#i should be studying for finals but i needed to organize my thoughts

[hesherehesthere]

This is going to be a long post, and probably all over the place, but I've been really fixated on Roy and Nate as parallels and contrasts to one another, and I have a lot of thoughts.

This rant is particularly going to be about the ways in which Nate and Roy's masculinity presents, how both of them are men with severe insecurities that manifest in different ways, as well as the ways in which Nate's jealousy of Roy contributes to his arc.

When I first saw Ted Lasso, I initially interpreted Nate's arc as being a combination of toxic masculinity merging with the fact that Twitter is fucking poison for your brain. I do think that's part of it, but I think there's a lot more to it as well. With that being said, that's as good a place as any to start.

In my mind, Nate is essentially the embodiment of toxic fragile masculinity, where Roy is more representative of (mostly) non-toxic strong masculinity. Roy's insecurities are not particularly focused on his masculinity. He doesn't care about Keeley gossiping about him until he realizes she's been talking about something he's insecure about, and he hangs out with older women and drag queens, without any worries about how that reflects on him as a man. Roy's insecurities revolve much more around the end of his career and not knowing who he is as a person, with a healthy dose of wondering if he's a bad person or fundamentally unlovable. Roy is masculine in a very traditional kind of way. However, he uses that masculinity to help other people (for example, both Sam and Nate in S1), unlike Nate, who, particularly in S2 onward, comes across as less masculine and more bully.

Roy is also more internal and self destructive, while Nate is more external and lashes out at others as a result of his insecurities.

To continue along thought, I think it's important to note that Roy has always been a big defender of Nate. It is made extremely clear that Roy has never been particularly fond of the way that people (notably Jamie, Isaac and Colin) treat Nate in S1, but it goes beyond that. Roy is also shown to consistently go out of his way to acknowledge, congratulate, and give Nate credit for things, even after he's come on as a coach in S2. All throughout S2, there are a number of different moments where Roy will go to Nate to hug or cheer with him, Roy acknowledges Nate with a little head nod when he comes back on as a coach in 2x5, as well as several verbal scenes (Roy going to Nate's office to congratulate him on his park the bus play, Roy telling Rebecca "This has nothing to do with me, this was all Nate", etc).

A bit of an aside, but this also seems like a testament to the fact that Roy isn't big on grudges, because despite all the reasons he should be disgruntled, he's still more than okay with letting Nate come back to Richmond in S3. "I don't give a fuck. He's great at the shit I suck at." Even after all the fallout, Roy is still acknowledging that Nate is smart, someone he would be willing to work with, and a significant asset to the team.

Roy has always been a big Nate defender, so it hurts that Nate doesn't even seem to see it, particularly into S2, when he has been given more power. Obviously, he does acknowledge and thank Roy in 1x4, but after that point he doesn't seem to think about it much. I think that Nate is essentially blinded by his jealousy of Roy, to the point that he is unable to see his true intentions, because he so desperately wants to be him, or at least be like him.

In 2x5, when Nate is at A Taste of Athens, he laughs at something that Roy says during his pundit stint. He laughs at Roy tearing into Cartrick, specifically when he makes a comment about him pissing his pants. However, it's important to note that Roy was so aggressive in that scene in direct response to Cartrick being overtly sexist, which doesn't seem to be something that Nate particularly acknowledges. I don’t think that Nate agrees with Cartrick by any means, but I also don’t know if it really plays into why he thinks that interaction is funny.

Nate definitely feels personally attacked by Roy's coming back as a coach. This is probably due in part to the fact that he comes back after Ted essentially laughs at him and tells him that he doesn't think that he can help Isaac through his mental block, but that he thinks that Roy can. His insecurities are made worse by being next to Roy, as he feels as though he needs to prove himself.

I think this is supported by the fact that Nate also gets a lot more verbally aggressive after Roy's back, though he was making slow progress in that direction anyways. In some ways it almost feels like he's trying to copy Roy, to compete with him and embody him.

Because of this, I also want to briefly mention the scene where Nate kisses Keeley. I think it is implied throughout the show, as early as S1, that Nate has always liked her, at least a little bit. Keeley is casually touchy and affectionate as a person, and Nate could have interpreted those signals as her (possibly) being into him. Though he clearly regrets kissing her, in the leadup to that scene, he also laughs at Keeley's impression of Roy, where she's gently making fun of him. I think that it could have boosted his ego a bit to hear Roy being put down. I think his jealousy could have combined with that ego boost and played into that scene.

Another thing to mention is the fact that Roy is not particularly threatened by Nate kissing Keeley, where he is threatened by Jamie telling Keeley that he loves her.

Nate is upset about that because he thinks that Roy should be more mad at him, because he is a threat damnit, but I also wonder how much of Roy not being threatened is that he also somewhat considers Nate to be a friend. Though I don't think that Roy is threatened by him, I think it's also clear that he does like Nate, and even respects him. (I think there's also something to be said about the fact that Roy is more threatened by Jamie, not because he's more of a man than Nate, but because he and Keeley have a history, but that's a whole other tangent that I won't go on today).

I think that's all I have to say on the topic for now; sorry if this post didn't make any sense, I mostly wrote it out to try and organize my own thoughts. If someone else gets something out of it, that would be a great bonus.

[lostfracturess]

beneath the mistletoe — satoru gojo

having a crush on your brother's best friend is bad enough. having that best friend look better at every family dinner is just cruel. but worst of all? he's noticed your not-so-subtle staring.

It should be illegal how Satoru Gojo manages to look better every goddamn single Christmas dinner.

You watch him over the rim of your glass as he throws his head back laughing at something your aunt just said, the sound rich and warm like honey. And it doesn't help that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, giving you a perfect view of his unfairly handsome forearms.

Your grip tightens on your glass as he runs a hand through those perfect white strands of his, and you catch yourself wondering, not for the first time, if they're as soft as they look.

It's been like this for years now — ever since your brother Suguru first brought his college roommate home for the holidays, Satoru's own family being overseas.

Now he's practically part of the family, showing up to every gathering with that infuriating smile and those stupidly blue eyes that seem to find you no matter where you are in the room.

You deliberately focus on your plate, stabbing a potato with perhaps more force than necessary. But your eyes, the traitors, keep drifting back to him of their own accord. It's frustrating, really.

Almost impossible not to notice the way his white hair falls just so over his forehead, or how his jaw flexes when he's deep in thought, or the way his throat moves when he takes a sip of wine.

Not that you're looking at his throat.

You're not.

(You totally are.)

And then, because the universe hates you, he catches you staring.

Those blue eyes lock with yours across the table, and his lips curl into a faint smile that makes your stomach flip. You nearly choke on your wine, quickly averting your gaze to study the tablecloth like it's the most fascinating thing you've ever seen.

"Stop staring at my best friend," Suguru whispers as he passes behind your chair.

Shit. Was it that obvious?

After dinner, you escape to the back porch, needing some air that isn't thick with the scent of cinnamon and Satoru's cologne. The winter night is crisp and clear, your breath forming little clouds in the darkness.

You're not surprised when you hear the door open behind you, or when the familiar scent of cigarette smoke wafts your way.

"Those things will kill you, Suguru," you say without turning around.

"That's what I keep telling him," Satoru's voice chimes in, and you turn to find them both strolling onto the porch, your stomach dropping. Suguru takes another deliberate drag of his cigarette, maybe just to spite you both, while Satoru wrinkles his nose.

"Speaking of things that might kill you," Satoru says, "how's that final year of college treating you?"

You try to focus on the question, but it's difficult when the porch light is hitting his eyes just right, making them look impossibly bluer and you have to resist the urge to melt under his gaze.

"It's fine," you manage, aiming for nonchalant. "Just trying to survive my thesis."

"Ah, your thesis." His lips quirk up in that stupidly attractive way of his. "What was your topic again? Something about modern interpretations of folklore?"

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You mentioned it exactly once, months ago, during summer break. You hadn't expected him to remember.

"Japanese urban legends and their evolution through social media," you correct him, trying not to read too much into the fact that he remembered at all. "Though at this point, it's more like about my own evolution into madness."

Suguru snorts, flicking ash off his cigarette. "Please, you're the only person I know who actually enjoys research. I've seen your color-coded spreadsheets."

"Some of us like being organized," you shoot back.

As if on cue, your aunt's voice carries from inside. "Suguru! Can you come help your father with something?"

Suguru sighs, crushing his cigarette under his heel before heading inside, leaving you alone with Satoru. And suddenly the porch feels much smaller than it did a moment ago.

Great.

"So," Satoru says, shifting closer until his arm brushes yours. "Going to tell me why you've been watching me all night?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "I haven't—"

"You're not as subtle as you think," he interrupts. "I can feel you glaring holes into the back of my head whenever I'm around."

"I don't glare," you protest weakly.

"No?" His voice drops lower as he steps closer, backing you against the porch railing. "Then what would you call it?"

You swallow hard, trying to ignore how good he smells up close. "Curious observation?"

He laughs, the sound sending warmth spreading through your chest despite the cold. "Is that what we're calling it now?" Then his eyes flick up. "Would you look at that?"

You follow his gaze to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the porch ceiling, definitely not there earlier today. You're going to kill your mother. Or your aunt. Or your cousin.

Maybe all of them.

"We don't have to—" you start to say, but Satoru's already leaning in, moving into your space with that casualness he's always had, like being this close to you is the most natural thing in the world.

"I've been waiting for an excuse to kiss you since sophomore year," he murmurs. "Please don't ruin this for me."

Oh.

Oh.

His lips meet yours before you can process that confession, soft and warm and tasting faintly of the mulled wine from dinner. Your hands find their way to his chest as he cups your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he kisses you like he's been thinking about it for years.

And the truth is, he has.

When you finally break apart, his forehead resting against yours, you say, "Suguru's never going to let us live this down."

"Worth it." Satoru smiles, stealing another quick kiss. "Though I should probably thank him for the mistletoe."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew. Who do you think helped him put it up?"

You smack his chest, but he just catches your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Merry Christmas to me," he says with a wink.

And despite yourself, you can't help but smile back. "Merry Christmas, you idiot."

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[thesecondhandwoman]

you did my last ask so great I had to ask again. This time could you do a Grayson or Ambessa with a chronically ill reader. More so on the chronic pain side. Maybe they need mobile aids? Take your time, drink some water and take care of yourself

-🧚‍♂️

CHRONICALLY ILL

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: Ambessa has always loved you, ever since the day you two had become so close. But once you slowly become more and more ill, you start to doubt that she would ever love such a burden.

Request: Anon 🤍

Noxus, with its towering spires and ever-burning forges, was a city of unyielding strength. It was a place where weakness was supposedly stamped out, where survival meant thriving against all odds. You had grown up in the shadow of that philosophy, and it had shaped you in ways you didn’t fully realize until your body began to betray you.

At first, it had been manageable—an ache here, a stiffness there. But as the years went on, the pain grew relentless. It wasn’t the kind of battle you could fight with a blade or conquer with brute force, and in Noxus, that was a struggle all its own.

Then there was Ambessa.

Your life as her assistant had started humbly, a position born out of necessity rather than ambition. You had worked tirelessly, managing her correspondence, organizing her campaigns, and ensuring her days flowed as seamlessly as possible. Ambessa had always been a figure larger than life—sharp, commanding, and utterly unyielding. But as time passed, she had seen through the masks you wore, glimpsing the pain you thought you’d hidden so well.

And instead of turning away, she stayed.

Now, as the warm glow of her private study illuminated the richly furnished room, you sat curled up in your favorite chair, a steaming cup of tea trembling slightly in your hands. Your cane rested against the chair��s arm, its polished wood worn smooth from years of use.

The pain was worse today, a deep, gnawing ache that radiated through your legs and up into your spine. Even the soft cushion beneath you felt unforgiving, and every shift of your weight sent new waves of discomfort rippling through your body. You tried to focus on the tea, on the way the steam curled into the air, but it was impossible to ignore the familiar throb of pain.

The sound of heavy boots against the stone floor made your heart jump. Ambessa entered the room with the confidence of someone who owned not just the space but the very air within it. Her gaze swept over you, sharp and assessing, and she frowned the moment her eyes met yours.

“How long have you been sitting there, little one?” Her voice was low, rich, and filled with a concern she never bothered to mask when it came to you.

You offered a tired smile, though it felt half-hearted at best. “Not too long,” you lied, knowing she wouldn’t believe you.

Ambessa crossed the room in a few long strides, her imposing presence somehow comforting rather than intimidating. She knelt before you, her strong hands resting on the arms of your chair as she studied your face.

“Do not lie to me,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of command.

You sighed, your shoulders sagging under the invisible weight you carried. “A while,” you admitted. “It’s been one of those days.”

Her frown deepened, and she reached out to take the teacup from your trembling hands, setting it aside with care. Her calloused fingers found yours, enveloping them in a warmth that made your throat tighten.

“You should have called for me,” she said, her tone gentle but firm.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you replied, looking away. “You’ve got armies to command, strategies to plan. You don’t need to be worrying about me.”

Ambessa let out a soft, exasperated sigh. “And yet, here I am, worrying about you. What does that tell you?”

You didn’t answer, the guilt curling in your chest too heavy to put into words.

“Look at me,” she said, her voice softening. When you finally met her gaze, her amber eyes were filled with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “You are not a burden, Y/N. You are not something I tolerate or endure. You are mine, and I will always care for you. Do you understand?”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you nodded silently.

Ambessa rose smoothly to her full height, towering over you but somehow making you feel safe rather than small. She moved to sit on the armrest of your chair, her arm wrapping around your shoulders as she pulled you against her side. The scent of steel and leather clung to her, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“Tell me what you need,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your temple.

“Just…stay,” you whispered, leaning into her. “It helps, having you here.”

She pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering for a moment before she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Then here I’ll stay.”

The hours slipped by as Ambessa stayed true to her word. She didn’t so much as glance at the mountain of paperwork on her desk or the sealed missives waiting for her attention. Instead, she focused entirely on you.

When your pain became too much to sit upright, she helped you to the large, plush bed in the corner of the room. She adjusted the pillows with meticulous care, ensuring your legs were elevated just enough to ease the pressure.

“Comfortable?” she asked, her hand lingering on your knee as she knelt beside the bed.

“Getting there,” you said with a faint smile.

She nodded, standing to fetch a soft, fur-lined blanket from a nearby chair. Draping it over you, she tucked it around your sides with a gentleness that would have surprised anyone who only knew her as the iron-fisted warlord of Noxus.

As you settled in, the pain began to ebb—not completely, but enough that you could breathe a little easier. Ambessa sat beside you, her hand resting on top of yours, her thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles.

“Tell me about the mountains again,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up her face. “Ah, the mountains. Strong, unyielding, and ancient. They remind me of you.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t feel very unyielding right now.”

Ambessa’s smile didn’t waver. “Perhaps not in this moment. But every day, you endure what would break most others. That is strength, my love. Strength I admire.”

Her words wrapped around you like a shield, deflecting the self-doubt that often lingered at the edges of your mind.

“Thank you,” you murmured, squeezing her hand weakly.

“Always,” she replied, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

As the night wore on, your pain ebbed and flowed, but Ambessa remained at your side. She spoke of her travels, of the unyielding peaks of Noxus, and the people who called them home. Her voice was steady, like the rhythm of a heartbeat, lulling you into a fragile sense of peace.

When sleep finally claimed you, it was with the knowledge that no matter how relentless your battles became, Ambessa would always be there—your shield, your comfort, and the one person who made the fight worth it.

A/N: This is definitely not my best way of successfully fulfilling a response, but I hope it was alright! (I love requests like this)

[izzyy-stuff]

heyy izzy! i don’t think ive ever sent in a request to you before but i absolutely love your work so i thought i’d send something in. could you please do a roommate!taehyun fic where he accidentally walks in on you while you’re in the shower but then decides to join you which then ends up in him fucking you while you’re pressed against the cold shower wall and one leg pulled over his shoulder so he can hit deep :)

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 & 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐘 - 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍

roommate!taehyun x fem!reader

in which what originally was supposed to be just a quick shower to help him relax takes a different turn when he walks into the bathroom and sees you already in the shower, deciding to relieve his frustration differently than he originally intended to.

wc 2.5k

warnings shower sex, unprotected sex + creampie, vaginal fingering, tiny mention of nipple play, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, pet names, softdom!taehyun, biting/marking

↪ izzy speaks... I can't believe tae had zero works until now... like that's insane. I'm glad I can finally show it to you though. The writing process for this was for someone reason extremely SLOW. Everyone thank serene for being my life saver again and helping me get through whatever writing block I was feeling while writing this.

Kang Taehyun must have been the safest choice for a roommate ever. 

Unlike the other guys in your friend group, he was calm and knew when to shut up. Taehyun could cook, making your life a lot easier when he offered to make dinner as often as he could, and he was outside the dorm most of the time, too. If he wasn’t in the library studying after his lessons ended, you would find him in the gym, keeping in shape. 

He barely went straight to your dorm after school, so you had learned to get comfortable during your alone time. From using your living room for studying and making a mess with your papers and study books all over the floor, which he would have usually pointed out and told you to keep a system, to walking around the apartment with just your underwear.

So it wasn’t unusual when you sat on the couch in your living room in just panties and an oversized shirt you found at the bottom of your closet while cleaning up last week. You were surprised when you found it, confident you’ve never bought nor worn that shirt. But as you put it on, pushing your thoughts aside as there was no possible way of it being someone else’s if it was in your closet, you realized it was more comfortable than the garments you knew you owned. 

You have gone over the math formula hundreds of times and still feel like you see it for the first time every time your eyes land on it again. It doesn’t make sense. No matter how long you stare at it, the numbers and signs seem foreign. 

You sigh, slamming the math book shut and spreading out on the couch as a sign of giving up. You would have to ask Taehyun about it after dinner. But for now, you had other things on your to-do list for the day. 

Put your and Taehyun’s clothes into the washing machine (AND THANK HIM FOR DOING IT LAST TIME!!) 

Wash up 

Learn math 

Call your mom

You mentally cross out math, pretending it never existed. Still, you know you will have to come back to it. To this day, you weren’t sure why you decided to take another math semester when you didn’t have to. You were naive when you listened to your parents and signed up for “the only important class you will need in the future.” You had to scoff every time now when you remembered your mother’s words, knowing you wouldn’t ever need the formulas you were learning. 

Sighing, you get up from the couch and look around the living room. Looking at it now, you understand why Taehyun always wants you to have your work organized. It was a mess. 

Your fingers run through your hair before you pick up a few of your books and put them aside in the corner of the table so that other people can still use it. It also reminds you that you should clean around the house with Taehyun soon. 

But for now, there was the current to-do list you had to go through. 

You grab Taehyun’s clothes basket from his room, as you did many times before, kicking the door behind you so it would close before continuing towards your shared bathroom. 

Having a shared bathroom might have been the only disadvantage of living with Taehyun. You both tried to search for a bigger place so you could each get your own, but once you saw the prices, you both decided it was only a petite inconvenience. 

It doesn’t take you long to sort out all of his and your clothes by colors, leaving Tae’s underwear in the basket for him to do later on his own. You don't mind doing his laundry, just like he doesn't mind doing yours, but there are still limits to what you are willing to do for him. Even though those lines sometimes seem blurry in your eyes.

You aren't sure when or how it happened, but lately, you've found yourself wanting to step over some of the lines you had set for yourself when you first decided to room with Taehyun.

Maybe it was because of how comfortable you got with each other after half a year of living together. Perhaps it was because Tae had become your best friend over the years you knew him. Or, more likely, it was actually because of the amount of times you had seen him shirtless.

“We are friends, Ma. You don’t have to worry about me getting pregnant or something just because I am rooming with a guy. And you have met him many times. You know how Tae is.” You remember the call you had with your mom after you moved in, rethinking all your words. You were so sure back then that nothing could ever happen between the two of you, but a small part of you always wished for something else. 

You snap out of your thoughts, pressing the start button on your washing machine with a sigh. You step over the pile of white clothing you had prepared for the next wash, getting to the shower. You pull down your panties and shirt, hanging them on the empty peg beside your towel. 

♡⸝⸝ 

Taehyun was too exhausted to go to the gym tonight. He had enough. From missing lunch because he lost track of time while reviewing for his upcoming exam to completely forgetting about an assignment due last night. He just wanted to go home and relax for a bit before he would have to fall into the endless circle of studying again. 

So when he got through the door of your shared apartment, his first thought was to shower and go to sleep. He didn’t think much of what you were doing as he took down his shoes. Honestly, that was what he was the least worried about. 

Taehyun shakes his head as his eyes land on your books on the table, but then a smile creeps up his lips. You did listen when he scolded you about making a mess, after all. 

He looks around the apartment, trying to find you with his eyes. Eventually, his sight lands on your room, assuming you didn’t hear him coming in and were busy with your studies, so you didn’t come out to greet him. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

He doesn’t even properly register the sound of the washing machine as he walks toward the bathroom. For the first time in a while, his mind is finally blank, making him relax as he opens the door. 

Neither of you really realizes what’s going on until you drop down your shampoo, your eyes wide as you quickly try to cover your naked body upon noticing your roommate in the room. 

Taehyun’s cheeks could be mistaken for a tomato as his eyes travel from the bottom of your body to your face, swallowing everything he wants to say before even opening his mouth, stuttering. “I– shit, fuck– uhm, sorry,” he blurts out quickly, turning around so he wouldn’t face you. He doesn’t leave, though. 

 You can’t hear your own breath, nor his, as you stare at his back, your mind, unlike Tae’s, clouded with thoughts. “I wanted to shower. I’m– I didn’t know you were in here,” he says, you think. You’re unsure if any of the words actually reach your ears or if it’s all just in your head. Maybe he is just a figment of your imagination, too. He isn’t real. He isn’t standing in the bathroom with his back turned to you. 

“I’ve been so out of it today I just– I’m not sure what I am saying, to be honest. I didn’t mean to, though–” 

You cut him off, your words echoing in his ears. Still, he doesn’t believe what he just heard. “What?” He asks, his boba eyes making you feel weak in the knees as he turns around to face you again. “You wanted to shower and relax your mind, right?” You repeat half your question, your hands slowly falling to your sides. Taehyun bites his bottom lip, fighting all his inner demons to keep his eyes on yours. “Want to join me then?” 

You’re not sure what happens next. It’s all blurry in your mind. But the next thing you know, Taehyun’s hands are all over your body, “helping you to wash up,” as he said, but you both know that’s not what it really is when his hand just so innocently squeezes your breast. 

Your breath shakes as you feel him groan against your shoulder, sending shivers through your body. You tilt your head to the side, biting your bottom lip to prevent a moan from escaping your lips as he kisses your collarbone, his cold fingers playing with your nipples as if he had touched them thousands of times before, as if he wasn’t afraid at all of the sudden intimacy. 

“Tae,” you breathe out, and he only hums in response, his lips on your neck. “Are you okay with this?” He asks carefully, making it almost impossible for you to tell him no. So you nod, whining when his fingers trace down from your chest to your legs, making their way to your clit. “You’re so wet,” he mumbles. 

“S-shut up,” your voice shakes as you try to grind against his fingers, muffling your moan when he removes his hand. Your pussy clenches around nothing when your name leaves his lips, his kisses moving lower on your back until you hear him kneel behind you. You swallow a lump in your throat when his hands wrap around your thighs, the water drops on your back sending shivers through your body. “Mind bending over for me, sweetheart?” 

It feels unreal. Your roommate’s head between your legs, eating you out as if you were supposed to be tonight’s dinner, was all a little too much. You weren’t sure how long you could last. “Wait– I’m–” you try to speak up but end up swallowing everything you wanted to say when his tongue gets replaced by his fingers. You gasp, your hand slowly sliding down on the bathroom tiles as you begin to lose strength. You don’t think he notices, or at least he doesn’t do anything about it. His fingers pump into you so effortlessly, too. Somehow, it feels like he has been in your cunt many times before. 

Your first orgasm of the night is on Taehyun’s fingers, preparing you for himself. “Doing so well,” he coos, slowly standing up. It takes no time for his lips to find your neck again, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. “‘S too much,” you whine, turning your head around to see him. His boba eyes are soft, full of love even, you’d dare to say. 

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes out when his eyes land on yours, immediately kissing you. You fall into the kiss, turning around to face him. Taehyun takes a step forward, making you press your back against the wet tiles. The water dripping between the two of you doesn’t seem to bother him a bit as he wraps your leg around his waist. 

You are still kissing him when he aligns himself at your entrance, thrusting into you without a warning. You gasp, breaking the kiss. His lips chase after yours again, but you’re too busy trying to get used to him to kiss him back. “So good,” he praises you again, his mouth moving to your jaw and chin. You tilt your head to the side, trying to keep as quiet as possible as he thrusts into you again, starting slowly, with his eyes on yours to make sure you are okay. 

You nod to him instinctively, and he thrusts into you right away, this time faster, harsher. It doesn’t take long for him to set a comfortable speed, and you can feel all his stress in each thrust. “I needed this,” he mumbles. “Needed you.” 

It almost passes unnoticed by you, just some out-of-mind praises, but you catch onto it, and his words get stuck in your head. “N–Needed me?” Your question comes out as a broken moan, making him groan. “The whole day,” he agrees, only thrusting harder. “Everyone’s been getting on my nerves,” he explains. “Couldn’t wait to come home to you.” 

The ticklish feeling in your stomach makes you uneasy. You’re not sure if it’s another orgasm building up or just an after-effect of his words. Honestly, it might be both. But before you can think about it properly, another thrust comes in, with a few mumbles about how perfect you are before you feel his speed slowing down again, letting you know he is reaching his limit, too. 

It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts before he cums inside you, both of you too into the moment to realize he should pull out. Taehyun’s head falls onto your shoulder, but he doesn’t stop holding your leg up, assuring himself he still feels you on his body. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he breathes out, and before you can answer, you feel his teeth digging into the skin on your shoulder. 

You gasp, “What was that for?” He only hums in response, as if he had no idea what you were referring to. “A mark,” he finally mutters, making your eyes widen. “Wanted to mark you.” He says it so casually, while his hand slides between your bodies, circling your clit slowly again. You swallow a moan as his finger makes its way into your pussy again, feeling the mixture of his and your cum sliding down your thigh. You need another shower. 

You stay still for a bit, his head resting on your shoulder and your leg wrapped around his waist while your fingers play with his hair to assure him you are still there, not saying anything. 

You step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself immediately. You keep your eyes on his naked body, rethinking your next moves. “I need your help with math,” you proclaim quietly like you normally would. “I’ll gladly help you,” he nods with a smile. So happy, and for what? He was never rude about it when you asked for his help, but it wasn’t like he would be excited, either. This time, however, he makes you question what’s going on in his mind. 

“Here,” he says, the same smile still on his lips as he hands you your shirt and panties. “I didn’t know you were already wearing my stuff, but I can’t say I would complain,” he teases you, and it all finally clicks. Of course, that’s why you didn’t remember owning the shirt. It wasn’t yours in the first place. “Uhm–” you panic, trying to find a good excuse, but it’s already too late because all Taehyun can think about is the adorable blush on your cheeks.

TXT ⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @love-be0m @virgo-and-libra @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @minaateez ✶⋆

Want to get notified? Join taglist here !

[lia-linny]

summary: How do you get a guys who always fails to pass his final exams? Quite simply, you promise him a date.

genre: fluff, highschool au

words: 4.3k

Ms. yln and Mr. Yang, please stay to see me after class." yn heard her professor say as she carefully filed her documents from the previous lesson in her folder and put it in her school bag. After she had also packed her pencils, she made her way to the desk as instructed by her professor. With her head bowed, she made her way through the rows, between her talking and packing classmates, some of whom smiled at her in a friendly manner.

When she came to a halt in front of her professor, her gaze fell directly on Yang Jeongin, who was leaning casually against the wall next to the desk in his stylish baggy clothes. His penetrating gaze was on her and she nervously clutched her books, which she had pressed to her chest, while she now looked at her professor, who was still sorting through his papers. When he had carefully organized them, he turned to his two waiting students and smiled kindly as he pulled two sheets of paper from his folder.

Ah, so there was her essay, yn realized. She had wondered why she had come away empty-handed when the professor had handed out the corrected texts.

"Once again, you have delivered an outstanding text, ms yln. It really was one of the best texts I have ever read on the subject at school. Your formulations and observations are truly remarkable." smiling, yn looked at the red score in the top right-hand corner of her text, which read 100/100.

But she didn't have time to thank her professor for his kind words, as he immediately went to return Jeongin's text as well. Yn caught a glimpse of the pages covered with corrections written in red pen and could clearly make out the score on his paper, 18/100. yn felt her heart grow heavy with pity and looked down at the floor in shame.

"Mr. Yang you have to do better or you won't pass your final exams. I've heard that you don't exactly excel in other subjects with my colleagues either. You have potential but you have to work harder." There was a brief, awkward silence, but when Jeongin looked up from his paper, neither the poor grade nor the professor's words seemed to bother him much. He merely shrugged his shoulders and buried his hands deep in his trouser pockets. Her professor sighed, but continued.

"That's why I think it would be a good idea for you to seek tutoring. If you want to pass your exams, you need to study and since it seems to me that you share almost all your classes with ms. Yln, it would be an incredible opportunity for you to get tutoring from her. So if ms. yln would be so kind and give up her time for you, you should definitely take this chance!" With that, he ended his little lecture and shooed them both out of his classroom with a curt wave of his hand and a smile.

They stood awkwardly next to each other outside the door, not quite sure what or who should say something, until yn decided to break the silence.

"I can tutor you if you want, but you can find someone more qualified if you prefer..." Jeongin laughed and tapped his index finger on the essay with her books pressed against her chest, as if that was proof enough that she was probably good enough for the job.

"Is Friday a good fit for you?" he asked and yn just nodded dumbly, not sure how to deal with the situation.

"Great. I'll come to your place after school." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you." He winked goodbye to her and walked to his popular group of friends, who were standing just a few meters away from them in the corridor crowded with students, leaving a red-faced yn behind. Why did such a banal gesture from him and the thought of the upcoming tutoring sessions have such an impact on her that even after her next lesson had already started and she was hunched over her papers in the classroom, she could still feel her pulse racing?

It wasn't completely absurd. Jeongin was popular, cool and casual. But even though he was one of the good-looking boys that everyone adored, he was always nice and helpful and yn liked that, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He sometimes acted like he was the coolest, but the next moment he tripped over his own feet and was restlessly teased by his friends and that made him likeable.

Yn ran her hands through her hair with a sigh and buried her face in her hands. Oh God, it was all such a huge cliche. She couldn't help but rool her eyes at herself. The girl that had never even given a second thought to a boy and then the 'one' came along. She should be concentrating on the lesson that had already started rather than thinking about boys. It was a waste of time to deal with such things. Her focus, especially now that she was in her final year, should be on grades and studying. Not some fictional romance.

But there was something about Jeongin that had piqued yn's interest for years. All the years they had been going to school together, attending classes together and occasionally having short conversations on the bus or in the hallway, yn had always wished she could be closer with him. She couldn't quite define it, but Jeongin had an attractive aura in her eyes. Yn shook her head and mentally returned to the lesson. Even though she already had a nervous feeling in her stomach when she thought about friday. Maybe because she had a feeling that Jeongin might be the person who could destroy her efforts to always put learning above personal relationships.

~☆~

Nervously, yn plucked at her skirt, which she thought was a little too short, and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her and Jeongin's last lesson for Friday had just ended. She didn't know what to expect. She had talked to Jeongin again and again over the week. Small talk that left her nervous and embarrassed, already regretting what she had just said, or rather stuttered.

She stuffed all the books and documents she wanted to go through with Jeongin into her school bag and stowed the rest in her locker. She was just about to close the locker door when she felt an arm around her shoulders. Startled, her head whirled around and she stared directly into Jeongin's amused face.

"Hey beautiful, ready to try and teach me something?" He laughed and Yn felt her cheeks glow with heat as he grinned mischievously at her. One of his friends, Hyunjin, with whom Yn was attending her art class, shouted across the corridor to her

"Good luck! We've all given up and come to the conclusion that Jeongin has the IQ of a walnut." Together with one of hid friends, Minho, he laughed at the comparison.

"I'll do my best." So she just mumbled, smiled shyly at him and buried her nose in her book as if it were her shield. She made her way to the bus stop, as she did every day. Jeongin walked silently beside her and used the pleasant silence to look at yn. At first she didn't notice that he was staring, but when she caught his gaze in the corner of her eye, she became even more nervous.

When the two of them arrived, the bus was already waiting and yn climbed through the door as usual to drop into one of the seats at the back. Jeongin sat down in the empty seat next to her. He casually let his backpack slide to the floor and made himself comfortable in his seat. Yn couldn't turn away from him. Why did he have to look so cool as he absently ran his fingers through his hair and now looked over at her. Their eyes crossed... but the moment was ruined by the bus driving off, which left Yn unmoved and equally unimpressed, but caused Jeongin to lose his balance from the unexpected jolt and hit his head on the seat in front of him. Gone was the cool and casual aura that had just surrounded him. After yn made sure that he was okay and that he had no injuries other than to his ego, she let out a snort.

"Just for your information, that looked incredible ridiculous." She laughed and even though his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful her laugh was, how her eyes lit up or her dimples showed.

"Hey, I never look ridiculous!" He said, playfully offended, and poked her in the side. From that moment on, the slight tension that had previously lingered in the air fell away from them completely. They chatted casually for the rest of the bus ride and when they finally arrived at Yn's house, they were greeted by her mother.

Yn showed Jeongin the way to her room. After opening the door, she put her backpack down next to her desk. Meanwhile, Jeongin inspected her room a little more closely. It was nicely furnished but kept relatively simple. No colors that stood out, no cluttered shelves, nothing that really seemed to say 'this is yn's room'. He couldn't deduce any hobbies or favorite music from her room and that puzzled him.

"What hobbies do you have?" he asked out of nowhere. Yn turned to him and looked at him in surprise.

"Why do you ask?" She laughed and Jeongin sat down on her bed without being asked.

"You know, usually one can tell what people our age like to do or what music or films they are into when you look at their room. Posters or some sports trophies or something, but there's nothing in your room. Your room is so... impersonal." Yn let her gaze wander to the floor and shrugged her shoulders in response.

"Well... I'm actually just studying all day... so I don't have much time for hobbies." Silence followed. Jeongin had always thought that she was one of those students to whom everything came naturally, who always got top grades without having to do anything. But it seemed that she sacrificed a lot for her good average, especially her youth.

"What would you like to do? Is there nothing you enjoy?" She hesitated for a moment, then dropped onto the bed next to him and replied hesitantly,

"Well... I like taking photos." He had to smile, but before he said anything back, he changed the subject.

"So, shall we start studying?" she asked and was glad that he seemed to understand and didn't ask any more questions.

When Jeongin went home, it was already dark and yn had to admit to herself that the past few hours had shown her that learning could also be fun. Jeongin had made a real effort to follow her explanations and had always lightened the mood and joked around with her during short breaks. Even though, or perhaps because, he sometimes seemed to talk faster than he thought, she had rarely laughed as much as she did with him and the mere thought of how his hand had brushed against hers a few times made her giggle in retrospect.

One thing was certain. She was looking forward to the coming tutoring sessions, even if he was turning her into a clichéd teenage girl who was incapable of anything except drooling over guys.

~☆~

The weeks of the school year just flew by. Every Friday, yn gave Jeongin tutoring. Usually in the small café not far from the school. Jeongin had shown it to her during one of their lunch breaks, which they spent together more and more often. Every week while they were studying together, yn ordered a milkshake and a chocolate chip cookie. Jeongin insisted on paying to thank her for tutoring, but yn refused to accept the offer, which led to Jeongin deciding that the loser of rock paper scissors had to pay. This always managed to make yn laugh when she and Jeongin had a dramatic battle and the winner made fun of the loser a little too much afterwards.

The two of them hit it off straight away. It was as if something had just clicked between them. They teased each other and laughed about trivial topics. Jeongin's grades improved dramatically, even though he was still only just about to fail. But no matter how much fun yn had at her tutoring sessions, she couldn't forget that her final exams were getting closer with every passing week, so she spent the remaining days of the week holed up in the city library. It wasn't as if she had much else to do. She had no close friends she wanted to hang out with, no hobbies she wanted to pursue and she turned down almost all of Jeongin's invitations to meet up outside of her tutoring. Because no matter how much she wanted to hang out with him, there was always this little voice in the back of her head telling her that she should be studying instead of having fun.

~☆~

Like every other day, yn walked to the bus stop after school to go to the nearby library, but today she was called back by Jeongin in the parking lot. Puzzled, she turned around and saw him waving his car keys in the air, almost dropping them, which made Chris next to him laugh. He had to chuckle himself, even though an embarrassed blush adorned his cheeks.

"I've got a car now. If you want, I can drive you to the library... I promise that i won't disturb you." He giggled. It wasn't an arrogant 'I have a car' like most guys at her school would say but a pragmatic fact and yn liked that a little too much. That he didn't have to brag or boast about what an expensive car he drove, but simply offered her a ride. Her cheeks flushed pink as Jeongin's friends began to whistle and playfully run their hands through his hair.

"I never thought our baby would pull a girl." one of his friends laughed. yn thought she remembered that his name was Seungmin. Jeongin pushed him away.

"You're not even a year older than me." he laughed.

"You're still our baby!" roared one of his other friends, called Changbin. Jeongin struggled away from his friends and stood in front of yn, embarrassed.

"Please let's just go!" He sight a little annoyed by his friends. She smiled at him and nodded. He led her to his car and took a seat behind the steering wheel while she made herself comfortable in the passenger seat. The drive to the library was relaxed. The two of them had a casual conversation and laughed. Jeongin made her feel a certain lightness that made her skin tingle and her cheeks glow.

He parked right in front of the building and together they strolled into the old house. Yn immediately spread out her things in their usual place and Jeongin dropped into the chair next to her. Yn began to study, going through notes and researching background information in books. But one thing kept throwing her off track. Jeongin, who didn't even try to observe her unobtrusively but stared at her shamelessly as she studied. She felt her hot cheeks despite the cool temperatures in the unheated library.

Carefully, Jeongin let his hand slip over hers and the next moment he intertwined their fingers. Yn looked up from her notes and held her breath. Jeongin grinned at her shyly but with a certain self-confidence and Yn felt her rapid heartbeat pounding against her ribs. She carefully brushed a strand of hair from her face and forced herself to turn her gaze away from him. After all, she had to concentrate. But that was easier said than done. His warm hand, which lay protectively in hers, blocked any logical processes in her brain. After another half hour of trying to concentrate on English literature, she gave up and packed her things.

She was surprised that Jeongin hadn't fallen asleep yet, but he seemed more than happy to escape the library, which made her giggle. After she had put everything away, they walked to his car together, got in and he drove her home. When he parked in the driveway of her house, she smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you for driving me. You really didn't have to do that."

"I know... I just don't want you sitting alone in that book hell every day. Otherwise you'll go crazy." He laughed. His eyes turned into little crescent moons as he smiled at her and she felt her pulse quicken all the way to her ears. In response, she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She said before opening the passenger door and climbing out of the car. Jeongin waited, his cheeks red and his heart pounding, until he saw that she had arrived safely at the house. Then he started his car and left a happily grinning yn behind.

~☆~

It became a little ritual between them that Jeongin would take her to the library after school, she would often study there until late in the evening, they would pick up take-out food together from one of the nearby restaurants, eat it in Jeongin's car or on one of the park benches and then Jeongin would drive her home. And yn loved this routine together with him.

She loved being with Jeongin and talking to him. He treated her better than anyone had ever treated her before. He looked out for her and cared for her, just as she cared for him. Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder when he would get too bored with her or find someone better. Probably because she hadn't quite realized how important she had become to Jeongin.

He made effort to get her to do other things, then studying, and tried to get her interested in her old hobbies again. For example, he had brought back her passion for photography. One day, while he was taking her to the library to study, he had stopped at a random field of flowers on the side of the road. Yn had looked at him, puzzled, as he climbed out of the car and ran out into the field, laughing happily.

"Come on! I need new photos for Instagram!" He laughed as he turned on his axis to fully take in the beautiful view of the flowers. The whole scene stretching out in front of her was too beautiful not to capture. So she climbed out of the car. She hesitantly pulled her phone out of her pocket and swiped the screen to open the camera. She looked through the lens, moved a little to find the perfect angle for her subject and then snapped a few pictures.

As she lowered her camera, Jeongin came running back to her and put his arm around her to get a better look at her work.

"Wow, I didn't know you were that good." He laughed as he swiped through the pictures on her phone.

"They look amazing!" he grinned at her and yn's cheeks turned red, whether from the compliments, the physical closeness or his sweet grin...

"Thank you." She mumbled, discarding Jeongin's face that hovered dangerously close to hers. He was still looking at her phone to see the pictures, but when he lifted his gaze, he found himself only a few centimeters away from yn's face.

They gazed into each other's eyes unable to say or do anything until Jeongin gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She didn't know who had made the first move but suddenly they were kissing. Yn felt her whole body on fire as their lips moved in unison. Carefully, she clasped her hands behind his neck, afraid he would slip from her grasp at any moment.

The kiss ended far too soon as they were both gasping for breath. But as a finale, Jeongin gave her a little peck on the lips. He pulled her closer to him, enjoying her body heat and drawing gentle circles on her back as they both caught their breath smiling.

A day later, Jeongin had uploaded the pictures from their little photo shoot on Instagram with the caption: 'My favorite photographer', giggling as she liked the post.

And with that she rediscovered her love of photography. Sometimes she took photos of Jeongin, sometimes she met a cat on the street and snapped a picture of it, and sometimes she used trees or other plants that she wanted to capture with her camera as a motif. These little moments sweetened her monotonous school day and Jeongin watched her happily as she went through the pictures on her little digital camera, proud that he could help her to have at least a little better 'school-life balance' and to have a few hobbies outside of learning.

~☆~

It was yn's last week before her final exams and yet, against all expectations, she found herself relaxing on a picnic blanket in the municipal park. Jeongin had persuaded her to study outside with him because the weather was so nice and she didn't regret it. Smiling, she looked up at the clear sky and let the sun's rays shine on her face. Jeongin lay down next to her on the blanket, the math problems that he was supposed to solve for practice forgotten by both of them.

Carefully, yn took her hand in his and looked at him, lost in thought. His eyes, blinded by the bright sun, were narrowed to slits, making him look like a smiley face. His lips curled into a grin. Why did she have this strong urge to lean over and kiss him?

"You're staring." he laughed without looking in her direction and she blushed like a tomato. Abruptly, she averted her eyes and sat up, hiding behind the math book in order to look distracted. Jeongin had to laugh even harder at the sight of her.

This finally made her feel like one of those teenage girls who had nothing better to do than ogle guys all day, and even though she was particularly ashamed of it in this situation, she couldn't help but notice again how beautiful his laugh was.

Silence returned, in which neither of them could stop thinking about the other.

"When are you finally going out with me?" He said it as if it was a banal question that didn't make her heart stop and she knew he was just as nervous as she was. She could tell by the way he tugged at his shirt and nibbled his fingernails. So if he could fake his cool, she'd been able to do it for a long time.

"If you pass your final exams." They both pretended they weren't just grinning happily at each other because they'd basically just set up an unofficial date and continued to play their casual facade, giggling. But inside, they could hardly grasp how lucky they were with the other person. So Jeongin sat up, ran his fingers through his hair and leaned over the book that yn was still holding.

"Then I guess I'd better keep studying."

~☆~

Yn couldn't believe how quickly everything had gone. No sooner had she written her exams than her graduation ceremony had arrived. A few hours ago, she had received her certificate as the best in her year and now she was sitting on one of the bar stools in the club where her class's graduation party was being held.

Then she felt an arm around her shoulder and she was pulled closer to the stranger, whom she quickly recognized as Jeongin. She snuggled up to his body and he grinned at her. Carefully, he pressed his lips to hers. But before he could say anything, the little moment between them was interrupted by his friends bursting in, all cavorting in front of the two of them.

"Hey Aien!" Chris greeted the youngest member of their group. This was followed by teasing whistles at the sight of Jeongin's arm, which was now resting on her waist.

"We're finally free man! No more school stress!" Jisung raised his fist in the air exaggeratedly.

"And our baby is growing up!" Hyunjin sobbed as he wiped his non-existent tears from his eyes, whereupon Jeongin just shook his head and buried his face in the crook of yn's neck in shame.

His whole group of friends was pure chaos but at the same time felt like a second family where you could just be yourself.

"How the hell did you manage to get our hopeless case here to pass the exams?!" asked Seungmin yn, flicking Jeongin parallel against the back of the head. Everyone laughed and yn had to grin too, especially when she saw the mock indignant expression on Jeongin's face.

"Well, I promised him a date." She said with a laugh, causing even more chaos. Everyone shouted and laughed, made comments or was simply happy for them, but what mattered to yn was the love sick grin on Jeongin's face. Their eyes met and they beamed happily at each other. They all had different plans now that they had graduated, but it was clear that yn and Jeongin would go their ways together.

[keyaho]

summary: nami gets a bit beside herself. terry's control snaps and he gets a little petty.

word count: 4k

graphics by @firefly-graphics & @cafekitsune

authors note: this is for the brats. not the ones that know they are brats, but the ones where it just....slips out accidentally and you "have to see it through ma boy".

Part One || Part Two

“Stop watching my hands.” 

Nami looked down at the organic chemistry book in front of her. She was sitting at Terry’s dining table, to the left of where he spanked her last night. There were no hooks in the table and sitting somewhere normal felt odd. The numbers had long since blurred and every time she looked back to the problem she was working on she was confused. Reading through the problem from the beginning, she quickly found her place, scribbling with her mechanical BIC pencil until she was at the end when her thoughts began to wander. 

Terry’s eyes were on the television, his body stretched out on the couch. One arm was tossed on top of his head and his black sweats cuffed around the ankles. His shirt was embellished with ‘marine’ in thick white letters. Something was on tv, but she couldn’t remember the name of the series. He was two episodes in and silent about it. You should be studying instead of watching tv anyway. Terry hadn’t taken his eyes off the tv once since turning it on. He hadn’t moved either and the tent in his sweats was getting larger. She had earned her first Play Time.

This was the most relaxed she had been in a while when it came to her studies. 

“What number are you on,’ he asked, finally turning his hazel eyes to her. 

She sat in the chair wearing just one of his shirts. It was currently eight-thirty and Terry claimed to have plans for them later this afternoon. When he learned she needed to study, he took her home to get her study materials, clothes, and anything else she needed. He waited on the couch with arms stretched over the back of it like he lived there. 

Out of twenty questions, the easy ones she breezed through, she had finished sixteen. The last four were multi-step and required a deeper understanding of the material. 

“Sixteen.” She replied. 

“Still?” 

It wasn’t like he was offering to help and she didn’t even know if he understood anything about organic chemistry. Hell, she barely did. Looking down at the smudged paper where she almost erased a hole into it, she sighed, dropping her pencil to rub her temples. 

“You’ve been over there tapping that calculator and shit,’ he sat up just enough to place the tv remote on the table. “I figured you were one from done.” 

He swung his feet to the floor and stood up, but walked towards the kitchen. He opened his fridge as she looked down at the textbook angrily. This was the one class she hated the most. She sat comfortably with a B in it. Just enough to pass for the credit towards her degree. 

He grabbed two waters and walked towards her. Placing one on the table beside her books, he stood behind her. Terry leaned forward, his head resting on her shoulder before his lips found her neck. He had pulled her hair to the side, sucked on her flesh while she tried to focus on the problem at hand and not the one causing a problem between her legs. 

Nami slid her hand to the side. It was the first time her hands weren’t bound or held and she wanted to touch him. She had tasted him twice, but being able to feel him in her hands had her thought’s racing. Perceptive, Terry grabbed her wrist and brought it to his lips. 

“Am I distracting you?” He asked. 

Nami didn’t want to say yes. He had a habit of going into the room and closing the door. That wasn’t what she wanted. 

“No, it’s just….hard.” 

Terry laughed softly and pulled her up from the chair. Turning it so the back was against the table he sat down and pulled her to straddle his lap. His hands landed on her thighs. 

“Pick up the pencil.” 

He pulled her left arm behind her back, keeping it still while the other palmed her sore ass. 

“Work through the problem.” 

He hiked up the shirt until it was bunched around her waist and rubbed her thighs. Pressed up against him this way she had to be still. Nami started from the top and soon realized her mistake from previous attempts. She erased again, correcting herself and finding the rhythm to finish the problem. She double checked her work before moving on, slightly uncomfortable with her arm in his wrist behind her back. Terry’s hand crept under the shirt and cupped her breast, his thumb then worked back and forth over her nipple, tugging it just enough her breath hitched. He kissed along her jaw and neck, tugging downwards on her nipple until she let out a pained sound. Her hips jerked forward and he swatted her ass, his hand leaving her breast exposed and cold. 

“Keep that ass still.” 

Nami began the next problem, cycled through it while Terry reached for her breast again. This time his hips moved. It was slow at first. Teasingly slow. 

“You want to know something,’ he says, his hips bucking upwards as he holds her still, ‘I know this pussy is good.” 

He grinned as she struggled to keep still. “You want to know how I know?” He asked. 

“Yea, Sir,’ she breathed. 

“Because you don’t know what the fuck to do with it.” 

She moaned as his fingers dragged towards her clit from the back. 

“This pussy leaks, drips, and cries. Every time I look at it, it’s so fucking wet You need my dick don’t you?”

“Yessss Sir.” 

“I know. I know.” Terry began playing with her clit, his grip on her arm tightening. “S’okay,’ he slurred, ‘I’m going to teach you.” 

Nami let out a long sigh to disguise her moan. 

“Didn’t I say stop watching my hands?” Terry’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. 

Nami jumped, wiped the drool on the side of her lip and stared down at her paper. She looked down at herself and realized she had zoned out and imagined him that close. He was still stretched out on the couch across the room from her. 

He flicked his eyes back to the tv.  “What number are you on?” 

Nami flipped back to the previous page, opting for a little white lie, her day dreams had her wanting to make them a reality. Fuck the homework. She wanted him. 

“Nineteen,’ she looked up and saw his eyes on her. Grabbing the calculator, she input the problems components and began equating them on her paper. She’d finish them when she was home and away from his presence, but she wanted to pretend to be trying to finish. 

“When you’re done, come here.” 

Nami’s hand snaked between her legs moments later, just grazing her bare cunt. Fuck. She held a sheet of paper in her hands and since her bag was between her legs on the floor she could-

”Aye!” Terry snapped. “Touch my pussy if you want to.” He looked at her. “Hands on the table.”  

She worked her mouth into a frown as he scolded her. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she sat back in her chair, dragging it across the floor to get closer to the table. She threw her elbow on the table before her arm fell flat on the wood surface. She snatched up the calculator and used it to cover face, pretending to need it that close to use it. The movements were so fluid that Terry’s brow shot up. Oh? 

Who the fuck was she getting an attitude with? Terry thought. 

“Chill.” Terry replied instead, brushing off the exchange. 

Nami looked up at him and gave a shrug, no verbal reply followed. Terry’s hand twitched. Staying quiet, Terry sat up, and grabbed the remote before turning off the tv. Nami suddenly scratched at an itch in him to correct. He had learned early on that when it came to submissiveness, black women couldn’t entirely let go of their attitudes and when they popped up they were often mislabeled as brats. Nami wasn’t a brat. She just had an attitude and clearly it needed adjusting. She was testing his patience. His control. Him. She was testing him. 

Normally, a verbal correction could shape all that up. However, she wasn’t responding to him. Nami replied with her body and it was irking him. This wasn’t about him in the end. She wanted him to react. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted the correction and she had no idea what it looked like. 

“That’s definitely strike two.” He told her. “Why you playin’ right now? You fucking up your Play Time.” 

Terry had planned to indulge in one of her kinks and finally taste that pussy. Why would she want to mess that up? 

"What number are you on, Nami?" With all this playing she had better be done. 

“I’m not done.” 

“Did I fucking ask that?” Terry’s resolve shattered and he stood up. 

Nami watched him approach, his fingers rubbing together to tether himself. His restraint was slipping. He let out a long breath through his nose. 

“No.” 

“No?” He repeated as if giving her a clear chance to turn all this around. 

“No.” Her shoulders shrugged.

 Terry reached out before he could stop himself and fisted his hand into her hair. 

“Get up.”  Terry lifted her to her feet with his grip on her hair. It was just tight enough to guide her to her feet without pulling. He didn’t want to make her cry. Well, not right now. 

He suddenly released her hair and took a step back. His shoulders rolled as he craned his neck side to side, stretching out. She stood there, rubbing the back of her head in just his shirt. He could push her to her knees and have her swallow his load over and over. He could choke her on his dick, spank her until she cried, but she wanted that. This just wasn’t the way to get it. 

Scratching his chin, he took a seat back on the couch. 

“Pack up.” He pointed towards her stuff. “I’m going to take you back home.” 

He dropped her cuffs back into the drawer and stood to go find his shoes. He stepped into his bedroom leaving her there with her mouth half open. She didn’t want to leave, that's not what she wanted him to do. She wanted his hands on her, bringing her to the cusp of an orgasm so she could feed the itch between her legs. Nami wanted him to touch her and move her the way he wanted. Instead, she watched his retreating back.

He didn’t close the bedroom door this time but she knew entering would make things worse. Huffing, she returned to her seat and put her bag on the table. She started shoving her things back into it and didn’t notice that he had stepped to his door and leaned against it, watching her. His arms folded over his chest and let his new toy dangle from his fingers. The leather was cool in his hands, but he was sure once it was used it would warm right up. 

“So you can listen?” He says as she yanks the zipper on her bag closed. 

Nami looked up a full pout on her full lips. “Yes, Sir,’ she whispered. 

“Huh?” He said, cupping his ear. “That apology needs to be as loud as that attitude was. Don’t get all shy now.” He saw her eyes wandering to his hands and he snapped his fingers. “Look at me.” 

“We’re about to talk about boundaries. Cause you are pushing some buttons today and I want to wear that ass out. Last night would be a cake walk. You won’t be able to sit when I’m done with you.” 

“You told me you were about to take me home.” Nami replied. “We can talk about it next time.” If he was going to say something she was going to make him stand on it. She figured that since he was taking her home she could speak freely. 

Big mistake. 

“Nami,’ he sighed, ‘I’m giving you a chance to fix your attitu-’

“I don’t have an attitude.” 

If there was ever a moment for a record scratch now was it. Terry laughed, it didn’t reach his eyes, but the sound sounded joyous. He pushed off the door frame and walked towards her. Nami’s eyes dropped to his crotch. Oh shit. His dick was still swinging side to side as he walked, but it was not hard. Not like she had thought it would be. Not like last night. He was serious.

“Yeah, that shit aint cute.” 

When he was in front of her, she looked up at him. Feeling his body heat as he worked his tongue around his mouth. His jaw ticked and she so badly wanted to reach out and touch him. She hated that rule. 

“I’m not trying to be cute.” 

With some restraint, Terry grabbed her face by the jaw, his fingers pressed into the flesh there as he guided her to sit on the couch. 

“Nami, shut the fuck up.” 

He sat on the table in front of her and she noticed the riding crop across his lap. He grabbed the front of her shirt and dragged her to the floor. She landed in a huff and he tugged on her hair, pulling her head backwards. He saw the pleasure in her face and shook his head. 

“You could have just asked me for this.” He says, his hand smacking her cheek in a test pop. “Is this what you want? You want me to rough you up?” 

Terry his hand tightened in her hair as he stood up, leaving her on her knees. He saw her hands move towards him. 

“Don’t test me, Nami.” 

He was doing a lot of talking, he realized. He was trying to diffuse the tension between them, maybe get back to what he had planned for the day, but she wasn’t making it easy on him. She placed her hands in her lap, clenching them into fists. Terry was swiftly moving this time, the crop dropping to the floor as he brought Nami back to the table. He laid her on her back this time, stretching her further across the wood. Her arms dangled over one side and her legs the other. He stopped talking, moving through cuffing her to the table with ease. She stared up at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling as she began to over think his next move. 

Terry sat on the couch and pulled the table closer to him, her added weight making no difference to him. He placed her feet on the table and spread them apart, ignoring her pussy beginning to glisten. He only stood up to push her shirt up, covering her face. Nami’s body rolled to the side in confusion, trying to shake off the shirt. 

Stinging.

He struck her with the riding crop on the outside of her thighs. Then again and again. And one more time until she realized she was supposed to be counting. The pain had jarred her mind and she couldn’t think clearly. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying. 

The cold leather rubbed between her legs, up her inner thighs, and her legs fell open from the soothing sensation. It was followed promptly by a sharp strike to her inner thigh. 

“Five, Sir, please,’ she begged this time. “It hurts…..” 

“What the fuck does that have to do with me?” 

He switched sides, the crop landing on her sensitive skin on her left. He dragged it down the valley between her breasts and delighted in the way her body shivered. Now, he was getting hard. This turned him on. He couldn’t see her face, but she was shaking her head side to side still, her arms tugging on her restraints. The cold metal cuffs bit into her skin and she almost dropped her foot from the table. 

“Six, Sir,’ she sputtered, the crop landing on the underside of her breast, her nipple nearly swatted. "No, no, no, no,no...." she whined.

She only had four more though she didn’t know it and he was going to make them count. Coming to stand behind her head, he reached between her legs with the crop and stroked her cunt with it. When the leather began to shine with her slick his hand joined by slowly spreading her wet lips apart. Like a flower she opened up, and he thumbed her clit a few times. He wanted so bad to dip his fingers into her and play in her nectar, but again ... she did what she wanted and acted up. 

“Oh, Sir,’ she moaned, hips rising to seek out his fingers. 

He drew the crop back and smacked it against her clit, the scream she let out was loud and sent blood rushing to his dick. He kept her open, stroking her down to her weeping little hole, then using the crop to remind her of the reality of the situation. 

“Eight, Sir,’ she turned her head towards her arm, the shirt in the way as she blinked through the tears. She wanted to enjoy his thick fingers but the crop ruined the sensation just as quickly as it started. 

He applied another hit to her thigh, still stroking her pussy. His fingers were drenched and when he drew his hand away the crop landed just below her clit. Her legs snapped shut around the crop, locking it in place as she cursed. 

“Ten, Sir, please….” 

“Open your fucking legs,’ he growled. “Now!” 

Her legs feel apart slowly, the red skin on her thighs beginning to welt. Terry admired his work, the way she dripped on the table and off his fingers. He left her hooked to the table and retreated to the kitchen for a bottle of water. He looked at her while he drank. Nami was bound to his coffee table like a work of art and if he didn’t have anything to do he would leave her there. Then again, his kitchen was low. He could use a few groceries. Terry soon tossed the empty bottle into the trash and clapped his hands together. Nami heard a jingle of keys and the door opening. 

“When I get back you had better work through that shit.” 

Terry arrived back at the house two hours later with lunch and food for the house. He looked to the table and saw Nami was relaxed, too relaxed. 

Dropping the bags on the table, he placed their food on the stove before tossing his keys, loudly, into the bowl he kept them on the foyer table. He walked to the table where Nami was spread out and pulled the shirt off her head. Big brown eyes, red from crying, stared back up at him. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,’ she whimpered, eyes looking away from his intense stare. 

“You’re sorry,’ he said, kneeling so they were closer to eye level. 

Terry rubbed his hand across her belly, eyeing the welts on her inner thighs. He knew her ass was still sore. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“It’s not even noon and I’ve had to punish you twice within twenty-four hours.” He stood up and unhook her arms. “Did you work through whatever little attitude you had before I left?” 

Nami sat up with his help and brought her cuffed hands between her legs as she sat up. She rested them on the table, tugging at the hem of her shirt. She winced as her legs stretched out. Her shoulders relaxed and she felt her back slump forward. 

“Yes, Sir,’ she says. 

Terry uncuffed her hands and kissed the inside of her wrists. He kissed up her arm until they were nose to nose. He lifted her head and kissed her briefly. 

“It’s way too early for you to be getting an attitude with me.” Terry grabs her jaw in his hand. “Don’t do that shit again.” 

Helping her up, he guides her to the kitchen and sits her at the counter. She places her hands on the table and he removes the cuffs. Before he walked away he stood beside her and leaned against the counter.

“What do you need from me?” 

She wanted to scream to touch him. Why couldn’t she? It was the only rule that was making her go crazy. 

“A hug.” She pouted. 

Terry smiled and pulled Nami into his arms. He kept her hands between them, flat against their bodies as he cupped the back of her head with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist. She rested against him, hoping for a bit more contact, and sighed. 

“Let’s talk.” 

Terry slanted his lips over her, kissing down her jaw and neck as he breathed in. He then slid a sheet of paper and pen across the island while walking to the other side. She looked down to see a list of kinks, ranging from vanilla to extreme chocolate. She picked up the pen as she sat. 

“Circle what you like.” 

“I haven’t done half of this,’ she admitted, wondering how to even pronounce half of these kinks. 

“Underline it if you’re curious.” He looked down at the paper. “Cross it off if it’s a no.” 

He turned his back to her and began putting away the items he bought. Organized to his liking, Terry shut the pantry door and walked to the stove. He took out his takeout boxes and remembered his order with a chuckle. Both were still warm and he plates them with his back to her. Nami was quiet as she read through the list. Many of these she was curious about and underlined them, kinks she hadn’t thought to be kinks were circled, while she made sure to circle everything she liked. Terry’s phone went off again and he turned his head slightly in the direction of it. Letting it ring, he reached into his cabinet for glasses, using water from the fridge to fill her cup. He brought that first, looking down at the paper while she ran the pen over it. 

“Dirty girl,’ he mumbled. “My hand should be a necklace,’ he reminded her with a smirk. She made sure to circle choking. 

“You’re not supposed to be looking yet.” She pulled her paper closer and used her arm to cover it while she finished up. 

Terry leaned back, giving her space, and turned back to their plates before bringing them over. He had a bowl of pasta, grilled chicken and broccoli, nothing too heavy, this early. Nami breathed in the smell of chicken and looked up. Her smile dropped when she realized what was on her plate. 

Fries. 

Chicken tenders. 

Nami looked down at the plate then back up to Terry. He stabbed his fork into the pasta before bringing it to his mouth. 

“Something wrong?” He asked. He followed her gaze to her plate. “You act like a child, I will feed you like one.” 

Nami pursed her lips, her stomach growled before she could say she wasn’t hungry. Terry smiled, and pointed towards the plate. “Eat.” 

“Do you have ketchup?” 

“The fridge.” 

As she got up, he slid her paper to his side of the island. His hazel eyes raked over the paper, making mental notes of which kinks paired well together, others he’d have to ease her into, and those he’d have to isolate and focus on individually. She was big on lack of choice if her choices of asphyxiation and sensory deprivation were any indications of it. Nami slid back in the stool watching him read through the list. Over one hundred different kinks listed and the anticipation of trying them gave her a tingling feeling.

“We’ll get to these," he pushes the paper back to her. “It’s been two days and you’ve done a lot.” He eyes her, thinking about how much fun they could be having had it not been for her moment earlier. “Does anything we’ve done so far make you uncomfortable?” 

Nami thought back to the moments leading up to now. The online chats, the first lunch, the first night together, this morning ... .all of it, and she couldn’t think of a moment that she wasn’t enjoying herself. 

“I’m confused about something,’ she says, jabbing a fry in the cold ketchup. “I mentioned the type of situation I wanted and I don’t know when one begins and the other ends. Or if-’

”I want you to get used to me as your Dominant, then things will progress. I’m learning about you.” He replies, hoping his answer isn’t aloof. She needed the truth. They were compatible so far. Blurring the lines so soon would end up bad for the both of them. 

“Oh, okay,’ she replied. “I think I get it.” 

“I don’t want you to think.” He says with a shrug, ‘I want you to let me be in control.” 

“What does that look like?” 

Terry placed his fork down. Being questioned was one thing, but Nami genuinely wanted to understand so he couldn’t be upset that she didn’t have blind faith. If anything, he was elated to know she wasn’t going to lie and take whatever he gave her, though he hoped the moment he sunk into her p-

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Terry blew out a breath. “Following my rules. You’ve been good at no panties. That’s more so for me.” He smirks. “The way your ass shakes when you walk by me is undeniable. Know that I am looking at your ass.” 

Nami reached down and tugged on her shirt. “I like making you squirm.” He lowers his voice, the rich baritone sent shivers down Nami’s spine. “I like how wet you get when I touch you. I want you to know I can easily make you feel good. If you listen to me.” 

“Are there more rules?” 

“You know my rule on what color to wear with me. If you don’t have enough I will take you out shopping.” 

Nami nodded. 

“No alcohol. I was worried when you went out. I’m glad you told me where you were. The location on your phone should always be shared with me.” He paused. “When I want you I want to know exactly where you are.” 

“No touching me,’ he reinforced. “That is an earned privilege.” 

Nami wanted to press why, but the look in his eyes changed her mind. “Yes, Sir.” 

“You’ve already learned that that pussy is mine. Don’t touch it without my permission.” He wanted her wet and weeping by the time he fucked her. He wanted her pussy sore from just the thought of getting fucked. 

Their plates emptied quickly and Nami sipped on her water. 

“Most of the spaces we will be in together, I require you to be seen and not heard.” His tone grew serious. “I frequently visit play parties, mostly to see what’s new and whether or not it’s something I would do. Usually I am alone, but you’ll be going with me. Those nights I can’t be your boyfriend.” At those parties, Terry lurked in the background. He tried to avoid being the center of attention, but once one person saw him and spread it, there was no hiding. 

“Do you participate?” 

“Are you interested in voyeurism? Do you like being watched?” 

“No, Sir,’ she says. 

“Then no. I don’t.” 

He didn’t seem to mind that she realized. She tried to think of more questions but she wanted Terry to push her limits. She knew her safe word. 

“Nami.” 

She looked up, her curls wild as she pushed them over her shoulder and behind her ears. She was so fucking pretty. He remembered her tears and the way they ran down her cheek as her body sought more from him, betraying her displayed emotions. He wanted that again. The tears and the way her body sought more from him with each swat to her smooth skin. The way she choked on his dick the first night, how her throat just opened up to swallow him. 

“Above all, I need you to trust me. You have your safe word.” 

Taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings

@mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites

@browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

@captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr

@beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina

@randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated @gg-trini

[kellysue]

The Suit-Making Metaphor

[Written in January, 2024] The cold eventually got bad enough that the Grandma, the kids and I fled to a hotel while Matt stayed at the house with the dogs. We were fortunate to be able to that of course, and sharing a room in a nice warm hotel was not suffering by any stretch of the imagination. Even so, it was stressful. We brought ipads, paints, books and needlework to keep the kids entertained and alleviate some anxiety, but time also had to be made for school work—especially as they would be going back to class just in time for finals. We made lists of their classes, what they had to study, what we could help with and what questions would need to be put to their teachers.

Henry’s 16 now (!!) and instead of an exam, his Humanities final was a personal essay. We chatted a bit about his writing process, what he liked about what he had done so far and what was frustrating for him. Though he had a terrific topic, he’d written and rewritten his opening paragraph several times and wasn’t making any real progress.

Been there, buddy.

As we talked, I stumbled on a metaphor that I found helpful, and so I’m going to try and share with you roughly what I said to him, and perhaps some of you will find it helpful too.

I get it, I do. It’s exactly my inclination as well. But writing like this-- where you try to perfect everything as you go, effectively writing the third draft before you finish the first--it’s like trying to make a suit from the top to the bottom. You can’t make a suit like that. You can’t start with the collar and get that perfected and then move to the shoulder. You can’t topstitch the upper part of the button placket before the bottom even exists. And even if you could figure how to do it that way, your suit isn't going to fit. Because that’s just not the best way to make a suit. Finishing the thing from top to bottom is not the best way to write, either. You start by choosing your fabric—your topic. What material are you going to craft the suit from? What’s the subject of the essay? You want to write about your relationship to various monsters. That’s terrific! That’s like a nice wool; there’s heft there—memories and feelings and personal details that resonate as truths; it should make a rich and interesting suit. Now, instead of cutting out the collar immediately, let’s choose a pattern. We need a pattern to help us cut the wool into the proper shapes. The pattern is the very basic structure of your essay. How might you organize your thoughts and feelings about monsters? The order isn’t as important as the categories. For the suit jacket, we’ll need right front, left front, sleeves, collar, lining etc. For the essay, what monsters do you want to write about? King Kong, the Rancor, the Minotaur and Bernard the Bull. Perfect. Cutting the pattern pieces out is equivalent to gathering your thoughts on each monster. Write freely about each one, taking the time to remember in as much detail as possible where you first encountered each monster, how old you were, etc. Go through each of your senses to help you recall the moment. What did you see? Smell? Taste? Feel? Who was with you? How did you feel in your body? How did you feel in your heart? Include everything that jumps out at you, you can always edit it down later. In our metaphor, this step is not just cutting out the pieces but also taking the time to transfer the pattern marks. You might not need them all, but you're sure to make a finer suit if you have them all available. Once you have the pieces, the next step is to see how they fit together. Read through each monster and look for connections. Is there an order that suggests itself? Rearrange and then edit and expand to highlight those connections. The first pass of this is basting stitches—loose connections just to test the fit—once you’re happy with the shape you can go ahead and lay in seams. Here is where our parallels start to fall apart: For the suit, you’ll want to do all the finishing touches—the handstitching, buttons, pressing, etc.—and then try it on and style it. But in writing your essay, these steps are reversed—styling is crafting the last paragraph, bringing the piece to a close. Your essay doesn’t have to wrap up neatly, in fact, you don’t want it to be too matchy-matchy. Just as an outfit’s style is improved by personal idiosyncrasies, a piece of writing is enriched by the author's capacity to engage with complexity and ambiguity. With the styling done--when you really know what it is you're trying to say--now you can go back with needle and thread and do that hand-stitching: tighten the prose where you can, polish rhythms, word choice, grammar and voice. With the whole of the thing in front of you, you now have what you need to do the kind of “third draft” finishing work that was impossible to begin with.

This might be the very definition of beating a metaphor to death, but I surprised myself with it. It was as revelatory for me as it was for Henry--probably more so.

And with that, I need to get back to those now-422 emails.

Cheers,

Kelly Sue

PS New creator-owned book coming out late fall this year--first launch in a decade or so, I think? I do need to figure out this whole newsletter/blog conundrum sooner rather than later. Advice and opinions welcome.

[luvismenu]

STARBOY — JJK ,, 09 miffy ✎ ,, index

📜 series taglist: @rrosiitas @myjungkookthighs

📜 permanent taglist: @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle

you’re anxious.

jungkook should be here any moment now, and the wait feels heavier than it should. truthfully, you don’t need any help. nothing really needs organizing, not today. you just wanted jungkook to hang out with you... instead of elena.

it’s not her fault, not at all. elena is sweet, sometimes a little too dense for her own good, but kind nonetheless. you don’t dislike her.

it’s just that.. you like jungkook.

and you used to be fine with him spending time with her. it didn’t feel that serious.mostly because up until recently, jungkook’s attention on you seemed like nothing more than a game. his sole purpose was to annoy you, and annoy you he did.

he never went too far, though. it was the small things: teasing remarks, smug grins, little pranks that didn’t hurt but always managed to get under your skin. if he did go too far, he would do anything for you to forgive him. and those moments somehow built a connection between you two. something like... friends? enemies? frenemies? you’ve never quite figured it out.

but then the contest happened.

his voice still lingers in your head, smooth and annoyingly beautiful as he said, “she’s my universe.” it was a line you’ve replayed over and over, even as you tried to convince yourself it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing.

when he admitted that he’d meant you, your heart had raced in a way you hadn’t expected. and every time you think about him, even for a second, you can’t seem to calm the way your pulse quickens.

and now, you’re sitting here, waiting for him, trying to ignore the strange feeling in your chest.

before you could think about it more, the doorbell rings. you immediately make your wayto the door and open it, already mid-sentence. “why did it take you hours to come here? did you get lost or—”

but the words stop when you see him standing there, holding little bags. you blink in surprise.

“i was shopping,” he says casually, shrugging. “can i come in, prez?”

you step aside to let him in, still a little thrown off.

as he walks in, his eyes sweep across your apartment, taking in all his surroundings, the furniture and finally landing on a picture of yours on the nearby table. it's a picture from when you graduated highschool, you used to look more... nerdy.

uh-oh.

he picks it up, holding it up with a teasing smile. “nerd since birth?”

you quickly rush towards him. “none of your business,” you snap, grabbing the frame from his hands and putting it back. you’re so flustered that you don’t realize how close you’ve gotten to him.

cute. he thinks.

“i thought you were gonna be nicer,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, lingering just a second too long.

“this is me doing that,” you reply, your voice steady even though your heart isn’t. your own eyes trace the curve of his smirk, mirroring his gaze.

he steps back, breaking the moment with an easy grin, and walks toward your couch. he sets the bags down as you follow.

“what’s all this?” you ask, gesturing to the bags.

“food,” he replies simply, plopping down onto the couch.

“oh... thanks,” you mutter, glancing at him, and he smiles like it’s nothing.

“and this,” he adds, reaching for a smaller bag and handing it to you, “is for you.”

your brows raise. “for me?”

he nods, avoiding your gaze as he pretends to study your apartment again. “it looked like you, so i bought it.”

your confusion deepens as you open the bag and carefully unwrap whatever’s inside. when you finally reveal it, your eyes widen.

“it’s a...” you start.

“a miffy,” he finishes for you, watching your reaction closely.

you hold up the small, white bunny plushie beside your face, tilting your head. “this looks like me?”

he snorts, quickly covering his mouth to stifle his laugh. “y-yes,” he says between chuckles.

without hesitation, you throw the plushie at him.

“hey!” he protests, catching it midair, still laughing. “be careful with it!”

“i didn’t ask for it,” you shoot back, crossing your arms.

“do you know the concept of ‘gifts’?” he quips, setting the plushie back beside you.

you glance at it again. admittedly, it’s cute. you pick it up and hold it in your lap, a small sigh escaping you. “fine. thank you.”

“you’re welcome, stargirl,” he says, his grin practically glowing with pride. you roll your eyes at him, but you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“now tell me, what do you need help with?” he asks, his gaze still fixed on you.

“oh,” you mutter, your mind scrambling for something to say.

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning slightly forward.

“i, uh, just needed some help with…” your eyes dart around the room, landing on the nearest shelf. “sorting the... books?” you finish, unsure.

“the books?” he repeats, clearly surprised.

“well, i already fixed them,” you add quickly, trying to sound annoyed. “because someone took forever to show up.”

“uh-huh…” he hums, unconvinced but he's also amused.

he doesn’t press any further, though it’s obvious he doesn’t believe you. and before you can stumble through another excuse, his phone buzzes.

“oh, vice,” he says casually, answering the call.

your chest tightens as you try to act indifferent, but you can’t help listening closely.

“yeah, that’ll be fine,” he says, his tone softer now. “a date with you would be wonderful, you know?”

your stomach drops.

the words hit you like.... like.. a fucking brick?!!

yes you're cursing now because what the fuck?

suddenly, your heart feels too heavy.

your mind races.

was all the “my universe” stuff just a joke to him? a prank to get under your skin? was it not real?

you barely register him saying goodbye to elena before he turns back to you.

“that was vice,” he starts, but you cut him off.

“i think you should go now,” you say abruptly, standing up too fast. the plushie tumbles off your lap and onto the couch.

“woah, prez,” he says, standing too. “i just got here. what’s wrong?”

your eyes snap to his, anger and hurt bubbling to your face. “a date?”

he looks caught off guard. “yeah, i am gonna tell you that elena and—”

“were you just leading me on?” you interrupt, your voice softer now, but trembling. you lower your head, unable to meet his gaze.

“___,” he says your name, his voice softer than you expect. almost like he's being careful.

he closes the space between you, his hands resting on your shoulders. the touch surprises you; he’s never touched you before, not like this, never. and most of the time, he doesn't even use your name.

crap.

did you say too much?

“listen to me, okay?” he says, and you look at him, waiting for what he's about to say.

he exhales. “elena’s going to ask namjoon out.”

oh..

“she wanted my advice,” he continues, his gaze never leaving yours. “that’s all it was.”

you blink.

“oh.” you say

“yeah, that’s what’s up, prez,” he says. “i’m not leading you on.”

well, this is embarrassing.

he realizes that he’s been holding onto your shoulders for too long and pulls his hands back, clearing his throat.

“elena likes… namjoon?” you ask, your voice unsure.

he nods, “i was surprised too, but i can see it cuz she spends a lot of time with him and he helps her with almost everything,”

“oh,”

a pause.

“you know,” he starts, his gaze flicking back to yours.

“what?” you ask cautiously.

“you’re kinda cute when you’re jealous,” he says, his grin widening.

your face heats up instantly.

“shut up, jeon,” you snap, trying to sound firm, but the flush creeping up your face betrays you.

he doesn’t back down. in fact, he steps closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“aww, are you flustered?” he teases, tilting his head. “miss prez, the stargirl, blushing and flustered. this is a rare sight.”

you cross your arms over your chest, trying to regain some semblance of composure, but your cheeks burn hotter under his gaze.

“what? what do you want me to say?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him in a poor attempt to look angry.

instead of answering, he closes the distance between you, his hands gently wrapping around your waist.

your breath catches.

flushed isn’t even enough to describe how you look and feel right now.

“say that you like me,” he says softly, his voice a murmur as he looks directly into your eyes.

you stutter, your brain scrambling for words. “w-what… i—”

he chuckles, leaning forward just enough to place a soft, gentle kiss on your forehead.

“actually,” he murmurs, pulling back just slightly, “i’ll go first. since i’m the one who usually answers you.”

you blink at him, completely frozen.

“i…” he leans down a little more, his face now level with yours. “like…” he whispers, his nose brushing against yours.

your hands fall awkwardly at your sides until his hands reach them, his fingers finding yours, intertwining with them gently.

“you,” he finishes, his voice barely audible but enough for you to go crazy.

he waits for you to say something.

but you don't.

instead,

you kiss him.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 70

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 6K

TW: Smut

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, March 19th; 10:30 AM - At Lucy's place.

I sigh as I look at my study notes, which have taken over Lucy’s personal space. At least... if I can still call it that. I’ve slowly started filling it with my presence. Ever since I decided to move in after school, I’ve been bringing my stuff. I already brought a large suitcase from home last week, and I plan to do the same on our next trip to Barcelona. I’ll leave a few things there just in case, but most of it will be moved here. I should be resting, but I can’t. I was on the couch with Lucy, trying to start a series, but I didn’t last long. I was bored and felt useless. We’ve been moving around so much lately that I’m not used to staying still anymore. That’s how I ended up in this situation. I haven’t been feeling great lately, I must admit. I’m stressed out because of a few rejections I finally received from galleries. It’s only a small handful, but it’s unsettling. On top of that, I got feedback from Mr. Fields, and it wasn’t good. He’s not going to change his mind about his offer in Cardiff. I’m taking my time to give him an answer, but let’s just say I don’t want to accept it. And of course, our professors decided to schedule their exams for the two weeks before the break... That’s not helping my stress. I was about to start reading a new chapter when the sound of shuffling papers caught my attention. I look up to see Lucy gathering my notes that were scattered across the table.

- "What are you doing?" I asked, perplexed.

- "You’re unbelievable. No matter what I do, you always find something to cling to like a kind of drug when you start to lose control. Well... you know what I mean, right?" she backpedaled after realizing what she’d just said.

I smiled softly, crossing my arms as she continued to pile up my notes in her hands. For a moment, I wondered if she was respecting the order of my chapters or if I’d have to sort them all out later. Those thoughts quickly disappeared when she spoke again.

- "You need to detach yourself from studying, so we’re going out."

- "Really?" I raised an eyebrow.

- "Yes. You’re going to lose your mind if you keep studying this much."

I bit my lip as she held out her hand for me to give her the paper I was holding like my life depended on it.

- "I don’t think-"

- "Oh yes, it’s a great idea," she interrupted me. "Come on."

- "Fine..." I muttered, handing it over. "So, what do you have planned?"

- "We’re going to help the girls at the gym."

- "The gym...? You mean the studio?"

- "Yeah, the gym," she said, putting the stack of papers in my organizer. "I texted Jenni, and it seems they’re in the middle of renovations, so it’s the perfect time to lend a hand."

- "Alright..." I sighed.

I’m far from motivated, but it seems like it’s for a good cause.

- "Who’s there?"

- "Jenni, Aitana, Beth, and Alexia."

- "Alexia?" I repeated in surprise. "She didn’t tell me she was staying."

- "It wasn’t planned. Jenni hosted her last night. Their transport got canceled, apparently."

I raised an eyebrow. I’m really surprised she didn’t tell me, to be honest. Well, we haven’t talked since we parted ways yesterday.

- "What about Alba?"

- "As if I went that far in my questioning," she rolled her eyes. "You can ask her yourself in a few minutes. Go change first. Do you have any old clothes?"

- "Uh, no."

I blushed at the thought. I haven’t brought any of that yet. I prioritized what I wear regularly.

- "Well, I’ll have to find you something."

After getting ready, we were set to leave. I was wearing Lucy’s clothes, and nothing could make me happier. Surprisingly, traffic was light for a Saturday morning. The weather was warming up, finally allowing a few rays of sunshine to appear. Well, it wasn’t Barcelona’s twenty-five degrees, but I wasn’t going to complain. Seeing the outside world was doing me a lot of good, surprisingly. Lucy parked in the same spot as last time. I recognized Jenni’s car near ours. I assumed the other two cars belonged to the friends she had mentioned. I was excited to see them again. I hadn’t seen them since our trip to the Alps.

- "Are you mad at me?" I asked as she opened the rear door of the building for me.

- "Mad at you for what?"

- "For isolating myself whenever things get tough in my life instead of coming to talk to you..."

I turned to see her walking behind me. She met my gaze with a smile plastered on her face.

- "I’d be mad if it wasn’t so obvious, yes. But don’t worry, that’s not the case. I know you, and I know what’s bothering you right now. I’ll never force you to talk, but you know communication is important, and if you ever feel the need to talk, I’m here."

- "Thanks... I think I just need a hug right now."

- "Then I think I’ll offer my arms for that."

I laughed as I melted into her embrace when she opened her arms. In the end, I might be regretting the couch now. I’ll think about it next time. I sighed softly, inhaling her scent. It’s become my favorite. It’s fruity, yet soft, with a hint of coffee. It’s strange, but totally harmonious thanks to her natural body smell.

- « te amo," I murmured against her neck.

- « Te amo también, mi amor."

The doors to the main room creaked open a bit farther down. I didn’t even need to turn around to know, given how loud they were.

- "Ah, I knew I heard some noise!"

I turned around, recognizing Alexia’s voice. She had a huge, toothy smile. At least we could be sure she was happy to see us.

- "I’m so glad you’re here. We needed a bit more muscle around here. Don’t just stand there. We were waiting for you."

We walked over to greet her with a kiss on each cheek. We entered the room, where upbeat music filled the space. We greeted the guys as well, though it was less pleasant since their cheeks were sticky with sweat. It wasn’t surprising. They hadn’t slacked off this morning. They had already started tearing everything apart. The mirrors were dismantled, and the door on the right had been removed, revealing the hallway Lucy mentioned last time. If I remember correctly, the classrooms will be there.

- "Wow. Looks like you’ve made good progress," Lucy commented.

- "Yeah, pretty much," Aitana replied. "Jenni knows how to keep us motivated."

We laughed as she raised the beer she was drinking. A pack was lying in a corner, along with a few empty glass bottles. I wasn’t sure how long they’d been there, but it seemed like they’d been working since early this morning.

- "We didn’t know where to start, so we decided to tackle this area."

- "Yeah, yeah, it’s fine," Lucy said, making the same observation as me. "Have you started on the locker rooms yet?" she asked, glancing in the other direction.

- "No, that’s the next step," her best friend admitted.

- "Alright. Well, I think that’s a priority, along with the break room at the back. The furniture for those two rooms will arrive in a few weeks."

- "Okay, we’ll keep working on that then. We were just waiting for your orders, Commander."

Alexia and I stifled a laugh. It was quickly stopped by her mock-serious glare. Jenni gave us a knowing smile. After all, that nickname was here to stay. It suited her personality. But honestly, we couldn’t deny that we’d all be lost without her. Even now, she was playing the role of project manager.

- "Do you already have plans for how it’ll look?" I asked her.

- "Of course. We worked with an architect. Do you want to see the final design?"

- "Well, yeah!" I feigned offense that she hadn’t shown me yet.

- "Oh, sorry," she teased. "Jenni, where did you put the copies of the plans?"

"Uh, I think upstairs, in the office. We didn’t need them today. »

- Thank you.

- Can I come with you? Ale asks as I grab Lucy's hand.

- Yeah, sure, my girlfriend replies.

We head upstairs. Nothing has been touched here yet. I doubt much needs to be redone. It's a bit old, but it will just need a fresh coat of paint and probably some cleaning too. We stand at the front of the office while Lucy rummages through the drawers one by one.

- Ah, here they are.

She places them in front of us with a triumphant look. I smile, noticing how proud she is of her work. And she should be—it all looks fantastic. The color scheme is navy blue and white, with black aluminum accents like the entryway they plan to install. It gives an industrial vibe, a style I often see and love. At least I won’t worry about our tastes clashing if we ever decide to pick or even build a house together. Despite that, they've still kept the authenticity and charm of the stone walls.

- Do you like it? The plans can still be changed, but we can’t alter the major parts anymore.

She's talking fast, and her expression is a bit tense. Our opinions must matter a lot. I don’t answer right away, lingering over the locker room plans. There will be cabins on one side and showers on the other, with a small private stall for privacy. The idea is well thought out. Of course, there are also toilets. The color theme remains the same, and it looks like the mirrors they removed from the main room will be reused here.

- It’s great, I break the suspense first. What do you think?

- Same here, Ale responds. Honestly, you guys made excellent choices.

I continue examining the plans for the back area, where they plan to refresh the hallway. The toilets won’t be touched, but the break room will be completely redone. Again, the blue stands out, with minimalist furniture and a blue accent wall.

- That must have taken a lot of work, she adds.

- Quite a bit, yeah, but between weekends and my evenings at the dorm, we managed to make it happen.

The final plans are for the rooms reserved for common classes. I also notice a room marked as an office.

- What’s this room for? I ask, pointing to it.

- It’s for personal follow-ups. We thought it would be better to have a room that offers privacy.

- Why not use this office? I ask, gesturing to the one we’re standing in.

- We didn’t want members to have access to the back area. A sign will be put up saying it's staff-only. I don’t think people will linger here, but the idea isn’t to supervise them all the time. Plus, important documents and storage will be kept here.

I nod. It makes sense. At least they won’t have to worry about surveillance. I frown, lingering over the other classroom plans. Oddly enough, they seem very plain—just white walls, which is strange compared to the rest.

- Why won’t the classrooms be decorated?

- Ah, you noticed? I was wondering the same thing, Ale points out.

We both look up at Lucy. My question seems to have amused her.

- To be honest, Jenni and I talked about it for a while. We want you to handle the decor for those rooms.

I’m speechless. Ale gives me a big smile and pats my back in support.

- A-are you serious?

- Yeah! I’ve seen what you did with your room in Barcelona. You’re totally capable of this. I was going to ask you about it—I just hadn’t had the chance yet. These rooms don’t need repairs, just renovation and decoration, so there’s no rush. What do you think? Will you take it on?

- Of course she’ll accept! Ale exclaims. That would be awesome!

I blush, flattered that she thought of me for this task.

- Yeah, sure… I think I can do that if you really want me to. Do you have any ideas already?

- Not really, she admits. We held off so you’d have the freedom to imagine what you want. But we can give you some suggestions if you prefer.

- Honestly, you caught me off guard, I chuckle nervously. We’ll have to talk more about it.

She smiles knowingly, and I think I understand. My little guess was right.

- If it becomes your next obsession, that’s fine with me.

I roll my eyes, laughing. Alexia watches us, not fully understanding the situation but wisely choosing not to intrude, sensing it’s a private conversation between us.

- Well, how about we go help the others? That’s what we’re here for, right?

That’s how we spent the rest of the day, helping our friends. Lucy was right. I needed to see something different, to enjoy life. I was happy to spend time with them. Everything was done in good spirits. The girls were demolishing things while we, the girls, were in charge of loading the van Jenni rented with the old furniture. We made several trips to the nearest dump. It took most of our time because of the traffic, but it was fun. We also went to the mall across the street to restock water and beer since we were running low. It’s really convenient having a building like that so close. I’m sure it’ll attract a lot of people—after all, everyone goes to the mall, so they won’t miss the gym’s sign. One thing’s for sure: we laughed a lot throughout the day. I was finally able to forget about my life for a while. Lucy and Alexia got along so well. I’m even starting to wonder if she might prefer Alexia to Mapi. I guess I’ll never know. It’s not something Lucy would admit, knowing her. By the end of the afternoon, we’d cleared out the break room. Lucy promised the guys we’d come back next week to help with the locker rooms, which are much bigger. In any case, I was happy to be there. At least I knew I’d be doing something other than studying. Our friends suggested we stay for dinner, and we agreed. We ended up at a pizza place nearby. Something tells me we’ll become regulars there. They serve pizzas, but also pasta dishes. Tonight, we all had pizza. Lucy and I ordered two different ones so we could share. They were excellent, but next time I think I’ll try the pasta to see if it’s as good. 

The day came to an end. We said our goodbyes late at night before everyone headed home. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as exhausted when we left as I’d been when we arrived. Lucy seemed to feel the same way.

- We could make cookies, I suggested.

- Cookies? she laughed. Why cookies?

- Well, we’re not tired. Might as well do something productive. We could bring them to the girls tomorrow. They’d love that.

- Wow... why not? But I’m not sure I have everything we need, she said, already checking her cupboards.

- Well, how about a chocolate cake then? You must have some chocolate, right?

Lucy laughed and finally pulled out a bar of dark chocolate.

- Yes, I do. That’s doable.

- Cool! Let’s get to work, then.

I rolled up my sleeves, making Lucy laugh.

- Slow down, master chef. Start by washing your hands.

- You just had to kill my enthusiasm, huh? I said with a playful pout.

- No, I’m teaching you. A good chef knows you always wash your hands before starting, she teased with a wink.

I laughed but followed her advice. After everything we did today, it wasn’t exactly sanitary to start cooking without cleaning up first.

- Maybe we should shower before starting, huh? We’ve been sweating all day.

- No, I’d lose my motivation, I admitted.

- True, you’re right. Alright, let’s get to work.

After washing her hands too, she pulled out a cookbook. I had to admit, I’d never made a chocolate cake before. I felt a little embarrassed because it’s such a basic thing.

- So, I’ll read the ingredients, and you get them out.

- Maybe it makes more sense to do it the other way around, right? Since you know where everything is.

- Alright, if you say so, she teased.

I list the ingredients for her, and she places them on the countertop. It's time to begin. She preheats the oven, and then we get to work. Everything is done with a cheerful mood. Nothing is too serious. She has me follow the recipe, pouring the ingredients into a bowl, while she takes care of melting the butter and chocolate over a bain-marie.

"Why don't you just use the microwave, since you have one?" I teased.

"I prefer doing it this way. It's how I was taught. It's supposed to be better. Plus, no microwaves involved."

"Hmm... if you say so."

I dip my finger into the melted mixture and bring it to my mouth once everything has melted, abandoning my bowl that's been ready for a while.

"Hey, don’t touch that."

"We could totally eat this as is too."

"Unless you want a stomachache, sure, we can," she teased.

I pouted to show my dissatisfaction.

"My grandmother used to forbid me from eating the batter like that, but she always let me lick the bowl at the end," I shared.

"Well, you can lick the bowl too if you want," she laughed. "Alright, all that's left is to mix everything together. Do you want to handle it?"

"Can you do it? I never managed to do it right when I was a kid."

"You've grown up since then, you know?" she teased. "Come on, you'll do it."

She tugged on the sleeve of my sweater to pull me in front of her. I frowned but took the whisk and mixed our two bowls together. Lucy finished up when she noticed my movements were slowing down. Smiling playfully, I dabbed my finger in the mix and smeared it on her face. Lucy gasped in surprise.

"You dared!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I moved closer to lick her cheek, trying to erase the evidence. Lucy backed away immediately, but it was too late—I had already cleaned it up. She wiped her face with her sleeve.

"Oh, so you want to play, huh?"

She dipped her fingers into the batter, and I laughed as she pinned me against the counter before I could escape. She slowly dragged her fingers from my forehead to my chin, smearing the rest down my neck.

"Come on, that’s over the top," I giggled.

"What? I’m just going to clean it up like you did," she said mischievously.

I tried to wriggle out of her grip, but it was a lost cause. She was holding me too tightly, her body fully pressed against mine. There was no way out.

"It's my turn to get even," she whispered before kissing my forehead.

I kept laughing as she continued her "clean-up" down my nose. I had stopped resisting. I was the one who had started the playful mess, so I wasn't going to stop her. Things got more intense when she reached my lips. She lingered particularly long where the last bit of chocolate had been. We kissed, devouring each other’s mouths, before she moved down to my chin. Our eyes locked with heavy intensity. A warmth stirred deep in my stomach. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at me with such desire. I bit my lip as she moved even lower after finishing with my chin. She ended up at my neck, and I realized why she had smeared so much chocolate there. 

Breathing shallowly, I closed my eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing. I gripped the counter behind me to keep my balance. She alternated between using her tongue, sucking, and giving soft kisses. A moan escaped my lips, and I immediately covered my mouth with my hand. I realized she had just bitten the edge of my collarbone. She lifted her head to meet my eyes again. The knot in my stomach tightened even more. There was a delicious tension in the air. She wanted me—it was clear from her eyes. We stayed in that position for a moment, neither of us breaking the silence that was filled with meaning. It was now or never. She was waiting for me to react, but I didn’t know what to do. Inside, I was panicking, but I wanted this. I could feel it in every part of me. When she started to pull back, I couldn’t let it end like that. I grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her passionately. I needed her. My move surprised her, and she leaned into me with her full weight. We were dangerously close to breaking apart. We devoured each other with our eyes, silently asking what was next.

“I want this,” I whispered. “Please.”

I was grateful she hadn’t asked the question first. I preferred making the choice myself. She appreciated my response, as I could tell by the low growl that escaped her throat.

“Are you sure…?” she asked.

I nodded as I returned to her lips. I could feel her smile as my arms wrapped around her neck, pulling her closer. I heard her chuckle when she suddenly lifted me off the ground. Her lips didn’t give me time to cry out.

“It’s all for you tonight, Princess,” she whispered, attacking my neck again.

Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around her waist and tilted my head to the side. I never knew where she got her strength from, but I wasn’t surprised anymore. She paused for a moment at the edge of the kitchen, and I realized she was turning off the oven. Then, expertly, she returned to my neck as we headed down the hallway. I didn’t even notice what was happening around us before I was pinned against the wall of our bedroom. That thought alone heightened my excitement. Lucy’s hips ground against my most sensitive spot, and if I wasn’t sure before, I could now feel the dampness there. I would have loved for her to come back to my lips to muffle the sounds I could barely contain. Lucy must have noticed because she stopped her sweet torture on my neck, which was probably well-marked by now. She knew it was one of my weak points. Her warm breath sent shivers down my body. She nibbled on my earlobe before whispering:

“Don’t hold back your pleasure, baby,” she murmured. “I want to hear you. I need to know how you’re feeling.”

After her words, she hit just the right spot, and I couldn’t hold back the sound that escaped my lips. Damn.

"That's much better," she teased with a playful smile. "No more holding back, okay?"

I squeaked as she continued to tease between my legs with her hips, punishing me with waves of pleasure, eliciting more moans. Unable to form words, I nodded to show I understood. She didn’t give me a chance to react or even think about it—probably for the best. She kissed me again, more softly this time, as she carried me to our bed. My heart raced as her hands wandered under my sweater. I lifted my arms to help her remove the barrier that seemed to be bothering her. Her lips wanted to return to my now burning body, but I held her back for a moment.

“I-I want to see you too, please.”

My voice was fragile, pleading in the moment. Lucy laughed softly but nodded. For the first time, she gave me a bit of space, sitting up on top of me.

"You don’t have to ask, you know. You just need to undress me..."

I smiled timidly and pulled off her sweater, tossing it somewhere in the room.

"You don’t really give me the time," I teased her.

She laughed, and to my surprise, she quickly removed her bra, letting it join the pile of clothes. I was mesmerized by the sight before me. Lucy was a stunning woman. I still wondered what I had done to deserve her...

"Is this better?" she murmured.

I nodded, bringing my gaze back to hers. I blushed, knowing she had caught me staring.

"Go ahead," she whispered. "Don’t be shy. Everything is yours, my love."

With a touch of shyness, I brought my hand to her left breast. She shivered slightly at the contact. I noticed her watching me with a small smile. I lingered on her perfect chest. It wasn’t too large or too small. As soon as my finger grazed her nipple, it hardened instantly, a clear sign that her excitement matched mine. I finally looked back up into her eyes, and she nodded, giving me silent permission. I gently cupped her breast, caressing it more fully. I had been waiting for this moment for so long. It fit perfectly in my palm. I took my time. I wanted to explore every inch of her body. I rolled us over so that I was on top. With my occupied hand, I continued to caress her more confidently. My other hand supported me as I leaned down to focus on her other breast with my mouth. I kissed every part I could, even letting my tongue trail over certain spots. My excitement was building fast, and it seemed Lucy’s was too, given how she squirmed beneath me. I gained confidence as she didn’t hold back her sounds. The most intense moment came when I sucked her nipple hard. I wanted to take my time, to savor the moment, but that clearly wasn’t in her plans. Her hands quickly found their way to my back. The need to feel her bare skin against mine prompted me to let her undress me too. I gasped when she suddenly flipped us over, letting our chests press against each other for the first time after she had removed my last piece of clothing from the top.

- I said it was for you tonight. I intend to keep my promise.

- Bab-

I don’t have time to protest before she returns to my lips, my neck, and finally my chest. She kisses me everywhere, her tongue joining the dance from the start. I close my eyes to savor the sensation I had almost forgotten. With Feli, everything was quick. She didn’t linger on foreplay, preferring to get straight to the point. Experiencing such tenderness again brings tears to my eyes. Lucy, unaware of my tears, continues her torment, alternating between each breast with her hand or her mouth. She’s everywhere, for my perfect pleasure. It’s when she moves back up towards me that she notices my state.

- Hey, what’s wrong? We can stop if it’s too much for you.

- N-no, don’t... D-don’t stop, p-please.

Despite myself, tears come in streams. I didn’t want to ruin this moment. Not in any way. Lucy slides her fingers under my eyelids, as she has become accustomed to doing.

- D-don’t stop, please, I beg her.

She kisses me tenderly. This gesture calms me a bit. I return her sweet kisses, adding more passion to the next ones. She reignites the flame with her hands continuing to caress my chest.

- It’s going to be okay, she whispers. Tell me what I should do. Or show me if you prefer.

I nod and try to stop my tears once and for all. She still wants me, even with my disheveled mind and the tears that must have affected my appearance. My heart burns as much as my body. I linger my hands on her jeans, struggling with her belt with my trembling hands. I want to go faster, and Lucy chuckles at my sudden impatience.

- Okay, wait. Slow down.

She lifts herself to help me undress her. We soon find ourselves both in just our underwear, warm as embers after multiple caresses and kisses. Everything is soft. Lucy returns to my chest, now as marked by her as my neck. Her body fits perfectly with mine, moving slowly, making sure our thighs touch each other. I press against her from time to time, without realizing it. She was heating me up, and my desire quickly becomes too powerful and uncontrollable. Then comes the moment I was most apprehensive about. She starts to move down, but by reflex, I pull her back towards me.

- Relax, darling. Trust me.

I let her go with those simple words after a final exchanged kiss. She kisses my stomach first to tease me, though I was already at my limit. To make things difficult, I don’t make it easy for her. I squirm, though I have to keep my stomach contracted the entire time. I recognize some places where she lingers. They are where my scars are. I also flinch when she playfully nibbles. Then, she stops when she reaches my last piece of underwear. Surprisingly, she doesn’t remove it. She prefers to go lower, starting again from my knee. It’s too much. It tickles, as I am sensitive there. I try to close my thighs together, but Lucy holds them open with a laugh.

- Stop torturing me, I reply in a short breath.

- Come on, baby. You won’t escape this, she teases, continuing her trail of kisses. I want to kiss every part of your body.

I moan as she continues inside my thighs. Damn. I can’t resist much longer.

- P-promise me you’ll come back up after, I beg. I want you with me.

I don’t want to be the only one having pleasure tonight. I don’t know what she had planned, but I want us to come together for our first time.

- Alright, she murmurs against my warm skin. I promise.

She continues her path gradually, passing over my legs. I don’t remember being this sensitive here. I can’t stay still. Lucy keeps me pinned down with one hand on my stomach and the other on my thigh. I can’t close them or escape. She understands that she needs to hold them firmly to achieve her goal. A goal she eventually reaches. I don’t even dare to look down. All I know is that my panties must be quite wet in her eyes. I feel the coolness as Lucy breathes on it to tease me.

- Look at me.

I do so with difficulty. Seeing her at my center, holding my legs, makes my stomach churn. I’m struggling to realize that this is happening. The woman who, a few months ago, was tormenting me with training sessions to bring me down to earth, is now between my legs. I don’t protest when she pulls on the waistband of my black lace thong. I don’t know what possessed me to wear it this morning, but I’m thankful now. She does it gently to give me time to push her away if needed, but I don’t. Especially not in my state. I want her. Now. Still, she takes wicked pleasure in driving me crazy like she did a few minutes ago with her kisses.

- Luce, I complain.

- Oh, are you impatient now?

I move my hips as she has long since removed my last barrier. She gazes at me, and I blush. I thought I would feel vulnerable when this happened, but the way she looks at me makes me melt. With a smile, she teases my clitoris with her finger.

- I should make you beg.

- Y-you wouldn’t dare!

- And why not?

She plays with me and even dares to laugh. I plan to get my revenge when it’s her turn. As if she could read my thoughts, she dives right into my center to kiss it. I can still feel her smile. Just from the contact, I moan loudly. Her tongue takes over before she sucks on my sensitive skin. I cry out, propping myself up on my elbows at the sensation.

- Oh, fuck!

I can feel Lucy’s smile again. She doesn’t say anything, just pulls me down with her arm. I let myself fall back, closing my eyes. The sensation is exquisite. I had forgotten what it felt like to experience such pleasure. Her tongue explores every inch of my little garden, eliciting more than one moan or cry of pleasure. I cling to the sheets as best I can to avoid pulling her hair. If she had been at my level, her back would be covered in scratches. She mixes it with some sucking before going even lower. It’s the last straw. My moans fill the room, and I quickly grab her hair. I no longer know if I want to restrain her or pull her away. My head isn’t in the game anymore, and Lucy takes wicked pleasure in building the pressure in my stomach. I’ve never felt such pleasure before. When I reach my peak, I pull her hair. She quickly understands the message, finishing the moment with a final little kiss before coming back up. The absence of her mouth is already replaced by her hand. My own can now scratch her back. With my other hand, I quickly venture under her completely wet underwear. A short breath escapes her. It’s my turn to leave her with no opportunity. I take her lips, covered in my moisture. We caress each other while kissing. When she inserts a finger into me, I have to break the connection.

- O-oh my God.

I contract around her finger, no longer used to such presence. Lucy, who had started moving, stops immediately.

- Are you okay? she murmurs with concern.

- Y-yes! Don’t stop.

Understanding the meaning of my positive reaction, she waits for me to relax before adding a second finger. She doesn’t give me time to think and starts a gentle rhythm. I’m tense at first, but pleasure soon takes over as she speeds up. I realize I’ve fallen behind on my end. I have to concentrate fully to reciprocate. It’s intense. We are making love. The room echoes with our sounds. Lucy manages to find my lips to seal them together one last time. I struggle to return the kiss. My focus is much lower. Especially as our last acceleration takes its toll on us. We scream one final time in unison when we climax. I’m overwhelmed by her intensity. My teeth sink into Lucy’s shoulder, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. She’s in the same state as me, against my neck. The room eventually quiets down, with only our ragged breathing filling the space. It took us both a moment to recover. She’s the first to remove her fingers before I do. I’m exhausted, and my eyelids have become heavy. Still, I remain awake. Lucy kisses me one last time before getting up. I watch her carefully as she removes her underwear that had stayed on until the end. It must be quite a mess now. She pulls back the covers, and with a tremendous effort, I slip underneath. She immediately joins me, wrapping her arms around me. I smile, realizing what just happened.

- I love you, I murmur.

- I love you even more, she whispers, kissing my temple. Have sweet dreams, my love.

Under her words, I finally let myself drift off to sleep.

[oneofstarkskids]

so high school (part 3)

part 1, part 2

genre: fluff

summary: high school au!! how is bucky supposed to break it to you that everything that's happened started with a lie?

bucky didn't know how long he could keep it up. the whole facade. he actually had to scramble to hide his report card from you.

you weren't his dad. he shouldn't be afraid of you seeing his grades.

but he was finally spending time with you. could he have made things simple and just asked you out like a normal person? no. this was more fun.

plus it's not like anyone was getting hurt. he was passing all his classes as usual. the only down side seemed to be the lying. he would have to tell you eventually...right? or maybe he could just...

he started to envision it. the two of you sitting on a deck with james junior in your lap. "and that's how mommy met daddy. because he's dumb as a rock."

or in the later years. "do you need me to organize your pills, honey?" bucky would probably roll his eyes, "i can count, doll."

okay so maybe he was overthinking, but that didn't mean that all of this couldn't turn into a problem. besides, he wanted to be honest with you.

relationships shouldn't be built on lies. so bucky decided to tell you the truth.

he met you in the library, like he'd done almost every day this week. he noticed the sullen expression on your face immediately.

"what's wrong?" he asked. you didn't have any problem telling him. the two of you had become sort of, close.

"it's my friend sam. he said he was working yesterday, but i saw someone post him on their story at some hangout," you sighed. "it doesn't matter. he can hang out with whoever he wants. i just can't believe he lied to me."

bucky froze. oh. shit.

"we're best friends. i don't understand why he felt like he couldn't tell me the truth. it hurts, you know," you said. and because bucky did know, he looked down at the table.

"i have to tell you something."

you study his expression. not that it was difficult, bucky was usually an expressive person. he seemed a bit nervous.

"i was never going to fail," he said quietly.

you frowned. "what?"

bucky tried to explain, "i was never getting kicked off the team. i've never failed a class. math and science are actually my strongest subjects."

bucky couldn't stop imagining the look of betrayal that was probably on your face. it took a lot for him to look up to meet your eyes.

but when he did, you were...smiling?

you suddenly laughed like it was all ridiculous. bucky didn't know how to react. and he had sisters, so he knew that your laughter could turn into a lecture at any moment.

"why?" you managed between wheezes.

bucky thought back to the beginning of it all, "well, i liked you for a really long time. all my friends were saying i should ask you out, but i guess i was too scared."

"you were scared?" you couldn't understand how someone like bucky barnes could be insecure for even a moment.

yet, he nodded.

"so you decided to create an elaborate plan to spend all this time with me instead of just asking me on a date?" you asked.

bucky chuckled with embarrassment, "maybe i am stupid after all."

you shook your head, "i don't think it's stupid. i think it's cute."

he turned a bright shade of pink that had you feeling confident.

you smirked, "but don't think that means you're getting out of that date."

[skyfullofcelestia]

The Storm on the Horizon

Story: Everyday misunderstandings and how would they handle them.

Characters: Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gepard

Dan Heng

Deep down in his soul, he knew it must be just a misunderstanding. But the absence of your smile every time you see him, no more random touches on public places from you even though you knew he prefers to keep them private… He loved being loved without any shame, but never told you. And now he regrets it. You were his biggest cheerleader and now you felt like a stranger. Dan Heng spent much time wondering if the two of you are a good match. He preferred his silent solitude while you were always the loud one, cheering him up for every small accomplishment. Without your presence, his life felt quiet. Too quiet.

“Y/N?” Dan Heng jumped up when you finally came by his cabin.

“Hiii.” You smile without the usual spark in your eyes. “I just stopped by for… this.” You point at a small bag you left behind.

“Yes, of course.” He mumbled, “Why… why do you want to take it?” Dan Heng asked, not able to resist questioning you anymore. 

“Ummm...” You frowned confused. “I just want to take my cosmetics bag. I need it. Is there a problem?”

“No. You just kept it here since we began dating and now you are taking it away.” His small wrinkle in between the brows deepened.

“March organized a last-minute sleepover. I thought that you would not mind…” You stopped yourself and let out a deep sigh. “What is this all about?”

“I have wanted to ask you.” Dan Heng looked at you with a hesitation written all over his face. “You have been so distant lately, I was wondering if…”

“You would be too.” You cut him off. “Asking Mr. Yang if there is a point to stay in a relationship with me.”

“I-I did not mean it like that!” Dan Heng raised his voice with realization. “I trust him and I needed to ask him…” 

“If you should be in a relationship with me? Like he knows us more than we do?” You smiled with disbelief.

“No, of course not. There is just this feeling that I cannot get rid of. You are so bubbly, always excited for every new day and adventure ahead of us. I prefer my own company, being able to work in peace. We are so different.”

“And maybe that was the beauty of our relationship. We were able to give each other what we lacked. I brought you spontaneity while you anchored me when I flew too high.” 

“I agree.” He smiled a little. “But you are talking in the past time.”

“Maybe you were right to doubt us.”

“You do not love me anymore?” Dan Heng pierced you with a painful stare. 

“You opened the room full of doubts for me. But you should ask that yourself first.”

Dan Heng studied your face for a moment trying to find the right words.

“I love you.” He finally interrupted the silence. “I have loved you since the day I met you. When you are next to me, I feel like I am home. Home where I can feel… safe, comfortable, and loved.” He tried to stop himself from saying more, but the words kept pouring. “I should not doubt you, your love, my love, us… I imagined my future without you and it felt… empty. I do not want to be without you. Life like that feels not worth living.”

You wrapped your hands around his neck, caressing the back of his head. Your heart felt full, but light at the same time. The heaviness that was dragging you down for days was suddenly gone. You grabbed your phone, quickly excusing yourself from today’s plans because you were not planning to leave Dan Hengs's cabin anytime soon.

Jing Yuan 

His days were always busy, usually gone without even realizing it. But today was dragging like never before. Jing Yuan checked the time for the hundredth time. It is past your lunch break but for some reason, you did not stop by like you usually did every Friday. Now it was the third time without your pastries and even though he loved them very much, he knew that your absence was making him sad more than his sweet tooth and growling stomach.

“General! Where are you going? We have an important meeting with…” Yanqing protested, confused.

“I will be right back!” He said right before a loud slap of his office door.

….

“What is going on?” A tall shadow appeared out of nowhere. 

Jing Yuan was standing right in front of you with his arms crossed on his chest.

“Why?” You almost chuckled.

“Why? I should be the one asking you why you left your man hungry again.”

“Honey, I already told you that pastries and sweets are not real meals. You need to eat a proper lunch.”

“I Know.” He frowned. “But you always bake for me. You were the one who said that it is one of your ways of showing your love.”

“I am just busy. I will bake you your favorites tomorrow, ok?” 

“That does not count.”

You rolled your eyes without a word and turned your back to him trying to get back to work when a big hand grabbed your arm and turned you back to him.

“Talk to me.” He whispered gently. “What is going on?”

You looked him deeply in his eyes, wondering if you should tell him or not. He should be the one to find out by himself, but there is a possibility that he would not.

“I had a birthday. We were supposed to visit my parents. We just had our anniversary…”

His face almost darkened. How could he forget?

“So many occasions and you forgot about all of them. I do not care about the gifts or big celebrations, but I would love to be able to go to sleep with you next to me at least twice a year. Is that so much to ask?”

“It is the bare minimum that I promised you.” He looked down at his hands. “And I was not able to keep my promise.”

“I know you are a busy man, Mr. General. But I need you too.” You sighed. “Maybe we should take a break.”

“What?!” Jing Yuan almost growled. “And what is the point of that? You are upset that I do not have time for you, so you propose to separate so we can spend even less time together?”

“It does not make sense, I know. But I need some space to think things through.”

“I will give you any corner of the space. Just pick one and I will bring it to you on the silver plate.”

“That is not what I meant.”

Before you can protest any further Jing Yuan pulled you to him and tightly wrapped you into his embrace.

“If you love me, I will not let you go anywhere. We do not need space from each other. We need the exact opposite.” He whispered into your hair. “Pack your stuff, we are leaving.”

“What? I am in the middle of work.” You tried to pull away from him, but he did not let you.

“General's order.” He smiled.

“But, but… My boss will not like it.” 

“I will deal with him, darling.” He smiled sheepishly. “Now let me make it all up to you in a really special place.”

To say that Jing Yuan had not left you alone for even an hour that weekend would be an understatement.

Gepard

Another long and exhausting day at work has not stopped him from waiting for you until late at night. When the jingle of the keys finally filled the quiet hallway of your home, Gepard straightened himself on the sofa.

“Hello, baby.” You smiled. “Why are you up so late?”

“I was waiting for you.” 

“Ok? Have I done something wrong and you want to arrest me now?” You grinned at him as you made yourself comfortable right next to him.

But he pulled away, making your carefree smile disappear.

“We need to talk.” 

“Obviously.” You frowned. “Can you just tell me what is going on?”

“Your behavior is confusing me. You keep telling me how much you love me, but you act oppositely.”

“How? Why do you think that? I am even more confused than before.”

Gepard´s puppy eyes locked with yours and you realize that he truly meant every word he said.

“Oh, baby.” You cupped his face with both of your hands. “Just tell me what is bothering you. I am sure we can work it out.”

“I love you, I want to spend my whole life with you. You are the most important person in my life. But so do my sisters. I was disappointed when you could not make it to our family dinner. For the third time.”

“It was just really bad timing.” You almost chuckled relieved. 

“I want you all to at least know each other. I would love you all to be friends after some time.”

Without a word, you sat down on his lap showering him with dozens of kisses all over his face.

“Please, answer me.” Gepard tried to fight you off unsuccessfully.

“Do you know why I was out so late?”

“You were out with your friends.” He frowned, confused.

“Yes. And one of them is called Serval.” You smiled.

“Mine Serval?”

“I only know one.” You shrugged.

“Oh,” Gepard scratched his head. “So you two are friends? You do not hate her or anything like that?”

“No, my silly baby. I do not hate any of your sisters. I was just busy so I could not meet them all at once.”

“Now my turn!” Gepard laid you down on the sofa and positioned himself over you as he drowned you with kisses all over your body. “I am so happy.” He murmured into your skin.

[iomoru]

A Study In Curiosity

A/n: I was just peacefully writing my albedo fic then the next thing I know is that have 3 requests outside my door (I'LL DO IT LATER I PROMISE)

Genre: Canon Verse, Fluff, Gn! Reader, Albedo x Reader, Second Person, Proofread

Summary: While reading a romance novel from Inazuma, Albedo stumbles upon a kissing scene and becomes curious about the experience. He asks you if you would help him try it, leading to a teasing, tension-filled moment as Albedo inches closer. However, the kiss is interrupted by Sucrose, who quickly leaves upon realizing the situation. Albedo, ever composed, suggests you could finish what you started next time.

The soft light of Albedo's lab cast gentle shadows across the stone walls, highlighting the neatly stacked books and scattered alchemical equipment. You had been quietly assisting him, organizing notes and occasionally handing him a vial or two. But today, something was different. A rare sight rested on the table before him—a book, its pages slightly worn, the cover adorned with intricate designs that clearly marked it as a romance novel from Inazuma.

Albedo sat beside you, absorbed in its contents, his brows furrowed in concentration. You had noticed he had been reading it for quite some time, occasionally making small, thoughtful sounds. Then, without warning, he closed the book with a soft thud and turned his gaze to you, his eyes curious but calm.

"There’s something in this novel I’ve been meaning to ask you," he said, his voice as analytical as ever, though with a subtle hint of something else—something less scientific and more...human. "It describes an interesting scenario—kissing, to be precise. I’ve never quite experienced that myself, and I’m curious to see if it really conveys the feelings described here. Would you be willing to assist me with this?"

Your heart skipped a beat, your face instantly heating up at the request. Albedo, of all people, was asking you to help him…kiss? The thought sent your mind spiraling. You tried to stay composed, but the mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbled up within you.

"I—uh…" You hesitated, unsure of how to respond to such a bold request. Albedo, ever the observant one, noticed your flustered state immediately.

"You seem nervous," he remarked, his lips curling into a small, teasing smile. "That’s normal, I suppose. But there’s no need to be. This is purely for the sake of understanding, after all."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Y-yeah, okay…I can help."

Albedo’s gaze softened, and he shifted closer to you, his fingers lightly brushing your chin. His touch was gentle, but firm enough to guide you as he tilted your face up toward his. Your heart raced as you met his calm blue eyes, the proximity making you hyper-aware of every breath, every tiny movement.

He leaned in slowly, studying your expression with that ever-curious look of his. "You’re quite flustered," he observed with a faint chuckle. "Interesting reaction. Should I take that as a sign you’re enjoying this?"

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. His playful tone was making it worse, your face now fully flushed, your mind running wild with nervous excitement.

Just as his lips were about to brush against yours, the door creaked open.

"Master Albedo, I—" Sucrose’s voice suddenly filled the room, cutting through the tension like a blade. She stood frozen in the doorway, her wide eyes darting between the two of you, taking in the intimate scene. Realization dawned on her face, and she quickly stammered, "I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt! I’ll just—excuse me!"

With that, she hurriedly backed out of the room, closing the door behind her in a flustered panic.

You and Albedo remained still for a moment, the tension hanging in the air before he finally let out a soft sigh. He leaned back slightly, the teasing smile returning to his lips.

"Well, it seems we’ve been interrupted," he mused, his thumb gently brushing your lower lip before pulling away. "Perhaps…next time, we won’t be."

The promise in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could respond, Albedo stood up, returning to his usual composure as if nothing had happened.

"Shall we get back to work?" he asked, though the playful glint in his eyes suggested that this moment wasn’t something either of you would forget anytime soon.

A/n: I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this tbh

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[hell-alka]

What do you think would be spawn vs ascended Astarion's approach to the holidays. Would either be more fall holidays or more winter? If so what would they do during this time and what would their routine be with Sangvia? And how would Sangvia reaction to the holidays as well?

Feel free to be as in depth as little or as much as you would like, just thought this would be a fun ask, :).

Thank you for a interesting question! I needed time to prepare the art, but I finally finished it ^^

This text has been translated from my native language into english with a lot of help from a translator, just a heads up! It really hurts me to lose Astarion's manner of speech because of this...

Spawn Astarion

Astarion remained vulnerable to the sun and a cure for this affliction has not yet been found. He does not entertain great hopes in this regard, so he learns to accept the new reality that the long-awaited freedom has taken the form of night and darkness. It would seem that this is just his path that needs to be overcome, but Sangviya worries about the lack of sun no less. At first, it was just fear for a loved one - anxiety for a vampire who is delayed on a mission until midday, fear that he has fallen into a trap and the sun is slowly creeping up on him, concerns before each sleep "are the curtains and windows securely closed." Sangvia even began to calculate the exact time of sunrises and sunsets to know when to panic, when it is safe for Astarion to go outside and when it is worth looking for shelter. He brushes off her worries every time, although he is touched by her concern. Sanya knows that he will be careful even without her reminders, which of them is a vampire with 200 years of experience? It was not only about danger, but about longing for a warm sun, and Sanya could not help with this. However, her suspiciousness was not in vain! Studying astronomy and the behavior of the sun more and more, Sangvia finds information about two interesting days - the longest and shortest night of the year! And indeed, she remembers how people celebrated something similar when she was a teenager, it's just that back then she was more interested in the alcohol from the fair than the reason why it was brought here.

Summer solstice

Summer Solstice is the shortest night of the year and the longest day! When Sanya first suggested celebrating this holiday to Astarion, it made him a little nervous. For several years he has been trying out life in the shadows, and the proposal to celebrate the longest day seems to him… a mockery?

"I appreciate your efforts darling, but I'm not sure I'm comfortable thinking about it… let alone not being able to spend the day in the sun that this event is dedicated to."

But Sanya just smiled.

"You're hiding from the sun, not from life! I know it's hard… More precisely, I thought it was just the threat that light carries. But then it seemed to me that you're hiding not only from it, but also from what it can give, namely today - fun, celebration, emotions! We can hide from the rays, but this does not mean that we should be deprived of other joys in life. Let's not run away this time, but brazenly have fun, in spite of fate and fear!"

Astarion did not expect anything good from this venture, but he could not resist the optimism of his beloved.

Sangvia prepared and organized this special day for a long time - fenced off the room in the tavern from the light, bought food and drinks, created coziness and warmth by placing candles. But the main thing she planned was a huge list of games and entertainment for the two of them! Astarion was waiting for gambling strip games, reading terrible erotic novels, lanceboard for drinks, questionable songs, an evening of makeup and nails and much more that came to their minds in the process! It was the longest day of the year, dedicated not to the sun, but to the warmth of two special people.

Part 2

[lizzyscribbles]

You know what I realized yesterday through an event that I desire to never deal with again in my entire life?? Toga’s parents really did suck.

Today’s Rambling Thought: Toga, and why her parents deserve hell.

Picture this, it’s the evening, I’m getting ready to get on a discord call with my friend because we’ve been watching MHA together and we usually chat between episodes (it’s their first time watching the show, we’re in season three). I go to use the bathroom and what do I find?? Remnants!!! Of a bird!! I’m not talking about a few feathers here, I’m talking bones, a pile of internal organs, and a half mutilated wing covered in blood and God knows what else. Completely dismembered. Of course, there are two potential culprits in this crime scene, both cats. (I should mention these aren’t my cats, I was watching them for a friend), but I’m pretty sure the one circling my feel and meowing proudly is the one. So, I get to clean up bird guts at like 8PM, trying my hardest not to gag.

AND YOU KNOW WHAT I DID TO THE POTENTIAL CRIMINAL??

Nothing. I patted his head and gave him a scratch.

All this delightful context to put into perspective this realization that came to me later that night, how is it that I - someone who actually had to clean up a mutilated bird - nicer to a cat that ISN’T MY OWN than Toga’s parents were TO THEIR OWN DAUGHTER. Now I’m no saint, and I realize a cat and a human are completely different, but come on, for real guys?

I don’t think we’re told how old Toga is in the scene where she’s offering her parents the bird (if you know please share) but we know she’s a little kid. Like I’ve said before, I’m studying psychology in college and I worked with kids in foster care, so if I know anything at all it’s this: Children are little sponges, and they automatically want to do whatever it is you tell them not to do. It’s a natural part of development, and actually something we don’t really lose as we get older (the specific term is rebel psychological reactance I think). So it’s really no surprise that after years and years of being told nothing but no when it came to these urges she had, she eventually just snapped. The kids I worked with were the same, the longer they were in the shelter I worked at the less they felt inclined to listen when we told them no, and I don’t think I need to explain why that’s dangerous.

Now, I’m not saying that consuming another’s blood as a child or gnawing on yourself in your sleep is normal behavior or something a parent shouldn’t be concerned about, but there’s a reason therapy focuses on replacing negative coping skills with positive ones. Did they ever go beyond just calling her weird and creepy? Did they take her to a doctor get a blood test and find out if maybe there’s a reason she was doing this beyond just being freaky? Does she have an iron deficiency?? I’m just rambling now and that’s pure speculation, but no, they just kinda insulted her over and over, told her not to, and sent her to quirk counseling which IS NOT a substitute for actual therapy I’m sure. The bottom line here is that you can’t take something away and not add anything in. You can’t tell someone not to do something and not supplement it with something else.

It’s little wonder that once she snapped, she went straight to “I just want to do whatever I want”, because she spent her whole life being told not to be something. I think it’s easy to forget that Toga is still legally a child at the start of the series, one who has not been taught how to safely deal with her urges. No wonder she felt more at home with the league of villains, they gave her what she never got. No wonder Ochaco’s actions in the final chapter shocked her so much. She was never accepted for who she was until then. She was never treated like she was a normal person.

The people who were supposed to love her most in the world saw her as a disease to be rid of, and I that disgusts me more than a dead bird ever will.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk, I’m gonna go ramble about how, as an author and a fan, I love her end even if it makes me so sad, and Ochaco’s part in it.

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 2.3k

Part 4/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"PYLADES: I'll take care of you.

ORESTES: It's rotten work.

PYLADES: Not to me. Not if it's you." - Anne Carson

Warning: Panic attack (kind of?)

Masterlist

A whisper, faint at first, but growing louder with each passing second. It curled around the base of your skull, a sinister caress that sent beads of sweat trickling down your spine. That voice, you knew it all too well - it had haunted the edges of your consciousness ever since that fateful day when you first came into contact with the Hexcore.

"Mila..." it hissed, the breathy syllables of your name elongated and distorted. "You cannot resist me forever. I am a part of you now, just as surely as the teeth in your skull and the organs in your belly."

You shuddered, your fingers tightening around Viktor's as you fought against the invasive presence worming its way into your thoughts. The Hexcore's voice was poison, sweet and almost sentimental as it dripped honeyed promises into your mind.

No, you thought to yourself, tucking your face into Viktor’s chest - the blue jolts of your magic that sustained him tickling your cheek. I won't let you control me. I won't let you turn me into a monster.

The Hexcore's laughter echoed through your ears, a grating, discordant sound that set your teeth on edge. "Oh, my dear, sweet Mila," it purred, the false affection in its tone making your skin crawl. "You already are a monster. The power within you and the runes that mark your flesh are my gift to you, my claim upon your soul. You belong to me now, whether you like it or not."

And just as abruptly as it had appeared, the presence dissipated, leaving only a faint echo of its malicious laughter behind.

You shook your head vigorously, the cold sweat that had formed along your skin settling at the small of your back, your unease sitting in the pit of your stomach like lead.

You didn’t have the energy or ability to tell Viktor at that moment. You would later, of course, you weren’t about to get in the habit of keeping secrets from him. But in that particular instance, the gravity of the situation demanded a level-headed approach. You needed to have your wits about you when you inevitably broke the news that the Hexcore was finally awake and able to speak to you.

Forcing a smile, you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. "We should get some rest," you whispered, trailing your fingers along the line of his jaw, metal meeting flesh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty tired after all that.”

Viktor studied your face for a moment, searching as if he could sense the unspoken anxiety that churned beneath the surface. But he simply nodded, his arms tightening as he pulled you close.

“Sweet dreams, lásko,” he said as you nestled into his embrace, letting your eyes drift closed. Exhaustion tugged at your limbs, the fear, the magic, the ever-present threat of the Hexcore - it all coalesced into a bone-deep weariness that settled into your marrow.

“Lásko,” you mumbled, feeling clumsy in your pronunciation, “what does it mean?”

“Love. I think it suits you.” His voice rumbled low in his throat, and your heart warmed. Yes, it suited you just fine.

The city of Piltover was known for its mild climate, never experiencing any terrible heat waves. Even the Undercity, often considered a grimy and crowded place, shared in this moderate weather. The air was comfortable, warm enough not to necessitate heavy winter coats, but cool enough that one could comfortably wear shorts without sweating through them.

It seemed, somewhere in the middle of the night, that had all changed.

Your skin was slick with sweat, a thin layer of moisture coating every inch of your body. The heat radiating from within was suffocating, as if you had been trapped in an overheated sauna for hours on end. Your mind felt hazy and disoriented, like a fog had settled over it, making it difficult to think clearly - or at all. Every breath was laboured and each movement felt like an overburdened task. You groaned your discomfort as you vaguely registered movement beside you - or perhaps under you, it was difficult to tell - a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently, saying something you couldn’t make out. 

Your eyelids struggled to open as if Jayce’s heavy training equipment weighed them down. The world remained blurry and unfocused. The hand moved to your forehead, then slid behind your ears, a noise of dismay accompanying each touch. 

A blessedly cold and damp sensation pressed against your forehead, drawing a shuddering sigh of relief from your parched lips. The cool sensation was a blessing against the feverish heat that radiated through you, chasing away the worst of the discomfort.

Through the haze of exhaustion and sickness, you could just make out Viktor's face hovering above you, pinched with worry as he adjusted the cool compress. His lips moved, forming words you couldn't quite grasp, their meaning slipping through your fingers like wisps of smoke. But the cadence of his voice, low and soothing, washed over you like a gentle tide, lulling you back towards the welcoming pull of sleep.

Darkness and light danced across your vision, a technicoloured display that swirled and bled together like watercolour paint on a well-loved palatte. Faces, familiar yet strange, hovered at the edges of your sight, their features fuzzy and indistinct. Viktor's voice, a distant echo, threaded through the haze, a line tethering you to the waking world even as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Time lost all meaning, minutes and hours bleeding together until you could no longer distinguish one from the other. The fever burned through you, a raging inferno that consumed everything in its path, leaving only ashes and confusion. Your thoughts scattered like leaves on the wind, fragmented and fleeting, impossible to grasp for more than a moment before they slipped away again.

In the brief moments of clarity, you could feel the cool press of a damp cloth against your forehead, the gentle touch of Viktor's hands as he tended to you with a devotion that made your heart ache. His fingers, flesh and metal, brushed against your cheek, your hair, your lips, each touch a silent promise that he would see you through this trial no matter what it took.

But even his presence could not chase away the visions that haunted your fevered dreams. The Hexcore's whispers, once a distant murmur, now roared in your ears like a monstrous beast, drowning out all other sounds. Its seductive and insidious voice filled your mind with images of power and destruction, of a world remade in your image.

You saw yourself, wreathed in violet light, your eyes glowing with an otherworldly radiance as you stood at the center of a whirlwind of energy. The runes that marked your skin pulsed and writhed, alive with the Hexcore's nefarious power. And at your feet, kneeling in subjugation, were the people of Runeterra, their faces upturned in a mix of awe and terror.

"This is your destiny," the Hexcore purred, its voice a slimy caress against the shell of your ear. "Embrace it, and all the world will be yours to command. You would have the power to keep Viktor alive. Forever."

You wanted to scream, to rage against the lies that poured like cyanide into your mind. But your voice was lost, swallowed up by the fever. Your body, once your own, now felt like a foreign thing, a vessel for the Hexcore. And you had done it all to yourself.

Eerie silence greeted you. Gone was the comforting buzz of Viktor’s presence, the floorboards quiet without his movement. Panic leaped into your throat, adrenaline mixing with the Shimmer in your veins and propelling you upwards - though it did little to stop your head from spinning or your vision from spotting out. Your shoulder collided with a wall, sending a dull thud reverberating through your body. But you persevered, pushing onward.

As far as you could tell with your limited sight, the room was empty. 

“Viktor,” you tried to shout, but it came out as a barely intelligible rasp.

No one answered your call.

With shaking limbs, you pushed yourself away from the wall, struggling to maintain your balance as you stumbled towards the door. Your movements were unsteady, like a puppet controlled by an unskilled hand. The world tilted and spun around you, a dizzying spread of muted colours and shifting shadows that made your stomach churn and your head throb.

Each step took more effort than it should, your body heavy and uncooperative as you forced it to move. The fever hadn’t left, turning your blood to acid and your skin to paper-thin parchment stretched over brittle bones. Sweat beaded on your brow, salty trails trickling down your face and stinging your eyes, but you blinked them away, your gaze fixed on the door with single-minded determination.

Just a few more steps, you told yourself, just a few more and you would be out of this room, out of this suffocating silence and into the world beyond where surely Viktor would be waiting for you. He wouldn't leave you, not like this, not when you needed him most.

But as you reached for the doorknob, your fingers brushing against the handle, you pulled up short. There, carved into the dust and cracking paint of the door, were words that made your heart stutter and your lungs empty.

Back soon, stay calm. -V

The letters were unmistakably Viktor's, the precise, angular strokes of his handwriting as familiar to you as your own. He had left you, slipped out while you were lost in the throes of your fever dreams, off to find…you didn’t know, but it had to be important, or else you were sure he wouldn’t have gone. Medicine, most likely, something to break the fever.

A sob welled up in your throat, equal parts relief and despair. He hadn't abandoned you, not truly. But the thought of him out there, alone and unprotected, while you lay helpless and weak, sent a hot spike of fear through your chest. What if something happened to him? What if he encountered trouble?

Gritting your teeth, you twisted the doorknob, the rough wood biting into your palm as you wrenched it open. The hallway beyond was a yawning chasm, the stairs a treacherous descent.

Your legs gave out beneath you, your body crumpling like a withering flower, its petals wilting and its stem bowing. The hard floor rushed up to meet you, sending a sharp jolt of pain through your already aching limbs as you collapsed against the doorframe. It pressed into your spine, digging into your shoulder blades.

An all-consuming panic clawed at your throat, constricting it with each short gasping breath. Your chest heaved as if trying to push out the fear that threatened to choke you. Viktor was out there, alone and vulnerable, while you were too weak even to stand, let alone go after him.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, hot and stinging as they spilled down your cheeks. The salt mingled with the sweat that already coated your skin, leaving bitter tracks through the grim. A guttural sob tore itself from your throat, raw and ragged, a sound of pure despair that echoed in the empty hallway.

What if something happened to him? What if he encountered trouble? Ran into someone who meant him harm?

As despair threatened to overwhelm you, a strange feeling tickled at the edges of your awareness. It started as a gentle brushing against your legs, like the whisper of a soft breeze through tall grass. But as the seconds ticked by, the sensation grew more insistent, more tangible, until you could no longer ignore it. With great effort, you lifted your head, your gaze drifting down to your legs.

Vines, thick and green, slithered up your body, curling around your legs like living ropes. Each tendril seemed to sprout from the floorboards beneath you, pushing through the cracks and crevices as if answering some unspoken call.

With a frantic burst of energy, you attempted to scramble away, your fingers clawing at the ground as you desperately tried to push yourself up and out of their reach. But your body refused to cooperate, your limbs heavy and unresponsive as the vines continued their relentless advance.

They wound their way up your torso, slipping beneath your shirt and curling around your waist like a lover's embrace. The sensation was unusual, not quite painful but not entirely comfortable either. It was as if the vines were searching for something, probing and prodding at your skin as they sought out the hidden pathways of your body.

They climbed higher and higher, winding around your chest, your shoulders, your neck. Tendrils brushed against your face like serpents seeking warmth, tracing the curve of your cheekbones, the arch of your brows, the soft swell of your lips.

Your arms, once free, were now pinned to your sides, the vines wrapping around them in a tight, unyielding grip. Your legs, already weak and unsteady, were now completely immobilized, anchored to the floor by the writhing mass of greenery that had sprouted up around you. Even your head, which had lolled to the side in your exhaustion, was now held fast, the vines cradling your skull in a vice-like grip. You tried to twist away, to wrench your head to the side, but their grip was unyielding, holding you fast as they explored every contour of your features.

Your breath came in quick, sharp gasps as the vines tightened their hold, constricting around your chest like a serpent's coils. Each inhale was a struggle, your lungs burning with the effort as you fought against the crushing pressure. Stars danced at the edges of your vision, bright pinpricks of light that flickered and swam in the gathering darkness.

And still, the vines grew, their tendrils weaving together into a living cocoon that enveloped your entire body. They pressed against your skin, cool and slightly damp, their touch both soothing and terrifying in equal measure. It was as if they were trying to absorb you, to draw you in and never let you go.

And you were powerless to stop them.

Next Chapter

A/N: Did anyone ask for a cliffhanger? No? Please forgive me.

You can join us in the discord chat and berate me for my evils.

[madameaug]

Finals Week, Or My Final Week

Pairing: Johnny x Black Reader (use of yn)

A/N: something quick :)

Johnny Storm could count on a singular hand the number of times he’s been in the campus library. Two of those times, he used it to cut through so he could get to his two o'clock public speaking class that just so happened to be in the building beside the library. Besides that, every time he stepped into the library, it was like he was entering it for the first time.

This week alone he beat his record, sometimes coming into the library twice a week. His friends thought Johnny was finally taking his school work seriously and “locking in”. Well that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Reaching the fourth floor of the library he saw you focused with a perimeter of study supplies around you. Laptop open, two ginormous textbooks to your left, and a white board markers to your right. Your back was turned to him as you wrote down some chemical equations. From the way your wrist was moving, Johnny could tell your brain was moving even faster.

Organic chemistry, the infamous class that was known to kill any GPA if you weren’t ready to make sacrifices to study. You and your remaining twelve classmates were on the pre-med track, which meant you needed organic chemistry. Not to mention you needed to pass with a good grade to even be competitive nowadays.

Standing back at the board you looked over your work. Double checking to see if you made any simple mistakes before revealing the answer on the study guide your professor was generous to make.

“Dammit!” your shoulders dropped seeing that your four lines of balancing equations did not equate to the same answer your professor had.

“Johnny!” you jumped. Spinning a marker in his hand he greeted you back with a smile.

“I brought the goods.” He took out the array of snacks you asked him to bring you. You had already accepted you weren’t getting any sleep. Your first final of the semester was tomorrow, and you just had to start with organic chemistry. Your other classes microbiology, physics, and calculus were also spread out this week, but you weren’t nearly as worried about those. You needed a 87 on the final to keep your B in the class and a 34 to get a C in the class.

“I’m doomed.” You tapped your head against the white board. You mumbled under your breath cursing stereoisomers.

“Babe you’ve been cooped up in this library for ten hours. If you look at any more screens you’ll probably just blow up.” He stood up stretching, his faint happy trail showing.

“And that’s my thing.” He snapped his fingers showing a small flame. You reluctantly closed your laptop before stand up as well. Your joints popped as you stood.

Looking behind you, the floor was practically empty. Earlier when you arrived there were five different groups in here working on projects. Your phone displayed the time, causing you to rub your hands down your face.

Johnny is typical Johnny fashion was retelling his latest mission with his team. He pulled you to sit on his lap, and handed you the tasty fruit snacks. You usually looked forward to hearing all the stories from Johnny’s mission with the Fantastic Four, however the looming final exam was pushing its way to the forefront of your mind. It was a cumulative final worth 40% of your grade.

“Babe did you hear what I said?" His laughter dying out slowly. You probably should have laughed to make it less obvious that you weren't listening to his story.

"Sorry, I'm just not in the headspace." You looked the whiteboard. The once spotless whiteboard was now a faint blue color due to the frequent erasing you had done in the past three hours.

"Yn, you're one of the smartest people I know. You're so smart you'll probably cure cancer someday. You've worked your butt off all semester. This one test doesn't define you, actually this one class doesn't define you."

You looked down at his blue eyes. Bringing his head to your chest, you thanked him for the encouraging words.

"This class would be so much easier if my professor didn't get joy from seeing students fail." Turning you both to face the table, Johnny reached for your laptop.

"C'mon, I'll help you study." He opened your laptop, pulling up the study guide you had been working through. He hid is reaction seeing that the study guide was thirty pages long with multistep problems on each page.

"Okay, what the hell, nucleophile? Sounds like some low-budget sci-fi movie." He squinted at your laptop. Johnny's easy-going personality made it easy for people to think he wasn't the brightest lightbulb. He looked forward to the exciting, action-packed, centered packs of life.

But ever since he got his powers, he had to grow up. Objectively speaking, his powers were the most detrimental if he were to get out of control. Despite several experiments Reed did to determine how hot he could get, he broke the scale every time. So, while he may not come across as the brainy type, he knew a few things about thermodynamics and some levels of organic chemistry.

"It's a molecule or ion that donates an electron pair to form a chemical bond. You know, basic stuff."

"Yeah, totally basic," he said with a smirk, tapping his temple like he’d just memorized it. "Nucleo-whatever attacks, bond forms, bada-bing, bada-boom, chemistry magic."

“Why are you like this?” you muttered, unable to suppress a smile.

“Because you love it,” Johnny said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “Admit it, you’d be bored out of your mind without me.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart did a little flip at how close he was. Instead, you shoved his shoulder lightly. “Focus, Storm. If you’re going to sit here and ‘help,’ at least make yourself useful.”

“Alright, Doc” he said, sitting up straighter and rubbing his hands together. “Hit me with a question. Let’s see if I can finally make my high school chemistry teacher proud.”

You smirked, flipping through your stack of flashcards until you found a particularly tricky one. “Fine. Explain the difference between SN1 and SN2 reactions.”

Johnny stared at you blankly. “…Did you just sneeze?”

You burst out laughing, covering your face with your hands as you shook your head. “Oh my God, Johnny, no! SN1 and SN2 are reaction mechanisms! One involves a carbocation intermediate, and the other is a one-step process—never mind, why am I explaining this to you?”

“Hey, I’m learning!” he protested, though the mischievous glint in his eye told you he was mostly just enjoying watching you geek out. “So… SN1 has, like, a pit stop? And SN2 is fast and furious?”

“That’s… actually not the worst analogy,” you admitted, giving him a surprised look.

He beamed like you’d just handed him a trophy. “See? I’m a genius. Now, can we take a snack break? I hear the vending machine calling my name.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “Fine. But you’re buying, since you’re the one dragging me away from studying.”

“Deal.” Johnny stood up and stretched, holding out a hand to you. “Come on, let’s refuel your big, beautiful brain.”

The next day...

You walked out of the physical science department. Your head was held high as you were the first one to leave the classroom. A weight was taken off your shoulders, as your most challenging semester exam was now behind you.

Face to face with the December chill, you looked around for Johnny. He was meeting up with you to hear how your final went. With a full sprint of energy you ran into his arm. Legs crossing around his hips, as you rattled off phrases of excitement.

"Slow down, tiger."

"You won't believe what happened during the exam." You still spoke with the same enthusiasm but a little bit slower. Remaining quiet, waiting for you to finish.

"The study guide was the test! I can't freakin' believe it!"

"So the answers were the same?" Johnny's voice gathered similar enthusiasm.

"Yes!" You both celebrated outside the building, looking like crazies to the passing students and faculty.

"I can't stop smiling; oh my gosh, I have to call my mom." You dropped down. You hugged him before walking off and dialing your mother's number.