yourself just in time. You still pull his face down but instead, move his mouth in between your thighs.

You hear him breathe sharply once more. Then he dives forward so quickly that you gasp when he tears the thin material of your thong with one hand. His mouth, his tongue, is on you the next moment. You suck in a moan, your thighs unintentionally squeezing together, but he holds them apart with his hands as his tongue flicks over your clit repeatedly. Next, he kisses it, mouths around your most sensitive area, and then sucks.

"Ooh god, yes," you cry, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

This was a damn good idea, you think, as you cry out again when he adds his thumb. Switching between his mouth and fingertip.

"Fuck, please," you pant.

He cruelly stops right then and sits back. The sight of his mouth glistening with your wetness makes you shiver. He reaches into his boxers and pulls himself out. He barely gives you a chance to get a good look before he's pushing inside of you.

His face hovers above yours as he bottoms out. He stares down at you, and you want to kiss him, but you need to stick to your dumb rule. This night means nothing, this night is only a fuck you to your ex.

He swallows, then his mouth stays open in a pout as he thrusts into you again. Your eyes squeeze shut, you grab onto him tightly.

Each thrust gains strength but he fucks you slowly. Ramming into you harder each time and stilling when he's buried inside of you as if for you to savor it. He's big which means each slam of his hips jolts you back on the bed and you feel yourself stretching to fit him each time.

His hands find your breasts now, cupping them in his hands, and his breath shakes. You find yourself amazed that he seems so taken with you. You're not sure your ex-boyfriend ever looked at you this way. Like you're an art piece he has to study, memorize.

He presses into you again. But this time when he draws back, he gives up the slow, hard pace and fucks you faster, steadily. It instantly makes your skin blaze, you pulse around him, your body hungry for him.

He groans, feeling it. He falls forward so close to your face, but his eyes snap shut. You hold him by the jaw, craving to close the space, but you refuse. He pushes forward and fucks you harder.

"Fuck, right there," you squeal.

He keeps himself there, fucking you right where you want it until you're too close.

"Yes—more—please," you whimper.

He grunts in your ear and doesn't stop. He grabs hold of your thighs, pushing your legs up, still plowing into you.

Then, you're coming so fast you can't think straight. It's never usually so abrupt, so intense. But you're levitating up, clambering to hold onto him as your body jolts and shakes with the shock of your orgasm flooding through you.

"God, god, ahhhhgn," you yell right in his ear but it doesn't phase him, he's still fucking you like his life depends on it, like you'll die if he doesn't prolong this orgasm for as long as humanly possible.

And it's so much. Waves of pleasure won't stop washing over you that when he plunges into you and groans brokenly, you're actually relieved that he's coming.

You're holding onto him so tightly, he doesn't pull out of you for a long time. He lies with you, breathing into your neck, warming your skin as you try to recover from your high.

And fuck, how was that so much better than the last seven months with your ex? Why haven't you been having more one-night stands, you wonder.

Finally, he sits up and looks at you.

"I'm Bucky, by the way," he smiles crookedly.

It's adorable, goddammit.

"I'm y/n."

"Don't hate me," he says and you're about to question what he means when he leans down and kisses you.

You don't hate him, far from it. You grab his face and devour his mouth, his tongue. You're desperate for it. You never thought you'd miss kissing so much. What a dumb, dumb rule.

You whine when he pulls back, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

"That was torture," he huffs, "not kissing you."

You swallow thickly. "I didn't want tonight to mean anything."

He makes that endearingly confused face again but this time, it's mixed with discontent.

"My boyfriend just broke up with me," you explain quickly. "I was mad."

He slowly pulls out of you and backs away from you. You want to pull him back, not let him leave. He rolls next to you on the bed and lets out a long sigh.

"It's not you, that was… more amazing than it should've been," you confess.

He looks over at you and blinks, his face softening.

"Forget that guy," he says and rolls onto his side to caress the side of your face. "I'll make you forget about him... if you let me."

The offer is more tempting than it should be. This wasn't supposed to go anywhere. When you first saw him in the bar, you didn't even think he'd be interested.

"As long as I can kiss you," he adds.

You laugh unexpectedly because it sounds so ridiculous that this incredibly hot, well-endowed man not only wants to fuck you again but needs to be allowed to kiss you. And you want it all too. So much you need to laugh at how wrong... or right this night has gone.

You dive forward and kiss him. Through the elated breath he inhales, he sounds pleased and kisses you more deeply.

"Sorry for my dumb rule," you break to say. "Kiss me all night."

Bucky smiles and happily pulls you right back to his lips.

[azsazz]

Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

_________________________________________

“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT Rulebreakers!

It has come to my attention that MonoTV seems to be lacking in its responsibilities as a killing game host, in particular regarding the punishment of vile, despicable rulebreakers. Apparently, it’s willing to let breaches of rules go if they’re, quote, “funny.” This is unacceptable.

So, since I was rewatching DRDT for other purposes anyways, I decided to make a list of every participant who’s broken a rule so far. You’d be surprised at how many there are, given there are only three rules they can break. “No violence against MonoTV”, “no sleeping outside the dorms during nighttime,” and “no significant property damage outside of murder.” And yet, all of them have been broken at least once. Here are all the instances of this happening.

Rule Number 5: “Nighttime” is from 10 pm to 8 am. During nighttime, sleeping outside of the dorms is prohibited.

Rulebreaker: Rose

To the surprise of no one, I imagine. If I’d given you three guesses as to who broke this one, your guesses should have been “Rose, Rose and Rose a third time.” Indeed, Ms Lacroix takes the dubious honor of being the first person to break a rule after the students were given their monopads. As in, she literally breaks the rule in the scene the rules are handed out, in CH1 EP2. Right after the nighttime announcement, she falls asleep while standing. For shame.

Thin Ice: Ace

(Ignore the numbers)

I mean. Top right does say nighttime, and he is in fact sleeping. I feel like we could forgive him for this one given the situation, but I suppose it’s up to the jury.

Rule Number 6: Violence towards MonoTV is prohibited.

Rulebreakers: Levi, Arei

Levi is the only person who actually got punished for breaking a rule, and that’s especially funny considering he is the only one who did it before the rules were actually presented to the students lol.

Arei, meanwhile, has no excuse. While strangling a robot that doesn’t require air to breathe is a generally unadvisable as a genuine method of inflicting harm, it’s still very much violence against MonoTV. I actually can see no reason why she wouldn’t be punished for this. I guess she must be the mastermind! /j

Thin Ice: Nico, Charles, J

Nico holding MonoTV by the tail wasn’t an inherently violent act, but it still could cause harm.

Charles, in a twist of fate, got jumped by MonoTV, which isn’t a violation in itself. However, if he fought back at all… it’s curtains. Unconfirmed, but possible violation, hence he’s on thin ice.

Finally, J didn’t actually attack MonoTV in a way that matters, but she basically attempted to murder it with her remote. Watch it, young lady.

Rule Number 7: Significant property damage is prohibited. This rule may be waived in the case of committing a murder.

Rulebreakers: Teruko, Xander, Whit

Teruko: Could anyone use this to commit a murder? The materials these things are made out of are really cheap. This hammer is plastic. Oops. I already broke it...

Whit: Jeez, you trip and faceplant into the wall once and [Charles] will never let you forget it.

Whit is the latest student to be confirmed a vile rulebreaker, and as you might expect, the reason this post exists. He admitted to face-planting on the computer lab wall, and MonoTV admitted it only let it slide because it was funny. This implies the rule was broken, meaning even small things like that count as “significant” property damage.

And with that, we can confirm Xander as a rulebreaker too. No surprise, he’s the Ultimate Rebel for a reason. He actually has multiple counts of breaking this rule, with the elevator doors, but the most straightforward case is the table he broke while arm-wrestling Ace.

Finally, we have Teruko, who has broken this rule in more situations than just one. I chose her breaking the plastic hammer provided to everyone (CH1 EP1) because it’s the most straightforward, but there’s also the icing gun which breaks in her hands when baking cake in CH1, possibly a plate later in the same scene, and probably more. See, this is why Xander was in the righ-

Thin Ice: Ace's Attacker/Nico

(Aka whoever actually broke the fan)

(I could get images without numbers. I'm not going to)

This one's an interesting grey area. The property damage rule can be waived "in the case of committing a murder," but what about attempted murder? Since the murder wasn't successful, should the person who broke the fan be punished for it? Up to interpretation.

———

And that’s as far as it goes (unless I missed something which I most likely did). So, while Ace, J, Charles, Nico, and maybe the Ace attacker (if they’re not just Nico) are all on thin ice, Rose, Levi, Arei, Teruko, Xander, and Whit, are all rulebreakers! And are hereby BANNED from the DAYCA-

Wrong fandom sorry.

These six are all rulebreakers, and are thus liable for execution and/or mastermind allegations. Do with this information what you will.

[dragonsholygrail]

Could I ask more of Vampjre BF x fem!reader. Pleaseee

Of course!! I’ve been wanting to write more vamps. I can’t wait for Halloween!! This is best friends to bf, hope that’s okay!

When you had suggested getting buzzed with your vampire best friend after he told you he got laid off from his job at The Red Cross it was totally innocent! Did it turn you on whenever he drank from you? Yes. Did you enjoy his blood over sampling over vampires? Yes. But you had no ulterior motive whatsoever.

If something was finally gonna happen between you two then it would! Lower inhibitions or not.

But while you quickly get buzzed off of his blood, he’s taken the same amount and seems completely fine. It has you going from giggling one minute to pouting at the next. You lean in closer to him and his eyes gleam dangerously.

“How are you not affected by my blood?”

Your vampire friend laughs, his raspy voice turning you on even more. He looks up and down your plump form, a claw coming out to trail along the column of your throat.

“I am more affected than you know, precious. But it takes a fresher blood to get a vampire drunk than a human.”

His finger on your neck sends a shiver down your spine yet you manage to hold in your moan. You know what he means yet you still ask anyway.

“What could be fresher than the wrist?”

“The closer it is to the heartbeat the stronger it is,” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already leaning in.

It takes nothing more for you to bare your neck to him. Wanting his fangs back into you. His eyes flash at your submission and he pounces on you. Taking you down onto the sofa and sliding between your thick thighs. You gasp as his fangs sink into your flesh.

A warm buzzing heat courses through your body. He releases you a moment later with a content sigh and blood on his lips. He grins down at you and your hips twitch in response. Your need rising.

“While you taste as marvelous as always, my love, that’s not the heartbeat I mean,” he rasps before his hand reaches down and cups your pulsing cunt.

You two stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment, your breath shaky, before you can no longer take it. “Please,” you beg.

His hands are all over you like he’s been waiting an eternity to finally have you in his embrace. Your clothes are off but his fangs quickly cover you full of his sharp bites, making a path down your body and to your drenched core.

“I’ve waited so long to take you as mine. And you are mine, aren’t you, beautiful?” He asks as he grabs handfuls of your plush thighs and spreads you further.

Before you can even answer his mouth on you, lapping up your fat cunt like he’s been lost in the dessert and only now found water. You cry out, writhing on his tongue as pleasure bursts through you.

“Y-yes, yes, god yes!” You shout, hands weaving into his hair so you can grind against his face.

Your vampire best friend turned… possible boyfriend growls, eagerly encouraging being suffocated by your warm pussy. If he could be suffocated that is.

He ravages you without mercy. His tongue swiping along your slit and igniting your every nerve before dipping into your fluttering core and tasting you directly from the source. He can’t seem to stop, not even as you squirm and shake. He merely holds onto you tighter, keeping your delicious body firmly against his face. Growing more and more drunk off your sweet taste.

The minute he starts sucking on your clit as though he’s trying to suck you dry, you explode all over his face, soaking it with your release. He immediately sinks his fangs into you and you scream, your orgasm doubling over tenfold and your vision flashing white.

You’re panting heavily as your release moves through you and you blink rapidly to try and regain your sight and come down from such a high. Your vampire bf starts to move up your body and you look down at him, noticing a wet spot staining the couch. Your pussy clenches around nothing as you realize he’d cum just from your taste.

He nuzzles into your neck but instead of trying to sneak another taste, he simply soaks up your warmth. While you use his cold skin to help you cool down. The two of you balancing each other out as you always have. Now doing so no longer as friends but as lovers. Both of you ending up getting exactly what you wanted out of this little hangout.

[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

[kiame-sama]

Monster!Yan!Rollo: These disgusting monsters and their magic… They must all be purged!

Human!Darling *Exists*

Monster!Yan!Rollo: Am I seeing an Angel? Have I finally been blessed after all my suffering?

I feel like Rollo would not only be obsessed with Darling but would be pleased with the idea to breed with her to create ‘Pure’ offspring (He might even call her an ‘Angel’) though, he’ll no doubt call Malleus a ‘Devil’ for ‘tempting’ her with his magic (He feels utter disgust seeing such ‘unholy’ beings *Monsters* touch Darling)

Rollo will be absolutely obsessed the moment he realizes that there is a Human in a world of monsters. Not only will he see this fragile Human as an Angel, he will endeavor to win over his Angel by any means possible. A true follower of the example the Righteous Judge set forth, he sees Humanity and Humans as the best example of all living things.

In Rollo's mind, it doesn't matter who or what he needs to destroy in order to have his beloved by his side, it is worth it. Every little touch he is witness to- from anyone other than himself or Grim (as Grim is the only one he will canonically use dual magic with)- he will be adding their name to an ever growing list of those he needs to purge from the world. Malleus is already on his Most Hated list but will be written in several more times if he so much as looks at Rollo's beloved.

Any time Rollo enters his engulfed Inferno Nymph form the fires he creates will scorch everyone except for his darling. He would be inconsolable if he ever wound up accidentally harming his beloved and would even perform self-flagellation as a way to repent for his actions.

(Adult themes under the Cut)

When it comes to how desperate he is to breed this soft little Human, it is almost painful with how much he wants this little Human to be his. An absolute Zealot who worships the ground his darling walks upon. He hates himself for his overly sinful thoughts but also can't help feeling such an undeniable attraction and desire to taste and hold his darling however possible.

He will take any kindness from his beloved as a sign of affection and will devote himself to the cause of enchanting and enticing his darling into his bed. He can worry about the specifics later, he just needs something to tide himself over- be it unmentionables pilfered from his beloved's room, locks of hair, clothing his darling has worn, ect- and he is willing to go to extreme lengths to get these items.

[thatfrailsoul]

– The chosen path

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

"Manuela", Conrad Kiesel

This word is so vast... There are so many possibilities, so many different stories, so many journeys that we can go through and that can shape our life, who we are... So many of them, and all depend on just our choice. A choice that is not at all easy to make. Not so easy to be sure of, even if we already made the first steps.

This reading focuses on the path that you already chose, that you did already start. It focuses on letting you know if it was indeed the right one or if there is still time to make steps back. If there is something regarding it to know and to keep in mind. (And a reading focused on helping you to choose the right path and journey for you, will be posted in a few days from now.♡)

Slow down for a moment. Take a deep breath, give yourself a needed moment of reflection and rest. Wander through the details of this painting... Which one attracts more your gaze? To which part of the painting it belongs to? Pay attention - it is showing you where your message hides and awaits.

– Pile One,

the two of swords, the ten of cups, the page of coins

It took a great deal of courage, didn't it? To make this choice, this uncertain step on a journey that you know so little about. It took all your strength to trust it, to trust others and their reassurance that it is alright, that you will be fine...

It is not at all something that you so often or easily do. Relying on others. Following their opinions or choice... But you were, you are still, so confused and new to this. To this phase of your life that no-one really prepared you for.

You didn't knew anything better. You weren't able to find or choose something different from what those by your side suggested you to pick... And now you just wander if it really will be so easy and right as they said. If, in the first place, their words and convictions were honest, and not just a brutal joke...

While still being so close to the very beginning of this journey, you can't help but look back and all around. Exactly like you did before, in hopes of finding the right one. But now you do it with more fear, even more anxiety than before. Hoping and at the same time fearing to see a sign, a warning, that will tell you that you indeed made a mistake...

But even though it seems so strange, so different from their usual intentions... Those that showed you this journey really did it with a genuine and honest heart. In a rare moment of openness and compassion, they saw in you that version of them that once feared the same. That was so confused and uncertain in the same way. They saw your struggles and worries that resembled so much theirs. And they saw, being someone external, those little hints and details about you and the right journey for you, that you couldn't see on your own, too pressured by the weight of a such important choice.

For once there wasn't any irony, any malice, any bad intention. For once it was just a genuine and heartfelt advice, the needed help, that they once desired so much to receive as well. It was just confidence that it can really work for you, it can really be right for you, for the way you are.

And it can. It truly can be the right path. No matter if you will decide to experience it up until the very end, or just for a period of your life. It has indeed something in store for you. An experience that is worth to be lived, lessons worth to be learned.

It can and will work out if only you go easier on yourself. If only you take your time. If only you do it one step at a time.

It is normal to feel anxious, to feel that pressure of the future that seems so influenced by this choice... But even that future can always change. It is not so scary and settled at all.

You will always be able to change things, to discover and understand more about the life that you want. But now... You already made this choice. You are here. At the very beginning, with so many different ways to live it and to go through it.

So focus your attention for a moment here, commit to this decision, and give it and yourself a chance. For it to help you make progress and create your own experience and life. And for you to enjoy it as you grow.

It was just the first step. Everything is still fine. Everything is still possible. You can still make things work for you on this path. If you so desire.

P.s. And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

– Pile Two,

the star, the three of wands, the knight of coins

It all just feels so fast. So overwhelmingly fast in the way this one step, this one choice, caused so many things to shift in your life. New emotions, new worries, new routines and challenges ahead... All just because you really did thought that it was the right path for you, you were so confident about your choice...

And you were right, actually. You were right in your thoughts that analysed so much all the possibilities and options. You were right in your intuition and inner voice that said that you can do it, that it is the one. You were and are right. The same way this path is still safe for you, even if it seems so chaotic and challenging right now.

It is just the beginning. But not in a fatal, dooming way. It is not just the beginning of these difficulties, problems and thousand of questions without answers that will follow you till the end of your life...

It is just the beginning of this journey. A journey that, no matter how much information you gained or how many opinions you heard, it is still something that is new to you. Completely. Even if you planned it for so long. Even if it's not the first time you make this decision, choose this person, this career or so on. It is still different and new, it will be every single time. And at every first step it will be normal to have so many things to handle and to take care of. So many emotions and thoughts to process before being able to feel confident and calm.

Everything is alright. You didn't make any mistake. You didn't choose any fatal situation or journey. You are fine. This path is fine. It is safe. It is right. Just slow down and breathe. You need a moment, just one, before rushing in.

Let go for a moment of all the things you learned and prepared for this journey. Even if it took you so long to do it... You don't need it now. At least not all of them at once.

You don't need to comprehend everything now. To have the perfect understanding and plan for every question and situation. You don't need to find answers right here and now before making another step... You can just do it. And find it a little later, on your way, perhaps in someone that will be by your side.

You are not alone, whatever this journey might be. There will always be someone that will walk close to you, that will face the same things, and that will be open to take care of them together.

But you are trying to solve it and prepare everything all on your own. Even if no one asked you to, even if there isn't any need at all.

Just slow down. Observe. Allow yourself to truly feel this new beginning. Reflect on the things you are seeing, on what you are experiencing, not on what you could've or should've know.

Spend a moment to focus on yourself as you walk through it, not on the journey as you try to rush it and escape. Take your time, breathe in and breathe out. And remember the you that felt so confident and sure about your capabilities to handle this. Because they were right.

P.s. And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

_

– Pile Three,

the moon, the two of coins, the one of coins

You worked so hard to create new possibilities, new chances in your life... Perhaps even too much. Focusing your all, your intentions and your dreams, all on the possibility to shift for the better this life that simply didn't fit you anymore...

You gave so much of yourself, in this profound hope that things will become better... But it took so long to happen... That you simply didn't have any choice but to settle, but to go for something that wasn't at all what you wanted, but that was already here, offering some sort of reassurance and safety in the days you most needed it.

You went in a different direction from what you pictured. You got through it all. The frustration, the desperation, the anger, the uncertainty and doubt, the acceptance...

But none of them were as painful as the regret you felt once that opportunity did come into your life, exactly when you already made peace with a different reality, and started to appreciate it the way it is, the ups and downs, making progress and learning to find something good even in this...

Nothing created more conflict and disruption as the decision and choice that you never really asked: the one between the journey you never wanted but accepted and started to get used to, learning how to navigate it and even being proud of the progress you made..; and the one that you for so long dreamed of, so much sacrificed for, but never received, at least not when you wanted it and asked for it.

You weren't prepared for it, you didn't see it coming.. and now you just don't know even how to feel about it. What to do. If it's the moment to say goodbye to that dream, or if to sacrifice for it the hard work of a different journey that you did.

So you are taking time. Making steps both here and there, trying to handle everything, not wanting to choose between one thing or another. Not wanting to feel again so vulnerable and afraid of what comes next.

You are silently working on it, consuming yourself as your mind that first was supposed to choose between them... Is so dangerously starting to consider to keep it going this way. Holding onto both choices, putting on the line your own health just to not risk to ruin and lose both paths again...

But it will happen, inevitably, if you will keep pushing yourself through the days that are simply too filled with all these things. You will lose both of them, sooner or later, simply because you are one, you can take care and experience just so much. You can't do everything and be everywhere. No matter how much you desire it.

You will lose both of them by simply losing yourself. Because it is a dangerous game. It is a too heavy of a sacrifice that you are asking from yourself.

You deserve, you need, to be able to experience one life, enjoy it, love it, feel it. Not only the stress and anxiety that comes from trying to balance two opposite paths.

Step back. Do for yourself this favorur. Stay still for just a moment. And be honest with yourself, with what your heart wants from this life.

Because it is not a matter of the progress you did, of the possibilities or challenges. It has nothing to do with the time you spent doing one thing or desiring the other. You can grow that experience, that progress and passion in yourself... you can start and try, and achieve your goals whenever you want.

But what you can't do is to consume your own self, forcing you to play two games, just for the sake of not losing once.

Choose your story, choose your life. And let go of the other that you know deep down never was yours, never spoke to your heart. You won't lose anything. You will only gain more honesty with yourself and more peace of mind. The safety and stability that you deserve but that you are sacrificing because of the fear of admitting what you feel now.

P.s. And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

[sexsylexi]

Can I request a Jason Todd x reader where the reader has a health scare

Of course, I'm not exactly sure if this is what you wanted but i did my best! 💗

Through the darkest hours.

Jason Todd x Reader

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You had just gone in for a regular check-up, a routine visit to make sure everything was fine. It had been a while since you had seen a doctor, and you figured it was time to make sure everything was still in order. After all, you didn’t feel bad, not exactly. Just a little more tired lately, a bit more sluggish than usual, but nothing that couldn’t be blamed on stress or a long week.

But then the doctor’s face grew serious. The casual conversation you had been having shifted into something else, something tense. He asked you to wait a moment, left the room to consult with a colleague, and that’s when the fear set in. Something was wrong.

You sat on the cold examination table, the paper crinkling beneath you as your mind began to spin. What if it was something serious? What if…what if this was something that couldn’t be fixed?

By the time the doctor returned, your hands were clammy and your heart raced. He explained that they needed to run some additional tests, and while he tried to assure you it could be nothing, the words lingered in your head: could be nothing. Which meant it could be something.

You managed to keep it together long enough to leave the doctor’s office, to walk to your car and sit behind the wheel and drive home, your hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly. The fear had grown inside of you, threatening to spill over, and you didn’t know who to call..

Jason. Of course, Jason.

Your hand shook as you grabbed your phone and dialed his number, pressing it to your ear as it rang. Each second that passed without him picking up felt like an eternity. Finally, on the third ring, his familiar voice came through the speaker, gruff but warm.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Jason… I’m scared.”

The line was silent for a beat, and then his voice was filled with concern. “What happened? Where are you?”

“I—I’ve been to the doctor’s. They found something, and they need to do more tests, but I don’t know what it means. Jason, I don’t know what’s happening.Im outside our apartment. ”

You heard him shift on the other end of the line, like he was already getting ready to move. “Okay, okay. Stay right there. I’m coming to you. Just breathe, alright? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Relief flooded through you at the sound of his calm, commanding voice. Jason always had a way of making you feel safe, like no matter what happened, he’d be able to handle it. You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Okay. I’ll wait.”

After you hung up, you sat there in the car, staring out the window but not really seeing anything. Your mind kept racing with possibilities, with worst-case scenarios that you couldn’t quite shake. But you held onto Jason’s words, repeating them in your head like a mantra: Breathe. I’ll be there soon.

True to his word, it didn’t take long for Jason to arrive. You saw him through the windshield as he parked his bike next to your car, his leather jacket catching in the sunlight. He was already looking around, scanning the area for you, and when his eyes landed on you, you saw the tension in his face relax just a little.

He opened your car door and crouched down beside you, his hand immediately reaching for yours. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady. “I’m here.”

The moment you saw him, the tears you had been holding back broke free. You reached out, gripping his hand like a lifeline as you sobbed. “Jason, I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

He pulled you into his arms without hesitation, holding you close as you cried into his chest. He didn’t say anything at first, just let you cry, his strong arms wrapped around you protectively. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat under your cheek, and somehow, that grounded you. Jason was here. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.

After a while, when your sobs had subsided into quiet sniffles, Jason pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “We don’t know what’s going on yet. It could be nothing, okay? I need you to trust that whatever happens, we’re going to deal with it. Together.”

You nodded, your chest still tight but feeling a little more steady with him here. “But what if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’” he interrupted, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you pause. “Not until we know what’s going on. You don’t have to do this alone. I’m with you. Always.”

His words, simple as they were, settled something inside of you. You took a deep breath, leaning into his touch as you nodded again. “Okay.”

Jason smiled, a small but reassuring grin that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. “Come on,” he said, standing up and offering his hand to help you out of the car. “Let’s go home.”

---

The days that followed were filled with a strange kind of limbo. You were waiting for the results of the tests, waiting for some kind of answer, but all you had was silence and uncertainty. And in that silence, the fear grew.

Jason could see it. He wasn’t the type to hover, but every time you saw him out of the corner of your eye, he was watching you, concern etched into his face. He didn’t push you to talk about it, but he made sure you knew he was there.

He did little things, too. Things that might have gone unnoticed if you weren’t paying attention. He cooked dinner more often, even though you both knew his culinary skills were limited. He’d pick up your favorite snacks on his way home, or slip an extra blanket over you when you fell asleep on the couch. He even spent more time at home than usual, even though you knew he was itching to be out on patrol. But Jason didn’t say anything about it, and you didn’t either.

One night, as you were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling while Jason scrolled through his phone next to you, the weight of it all started to feel unbearable. The tests were supposed to come back soon, and the anxiety was eating away at you. You couldn’t pretend everything was normal anymore.

“Jason,” you whispered, not sure if you wanted to bring it up but knowing you couldn’t keep it in any longer.

He immediately set his phone down, turning toward you with full attention. “What’s up?”

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice so small you barely recognized it as your own.

Jason sighed softly, reaching over to take your hand in his. “I know,” he said. “I know you are.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do if… if something’s really wrong.”

He was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. “You don’t have to figure that out right now,” he said eventually. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. But worrying about it before we even know… that’s only going to drive you crazy.”

You let out a shaky breath, blinking back the tears that were already forming. “I can’t help it. It’s like this… this thing in my chest that won’t go away.”

Jason shifted closer, pulling you against his chest. “Then let me take some of that weight,” he murmured into your hair. “You don’t have to carry it all by yourself. You’ve got me, remember?”

His words, so simple but so full of love, made you feel like you weren’t drowning anymore. You buried your face into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, the leather and gunpowder that always seemed to cling to him. It was comforting in its own way, a reminder that he was real, that he was here with you.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Jason said softly, his fingers running through your hair. “And even if—even if—it was something serious, we’d fight it. Together.”

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in his warmth, letting his steady heartbeat calm the storm inside of you. It was easy to forget, sometimes, just how much Jason understood about fear, about fighting battles you didn’t know if you could win. But he always fought anyway. And with him by your side, maybe you could too.

---

A few days later, the phone call came. You were sitting on the couch, your leg bouncing anxiously as Jason flipped through the channels on the TV. You weren’t even watching, your mind too preoccupied with waiting for the phone to ring.

When it finally did, you almost jumped out of your skin. Jason’s eyes were on you immediately, watching as you picked up the phone with trembling hands.

“Hello?”

You held your breath as the voice on the other end spoke, and with every word, the tension in your body began to ease. It wasn’t serious. The tests had come back clear. It had been nothing more than a scare.

You hung up the phone, staring at it for a moment as the relief washed over you like a tidal wave.

Jason was still watching you, his brow furrowed. “Well?”

A smile broke across your face, your chest feeling lighter than it had inweeks. "It’s okay," you whispered at first, almost as if you couldn’t believe it. "I’m okay, Jason. It was just a scare."

For a moment, Jason stared at you, his face unreadable. Then, all at once, the tension in his shoulders seemed to dissolve. He let out a deep breath, one that he must have been holding ever since this whole nightmare began. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours as you both sat there, feeling the weight of the relief that had finally come.

"Thank god," Jason murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled you into his arms again, holding you as tightly as he had that day in the car when everything had first spiraled out of control. But this time, his grip wasn’t one of fear—it was one of gratitude, relief, and an overwhelming sense of love.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You sat in Jason’s arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing. It was over. The worry, the uncertainty—it was all over, and you hadn’t even realized how much it had been weighing you down until now.

After a long while, Jason finally spoke, his voice a little lighter than it had been in days. “I told you it’d be okay,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His tone was teasing, but there was a tenderness to it that made your heart swell.

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “You did,” you admitted. “But I didn’t believe it.”

Jason let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Of course you didn’t. You’re stubborn as hell.”

You laughed too, the sound light and freeing in a way it hadn’t been in what felt like forever. “I guess I am.”

He tilted your chin up slightly, his eyes searching yours. “But you don’t have to be strong all the time,” he said softly, his thumb grazing your jaw. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you. You don’t have to go through stuff like this alone.”

Your throat tightened at his words, and you felt a fresh wave of tears welling up in your eyes—this time, not out of fear, but out of gratitude. Jason had been your rock throughout all of this, even when you hadn’t known how to ask for help. He had just been there, steady and unwavering.

“I know,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jason.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. “You’re never gonna have to find out,” he said, his voice low and full of certainty.

And in that moment, you believed him.

[count-on-mi]

Twice Interactive Story Part 42-59.5 Home Date or Bed Date (Nayeon)

After sending out Mina, you finally have the time to get back to your actual work after these 2 insane days. Time flies when you are focusing on work, it is already night now. You pack your belongings and then leave the office.

It's Friday today, so you have a longer time to rest tonight, you are thinking you should visit your family or date with your girlfriend tonight while you are driving home.

I decide to spend sometime with my girlfriend. Maybe an at home date were we cook something and watch a movie.

As it's Friday, you have decided to date your girlfriend tonight, so you try to call her.

She tells you she is ready to leave her office, so you are going to pick her up, and go to your home.

You have dated your girlfriend Nayeon for a couple of years since you were in college. However, as she is working on the other side of the city, so she is not living with you, instead she share a flat with some of her colleagues.

You really miss her, so you just drive there as soon as possible.

Once you arrive, she is rushing to you to get a hug.

'Y/N, I miss you so much, do you miss me too?'

"Of course, I miss you. I want to be with you every day." I give her a kiss, and tell ask her what she wants to do for our date. If she doesn't have an idea I suggest we go back to my place and I cook her something.

You kiss her forehead and hug her back, 'Of coz I miss you, Nabong, I can't even sleep well without you.'

Nayeon smirks and said she was a bit tired and want to spend the night for a home date.

You two then buy some ingredients at the supermarket before back to your home.

As she is tired, you tell her to go to a bath first and you would cook her dinner.

I'll cook her favorite meal as she takes a bath.

In the downtime, I have between cooking. I'll run over to turn on the Television to get a movie ready.

You send Nayeon into the bathroom, and you start preparing dinner, cooking steak and making the salad, pouring wine, in the meantime time, you set up the table and light up the candle, trying to get the dinner more romantic.

After everything is settled, you sit on sofa and turn on the TV, looking for some movie that you two can watch.

You then tell Nayeon the dinner's ready, and ask is she ok cause she take the bath a bit longer than usual.

Nayeon come out with her pajamas and then you two finally start the dinner with the wine, Nayeon seems not too happy, you are curious and ask her why.

'I didn't lock the door, babe.'

It takes me a second before I realize what she means, I go and hug her before whispering "we have all night my love, we can take things slow" I'll lead her to the food I made.

You two then enjoy the dinner through the night, while talking about how it's going when you are separated.

Nayeon is a bit drunk after dinner, but she still wants to spend some time with you before she falls asleep, so you hold her to the sofa and watch the movie together.

You didn't realize Nayeon has fall asleep during the movie, she sleeps when she cuddling you and have a smile on her face.

I gently lift her and carry her to my bed. I'll get behind her and hug her being the bid spoon as I fall asleep.

The sleeping is too good which you two sleep until noon, you wake up first, and Nayeon awake so when you try to pull out your arm.

'Sorry that I woke you up baby.'

'Never mind baby, we have wasted a night already, perhaps it's the time now.'

Nayeon kisses you while searching your morning boner in your pants.

I'll kiss her back while one of my hands goes underneath her pajama pants and the other starts to play with her tit through her clothes.

You two are kissing and fingering each other inside the pants, she grabs your hand and put it inside her pajamas so you can play her tits directly.

You two keep making out passionately like the end of the world, she rides on you as you two remove your clothes, she sucks on your nipple and keeps stroking your shaft with your pre-cum as lubricant. The sensation makes you shiver, and you start moaning.

I just tell her enough with foreplay, and align myself with her pussy before pulling her down. I continue kissing her as I thrust.

It's time for the main course, you tell Nayeon you are ready and you kiss her, you align your shaft with her pussy and thrust up before she can react. Nayeon's pussy is already familiar with the size of your shaft, so she takes no time to adjust herself, knowing she has been waiting for a whole week, you thrust to the deepest every time, hope to make she cums as soon as possible.

You pull her head down for kiss as you keep fucking her, you can still hear her moan although you two are kissing. Soon she pushes your head away and start riding you more quickly, you can feel her walls become tighter.

'Faster babe, ahh, I am ahh, nearly cumming, ahh, make me ahh, cum!'

I hold onto her hips and when I feel that she's about to cum, I slam her down on my cock and fill her with cum.

'Yeah Nabong, I'm cumming too, let's cum together' Feeling her walls becoming even tighter, you de no resist the pleasure as you want to cum with her, with three more thrusts, your push into the deepest and slam her down when your cock is releasing your seed.

You keep thrusting until all your release all your seed, Nayeon's hand also massaging your ball. You two enjoying the aftertaste of the orgasm as she is laying on your chest.

I kiss her forehead and ask if she enjoyed herself, already knowing the answer.

You two are sharing some sweet time after the sex, with Nayeon laying on your chest, but suddenly you feel Nayeon is adjusting her body, you thought she was finding a better position to cuddle, but you soon realize what is happening when she is playing your dick.

'Come on Nabong, I suppose we are going to have sweet time?'

'Isn't it a sweet time? Nayeon smirks and turn her head down to you lower half.

I smile at her and start to play with her tits in response. "If you want a really sweet time, then how about we go again?"

'Let's go for another round babe, I want you to eat me out.' Nayeon said while sits on your face and start sucking you.

You two are now in a 69 position and you start licking her cunt, her moan makes vibrations in her mouth, which make much pleasure to you, so you lick her more fiercely, and try to put your finger in her ass. She starts to shake when you enter her, you can feel her mouth getting tighter.

I decide to have some fun and add another finger in her as while at the same time speeding up my fingers.

You found that every time you push in your finger, Nayeon's mouth is becoming tighter, so you put one more finger in and speed up, you also put your tongue in her pussy.

Nayeon is so hyper, that she keeps moaning, however as she is sucking your cock, she has nowhere else to release her pleasure, she just suck you harder.

This becomes a cycle, each time you go in faster, she sucks your dick harder, and you feel your dick start twisting. 'Shit, Nayeon you have such a good mouth, I'm going to cum.'

I'll start rubbing her clit with my other hand as well as inserting a third finger in an attempt to make us cum at the same time.

You increase your intensity hope to bring Nayeon cums at the same time with you. However, her mouth is too good to resist, you did not make it.

'OH, Nayeon, shit, I 'm cumming, I 'm cumming, take it all' You thrust your hips up wanting to get deeper in her mouths while you keep shooting your cums into her mouth.

This is the most pleasant orgasm you have for a long time, the amount you cum even more than your first cum, Nayeon cannot hold onto it, and some of the semen are leaking out from her mouth and even nose.

I'll keep eating out Nayeon and fingering her asshole that way she gets to cum too.

You keep the intensity of your fingers while Nayeon is milking you. Nayeon finally cums and splash her cum on your face. Nayeon lay down in your chest once again to get some rest while still playing your cum.

'You cum so much babe, much more than the first round, you like my mouth more than my pussy huh?'

I tease her by asking if she likes it in her ass more than her pussy. I follow that up by telling her that I just enjoy being her.

'With that much cum in my pussy, we would definitely get a baby, it's wasted in my mouth.' Nayeon answers seductively.

'But I am hungry now, babe.'

I focus on Nayeon's first comment. Cupping her cheek I ask her if she wants a baby.

You are turned on by Nayeon's comment on having a baby, your shaft immediately harden. Nayeon giggles when she feel your dick is pointing her thigh.

'Turned on by imagining pumping a baby inside me, huh you horny boy.' She grabs your shaft and starts stroking again.

You cup her cheek and ask her would she like to have a baby with you seriously. She turns around her face to focus on stroking you instead of giving you answer.

I'll bring her face back up and kiss her saying I'd love to give her a baby

You kiss Nayeon and tell her again you really want to have a baby with her, She answers you 'Why don't we enjoy this moment instead?' and returns to your kiss while hitting the sensitive spot on your dick with her hand.

The sensation makes you addicted, you forgot what you wanna say and start moaning again.

I roll over her and get ready to fuck her again. Playing her modest tits while I do so.

You roll her over and align with her pussy, then you thrust in. You even don't want to tease it with her cunt as you just want to solve your pain in the boner by putting it in. You keep thrusting her and grabbing her tits. Her leg is crossing on your waist, demanding you to go deeper.

I kiss her and tell her I love her as I push deeper into her pussy.

She replies to your kiss passionately and says she love you too. She move your hips to fit your rhythm to give you a better sensation, soon Nayeon cums and you reach your orgasm in her tightened walls when moaning her name.

When you finish your orgasm and try to pull out, her legs cramp your waist not allowing you to let go. 'Don't pull out yet, I wanna feel you a bit longer.' So you just stay in the position and hug her.

When She recovers, she starts to tease you again, and you reply passionately. You two just keep having sex for the weekend. Eat, Sex and Sleep is the only routine, and you even can't remember how many times you have cummed in her.

As the weekend finished, I was a little sad that Nayeon had to go. I gave her a hug and prepared for another week at work.

When you two wake up again is already Sunday night, it's time for Nayeon to go, You bring her to dinner and then drive her back to her home.

'I can just barely walk, honey.'

'Yeah, someone just keep telling me harder yesterday.'

Nayeon blushes and hits you lightly. 'Don't find other girls when I am not here babe, and clean the bathroom so we can take a bath together next week.'

'You already drained me Nayeon, I would only cum for you.'

Nayeon gives you a goodbye kiss and then strugglely walk away. Seeing she enters the apartment, you turn away to back home, getting ready for the new week.

[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.

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

Taglist:

@judig92 / @randomperson1234sblog /@nyxbranwenn /@lilah-asteria / @barb00235

-

@landofpetrichor / @hjgdhghoe / @buttermilktea11 / @yourforeveryoungblog / @sassyn

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@zoeisdreaming6 / @minnieoo / @girl-math-aint-mathing / @raisam / @inloveallthetime

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@blessthepizzaman / @bxtchopolis / @erencvlt / @mylittle-flower-loves

Thank you all for being so patient with this update! As always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[saintjosie]

Nobody within my community believes that my mom is physically & verbally abusive to me & my younger siblings because she maintains a good public image by being nice & providing for everybody else. I'm sorry that I'm sending this through an ask but I've tried so much for 17 years & I feel like I'm at the end of my rope, I'm sorry...

i hear you, i see you, i believe you, and my heart hurts for you.

im going to be honest, as much as i wish i could personally help you, i can’t because you’re a minor and also because honestly, i don’t know what to do.

but as someone who went through childhood abuse myself and has since reclaimed my power, i promise you, it is possible and i promise you that you are doing so much better than you think.

and i know how it feels to feel powerless. to take on the hurt of people who should be taking on yours and feeling like it’s your fault.

and one of the things i’ve realized through years and years of healing is that abusers abuse because they feel powerless. and they feel this way because of the people who raised them, because of the people around them, because of the how the world sees them, but also most importantly, how they see themselves. the anger and abuse they take out on us are because they hate themselves and they try to reclaim their power from others by making them feel powerless.

but if you feel powerless right now there’s something i’ve realized in the process of reclaiming my own power that might help you.

1) the first step is to recognize that what is happening to you isn’t right. this might be something you’ve known for a long time and something that might seem incredibly obvious to you but it is far more difficult than it seems. it is SO easy to get trapped into thinking that this pain is your fault and this is why so many people get trapped in the cycle of abuse and abuse others. but you know that the way you are being treated is not right. that is already powerful.

2) the second step is reaching out for help. you dropped me an ask and you spoke your truth. you trusted someone on the internet you don’t know but took a chance anyways and that takes SO much strength. because strength is not about always being strong because that simply isn’t possible. strength is knowing your weaknesses and asking for help when you need it. because everyone needs help sometimes and so few people reach out to ask when they do. but you made the choice to reach out.

3) i can’t help you but there are absolutely people who can. people who have been through what you have gone through and have a fire within them that drives them to make sure that no one else has to feel this way.

and so even though i’m writing specifically to you anon, i also know that the people who see this and understand will say something.

so now dear reader, if you have words of encouragement or resources to share, please do.

i see you, i love you, and i believe in you.

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @transboybuckley @freewayshark @rewritetheending @devirnis

thank ya darlins! yalls work is just !!!!!!!! so good!

here's a snip from my sort of secret project :) (and sorry it's long, im just excited)

Eddie offers Maddie his hand, palm up, no trace of a fist in sight, and her brown eyes flicker with something that could be relief, that smile fading away beneath the weight of grief clouded breath as she takes Eddie’s hand, clasping onto him like he’s the only support she has, like maybe if she holds his hand hard enough then Buck will feel it too.

“Do you need anything?” he winds up asking, unsure of what else he can do but needing to do something for someone other than himself.

Maddie shakes her head. Stops. Shrugs her shoulders. Laughs a little at herself. “I guess saying my brother would be a bit too pathetic, wouldn’t it?”

“No,” Eddie answers truthfully. “No. Not at all. I–” he sighs and lets the rest of that sentence fade away.

I need him too isn’t what she needs to hear right now and it’s not like saying that would do anything anyway.

It wouldn’t alleviate the sickly crush of his bones or the despair hardening his heart or the death that’s more alive in his veins than anything else.

Maddie squeezes his hand as if she understands and maybe she does.

It makes Eddie ache for his own sisters, for their energy and comfort. It makes him ache for a way to heal the hurt splintering across them both. It makes him ache for a time when he and her worked together to bandage up a wounded Buck while he smiled a bloody smile.

The two of them were always enough then. Not so much now.

“Remember the time Buck busted his nose while skateboarding?” Maddie asks and it sounds a bit like she’s talking more to herself than to Eddie but he listens as she continues, the image of a young Buck with curly hair a few shades lighter than it is now hanging in his eyes and coated in the blood smeared across his face so vivid in Eddie’s mind he could touch it.

“He was on the sidewalk trying to race alongside the cars that drove past, waving and smiling like an idiot to anyone that looked at him.” She huffs, laughter clearly not something she is fully capable of at the moment, amusement not strong enough to burst fully out of her.

“Idiot,” Eddie agrees, forcing himself to say it, the word falling out alongside a weak exhalation that was meant to be an answering smile or laugh.

What he really wants to do is beg her not to do this. It sounds too much like the things people kept saying to Eddie after Shannon’s funeral.

Remember when Shannon set firecrackers off during that one football game? Remember how she used to laugh so hard she’d snort? Remember the time she thought she could fix the car by herself even though she knew absolutely nothing about cars? Remember how beautiful she looked when y'all got married?

Everyone was desperate to hand off their memories of her, remind him of who she was as if he had forgotten. Perhaps he had at some point. But each memory felt like a knife slipping beneath his skin, slick and edged with a sharp sting.

It took everything he had not to shout back, Remember how she used to love me? Remember when she left me? When she left our son? Remember the way she used to always want to be around me and how quickly everything changed until she couldn’t stand being in my presence? She was leaving again, did you know? She knew I wasn’t enough, did you know?

Eddie doesn’t want to talk about Buck like he’s already gone. He doesn’t want another love to leave him behind again. He doesn’t want to even consider the possibility that these memories are one day all he will have left, that when he speaks of Buck it will always start with Remember and a story that couldn’t even come close to encapsulating everything Buck is.

tagging @shitouttabuck @elvensorceress @try-set-me-on-fire @lemonzestywrites @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @queerdiazs @jeeyuns @spagheddiediaz @queerdiaz @bigfootsmom @honestlydarkprincess @shyaudacity @heterosexistly @hippolotamus @dr-shortsighted-owl @lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @bi-buckrights @sibylsleaves @wikiangela @jesuisici33 and anyone else who wants to share!

[lost-in-fandoms]

https://www.tumblr.com/thicciardo/761905055702122496?source=share

Having big thoughts about Daniel being a photographer and Max being still a F1 driver kajgkajgksjjg. Maybe Daniel needs the money so he takes a job being a F1 photographer and it's not his passion exactly but it pays well. He is going to take pictures of cars going vroom, travel everywhere and being paid for it (so he can take pics of what he really loves. What it is? I don't know).

But he didn't know Max. Like, he was aware that Max was F1 world champion??? But he didn't expect Max to be so breathtakingly beautiful. So maybe he has a little crisis about it. Idksugid. I have to go to sleep but ESIIIIII DANIEL BEING A PHOTOGRAPHER 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Hello lovely I miss you!!! I have been having big thoughts about this since I saw your ask last night, but I only have this little thing to offer. Might revisit in the future because I love this idea very much <3

Daniel doesn't exactly know how he finds out about the job offer. He thinks maybe Blake mentioned it to him, having heard about it from a friend of a friend, but it's not really important.

It wouldn't be a bad gig: being able to travel the world, mingling with famous people, filling his portfolio, and getting paid for it. Sure, cars and millionaires aren't exactly his preferred subjects, but he can look past it for that kind of salary and perks.

So he goes over his CV, trying to make himself sound more professional than he feels, and sends it. You miss every chance you don't take and all that.

He's not expecting to be called back, to be honest. Even fattening his portfolio with all the people photos he has, good or less good, he knows it's mostly wildlife and nature, not exactly what a formula 1 team might look for, and yet, two weeks later, he wakes up to an email with three suggested dates for an online interview and a we'd be excited to offer you a position as soon as possible.

And three weeks after that, he's stepping on a plane, flight fully paid and brain already adding up his new salary to the savings in his bank account.

--

The scanner beeps when Daniel puts his pass against it, a thrill of excitement traveling down his spine at the small sound, and then he finds himself in the paddock.

It's still early, so it's not as crowded as it will for sure become later, but it still makes him think of the savannah, people milling around minding their business, swayed from time to time by the sudden arrival of a celebrity or a driver, circles forming and breaking, flocks in the grass.

It settles his mind to think about this as another wildlife shoot, as if this wasn't a stepping stone towards his dream, but the open door to it already, and he makes himself smile by taking a picture of Lewis Hamilton like he would of a leopard, half hidden behind a plant, light catching his earring like a fleeting spot. Even the cars have something animal about them, growling engines and opening wings, wheels pushing the ground like running deer.

The Red Bull hospitality building (a waterhole, his brain suggests) welcomes him with air conditioning and handshakes, both from people he's met already the one time he has gone to the factory, and from strangers, too many names being thrown at him to try and remember them.

And then there's Max Verstappen.

Daniel hadn't met him at the factory. He knows who he is, obviously. Even if formula 1 isn't his preferred flavor of motorsport, he is not completely clueless about it, and he had brushed up his knowledge before coming here, just to try and make sure he doesn't embarrass himself. And yet, it is different to meet him in person.

Daniel had watched two videos of him to prepare himself: one about his racing, and one interview. The racing had been incredible. The interview had been so awkward and stiff Daniel had spent several minutes looking at the ceiling, trying to think about how to justify his yet-to-be-shot photos being shit without saying your driver is the worst model I've ever seen.

He doesn't look bad, of course he doesn't, he is actually quite handsome, but there's such a stiffness and coldness around him, one that screams rude entitled bastard from a mile away, and Daniel does not work well with that. He has actually been wondering if he had been chosen, with his warm toned photos and his soft focus, just to try and soften his edges a little.

So he's not surprised by the firmness of the handshake, or the quick Max as an answer to Daniel's hello I'm Daniel, it's great to meet you!, both exactly what he had been expecting, but then Max smiles and suddenly Daniel's fingers are itching for his camera.

Max's eyes crinkle when he smiles.

His cheeks bunch up, plush lips stretching wide, the freckle Daniel had already noticed almost disappearing, and suddenly it's prairie crocus in the alpine tundra, color and spring impossibly breaking the cold.

Daniel wants to capture the wrinkles by his eyes in golden light, wants to steal the sparkle in the blue, frame it like sunshine on the ocean, wants to take the blush on his cheek and print it, press his fingertips to every magnified pore. He can't wait to see him put on his helmet, wants to see the arch of his nose framed by the visor.

Suddenly, from mostly neutral bystander, he's turned into avid fan, desperately wishing Max wins, to shoot him through champagne drops.

Maybe this job will be his easiest one yet, after all.

[miaoua3]

Hello,can you write something about scoups (arranged marriage or sugar daddy)?

hii! sure i can! im gonna go for sugar daddy hcs because that’s more my style (and also because arranged marriage trope never really made sense to me unless your parents force you to marry them so lmao). anyway i hope you enjoy this!🫶

Sugar Daddy! Seungcheol Headcanons:

sugar daddy! seungcheol who got jokingly told he should find himself a sugar baby because he has this all money that he barely spends so might as well “invest” that money and at the same time find someone to spend his days with since he’s been kind of miserable and hard to look at because of how lonely he’s been these last few years

sugar daddy! seungcheol who at first dismissed this idea, thinking it’s ridiculous- who would even want to spend their evening with miserable 35 year old ceo that is a bit socially awkward and stoic at times?

sugar daddy! seungcheol who however couldn’t stop thinking about this ridiculous idea for days until finally, purely out of curiosity (liar) made an account on one of the apps for that sort of stuff, who put way too much thought if the picture he was using as his profile picture was good enough

sugar daddy! seungcheol who spend many nights surfing on that app, swiping left and right, talking to many women who were trying way too hard to impress him and who were lacking this little something that he was looking for, though he wasn’t sure what that something was

sugar daddy! seungcheol who then one night came across your profile, who was mesmerised by your beautiful eyes from the get go, who swiped right so fast, hoping that you would swipe right too…only to see that you already matched him

sugar daddy! seungcheol who spend days talking to you, who was being so respectful and cute, always asking about your day first before anything else, who always says that he doesn’t really like talking about his job and that he would much rather spend listening to you talk about whatever you want

sugar daddy! seungcheol who finally got the courage to ask you out after two weeks of talking every day to you

sugar daddy! seungcheol who made sure to prepare the best possible date for you even when he had little to no experience with dating, who pulled up to your apartment complex in his best audi, who spend entirely too much time slicking his hair back, clad in his best armani suit, who was anxiously rubbing his hands together, waiting for you in front of his car…until you stepped out in the most beautiful red dress ever, making his heart stop beating for a second

sugar daddy! seungcheol who took you to the best restaurant in the whole seoul city, who made sure to be the biggest gentleman ever- opening the car doors for you, as well as every other door, who kept his hand respectfully on your back as he walked you to your table, who pulled out your chair for you, who made sure to pick out the best wine according to your tastes that you mentioned him the first week you were talking

sugar daddy! seungcheol whose heart squeezed with pain when you finally told him the reason behind you joining the app, who gently held your hand as you explained to him how unsupportive your parents were of you pursuing your dream and getting the degree for it, how you have to work multiple jobs to make the ends meet and how you actually just got off work before the date and how you only had an hour to get ready for it

sugar daddy! seungcheol who made sure to take care of you after that date- inviting you on dates every few days, paying you way too much for it than you previously agreed on, after a month you were able to quit one of your jobs, making you have more free time to go on dates with seungcheol (which was totally his goal), who also bought you so many nice stuff because “every beautiful woman should be able to have the nicest of things she dreams of having”

sugar daddy! seungcheol who even after three months of seeing each other and spending almost every day together still refused to sleep with you- you were just so young, more than 10 years younger than he is, who didn’t want to taint your innocence with his dark thoughts and fantasies

sugar daddy! seungcheol all but forgot about his promise he made to himself about not sleeping with you the second you kissed him like a starved woman and with your beautifully big and shiny eyes asked him to fuck you

sugar daddy! seungcheol who didn’t think he would be so into being called ‘daddy’ in bed until one night when he was pounding into you mercilessly, his hips slapping against the skin of your ass, your tear filled eyes looking up at him as you let the word slip out, which made every thought disappear from his mind, focusing on making you cum around his dick while moaning “daddy” the whole time

sugar daddy! seungcheol who started constantly referring to himself as your daddy in bed, he could be fucking you against the glass window of his luxurious condo, his chest pressing against your back as he’s pounding your pussy, his hot breath brushing against your ear as he asks you “who’s your daddy? hm? does daddy make you feel good? cum. cum around daddy’s dick, cream around it”

sugar daddy! seungcheol who after months of this routine eventually caught feelings for you, who was so afraid of messing this up with you, but who couldn’t being himself to stop from seeing you, from taking care of you, who hoped that his feelings would eventually just fade away with time

sugar daddy! seungcheol who let out the biggest sigh of relief when you admitted to him your feelings for him in a shaky voice, who immediately kissed you senseless as he too, in a shaky voice, admitted “i love you too, so so much my sweetheart”

sugar daddy! seungcheol who gets upgraded to boyfriend! seungcheol and who couldn’t be happier about it. who moves you in with him within a month of you two being officially together, who makes you focus all of your energy on your studies (and him)

sugar daddy! seungcheol who was the best thing to have ever happened to you❤️

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

i hope this is okay for you! i think i overdid it on the daddy kink but oh well lol

[flemingsgirl]

Enough pt. 1

AN: Here's to our princess, the fighter and captain of an incredible, resilient, and unique team. You showed what you're capable of, and the next tournament will be yours. You shined all over these games and gave it all you have. What a comeback after the deduction.

Forever proud.

The ringing of your phone pulls you out of your evening nap. As you read the caller ID, your lips turn upwards, and you’re quick to answer the call. “Hey, hey.” The girl on the other end greets.

“Bonjour,” you respond as she rolls her amber eyes, still a smile creeps on her cherry lips.

She shakes her head before she moves on. “How are you?”

You let out a chuckle at the casual conversation the Canadian tries. “Quite good. Just finished recovery and you?”

“Nervous, but all around okay. Can’t wait for the game tomorrow; I feel like the team has potential.” She rubs the back of her neck, eyes avoiding you through the screen.

“That’s great. Hopefully you can show off your talent, captain Fleming,” a smirk creeping on your lips as you wink at her.

“The team will do just fine with or without me. Never mind, how’s Paris?” her eyes drifting back to the screen watching as you walk from your bedroom out to the balcony.

“Superbe. I understand why it is called the city of love. Nice people, good food and all these athletes.” You lick your lips, locking your eyes with hers. “Excellente.”

“If you continue like this...I…” Jessie’s eyes are searching around her hotel room.

A giggle escapes your lips. “You…What?”

She rubs her chin, “I don’t know yet, but it’ll be terrible.”

“Nothings worse than how I miss you.” Your mouth fell open, and your eyes widen. A moment later your hands hide your face.

“Aww, I miss you more. Can’t wait to see you again.” The Canadian teases, one side of her mouth turning up.

“Yeah, hopefully with medals,” you comment. “Dancing in the setting sun.”

“Are you planning out our next date?” Now both corners of Jessie’s lips turn up.

“So, you’re thinking of dates when we meet?”

Her brows darted up. “What else would it be?”

“Two friends hanging out.” Jessie scoffs on the other end. “You’re nice and we can talk about everything, like you’re my bestie.” The Canadian rolls her eyes, lips falling into a frown.

“Okay I’m hanging up now. You’re mean,” her voice getting quieter, as if she distances herself from the phone.

“Wait… bebe.”

“Oh, I like that sound.”

“No-oh you’re not privileged.”

“Well seems like it. You already called me that, no takesies backsies, it’s my name from now on, no other.”

You sighed, you hated how your mouth had a mind on its own. “You’re unbelievable.”

Wishing you could erase the smirk that lingers on Jessie’s lips you adorn the football player. “I thought I was bebe.”

Without another word you end the call just for Jessie to call you back after a few seconds. Her smile the first thing you see as you accepted, her eyes beaming as she observes you. “You not quit on talking with me. I want updates.”

“On what? My relationship status? Last time I checked I was still single.” Jessie stays silent. “You know I don’t mean it like that. It’s just a joke. I enjoy getting to know you, slow and silently. It’s comfortable and you’re kind and a warm-hearted person. The last weeks were incredible and pretty dope.” You feel the heat rising to your cheeks and cover your cheeks and mouth behind your hand, a smile from ear to ear sitting on your face.

Jessie gives you a heartwarming smile back, eyes glued on you through the screen. “I was counting the seconds until you say this word.” She chuckles afterwards, her reddish cheeks growing a deeper shape.

“Wow thank you for the kind words, Fleming,” you roll your eyes, eyes avoiding the woman in front of you.

Another chuckle fills the room. “What? It was just a matter of time ‘til you use it.” The line stays silent, only the breaths of you two audible. “Thank you, you possibly don’t know how much your words mean to me. I enjoy spending time with you too. Your outgoing persona and you view for the small things in life influence me. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’m really looking forward to watch your games and I’ll cheer on you!”

“And so do I! Sadly you aren’t making it into the gym.”

“Don’t be sad. I don’t need to be seen for you to feel like I’m there. Have a look in your bag.”

Your brows knitter as you scrunch your forehead. “What do you mean?”

“Just have a look, I promise.” You glance over to your luggage finding it still untouched after your arrival. In a second you moved over and find a carbon box covered with a ribbon on top in between your clothes.

“How did you…”

“Magic.” She waves her hands in front of her camera and you giggle at the sight of her silly side.

“Jessie, tell me,” you drag out the "e" as you push her to reveal her magic.

She shruggs her shoulders. “Theres nothing to tell.”

“For sure. How did this box end up in my bag in Paris when you’re in Saint Etienne?”

“Like I said. Magic. Open it.”

“I… I have no words, why? I’ve got nothing for you.”

“You don’t have to. Having you in my life is the best present someone can get.”

“Stop it.” Your smile falls into a frown and your eyes getting glassy as curtain of tears settles in.

Jessie’s bottom lip quivers and her brows rise. “Please don’t cry when I can’t reassure you. Open it, now,” she changes the topic. Her voice a higher-pitch and bubbly as she shuffles inpatiently in her spot.

“Alright, alright chef.”

You pull one string of the band, and it falls to the sides of the box. When you lift the lid, you’re meet with a moose plushie and upon further glancing a silver necklace catches your eyes. You take the item out and observe it in detail. The maple leaf chain is highlighted with rhinestones. “Jessie this is…”

The Canadian interrupts you. “I know its too much and if you don’t like it, I can take it back and we forget about it. It’s too soon, right? I knew it. I shouldn’t have done it…” her voice just above a whisper and it’s trembling as she rattles at a rapid pace.

“No, Jess stop. It’s perfect. I really like it. It somehow holds a connection to you and it’s great. Keep an eye on our team pictures,” you wink at her.

“I’ll do.” A knock echoes through the phone as Jessie’s eyes stop on the person who entered.

“It’s dinner time,” Janine’s voice fill the air. “Who are you on the phone with?” her eyebrows wiggle as she lowers herself to glance at Jessie’s screen.

“No one,” Jessie’s hand covers the phone as she spins in her position, now on her back and her phone pressed onto her body. “That’s my clue to go. We’ll talk later.” She rushes and catches you one last time on the screen. You give her a shy smile and nod in agreement.

Little did the Canadian know; you had a surprise yourself for the young woman.