#which... is half of her personality and i love her for it 😌 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckys-wintersoldier · 7 months ago

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Light after Dark | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You ex-boyfriend never treated you well but when Bucky steps into your life it changes and he shows you how much he loves you. Would the behaviour you had with your ex-boyfriend be there because Bucky looks distanced.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 10.057 (it’s long but worth it, guess so)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, angst, abusing ex-boyfriend, violence, slapping, shouting, wound/scars because of abuse, smut, non/dub-con, manipulation, blowjob, deep throating, nipple play, handjob (male!receiving), cum eating, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), protected p in v, multiple orgasm, belly bulge, praises, fluff

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hello hello! It's me, again. Got bit of an angsty idea. Let's say that reader has an abusive ex, and this dude was physically and emotionally draining. She never had a single nice thought about herself in three years. She always thought she had big thighs, or wide hips etc etc. And let's say that she does have some scars from her ex, whenever he used to beer bottles at her they'd crash and cut her. She always thought she was not worthy, because he used to cheat on her all the time. Now, presently, we're with Bucky. And nowadays Bucky has been a little irritated and distant. And you think the worse, and your defense mechanism come up. Back with your ex, you used to cook good food and make so much effort (but your asshole ex never bothered) Bucky is confused why there's whole royal course of a meal on the table when he comes home. You don't want to point out the obvious and say it's for nothing, but it's really because you don't want him to leave. Bucky knows something is up, but how does he approach the situation???🤭🤭🤭This was pretty long lol (Again you don't have to write this if you’re uncomfy😌😌) Okie BYE!! @amathslutsguidetofandom

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for the request. I absolutely love it and I hope you like what I made with that. Also wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for listening to me, and helping me with some parts during writing.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Come one, can’t you get your shit together? It’s not that hard,” he shouted at you, throwing his hands up while he looked at you.

His expression was disgusted, and he was disappointed — because of you, like he always was. You just asked him to help you with the plates, but he was annoyed, mad that you couldn’t do it without annoying him. You didn’t want to annoy him; it was never your intention, but you’re tired — working hard in the household every day, sleeping only half of the night — and he never appreciates what you did. He wanted to have a meal — a proper meal — but you presented him with something he didn’t want to eat that day. How could you dare to cook soup when he wants meat?

“Take your plate and sit on the floor,” he told you, pointing next to him on the ground.

“P—please. I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

He rolled his eyes, and not even now have you done what he told you. Alex placed his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down until you were sitting next to him on the floor. He used his hand under your chin to tilt your head up, forcing you to lock in with him. Alex let go of your chin, smirking at you before his hand met your cheek painfully. You hissed, tears building in your eyes, but you swallowed harshly and looked down on your plate, which was lying in front of you.

“Shut your mouth. I don’t wanna hear a fucking word."

Your body started to tremble, but you stayed quiet. Alex laughed, turning to the plate in front of him and sliding the spoon through it a few times. He hadn’t tried the soup you cooked; he stared at the plate. That’s nothing a person like him would eat; Alex deserved better than soup. He deserved to be treated well. He turned his face, seeing you sitting in the same position since he smacked your face. You weren’t saying a word; your hands were shaking, and you tried to hide your tears. He took the plate in one of his hands, holding it above you. With a sadistic expression, he let the soup fall down on you.

“Oh— sorry. I forgot you’re not the trash,” he said.

You whimpered, feeling the hot liquid covering your body and burning your skin. Alex watched you and the way the soup soaked your clothes. He then stood up and pushed you to the side; you were curled up in yourself, crying silently while he just kicked you. Alex walked out of the kitchen, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess lying on the ground. Alex just left the house when you started crying more.

Almost half of the night you were lying on the ground, your body trembling, and you cried until there was no tear left anymore. You loved that man; you feel in love with him because he was caring; he made you feel good and appreciated you. But you feel like you were the reason for him being the way he is now. Maybe you were too fat, maybe your food wasn’t good, maybe you didn’t do things like you should do then? You often thought about it already — sleepless nights while Alex was sleeping next to you, smelling like a bottle of alcohol itself while he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Somewhere in the night, you heard the keys in the door. Your body tensed immediately while you pretend to be sleeping on the couch. Alex knew you weren't, and even when he would wake you up, he was drunk and frustrated.

“Babe, come here now. You little bitch,” he shouted through the house, and you sat up. “I won’t repeat myself, slut.”

You slowly walked toward him, holding your arms tightly around your body to cover yourself a bit. He grinned when he saw you walking closer to him; you look so small, while he felt so good looking at your scared form in front of him. Alex was holding a bottle of beer in his hand, and he took a sip, groaning when he noticed that the bottle was empty.

“Alex, y—you should go to bed,” you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrow.

You dared to say something, telling him what he had to do. He didn’t think twice when he lifted the bottle and smashed it against your head. The glass broke and left a bloody wound on your head. You whimpered and tried to hide the tears from rolling down your cheeks, but he saw it, and it made him chuckle even more. Now you knew that you shouldn’t tell him what to do, or else Alex would show you that you were his own little toy to treat and fuck you however he wanted.

“Get on your knees.”

“P—please. C—can I just clean the wound?”

“Get on your knees, or I will give you more than just this one to clean. Fucking little bitch,” he hissed, grabbing your chin harshly.

You whined, trying to turn your face away, but he was too strong for you. So you needed to look directly into his eyes while he leaned closer, and you smelled his breath — which smelled like nothing but alcohol. You pushed the urge to look disgusted away, but when he leaned even closer and captured your lips with his, you tried to pull away from him. His tongue slid over your lips, and when you weren’t parting your lips, he just smacked your cheek to make you hiss in pain. Then you opened your mouth, and he was able to guide his tongue into it. You felt disgusted, but you loved him, and when it was what he wanted, you wouldn’t deny it; otherwise, he would still do it. He has control over your relationship, as he showed you. Alex pulled away from you, leaving you panting while he smirked and pushed you down on your knees.

“Suck my fucking dick. Other girls would beg me to suck it, so why are you complaining about my dick, huh? Thinking you’re pretty? You’re not; have you seen your ugly, fat thighs? I would be ashamed to show them someone,” he said, and you nodded.

You didn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks; you felt so ashamed and embarrassed for looking the way you do. With shaking hands, you gasped his belt and unbuckled it. Opening his pants before you shoved them down his legs. You saw the outline of his dick in his pants, but he wasn’t hard. When you looked at his dick a moment too long for his liking, he cleared his throat, grasped your hair, and pushed you closer.

“Do you really think I will be turned on when I see you? You’re just a little ugly slut,” he said, laughing about the tears in your eyes.

You knew you weren't the most beautiful person, but even when you heard that for three years now, it was still hurtful. Alex always told you that he could have everyone, that everyone wanted to be with him, but he was together with you, even when it’s just because you couldn’t be without him — that’s what he was always saying.

You pushed his boxers down as well, revealing his soft cock. Alex took his shaft in his hand, stroking himself a few times before he pulled you closer and tapped his dick against your lips. You opened your mouth slightly, and when he managed to push into you, he immediately rammed his dick down your throat. He never paid attention to how you felt when you had sex; he didn’t care. You gagged around his length, trying to get used to it, but he had already started to thrust into you. His cock always slid down your throat, and his balls slapped against your chin. His hand in your hair guided you over his cock, and he slapped your cheeks a few times, causing more tears in your eyes.

“You’re such a fucking little slut, aren’t you? That’s the only thing you can do. Sucking my cock."

Your nails were digging into your tights, trying to ground you while he held you on his cock. He was deep in your mouth and throat, and you tried not to panic, but when he didn’t let you pull back, you wiggled softly, trying to move away from his length. But he didn’t let you move away; he was holding you with his cock in your mouth in place. When he was finally letting go of you, you pulled away and breathed deeply, crying quietly, while he grabbed your chin once again. His eyes darkened as he looked into yours. And you knew you shouldn’t have tried to pull away from him.

“Do you wanna kidding me? Making a scene like that?” He asked, looking disappointed at you.

He didn’t wait for an answer before he pushed his dick back inside your mouth. His hips thrusted forward, he groaned, and you felt his dick twitch in your mouth just before he came in your mouth. His cum was sliding down your throat, and he pulled away, smacking your face again before he pointed toward the couch.

“A—Alex.”

“Can’t you just keep your mouth shut? You annoy me. You’re my girlfriend, and your boyfriend wants to fuck you now.”

When you woke up next to your boyfriend, your pussy was aching. He fucked you rough, never minding if it would hurt you or if you enjoyed this sex too. You were slowly getting up, and you felt disgusted with the mixture of sweat and cum on your body. So you walked to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake him. You really needed a hot shower, so you did exactly that. A hot, relaxing shower was perfect for your arching pussy and your tensed muscles, but when you heard Alex shouting that the breakfast wasn’t ready, you panicked again. You should have done the breakfast first and then thought about a shower. He swung the door of your shared bathroom open, narrowing his eyebrows.

“Do you think you could take a shower before making breakfast for me?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“I’m sorry—“

He walked closer, towering over you and pulling the towel away, leaving you naked in front of him. Alex looked your body up and down, slapping your breast and causing you to gasp.

“Have you looked into the mirror? Look how ugly you are, and your pussy, only great because she is still tight,” he said, turning around to took a shower as well.

You wrapped your arms around your body, trying to cover it. He is right; you’re ugly, and you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Your body is covered with scars — scars he caused with beer bottles or when he just hit you hard enough. You bent down to lift your towel, wrapping it around you, and got out of the bathroom to change into leggings and a t-shirt. Then you made your way to the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for the two of you.

It didn’t take long until Alex walked into the kitchen. He smirked at you when you looked so small compared to him since you tried to make yourself small around him. And especially because he can see the respect or more fear you have in your eyes when you look at him. You placed the plates on the table, both of you taking a seat, and you ate in silence; you didn’t want to annoy him. When he was finished, he looked at you, shoving his plate closer to you.

"You already made better food. I want you to clean until I come home from the meeting,” he told you.

“Oke,” you said, taking the plates to put them in the other dishes to clean them later.

Alex went to work, and you needed to clean. You weren’t really motivated to do so, but you didn’t want him to be angry at you again. So you started in the kitchen and then went to the living room. When you were almost finished, you heard Alex coming back home, and your muscles were immediately tensed.

“Lunch?”

“I cleaned and haven’t-“

“I don’t mind. You have to bring lunch to the table, and you didn’t once again,” he said.

“Thought I told you that when you’re not doing what I said, I will break up. You want that? No? But you did it, no. Lazy ass didn’t do what she was told.”

You whimpered, but he shook his head, pointing to the door of the apartment. And grasped your arm to pull you closer to the door. It was raining outside, and you knew he didn’t mind; he would let you wait outside until he allowed you to come back into the apartment. Alex went back inside and left you in front of the door. Your clothes were immediately soaked because of the rain, and you felt the cold all over your body. You were freezing, but he wouldn't let you into the apartment until he wasn't mad anymore. So you sat on the ground, your back against the wall, and your legs were pulled against you while you wrapped your arms around them. You cried quietly, trying to warm yourself up a bit while the cold rain was wetting your whole body.

"Hi, are you oke? Aren't you freezing?" A soft voice asked, and you looked at the man in front of you.

He was kneeling, offering you his hand, but you just smiled at him. He saw that it wasn't a real one, but he didn't want to pressure you. His brown hair was as wet as you were, but he didn't mind. He also didn't mind taking off his jacket and placing it over your shoulders.

"Thank you," you mumbled.

"I'm Bucky, and you?" He asked softly, his hand resting on your knees.

The warmth of his body warmed you a bit as well, and his steel blue eyes and the smile on his lips warmed your heart. You admired his blue eyes; he looked soft and beautiful.

"I'm Y/N"

"And what is a pretty girl like you doing outside in the rain?"

You blushed and turned your face away. Bucky smirked, looking at you, while he tried to find out why you were sitting there with a bruise on your pretty face. He hadn't seen that one before, but when he did, he reached out to slide his fingers over your face to turn it toward him. You hissed, trying to escape his fingers even when his touch was way softer than Alex's. Bucky removed his hand and waited until you were ready to face him again.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know I would scare you. I don't want to hurt you, but where are the bruises from?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"Nothing, really. I just- I just walked against the counter yesterday. I was stupid and ignored the open door of the counter. And I'm sitting here because I forgot my keys," you tell him.

Bucky nodded. He didn't really believe you, but he didn't want to push you either. When he noticed someone opening the door behind you, he got up to face the person behind you.

"You little slut, didn't I tell you to get pizza?" Alex asked, ignoring Bucky, who furrowed his eyebrows.

"Alex, you didn't say that you wanted pizza," you said quietly, looking at your hands.

"Don't dare to talk back, or you can spend the rest of the night here as well," he shouted at you, and you flinched.

Bucky's jaw was clenching when he saw the way Alex treated you, and when you got up from where you were sitting, Bucky reached out to grab your shoulder and pushed you behind him. Alex was laughing about it; his eyes were piercing into Bucky's.

"Do you think someone like him would treat you better? You're nothing but slut, a dumb little bitch," he said to you even when he was looking at Bucky.

You whimpered softly, but before you were able to say something, you saw Bucky's arm flying forward, and a moment later, your boyfriend was walking backwards, his hand covering his nose while he hissed in pain. Bucky just broke his nose with one punch, and you saw the blood slowly running down his chin, and Alex's hand was covered in it as well. You weren't sure if you felt scared or thankful that Bucky protected you for your boyfriend.

"Fucking slut. I'm gonna break up with you; fuck your new lover; he won't love you the way I loved you," he said, shutting the door and leaving you with Bucky in front of it.

Bucky turned around, seeing you crying, and, with widening eyes, looking at him broke his heart. He didn't want to scare you more, but he was just too angry at Alex for treating you the way he did. Bucky smiled nicely, opening his arms for you to decide if you wanted him to hug you or not. You hesitated a moment, but his warmth and the way he protected you made you crave more. So you walked closer toward him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you as close as possible. You placed your hand on his chest, inhaling his sweet-mint scent, and closed your eyes for a moment.

For the first time in years, you felt saved and loved. Someone could really like you the way you are. Bucky didn't know you, but he gave you the warmth you never got from your ex-boyfriend. His touches were soft, and you enjoyed the warmth and softness of them.

"You will come home with me. You can sleep in my bed then; I prefer the floor in the living room," Bucky said.

You were freezing, and when Bucky already offered you his bed and maybe a warm shower, you would definitely say yes. So you nodded softly, and Bucky lifted you up, his hands resting under your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist while you placed your hands around his neck. You looked at him with a smirk, and Bucky grinned just as much as you did. Only then did you realise his beautiful blue eyes, which light up when he smiles, like he did.

"Can I take a shower then as well? And Bucky, I think I'm too heavy for you to carry me home," you say quietly.

"You can also take a long, warm bath if you want to. And don't worry, you're not too heavy for me," he chuckled and gave you some butterflies in your stomach, causing you to giggle softly.

"I'm home, doll," Bucky shouts through the apartment you both live in now.

Bucky takes off his jacket and shoes and makes his way into the kitchen. He inhales the smell of the food deeply, smiling when he sees the plates filled with his favourite food on the table. He walks around the table, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Bucky places his chin on your shoulder and looks at you while you're cooking.

When Bucky picked you up that day, you met him for the first time. He brought you to his home, and like he said, you were allowed to take a long, warm bath, and you slept in his bed. It was the first time in forever that you felt safe. Bucky made breakfast in the morning — a lot of breakfast because he wasn't sure what you liked to eat, so he made pancakes and French toast, and he offered you cereal. When you finished the dinner, he asked you to look over your wounds, and when you allowed him to do so, he picked you up to carry you into the bathroom and placed you on the edge of the bathtub. Bucky slowly moved his fingers over your thighs, and when you looked away because you were ashamed, he told you how beautiful you are.

Bucky took off your shirt, revealing a lot of scars and wounds all over your body. The hiss that left his lips made you flinch, but he assured you that he was just shocked that such a beautiful person like you has an ex-boyfriend like Alex. Bucky cleaned all your wounds; he didn't say that you were ugly. His words surprised you every time because he always admired your body, and he still does. The two of you came closer when Bucky offered you to stay with him, so you both would have someone, and you said yes, but your behaviour with your ex-boyfriend needed time to slowly fade away.

Bucky was really confused when you were always up before him when you made the meals and always studied his expression to see if it was good or not. With time, Bucky learned to tell you that the food is good, that he would like to cook with you together, and that he is going to help you with the dishes. Bucky took care to always tell you when he got home and to tell you what he would like to eat, or he told you to decide. When you were unsure, Bucky helped you decide, but he never pressured you. His only intention was to make you happy because he could never get enough of your beautiful smile.

Whenever you were looking into the mirror and a disgusted expression was on your face while a few tears fell down your cheeks — you wanted to be at least a bit handsome — Bucky smirked and was standing next to you, and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. He took off his shirt and showed you the scars on his own body. The bunch of scars around his metal arm, but also the others. He showed you a side of himself that was also just a broken man, and you fell in love with that side just as much as you fell in love with the strong Bucky who would punch everyone to protect you.

When you suddenly got woken up by a scream and you were scared your ex-boyfriend was shouting at you, you needed a moment to remember that you were with Bucky. It confused you at first why you heard a scream, but when you heard another and then a noise that sounded like a punch, you got up to find Bucky sleeping on the floor in the living room. It wasn't new to you to see him lying there, but when you saw the tears rolling down his cheeks and the sweat on his forehead, you walked closer to place your hand on his shoulder. He woke up immediately and tried to wipe the tears away, but everything in his body told you that he had a really bad nightmare. You sat in his lap; your arms were around his neck, and you were sliding your fingers through his soft brown hair. Bucky had his face hidden in the crock of your neck. You being close to him is just as helpful for him as his being close to you to feel safe and comfortable.

You never judge him for having nightmares, for not being comfortable around too many people, or for struggling with his scars and mental health sometimes. And he gives you the same; he never dares to judge you. Bucky tries to show you how beautiful you are, that you're worth it, and that you are and can be more than you think. And he loves you the way you are, just like you love him the way he is.

Slowly, you get used to being good the way you are, and Bucky will never shout at you or hurt you. But for a while, he has looked irritated and distant. He comes home late, and even when he says it's nothing, you feel like you have done something that makes him mad or that he loves you less. So you try to be better, clean the apartment more often, cook what he loves, and try not to be too clingy around him.

"It smells beautiful," he says, kissing your neck softly.

You lean into his touch, smiling, while you finish the dinner. His hands are trailing up and down your sides, and you feel the goosebumps erupting all over your body. You love his soft, warm touches, his kiss all over your neck, and the way his breath hits your soft skin.

"There is something in the oven," you say, and Bucky takes a step back to walk to the oven. "You can just take a seat; dinner is almost done."

Bucky looks slightly confused. Usually, you wouldn't mind his help, but for a few days, you don't ask or let him help you with food and dishes anymore. You cook a lot of what he loves, and the meals are almost royalty meals. He doesn't mind eating your food because he loves what you do, but he wonders why you suddenly act like you did when he first met you. He walks around the table and takes his seat. He looks at you with a soft smile, but he still doesn't understand why you put so much effort into cleaning and cooking.

"How come you cook such royal meals?" He asks softly but sees you flinch.

You constantly feel like you have done something wrong; maybe that's not what Bucky likes? Maybe you shouldn't have cooked that? Bucky wants, probably, a pizza. You feel the tears building in your eyes, and when you turn around, you see Bucky's smile fading away. He looks with a worried expression at you while he gets up and walks closer to you. You shake your head, walking backwards and crashing into the kitchen counter behind you.

"Doll, can I please come closer? I can stand here when you feel comfortable, but please let me come closer," he says, and you hesitate a moment.

Bucky stands a few meters away from you, waiting for you to allow him to come closer. When you nod slightly, Bucky steps closer and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible against him. Your head rests against his broad chest, and your tears are soaking his t-shirt while he holds you tightly.

"B—Bucky I'm sorry. I didn't want to make the wrong food. I cleaned the house today; please don't be mad for not cleaning enough," you say quietly.

"Shhh. Doll, you didn't do anything wrong; why do you think that?"

"B—Because you look so distant. Don't you love me anymore? Am I too ugly or too fat? I—I can do a diet."

Bucky's eyes widen, and he slides his hands down to your thighs and picks you up. He shoves the pots away from the cooker. He then turns around and carries you to the bedroom of the two of you. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you try to wipe the tears away when he places you on the bed. Bucky stands in front of you and smirks softly, then he gets on his knees in front of you. His hands slide up and down your thighs until he reaches the hem of your shirt.

"I love you. I love you so much. And the missions with Sam were really exhausting, especially because John is always trying to tell us what we have to do. But I love you so much, and you are beautiful exactly the way you are. You're not fat or ugly; you're perfect the way you are," Bucky tells you. He then pushes you down and towers over you with a wide smile on his lips.

Bucky captures your lips with his soft and plumb ones, his hands sliding along your sides, and you sigh softly into the kiss. Bucky deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping through your barely parted lips, and he groans when you place your hands in his soft hair and tug at them softly.

You've never had sex with Bucky; he didn't pressure you since you were uncomfortable with it because of your ex-boyfriend. But right now, it feels perfect — the way Bucky has his lips on yours and his hands all over your body. You feel a heat in your lower stomach, which makes its way between your legs, and you can't help but moan about the feeling. When Bucky pulls slightly away, your eyes widen but are filled with lust, the pleasure written on in your expression, and Bucky smiles about it. He kisses down your jawline and to your neck, biting softly and licking over your soft skin.

"Bucky, please," you whimper.

He smirks, kissing your lips once again, before he plays with the hem of your shirt and pushes it up. You sit up, letting him remove the fabric from your body, and he groans about the way you look underneath him with lust in your eyes. Bucky kisses your collarbone, down to your breasts, and unclasps your bra so you can take it off as well. His big hands capture your breasts, palming them softly, and he earns soft moans from you. Bucky licks a strap down to one of your nipples; he kisses it softly before he takes it into his mouth, his tongue twirling around your nipple. You arch your back, pressing yourself more against your boyfriend, who chuckles.

"You're beautiful, doll," he mumbles, nibbling at the soft skin of your breast.

You blush and hide your face with your hands, giggling softly. Bucky looks at you, grasping your hands and pulling them away from your face. He leans closer to kiss your lips softly.

"Don't hide that pretty face of yours. You’re so beautiful; I wanna see you, please," Bucky says, pouting, and you smirk.

You lean closer and peck at his lips, just as softly as he did. Bucky moves his lips down your collarbone and to your other breast, kissing around your nipple before he takes it in his mouth as well. Suckling softly and scratching his teeth over the sensitive skin. You moan, tugging at his hair and pulling him even closer. Bucky slides his hands from your breasts down your stomach, kissing the way down and giving every inch of your soft skin attention.

“Do you want it? If not, we can wait until you’re ready to have sex with me,” Bucky says, his fingers playing with the waistband of your pants.

“I want it, please, Bucky. I need you,” you mumble, blushing once again.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he chuckles.

Bucky opens your pants, trailing his fingers along your skin while he pushes your pants down. He then kisses the way back to your belly and smirks when you wiggle in anticipation. He pushes himself up, removing his shirt as well as his pants, before he leans over you again. You can see his growing bulge in his boxers, and the outline of his cock is visible. A little wet spot forms where his tip is, and you reach out your hand to touch his cock.

“Wanna touch it, babydoll?” He asks, and you nod, your eyes focused on his covered cock.

Bucky grins, getting up the bed once again, and pushes his boxers down. His cock springs free and slaps against his stomach; the red tip is leaking with pre-cum, and you see the vein running along the underside of his shaft. Bucky gets on the bed next to you. You sit up, looking directly into his eyes, while he smiles at you. You slide your fingers over his abs and to the base of his cock. Bucky looks at your fingers, his hand wrapping around yours, and he brings both of your hands to his shaft.

“It’s oke, doll. I won’t do anything unless you want me to,” he says, leaning closer to kiss you before he wraps your hand around his shaft.

You smile when you feel the softness of his length. He is huge, but with Bucky, you feel safe, and you know he wouldn’t do anything when you say you don’t want him to do so. His hand lets go of yours.

For a moment, you just look at his cock in your hand and the way his pre-cum is leaking down his tip. It’s glistening softly, and you swipe your thumb over his slit, smearing the cum all over his tip. Bucky groans softly, smiling when you slowly move your hand up and down his shaft.

“Do you like that?”

“It feels wonderful, babydoll.”

You giggle, swiping your thumb a few more times about his tip until Bucky can’t hold back and thrusts forward into your hand. His eyes widen, and he looks at you, but there is no discomfort, so he relaxes and lets you continue to massage his dick.

“C��Can I touch your balls?” You ask, cheeks heating up.

Bucky nods, and you look at his balls before you use your other hand to bring it to his balls, taking them into your hand. They are soft, and you roll them in your palm, causing Bucky to groan.

“Babydoll, you’re doing so well for me. But when you continue, I won’t last long,” Bucky says.

You grin, moving your hand faster and wrapping it tighter around his shaft. Your other hand is massaging his balls, and when you swipe your thumb once again over his tip, Bucky grasps the sheets and thrusts his hips forward.

“Doll,” he says, looking deeply into your eyes.

The blue lights up when he smirks; they are slightly darkened because of the lust, but they show you nothing but love. When you stroke his cock a few more times, Bucky throws his head back and comes into your hand. He breathes heavily, and sweat is covering his forehead. His seeds are covering his tip and your hand, and for a moment he is worried that you could feel uncomfortable with it. But you just stroke him until he comes down from his high, and then you look at your hand, his cum slowly dropping from it, and you move it to your mouth, so you lick a bit of it away, moaning softly at its salty taste.

“It tastes good,” you smirk, tapping his cock again, and Bucky moans.

When Bucky catches his breath, he pushes you back down so you lay next to him. He spreads your thighs and slides his fingers up and down your thighs further until he reaches your panties. Your face is turned toward him, and he’s focused on your expression, making sure you’re oke. When you nod softly, Bucky guides his hand over your panties and caresses your fold through the fabric. You moan softly; he knows how to touch a woman to make her feel good; he immediately hits your clit and you buck your hips. He then slides his fingers further down, feeling your panties damp, and he smirks.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, and you nod, but place your hands on his cheek and press your lips on his.

Bucky moves his lips perfectly against yours; he’s deepening the kiss before he kisses your neck and collarbone before his focus is back on your panties. His fingers circle your clit through the fabric, and you moan quietly, arching your back. Bucky takes the waistband of your panties between his fingers and pulls them down, revealing your pussy. He rolls himself on top of you before he pushes you further down in the bed by your hips. He is then lying between your thighs and smirking at you.

“You’re so wet and so beautiful,” he says, placing a kiss on your pussy.

Bucky’s eyes are focused on your pussy, his fingers trialing through your folds, and he parts them slightly. Using his tongue to lick along them to your clit. Circling around your sensitive spot before he sucks at it softly, making you gasp. You have never felt so much pleasure during sex, and Bucky hasn’t really touched you yet. His fingers trail back down to your soaked entrance. He pushes his digit against it, smirking at the way you push yourself more against his finger.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate for more, doll,” he says, placing his lips once again on your clit.

One of your hands finds its way to his hair, tugging at it and pulling Bucky closer to your cunt. He chuckles against your pussy, causing vibration, and you whine. He slowly pushes one of his fingers into you while his other hand holds you down by your hips. You only then know that he used his metal hand to push inside of you. The sudden cold of his finger feels great compared to the heat in your pussy. Bucky thrusts his finger in and out of you, smirking about the way your pussy is clenching around his digit and sucking him inside. His mouth doesn’t let go of your clit while he does so, enjoying the sounds that are leaving your lips. They are like music, and he could listen to your soft moans all day.

“Bucky— please. It feels so good.”

“You’re tasting so sweet, doll. Can’t get enough of your pussy.”

You smirk, throwing your head back when he adds another finger and pushes them as much as he can into your tight hole. You’re soaking his fingers, and when he curls them, he finds your sweet spot. The moan that leaves your lips is erotic, and you look at him with shock in your eyes about that sound.

“Don’t worry, doll. Just found your sweet spot,” Bucky chuckles, licking down your folds to your entrance.

His tongue joins your fingers, and his lapping at your entrance swallows all your juice. His fingers curl inside of you, hitting always your sweet spot, and you feel the knot in your stomach growing. You haven’t felt a pleasure like that in years, but Bucky is so soft with you; he never says anything bad about you or your body. Bucky loves you; he loves your body; and he shows you that, every day, he makes sure you know how much you’re loved by him and that you’re the most beautiful woman for him.

“I feel soy squeezing my fingers; if you wanna come, then do it. Come all over my fingers, doll,” he says, placing his mouth back at your entrance.

His words, the way his tongue is working over your folds, and the way his fingers are always hitting your sweet spot make you come. Your cum is floating out of you, but Bucky doesn’t dare to miss a bit of it and takes it all. Eating you out like it’s the most delicious meal he's ever had. And he fucks you with his fingers and his tongue through your orgasm; your breath hitches whenever his tongue slides over your folds. Your pussy feels so sensitive, but Bucky is so soft. He earns more soft moans until he pulls his fingers out of you and kisses your clit once more before he places his chin on your lower stomach and smirks at you.

“How are you feeling, pretty girl?”

“Great, thank you. And you?”

Bucky chuckles, you’re always so nice. Even when it’s all about you, you always make sure that he is fine too. That both of you feel comfortable.

“I’m good too. Do you want to have my dick now?” He asks, grinning.

You nod, running your fingers through his soft hair. Bucky kisses your stomach, pushing his elf up until he kneels between your legs. His big hands are caressing your thighs. Bucky’s cock is hard again, and the tip is touching your pussy when he moves closer to you.

“Could you give me a condom? It’s in the drawer from the bedside table.”

You turn yourself a bit around, reaching for the drawer, and open it. You grab a condom and give it to Bucky, then you close the drawer and lay down more comfortably again. Bucky opens the package of the condom, taking it out and throwing the package away. Your boyfriend grasps the base of his cock and pulls the condom over his dick.

You’re spreading your legs further apart when Bucky settles himself between them, his cock still in his hand, and he taps the tip a few times against your clit. He smirks at you, sliding his dick through your folds, and covers his cock with your arousal. You moan softly when he reaches your entrance, pushing his tip softly against it. You whimper softly when Bucky slides his cock once more through your folds. He loves the way you look through your lashes at him; your lips are slightly parted, so desperate for his cock.

"Bucky, please," you say quietly, pushing your hips toward him.

Bucky lines himself up with your entrance and pushes slowly inside of you; his cock is huge, and he stretches you like no one has before. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he pushes further into you. Your back arches, but he doesn't hurt you; the pleasure is breathtaking, and you grasp the sheets. Bucky chuckles, pushing balls deep into you; he then leans closer and captures your lips with his. His cock is filling you perfectly, and you clench around him, causing him to groan into your mouth.

"You're so tight, warming my cock so perfectly," he groans.

"You're so deep," you moan when he pulls slightly out to push back into you.

You both chuckle, and Bucky takes one of your hands, brings it to your stomach, and places it on your lower abdomen. He then thrusts his cock into you, letting you feel him through your skin and causing you to moan even louder. Feeling his cock that way turns you on beyond belief. He moves his cock in a slow but steady rhythmus inside of you. Your walls are squeezing him, sucking him deeper into the warmth of your pussy.

Bucky's balls hit your ass whenever he pushes his dick balls deep into you. His dick is glistening with your arousal, and Bucky looks the whole time into your eyes.

You're beautiful when you lay underneath him like that. Your other hand makes its way to his back, and you try to ground yourself while Bucky holds your other hand, still pressed on your stomach. With every thrust you feel him against your hand, he cock is hitting all the right spots, and he smirks when he hits your sweet spot harder than before.

"That's what you like?" He asks.

"Scared that I will break when you're thrusting harder into me?"

He shakes his head, laughing while he speeds up his thrusts. Your mouth drops open when he causes a pleasure inside of you that you have never felt before. It grows in your stomach and makes its way down to your pussy. Your eyes widen while you breathe heavily, but you still push your hips more against Bucky to show him to fuck you harder. And he does; he pulls almost completely out of you to thrust back inside of you. His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes when you squeeze him harder.

"I won't last long when you squeeze me like that, doll," he says, pressing his lips to yours.

You smirk, clenching your walls on purpose to make him groan against your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and his thrusts become harder and faster while you're not far away from the edge anymore. The pleasure in your stomach is growing, and Bucky growls. When he hits your sweet spot a few more times, he feels your orgasm just as close as his own, speeding his thrusts up. Bucky doesn't want to come before you do — or at least when you do.

"B—Bucky, I'm so close."

"I know, me too. Come with me, doll," he mumbles softly.

He pushes his cock into you; you feel every inch of him inside of you; his lips are slightly parted like yours; and his breath hits your soft skin. The feeling of him feeling you completely inside of you causes you to come all over his cock. You moan his name and its music to his ears, hearing you moan his name while he is buried balls deep into your pussy. You're squirting all over his cock, and Bucky grins while he comes as well. He comes in the condom, still thrusting into you while you both calm down from your high. Bucky lets go of your hand, sliding it over your stomach and your sides, caressing your skin. He places kisses all over your neck while you catch your breath and run your fingers through his soft hair.

"Are you oke?" He asks, his blue eyes slightly worried that he could have been too rough.

"I'm— it was perfect."

His expression softens, and he pulls slowly out of you. You hiss about the sudden emptiness and grasp his muscular arms to pull him back. Bucky chuckles, placing his fingers at your pussy and strokes your folds softly. You're clenching around nothing, while Bucky admires the way your cum is dripping out of you.

He then sits up and helps you sit up as well. Bucky removes the condom and gets up from the bed, making his way to the bathroom to throw the condom away. You're looking at him, smirking. He is adorable, sweet, and caring. He never tells you that you're ugly because of your scars; he just kisses them when you struggle because of them and tells you how beautiful you are. And you're doing the same; whenever he has nightmares or suffers from his past or scars, you know exactly how to cheer him up. A lot of kisses and cuddles always help that soft, big man, and with the way his eyes are shining, his lips curl up to the softest and most adorable smile.

You rest your back against the headboard of the bed, waiting for Bucky. He throws the condom away and runs warm water into the bath; he buts your favourite bubble bath into it as well, before he makes his way back to you. He smirks, picking you up with no effort and getting back into the bathroom. Before you can say something, you're sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by a lot of bubbles and your favourite scent. You squirm softly when you feel the warm water on your sensitive pussy. Bucky gets into the bathtub behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and pulls you as close as possible.

"I love you," he mumbles, taking some of the foam and putting it on your hair.

You giggle when it rolls down your hair and tickles your skin softly. Bucky rubs his hands softly over your stomach, drawing small circles on it while you lean back, resting your head against his broad chest. Bucky plays with the foam, placing them everywhere on your body, and chuckles then.

"You did so well for me, babydoll. Your pussy's feeling so good around my cock," Bucky says, kissing your neck softly. "Made for my cock."

You chuckle, sliding your hands over his legs. But he is right; it was perfect, and he was so soft that you weren't scared when he pushed in; you felt safe, and you knew he wouldn't do it when you didn't want it.

"My pretty doll, I'm so in love with you. How about I prepare some popcorn and pizza after the bath while you decide which movie we're going to watch?"

"Sounds like a good idea," you say, turning around to kiss him.

Bucky washes your hair, trying to avoid letting shampoo come into your eyes, and he manages to do so. When you turn your whole body around, you're washing his hair. When you put the shampoo in his soft brown hair, you give him some fresh hair styles. Laughing about the way he is pouting when you giggle about his hair. You kiss his pout away, causing him to pout again to get more kisses.

When the both of you are finished, you get out of the bathtub, and Bucky holds a towel to wrap around you, kissing your forehead softly when he walks to the bedroom and dresses himself, giving you panties and a t-shirt of his. You smirk, dress yourself, and comb your hair. Bucky makes his way to the kitchen, preparing the popcorn and the pizza. When you're finished in the bathroom, you walk into the living room, placing all the pillows and blankets on the couch and letting yourself fall into them. When Bucky came with the food and drinks into the living room, he burst out laughing. Only your arms and legs are visible from underneath the pillows. He places the food and drinks on the small table and lifts the pillow on top of you, smirking.

"Does the pillow eat you?" He asks, and you chuckle.

"No, I just like to cuddle."

You sit up, moving a bit to make some space for Bucky. He lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arm around you, then he takes the popcorn and hands it to you before he places the pizza in his lap. With a smirk, you look at the pizza and then into his blue eyes.

"Needy boy," you mumble into his ear.

You slide your hand over his chest to his stomach until you almost reach his cock, but then you take a slice of pizza and bite into it with a grin. You turn on a movie, Bucky, and you like that your head rests on his shoulder while he has his hand around your waist and pulls you as close as possible.

"Just as needy as I'm," he says, making both of you chuckle.

Bucky takes some popcorn from the bowl, which is standing between your legs, so he has to grasp between your legs like you do when you take a slice of pizza from him.

"Bucky?"

"Mhm?" He asks, half asleep, and pulls you even closer against him.

You smile softly and run your fingers through his soft hair. You move some strands out of his face and lean closer to kiss him. Bucky growls and makes you lie on top of him, his arms holding you tightly pressed against him. His fingers draw small circles on your soft skin, and he hides his face in the crock of your neck.

"Y-You know about my things, which are still at Alex's house, right?" You ask carefully; you don't want to upset Bucky.

He hums in response and looks at you, his blue eyes as soft as always. He leans closer and captures your lips for a passionate kiss, showing you that you don't have to worry about telling him about your ex-boyfriend. Bucky knows you love him just as much as he loves you. And he understands that you want to get your personal stuff from your ex-boyfriend.

"A—And I wanted to ask if— could you maybe come with me to him?"

Bucky immediately nods, rolling both of you over so you're underneath him, and he smirks at you. His soft lips grace over yours and along your jawline to your neck, where he bits softly into your skin. His hands move smoothly over your sides, caressing your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. You sigh softly and enjoy the warmth and softness of Bucky's touches. He is always so soft and careful with you, like you could break into his hands when he doesn't pay attention. But you don't complain; Bucky is everything for you — the love of your life and your best friend.

After a lot of kisses, cuddles, and a good breakfast, you're ready to go to your ex-boyfriend and get your personal stuff. Your hands are sweating, and you dry them on your pants. Your body is slightly shaking. Bucky recognises that; he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Your head rests on his chest, and you listen to his heartbeat.

"He won't hurt you again, babydoll. I'm taking care of you; I'll protect you, and he won't do anything when you don't want it." Bucky mumbles and pushes you softly away.

He presses his lips against your forehead, which helps calm down your nerves. Bucky opens the door for you, holding your hands tight in his while you two walk along the street to the apartment you used to live in a few months ago. When you see the entrance of it already, you panic, stay still, and inhale deeply. Bucky turns toward you and places his hand on your cheek, sliding his thumb over it.

"Doll, you're stronger than you ever were. This man never broke you, and he never will. He can't harm you; I love you, and I won't let him touch you again," Bucky says softly.

He knows how hard it can be to accept a trauma you're carrying in your soul. Wounds that turn into scars, but it needs more time as a cut on the skin. Bucky knows how much you suffered because of your ex-boyfriend, but he also sees the strong woman behind all that pain. He loves you for the person you are, not for the person he wants you to be. When you nod, he leads you further to Alex's apartment. He knocks with a strength you're not used to at the door, and then the door is opened by a man you feel like you don't know.

Alex has messy hair; his beard isn't shaved like he used to, and he has dark shadows underneath his red eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept for a while, but when he sees you, he smiles. A smile you had only seen on his lips when you first met. The one you fell in love with. But when Alex sees Bucky standing next to you and holding your hand in his, his smile drops.

"Hi, I—I would like to get my stuff, please," you mumble.

Surprisingly, Alex nods and takes a step to the side, letting you and Bucky walk into the apartment. When you look around, everything looks similar to the day he threw you out of the apartment. The only difference is that there are clothes and trash on the ground. Bucky lets go of your hand, staying next to you to make sure Alex isn't doing anything. You're walking through the apartment and picking up your things, putting them in a bag you brought.

"Can we talk, please?" He asks when you walk back to the floor, where he is still standing.

You nod carefully, and Bucky kisses your cheek before he walks a step to the side to let the two of you talk. Alex runs his fingers through his hair and his hands over his face, and then he inhales deeply.

"I'm sorry, I—I Baby—“

"Alex, please. We're not together anymore."

"I never wanted to hurt you. I love you. I haven't had a girl since you moved out. Please, I love you. Give me one more chance to show you that I love you. I will be a better boyfriend this time," he says, and you see the tears falling down your cheeks.

You shake your head. And his eyes widen. Realism hits him when he sees that you don't feel the same for him anymore. He sees in your eyes that you moved on, not only in your eyes; you look in general different from the time you were together with him.

"I'm sorry, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say with such strength in your voice. You never thought you would talk to him like that without fear.

"Please, you— I love you."

"You were strong, and I was not. And you used it — you used it against me. When all is done, there is nothing to say. You have gone, and so effortlessly, you have won. You can go ahead and tell them. You can tell your friends now what you want; you can tell the girls you fuck now how shitty I am and how bad I'm in bed. I never did what you wanted or the way you wanted. Tell them all; I know now that you fucked them all without feeling ashamed to cheat on the girl you have at home, the one who loved you and expected to be treated like you did. To be abused by her boyfriend while still loving him. Shout it from the rooftops; write it on the skyline; all we had is gone now. Tell them I was happy even though my heart was broken. All my scars were open, but I found someone who doesn't mind them and helps to heal them, someone who loves all the scars you caused."

Bucky smirks when he hears your words, and his eyes light up when he hears you tell your ex-boyfriend what was inside of you for so long. And you were finally able to tell him how you felt and how you now feel.

"I know I made mistakes. But I love you."

"Everyone does, but you betrayed me. And falling out of love is hard, but falling for betrayal is worse. And you betrayed me so often. Broken trust and broken hearts — you broke both our hearts; you broke mine when we were together, and yours broke because I moved on. And thinking all you need is there, building faith on love and words, only empty promises will wear. Alex, I loved you, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say and nod before you walk to Bucky.

He smiles widely at you, his eyes shining in the most beautiful way you have ever seen. You place your hand in his, and he takes the bag before you two make your way to the door and get out of the apartment. When you close the door behind you, you breathe shakily, and you feel like all the pain and fear are fading away. You walk a few steps, but Bucky just can't hold back anymore and stays still, turning around and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I'm so proud of you, doll. I love you so much. I would tell the whole world; I just do it. I will tell the world how much I love you," Bucky says with a grin, and twirling the two of you around, he then leans closer. "I love you so much, and I'm proud of you. I don't even have words for that; you're the most beautiful woman, and you belong to me; you're mine just as much as I'm yours," he whispers into your ear.

"Thank you. I love you too, Bucky," you giggle, then you smirk playfully. "So, where do you want to go to tell the world that you love me?"

"I already did. When I whispered in your ear that I love you. Because you're my world, my perfect world," Bucky says, kissing you softly.

You feel some tears of joy rolling down your face when you realise his words. No one ever said more meaningful words than Bucky does. He is definitely everything for you, and you are grateful to have such a wonderful and loving man as your boyfriend. One who sees you as the only and most wonderful woman, someone who doesn't even look at other women, and one who tries to make you laugh as often as he can. Bucky is the love of your life, and you're grateful that destiny brought the two of you together and that the two of you discover every day another thing you love about one another.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @vicmc624 @kpopgirlbtssvt @ordelixx @angelbabyyy99 @mostlymarvelgirl @somegirlfromasgard @buck-buck-buckaroo @lov3lys1ns @etherealdisneyvillainness @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel

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love-belle · 1 year ago

Text

you are my sunshine !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she's their sunshine and it's sunshine's birthday.

for when you find the people you can call home. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!! i really hope u like this one!!! also, i have more than 20+ requests in my inbox at the moment so if you've requested something, it may take some time for me to post them, so sorry about that ://// thank u so much for reading, i love you <3

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landonorris happiest birthday to my person, my love, my y/n. you're easily the most sunshine-y person i have ever met and i love you so much, even if you love lily more than me. i remember telling you about my favourite flower and the very next day, you showed up with a bouquet full of white roses and a cheesy card and that was when i knew that i wanted to spend all of my lifetimes with you. here's to growing old but never growing up. have the happiest day ahead, darling ❤️

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lilymhe to my soul sister, my best friend, my partner in crime, my 3am call since forever, happy happy happy birthday, my love. there's good in this world and i found a LOT of it in you, thank you so much for being my sunshine on days where everything got too hard. i love you so much, to the moon and to saturn. ( landonorris, suck on the caption)

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alex_albon happy birthday to the only person i'd want to sit beside me in prison. thank you so much for years of memories, laughing till we cried, going on stupid adventures together that got us yelled at by lily and here's to a lot more. i love you, i guess, even though you made my girlfriend love you more. have a good one, you stupid. time to start buying anti-wrinkle cream.

tagged yourusername

6,728 comments

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago

Note

shy!lucien x bold!reader, corruption. Reader is a shameless flirt and courtier in the nightcourt. She is rhysands sister, a part of the inner circle and is tasked with keeping lucien company when he and feyre first arrive in velaris. At first she plays with him and enjoys watching him squirm when she says the nastiest most flirty things infront of everyone. But then they truly fall inlove with eachother and reader finds out he’s a virgin. She takes his virginity and claims him as hers, promising that she’ll ruin anyone else for him🧎‍♀️👀👀 the mating bond snaps in place for them😋😋

Presents

Summary: Y/n loves making the new emissary to the night court flustered. The way he blushes, the way he sputters, hell, even the way he breathes is fascinating.

But she isn't ready for her heart to decide that flirting is not enough for her.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: hey! I loved the prompt! It was so fun to write 😌 I also, I felt like you wanted me to write smut, but I don't write smut, so I'm sorry 😔

Anyways enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

He made a beeline towards Rhys's office in the river house. He had been relieved to find the house almost empty when he entered, knowing if the inner circle were present, the house wouldn't be so peaceful.

He was also hoping that she wasn't present in the house.

Rhysand's sister.

Y/n.

Over the months since he and Feyre had escaped the Spring Court, it was as if she had made him her target.

•○●⛦●○•

The first time, he had been lounging in his room a day after he and Feyre arrived in Velaris, thinking of the events in the past few days. He was feeling guilty for leaving his friend alone, wondering if he should have stayed back and faced Tamlin's wrath. That was all he could think about since the moment he stepped foot out of the spring court.

Lucien was about to scream at the top of his lungs in frustration, and that's when she decided to waltz in.

She wore a simple tunic and some loose pants, her hair shoved haphazardly into a bun. Her eyes sparkled as she took in the room he was staying in. She hadn't even bothered to knock, and once she had surveyed the room, she simply smiled at him and then plopped down on the small couch–which could probably accommodate only one illyrian, wings and all– as he watched from the bed, wondering what the hell was going on.

"Hi, I'm Y/n." She gave a tiny wave, lifting her legs to rest on one of the armrests of the tiny couch, her back resting on the other one as she draped her arm across the back of it.

He'd stared at her, dumbfounded.

"You are staring darling." She didn't even look at him, just continued getting comfortable on the couch.

He snapped his jaw shut, which he hadn't even realised was open. "I–I'm Lucien."

She grinned, finally looking at him. "I know sweets."

He wondered how to reply to that so the silence didn't become uncomfortable, his cheeks already starting to heat with embarrassment because he was caught staring. "Why–why are you here?"

He groaned inwardly. That was not how he was supposed to speak. Dammit, it was practically his job to know how to converse smoothly with people. He'd been a gods damned emissary for almost half his life.

She didn't seem to mind his words though, speaking happily. "I just thought you would be bored. I came to see if you needed company."

He raised his brows. "So have you seen if I need company?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And I deem you in need of it."

This female was certainly weird. "I don't think that's true."

"Are you trying to kick me out?"

Shit.

"No–"

She laughed. "Don't worry darling. I won't take it personally."

He studied her for a moment. "Why are you really here?"

"I just told you."

"So you want me to believe that you aren't here so you could spy on me for them?"

She stared at him for a moment, the edges of her beautiful lips curling ever so slightly. "There is nothing they can make me do if I don't want to. And I would never want to spy on anyone. That's the darned spymaster's job. Not mine."

"But–"

He stopped when he noticed that her eyes were glazed over, and after a moment she heaved an irritated sigh.

"Brother's in need of me. Have to go. But don't you trick yourself into believing that I'll let you live in peace."

She got up, walking up to him instead of going to where the door was, and he watched as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

The heat in his cheeks turned from embarrassment to the redness of fluster. She winked at him before turning away.

"Bye. Have a good day Lucien."

Butterflies erupted in his stomach when his name rolled off her lips, and he almost forgot to reply.

"B–bye." He spluttered.

Her eyes glittered. "You're cute."

Never in his life did he think someone would call him cute, but here he was.

Would she show up again? Or was this just some sick way of hers to pass the time?

He didn't know what to base his judgement off of, considering all he knew about the female was that she was Rhys's sister and she was as charming as he was.

•○●⛦●○•

And now the war was over, and the female still showed no signs of stopping.

He grunted softly at his thoughts, how all he could think about was her, all he could wonder about was what she would say when the met next.

But he was trying to distance himself from her.

Not because he didn't like her. No, he liked her, very much so. Probably a little too much for his own good.

But she was charming, and it seemed like second nature to her to flirt with people. He was pretty sure he probably had seen her flirting with the house at some point.

And it was a given that he might fall for her, he probably already had. And he didn't want to develop any more feelings in case she was just flirting with for fun and never had any interest in him. It would hurt him, which he didn't need more of.

So he stepped carefully towards Rhys's office, making sure he was making no noise, eyeing the staircase to make sure she wasn't about to flounce down it to greet him.

The plan was simple. Go meet Rhys, hand over the reports Lucien had with him, and go back to the mortal lands before the dinner and party for tonight's solstice began and wallow in sadness because he had no one.

No one to celebrate festivals with.

No one who cared enough for him to ask if he was doing well.

He had had only a couple of friends in his life who he was in contact with till this day. Vassa, Jurian, Tamlin and Feyre.

But Tamlin was in no position to care for and look over his own needs and health, let alone Lucien's.

And Feyre had her family to look after. So he had no one who cared for him, except Jurian and Vassa.

It wasn't that he was ungrateful. He was just lonely, and he oftentimes wondered what it would feel like to know someone cared if he lived or died.

He wondered how it would feel like to have a family like the inner circle to laugh and cry with.

He wondered what it would feel like to have a love like Rhys and Feyre's, Cassian and Nesta's.

But that's all he could do. All he ever did.

Wonder.

As soon as he reached the door of the office, he heaved a relieved sigh and then pushed them open.

And then he froze when he lifted his eyes.

There she was, her legs resting on the table as she sat in her brother's chair, flipping through a book in her lap.

She looked so careless, as if the world could go to hell and she would be sitting on the throne of hell itself, eating cookies and reading one of those romance novels she adored.

She didn't seem to notice him, her eyes glued to the book. So he decided it best if he left while she was busy, not wanting to get into a conversation with her that might potentially end up with him handing over his heart to be shattered.

Whatever was left of his broken heart anyway.

He took a silent step backwards, keeping an eye on her. And he found her lips lifting in a slow smile.

"Trying to run away Lucien? Come on, I thought you would have missed me." She pouted, slowly raising her eyes to his figure.

She didn't look into his eyes though. She leisurely raked her eyes over his form.

She hummed, seemingly satisfied.

"Y/n." He tried to mutter her name with as much detachment as possible.

Because he knew if he didn't, she would know exactly how much he missed her. Her voice when she talked to him and only him, how her eyes glittered when she found him blushing to one of her teasing remarks, how she boldly said the nastiest and filthiest things and made him wonder how she would sound like when he was deep–

No. He could not go to those moments now, he could not think of those thoughts now, because if he did, she would see how much he fucking. Missed. Her.

He had come to terms with his feelings a long time ago, knowing if he kept pushing them away, he would inevitably be hit by more feelings than he could handle all at the same time. So he had known in the budding stages of his love for her how much he truly desired her.

Lucien swallowed and decided to take a single step into the room and then another. Her eyes sparkled with happiness.

"How are you doing today Lucien?" She mumbled as he neared the desk.

"I'm good. How about you?"

"I'm perfect."

He knew she was. She was perfect and someone like him didn't deserve her.

He nodded. "Where is Rhysand?"

"Come on, you never ask me about myself these days. What's gotten into you?" She leaned back, her lower lip jutting out.

And all he could think about was how he wanted to bite–

"He is somewhere. Hopefully not dying. He told me a few moments before you arrived to retrieve the reports from you and that he'll be here soon enough."

He groaned inwardly. Everything was going just great. His mind and heart weren't helping much either.

"Are you staying for tonight?"

He was caught off guard by the sudden change in the conversation. "No."

Her brows furrowed and she lowered her legs. "Why not?"

"I don't know... I don't want to intrude–"

"Bullshit. You will not be intruding. We want you here."

He smiled sadly. "Do you though? Never felt that way."

Dammit. He was saying things that were supposed to be buried in his heart.

Y/n blinked. "What do you mean? When have I ever given you the impression–"

"Not you–"

But before anyone could speak another word, footsteps sounded nearby, followed by Rhysand's scent before he walked in.

"Oh hello Lucien. I hope you have the reports I asked for?"

Lucien nodded, relieved. "Yes. I have them."

"Good. Can you please move Y/n?"

She stood from Rhys's chair without ever breaking eye contact with Lucien.

"Hey Rhys, did you know that Lucien was planning on leaving after your meeting?"

Rhysand looked up at her, confused before he turned to Lucien. "Why is that Lucien? You should stay for dinner."

As soon as he said those words, he went back to rummaging in his desk drawer.

Lucien wanted to laugh. He was no kid. He knew Y/n had convinced Rhysand to say that.

He wasn't wanted here, no one except maybe Feyre and Y/n trusted or liked him. He wouldn't stay somewhere he wasn't wanted for more than necessary.

He felt a scratch on his mental walls, and he glanced at Y/n to find her staring intently at him. He opened a small window for her.

Yes?

I want you to stay. Please.

Are you sure? Lucien was still skeptical. Because if he stayed, he'll have to stand in a corner and watch the others have the time of their lives like a stranger gazing in from the window. Not to mention everyone might be uncomfortable and probably start pitying him because no one would have bought a gift for him.

Please Lucien. Stay for me.

"Yes, Lucien. Let's start the meeting. Y/n, could you please–"

"Yes." She stared at lucien for a moment, her eyes swirling with something Lucien didn't dare name, before she left the room and slipped out of his mind.

During the whole meeting, he was distracted. Wondering if he should stay or not.

By the end of the meeting, he knew what he wanted.

So he decided to stay.

Of course he did.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Saying she was excited would be an understatement. But at the moment, no better word came to mind as all that occupied the space in her head was him.

He had looked so good today. But he always looked that way.

Today it all felt different. She had come to terms a long time ago that what she felt for him was no matter of jest, and that she really did have feelings for him.

She didn't know why, but she'd had felt this strange pull towards him today when he first walked through the door of Rhys's office.

She continued to eye him from the corner of her eyes, her resolve hardening.

They were all seated around on the couches in the living room of the river house, talking and laughing and drinking while Lucien and Y/n sat near the window on the little loveseat. Lucien simply drank his wine and stared into the glass most of the time.

Everyone had been shocked when Lucien came in through the door and took a seat next to Y/n, Cassian and Rhys nodding to him once before turning back to their partners to continue their conversation. Feyre had just smiled and said hello to Lucien before digging into her meal.

And then during the whole dinner, everyone had ignored him, consciously or not, to make him think he wasn't welcome or not, she didn't know. Azriel, Amren and Mor even glaring or sneering at him when he wasn't looking. It pissed Y/n off so much she was ready to tear their heads off.

But there was one good thing that came out of them ignoring him. She had him all to herself for the night, and so far, she had succeeded in making him blush throughout the whole evening.

The whole time, she asked him about random things or flirted with him, but she was genuinely curious about his opinion on political and other matters. Talking to him was truly enlightening. He was a smart and intelligent guy.

Now as they sat nearby the windows, she came to a decision.

"Hey Lucien." She waited for him to look at her before continuing to practically whisper directly into his ear. "I have to show you something. Would you like to come with me?"

"Um... okay. Lead the way." He stood along with her and she led him towards the door to the foyer. But before they could leave, Rhys's voice interrupted them.

"Where are you going?"

"I was going to show him something." She answered honestly.

"Go after the presents have been opened. Come sit, we were just about to open them."

Y/n glanced at Lucien, who shrugged and stepped back into the room towards the seat they had occupied for hours. She decided to keep standing.

Everyone began opening their gifts one by one, and she could feel Lucien's discomfort coming off him in waves with each moment that passed.

Finally, everyone had opened their presents, and they turned to look at Y/n expectantly. She was the only one who hadn't opened her presents yet.

Rhysand piled all her presents near her neatly, but then the inner circle noticed that there was still a pile of presents apart from Y/n's nearby, and Cassian, being the busybody he was, stood to inspect.

"Who's are these?" He stepped closer and closer before Y/n interrupted him. He turned to look at her.

"Those are Lucien's."

Everything became silent as they stared at her.

She simply smiled and winnowed all the presents, hers and his, away to her room.

"I'll open my presents later. For now that you all have finished opening your gifts, I'll take my leave. I still do have to show him that thing." She smiled at Lucien, who gaped at her, his eyes wide.

She motioned at him to follow, and he did, after staring at her for a moment.

"Good night everyone. Happy solstice." She threw over her shoulder, already beginning to ascend the stairs before Lucien had even left the room.

He followed behind, quiet.

The two of them had just entered her room, the door closing behind him with a soft click before he caught her wrist in his hand, tugging lightly but firmly.

She glanced back, her skirts swishing around her legs as she stared up at the beautiful male. She was wearing a simple golden and white dress, which was mostly held by a ribbon on her back which was tied off in an elaborate bow.

She raised her brows, and his golden eye glanced behind her while his russet eye stayed on her. She knew what had caught his attention. The piles of gifts she had dropped near her window.

"What– whose..."

She grinned softly and shrugged, letting his hand stay where it was on her wrist and tugging him towards window. "All yours. Open them."

"Are they all from you?"

She shrugged again as the two of them settled on the floor and he pulled a small gift towards him, examining him. "Yes."

"Why? Is it because I don't– because I would get uncomfortable? You do know that was not the reason I didn't want to stay–"

"I do. And trust me when i say that I didn't get them for that reason. I... I've been collecting these gifts for you since after a month of meeting you. Never had the courage to give them to you. What better time to gift them than solstice?"

"Why..." His voice sounded choked off, and his eyes were filled with emotion. She put a gentle hand on his arm, smiling softly.

"Because, despite what you believe Lucien, not everyone hates you. I don't hate you. I like you, very much so." Then, in a quieter voice, she added. "I love you."

He swallowed harshly, looking at a loss for words. "I... you should use that word carefully. You shouldn't be throwing it around like its nothing."

She searched his eyes– or eye. "Why is that so hard to believe Lucien? That someone might love you?"

He looked away, his fingers fidgeting with the box in his hands. "It just is."

She stared at him a moment longer, knowing what she was about to do would be reckless. But she didn't care.

Not as she crashed her lips against his.

Not as she heard and felt his breath hitch, as she felt his lashes closing and tickling her cheeks slightly, as he slowly kissed her back.

She didn't care that this was reckless as his hands travelled to her neck and waist, pulling her into his lap, and she went happily.

Despite being the one who begun this kiss, she immediately felt nervous. What if she had pushed herself onto him and he didn't want to kiss her?

So she pulled away just as quickly, and he looked at her with his brows furrowed.

"Is everything alright?"

"Um... I should have asked–"

"Oh shut it." He mumbled before tugging her closer and kissing her again.

It felt like they kissed for a whole eternity, and she wanted to keep going, but the two of them needed air, ribbons needed to be unwound and the presents needed to be opened.

So she reluctantly pulled away, smiling.

"We need to open the presents." She reminded him, and he blinked as if he had forgotten.

"You want me to open them now?"

"Yes. After that, you can have me as your present too." She winked at him as his face reddened. She was about to climb off his lap, but he held her back.

"Stay there love." He whispered huskily in her ear as he began opening the presents.

She didn't move, more than happy to stay where she was.

He opened the presents with feral urgency, ripping the papers away and looking at what was inside. And despite the beastly way in which he opened them, his face was soft, as if he was shocked by each one that he opened. She put months of thoughts into them, getting the stuff that would mean the most to him.

After he was done, he shoved his hand in one of his pockets and pulled out a sleek and slender box.

He simply handed it to her, jerking his chin at it. She opened it tenderly, gasping when she saw the necklace.

It was a simple one, with a simple thin chain and a teardrop pendant the size of her thumb's nail encased in a silver frame. It looked ordinary, but she knew it was no ordinary jewellery.

It was a magical one.

A few months ago, she had forced Lucien to come shopping with her, and they had gone into a shop of enchanted items. There, she had spied a pair of necklaces, which were said to be connected to each other. All you had to do was blow a little bit of your magic, no matter how insignificant, into the pendant and give it to your partner, and the pendant would turn red whenever you were in danger, alerting your partner.

She had wanted to get it, but she didn't have anyone to wear it with. So she had dragged Lucien away.

Now as she sat staring at the same necklace, she wondered if he had the other one. Sure enough, when she glanced at him, he pulled away the lapels of his tunic to show her the pendant that rested on the carved planes of his chest.

She laughed and tackled him into a hug before demanding that he put the necklace on her. He did, grinning as he clasped the necklace on her neck. He place a suggestive kiss on the back of her neck, reminding her of what she'd promised.

And Y/n always kept her promises.

"Umm... Y/n? Before we do anything, I just wanted to tell you that... I– I never..."

She cocked her head. "You never what Lucien?"

He glanced at her bed, and she realised.

"You've never slept with anyone?" She asked incredulously, the corners of her lips lifting.

"Don't laugh." He mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

"I'm not laughing, I just can't believe no one has ever lured you into their beds yet."

"You say that like it's a good thing."

"It is."

"It is?" He finally met her eyes.

"Because now I get to have you all to myself. I'll ruin everyone else for you." She swore.

And, as said before, she kept her promises.

•○🌑○•

Y/n blinked her eyes open, finding herself cuddled into a warm body, her head resting on someone's chest.

Lucien.

He was already awake, moving his fingers through her hair. She smiled sleepily up at him, earning a chuckle in response. She felt the butterflies in their stomach flutter their wings.

Her body was running on only two hours of sleep, having stayed awake with him, but it was all so worth it.

"I should probably get going." He murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

"Why?"

"Rhysand will have my ass if he finds me in your bed."

"He can go to hell." She said, turning onto her back.

He laughed quietly. He turned onto his side so he was facing her, gently flicking her nose. "That would make you a bad sister."

"I don't care." She mumbled.

He grinned. "That's sad."

"Let's not talk about him now. Tell me, did you have fun last night?" She asked wickedly.

Instantly, a blush stole over his cheeks. She eyed his chest, the golden skin stretching deliciously over his taut muscles.

"You know–" She began, lifting her eyes back to his, but then paused. As soon as their eyes met, a resounding snap echoed through her being.

She stared and stared at this amazing male, who she never thought she would deserve, now connected to her eternally with a golden string. He stared right back, a flurry of emotions swirling through his eye. Shock, happiness, wonder, awe, lust and what not.

She tried to lightly tug on the golden string, trying to gauge his reaction.

He gasped, his hand flying to his chest. His eyes lit up with an inner fire, boring into hers, which were slowly filling with tears.

"Mate. You– you're my mate..." She whispered, not daring to speak louder as if it would shatter this beautiful moment.

His lips slowly lifted, a crease appearing in his cheek. "Mate."

But of course, her brother loved to interrupt her any chance he got, and he chose exactly that moment to slam her bedroom door open.

Lucien was quick, throwing the blanket by their waists over her body.

Rhysand froze, staring at Lucien and then Y/n. Whatever was visible of her anyway.

Y/n smiled sheepishly, trying to find a way to calm Rhysand before he erupted in rage. "Hi Rhysie–"

"What's he doing here?" He asked coldly. Y/n sighed.

"That's none of your business."

"It is when I find my little sister in bed with someone like–"

She narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me? What do you mean?"

He released a breath, rubbing his eyes. "Look Y/n... first of all, Lucien, would you mind leaving us–"

"He's not going anywhere." She grasped Lucien's hand, almost all of his fingers covered in rings, just that simple touch shooting desire up her spine. The recently discovered mating bond made it no easier.

Rhys clenched his jaw. "Look sister–"

"Okay, imagine this Rhysie, I come into your room one day, and tell Feyre to leave the room so I can talk to you. Would you let her leave?" She wanted this conversation done with. The faster Rhys left the room, the quicker she'd be able to get to her mate and the desire itching at her skin.

"That's different. She's my mate–"

"And he's mine."

The silence was deafening, and no one made an atrempt to break it. She glanced at Lucien, who had a smug smile filled with pride on his face as he gazed at her.

Finally, Rhys spoke. "We need to talk."

"Later." She could already smell Lucien's intoxicating arousal.

Her brother looked incredibly uncomfortable. "I–then I guess I'll leave?"

"Please." She glared at him, and he practically sprinted out the door.

When she glanced at Lucien, he murmured, "That was hot."

She giggled, tugging him forward by his hand that she was still clasping. He complied, leaning into her and kissing her slowly and deeply.

They only pulled back when it was almost impossible to keep going without breathing and he grinned devilishly. And cauldron if that didn't have her insides in a mess.

"Ready for round two?"

She was.

•○🌑○•

General taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless

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sweetsugarcakes · 3 months ago

Note

Do you have any relationship headcanons for Yuno and Mimosa (Black Clover)

yepp ofc I do😌

General relationship headcanons

Yuno and Mimosa

Yuno

🍃this man cares so much about you

🍃when he’s in a type of mood of being agitated, you always calm him down

🍃he loves giving forehead kisses to you to show how much he loves you

🍃the wind spirit always gets jealous of you two. She’ll have something snarky to say about which makes Yuno get mad and just glares at yer to stop. She does stop.

🍃after training or going on missions he can’t wait for to cuddle with you once their home

🍃his dates are always romantic, he knows what would make you happy

🍃you help him get strong to achieve his dream of being the wizard king

🍃he’s also overprotective but in a bit of a calm way. All he’ll do is either glare or threaten another person in a mama but calm way

Mimosa

🌼this girl gets flustered on anything you do

🌼she gets all flushed from holding hands, hugging and kisses.

🌼when she’s a bit scared she’ll cling onto your arms or your back

🌼every time you come back from a mission if your hurt, she’ll heal you and gets worried for you.

🌼she loves cuddling, you guys cuddles everyday and night

🌼once your all healed she take care of you when your resting. She’ll lay next to you and kisses your shoulder or cheek.

🌼half of the time Noelle is a bit happy since mimosa doesn’t like asta anymore. She’s also jealous of your relationship she wishes she could confess to asta so they could be like you guys.

🌼she always loves giving and receiving flowers, they mean everything to her

#black clover #black clover x reader #black clover headcanons #black clover yuno #black clover mimosa #yuno x reader #mimosa x reader #yuno #mimosa #yuno headcanons #mimosa headcanons

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blaithnne · 8 months ago

Note

ok i forgot that goldie isnt canonically 5'1 on a good day so i have to restructure this ask

1) thoughts on short goldie

2) is heron short also

3) (contingent on answers 1 and 2) thoughts on scrooge and beakley both falling for tiny evil women

1) & 2)

I think the toxic yuri polycule height chart is something like this—!

They all wear heels so it’s not exact (also I whipped this up in like 5 minutes lol)

Huifen is tall, she’s a black heron after all, and though they’re not the tallest birds ever they’re still pretty long! But she looks short standing next to Beakley, because everyone does (also I undersized her a little bit in my first human drawing by accident, whoops). Goldie is a short queen LMAO, she’s not minuscule, only slightly shorter than the average person, but she looks tiny next to these two (she might be slightly shorter than I drew her here, idk, I struggled to scale her LOL). Scrooge, for the record, is around the same height as Goldie!

In terms of their builds btw, Beakley is, obviously, very muscular! Though she might seem like a tank, she’s actually very soft — big ol squishy teddy bear! Heron on the other hand is a gangly mf, long, skinny, and sharp. Goldie is sort of in between them, an hourglass build like Huifen, but with more muscle on her (not half as much as Beakley, though).

Heron might not be tiny but Beakley treats her like she is, picks her up like a feral cat when she’s being too much 😌 Scrooge and Goldie only have a very slight height difference, but I think he’s very smug about it lol

Also, my funniest headcanon ever is that Beakley has a thing for bad girls, and she HATES IT. She’s so embarrassed about it and fully intends to take it to her grave. This also leads to her hating the aforementioned bad girls even more, bc she’s so frustrated with herself for liking the in the first place. So Beakley can spend 24 hours a day ranting about how much she hates someone, and be blushing the entire time. All this to say, Beakley might not technically have a leg to stand on when it comes to criticising Scrooge’s relationship, but that doesn’t stop her.

I think they’re both massive hypocrites about it, bc they wanna protect eachother despite the other really not needing the help. They’re also endlessly frustrated with eachother’s toxic Yuri partners. Beakley to a much bigger degree because she definitely has a thing for Goldie, which only makes her hate her even more. Scrooge is more annoyed by Beakley and Heron than anything else bc he just does not understand what the hell is going on there, but he’ll also occasionally be all,

In conclusion, Beakley and Scrooge being a disaster sibling duo is my favourite thing ever. Scrooge is practically immortal, nothing can take him down. Beakley is a walking tank, she could walk off a bullet. They looked at eachother and went “that idiot needs me to protect them from their own love life” and they were kind of right??

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jamneuromain · 6 months ago

Text

Wild Child Chapter 6

Series Summary:

As the granddaughter of the sole Duke in your country, you know that you were going to marry some douche prince, because it is the only way to solidify the grasp the future king has on the Upper House. On the flight home, you come up with a brilliant plan to defy your upcoming matrimony.

Bringing a random man to your grandfather's place, and say you have a boyfriend already.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Before I meet your family?" Ari cocks his head to the side, watching you adjusting your cerulean Valentino dress when you wave your hand dismissively.

"Just say we're in love and help me get out of marrying this D-bag."

Ari Levinson x You

#i didn't know he is my fiance-douchebag-prince

#when i did, it was too late

A/N: I'm sorry it took me half a year before squeezing(?) out a new chapter😬😅 thank you all for loving WC!Ari and Reader, and last but not least, a huge thanks to @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory who provided the wonderful idea of Ari and allergies😌❤️ and as always, thank you to @rogerswifesblog/@rogerswifesblog-updates for her support and endurance of my on-and-off inspirations😘❤️

The bodyguard, Ethan, quietly followed you as you walked with Ari, as you were introducing your house and your family to your fake boyfriend.

“This is the ballroom.”

Servants pulled open a huge door as you walked through. You gazed upwards, pointing at various portraits on the walls, “These are my ancestors. Hardly knew any of them…” Your fingernail raked through a tiny bronze plate which had your name on it, “This is a family portrait when I was … five?”

You sounded not so sure about yourself.

Ari raised his head and saw the oil painting, that had a girl in a blue dress in it, along with her parents, who looked like they were deeply in love.

It looked like a happy family.

Though he doubted that was the case.

Your eyes landed on your mother’s face in the portrait.

“My mother is a nice woman.” You whispered. Too low even for yourself to hear, “She is going to like you.”

Ari did not comment.

Your gaze wandered to the name on the bronze plate. As by Ballenian Law, she took your father’s last name. Losing her own. “You would think that married to my father, she is what, something similar to him. But no, she is the nicest mom on earth.” Your voice grew louder, clearing your throat, introducing the only woman, probably the only person that mattered in your life.

There was a small smile on the corner of your lips. Small but firm.

“We had a writing contest in school today.” You walked into the room with hands folded in front of your abdomen, walking like a true lady indeed, before handing your backpack to one of the servants, thanking them sweetly. Like a true lady.

“That sounds interesting.” Your mother tugged your hand so that you would sit by her side while putting the crochet and yarn away from the sofa, “How did it go?”

You chose to sit on the sofa's armrest and swung your legs happily. You did win a prize, after all, you deserved happiness.

“I-”

“Put your feet down, sweetie.” Your mother kindly advised. Softly but curtly. She pursed her lips together, frowning as if swinging your legs would invite horrible viruses into your calves. Or worse, rudeness. Landing a hand on your knee, she suggested, “You are twelve years old, not two. That is not ladylike. And sit on the sofa, not the armrest, while you are at it.”

Mother is always right. You thought. Even though the rules are annoying and the ways she told me to get my father back never worked.

You did as told, sitting beside her without any further leg movements, and said, “The teacher told us to write about our future dreams.”

“That sounds wonderful, sweetie.” Your mother nodded, “What did you write about?”

“I wrote that…” The word journalist turned one hundred and eighty degrees at your tongue. Somehow, even though it was the true answer, you did not feel comfortable letting it out. You swallowed thickly, making up a word on the spot, “Diplomat. I wrote that I wanted to be a diplomat. Helping countries exchange communication and building allies, that sort of thing.”

The corner of your mother’s lips twitched lightly in amusement. “Quite a dream, darling,” she complimented you half-heartedly, “Though why not be a Princess? You can do all that while being a Princess and taking care of your family as well. Like a superwoman. You have always wanted to be a superwoman, haven’t you?”

Yes, and that was five years ago when I read the first comic book ever in my life. You answered, silently, deep down, but your forced smile was betraying you.

“Don’t you want to be a Princess, my dear?” Your mother seemed puzzled, “That is the goal we have always worked for.”

No, I don’t. “Yes, of course.” You answered, sickly sweet like the industrial sugary flavor, “I just thought that maybe the Prince won’t like me. I have never met him before …”

“Oh nonsense.” Your mother huffed in annoyance, “He is going to love my precious little girl. You are going to fall in love and have babies. But of course, he shall marry you first …”

“Miss?”

A servant approached your sides, gesturing to the living room, “His Lordship is ready for you.”

You did not take long to hand the roses to one of the servants, ordering them to put the flowers into a vase in your room, before asking Ari to join you in the living room.

“Just follow my lead.” You whispered, folding your hand over your abdomen, you stepped into the living room.

If your eyes did not mistake you, your father’s arm landed on the back of the chair, then on his other arm, finally settling on the side of his body. He was either posing for the next cover shot of GQ, which you were fairly certain that there were neither cameras nor photographers in this room, or he was nervous.

Nervous? That was absurd for a man like your father. You scoffed. He must be trying to intimidate your fake boyfriend. And not very successful at it, you might add.

Behind you, Ari narrowed his eyes.

Which made your father nearly jump from his seat.

“Well,” Your father stood up from his large armchair, his eyes darting from you to Ari, and back to you again, “I take it this is the … man – date, eh, boyfriend, you are trying to introduce me to.”

“Yes.” You replied shortly, “Guy, this is my father. Father, Guy Thomas.”

Ari strode forward, extending his hand for a firm handshake.

“Pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

“No, the pleasure is all my - aye.” Your father grimaced as if he had a living frog shoved down his throat. His pitch literally went up an octave. He could practically feel the bones being crushed under the iron grip.

“Shall we, um, take a seat?” You gestured towards the large sofa, tugging Ari by his sleeve. An act out of fear that your father would flip any moment.

It was one of your motives to piss your father off, for starters. A not-so-subtle defiance of “fuck-you” towards the ridiculous marriage you were bound to since the day you were born. But it wasn’t worth it to cause a huge fuss for your father to wreck chaos in your home and your family as well, particularly when you had yet to meet your mother since your return: you feared that he would take it out on your mother, which wasn’t surprising, seeing that your father adored violence when he found he would not be winning by his shitty reasoning.

You were dancing dangerously between the lines of your freedom and planned to use up every drop of it carefully.

“That would be lovely.” Ari smiled softly at you, sitting by your side.

Your father clenched and unclenched his fist behind his back. Taking the seat opposite you, and asked the servants to bring some tea.

Asked. Not demanded.

It was either you woke up today in a completely different world, or that your father had banged his head on the coffee table and another soul was taking over his body –

“So,” began your father, smoothing his hand over his prized tux, “I heard that you were doing business?”

“Ah, yes.” Ari covered your hand with his, squeezing your rigid fingers that were probably leaving permanent sweat stains on his suit jacket, “From Thomas, Kit & Co. A family business.”

“Sure. Sure. Sure.” Your father fumbled with his cufflink absent-mindedly. He nearly spilled his tea onto the Corinthian leather under his ass while taking the cup from the servant. Looking like a cherry bomb that was about to go off, he sure did spend the entire sane part of his brain preventing him from yelling at the servant. Your father grumbled with a detectable fury over his face, “Please, have some tea. I hope you, er, enjoy it. Milk? Honey?”

He offered but none answered.

“Hope no one is allergic to this.” Your father grunted under his breath.

You peeked inside the fine china.

Ugh. Fruit tea.

Ari, on the other hand, took a small sip of the burning liquid. He did not even wince.

You placed the tray onto the table, and decided to break the silence, “Father, I thought my mother would present. I’d very much like to introduce my boyf- um, boyfriend to her.”

“Your mother is unwell.” He replied coldly.

Ari cleared his throat, taking another sip of the thing that could barely be called tea.

Who the hell on earth invented boiling fruit and called it tea??

“I, hmm, suppose she would present at the wedding.” Your father added, in a creepily kind tone that a doting parent would use.

A sharp click.

Ari’s tea cup went back on the tray before he put it down.

Your father gulped.

Ari reached into his pockets, turning to look at you, “Speaking of, sweetheart, I prepared a gift for my darling fiancé.”

Your head snapped in his direction. Your eyes bulged just a little because you agreed on fake dating, not fake marrying!

Engagement? What the heck was he talking about? Or was he trying to insinuate the fact that you got engaged to a completely random person? That bastard.

But the velvet box lying in his hands, the box that had a watch inside, the box you handed to him a while ago, telling you that he was, in fact, sticking to the plan, albeit improvising from the script you negotiated.

“Oh my gosh!” You squealed in delight. Your voice sounded painfully forced even to your own ears, “Thank you, babe. What have you got for me?”

A watch, of course. You knew already.

Yet you played your part, opening the box like a surprised girlfriend.

Wonder how that played out. Deep down, you scoffed at your near-lousy performance. Given the chance, you would undoubtedly take an acting class someday.

“I – ahem, appreciate how you value my daughter, Your – uh, your reputation precedes you, Mister …”

Your father clearly struggled with your fake boyfriend’s name, so you helpfully chirped up, “Thomas. Guy Thomas.”

“Right.” Your father shot you a warning glare, “Mister Thomas. But – You see – Eh, excuse me, my thoughts have been incoherent.”

And since when did your father become so polite to just about anyone? You couldn’t help but wonder if your father woke up this morning and had those fancy mushrooms or special brownies.

Ari smiled, patiently waiting for what your father was about to say.

“All I am trying to say is that,” Your father sat up from his spot on the couch, his fat purple lips pushed a greasy smile over his revolting face, “It would be such a shame if our, um, noble lineage died down, no?”

Ah. So that was his plan. You tried hard not to sneer.

Playing the blue blood card so that your fake boyfriend would pledge either allegiance or admit he was no match for such a noble family.

You rolled your eyes when your father was not looking.

Typical.

You put the velvet box away, but not before placing the watch around your wrist. What your father suggested could be easily solved, “I’m sure we could work out on having a son of mine taking my family name. Don’t you agree, baby?”

Ari did not reply, much to your confusion.

He simply raised the cup to his lips again, blowing the steam away from the edge of the cup. He did not drink, but said, “It would.”

The corner of your father’s eyes twitched in ecstatic, “Then I-”

Ari interrupted him before your father could finish his sentence, “To my knowledge, my dear fiancé is your only child?”

“Girlfriend.” You hissed under your breath, pinching his waist which was seemingly made out of metal, because he had not waivered, even though you had pinched him.

“Sorry.” His arm surrounded your shoulders, apologized by saying your name, his eyes had nothing but warmth inside, calming your frantic heartbeat, “Our sweet Y/N here, has no siblings if memory serves me correctly.”

What did having a brother or sister has anything to do with the succession of your family title? You’d rather throw it into the Atlantic than have anything to do with it, especially since your father would possibly be accepting the title soon, considering that he was the only son of your grandfather.

“Yes, but-” Your father stammered.

Your blood ran cold at the thought of something. Something that might tear you and your mother’s life apart.

What if … what if your father had a son?

A bastard had no way of taking the title, which meant that the only way for your so-called lineage to continue, was for your father to divorce your mother, and marry his mistress.

Losing the chance to marry the Prince was one thing.

That you give zero fuck about.

But your mother …

Your mother would be devastated.

You could practically hear her disappointment if this all went down.

“I’ve raised you, fed you. This is not what we hoped for…”

Blood drained from your face.

“Then that is settled.” Said Ari softly.

Settled? The heck had been settled? What was he doing for crying out loud?

“But Your-” Your father choked on his own spit, coughing, “ah, your parents wouldn’t mind, would it?”

“That would depend.”

Why are these two speaking in riddles? Has the topic of this conversation taken a strange turn when you were thinking about you and your mother’s future?

“Depend on what, may I ask?” Your father left his seat, leaning forward so hard that he could have his necktie soaked with the fruit tea from his cup.

Ari had his gaze land on you.

You, on the other hand, had no clue of what was going on, or what were they talking about.

Things were truly getting out of hand, and you did not enjoy it.

“I thought it is only appropriate if my mother joined us too.” Your palms were getting sweaty. It has been a long time since you talked to your mother. The last time was when she worked with your father to coax you back – the phone call that contained both your father's and your mother’s voice.

You did not appreciate that when you ended up in your own room and no way out, but she was your mother, and she brought you up, no matter the means or education purposes.

“She is unwell.” Your father squeezed the words from his teeth, “I’ll arrange a meeting when she turns out better. You, however -”

Ari raised his hand to pause the conversation.

That hand curled into a fist in front of his nose.

He furrowed his brows.

And sneezed. Loudly.

Your father's face turned into a spectacular turquoise shade.

"Sorry." Ari sounded unapologetic, "I think I'm allergic to your bullshit."

Though your father did not find it amusing for one bit, you literally snorted out laughter, burying your face in your hands and shaking uncontrollably, giggling like a maniac.

… which is why you did not witness either the victorious smirk on Ari’s lips, or the scene where your father rose from his seat, his face bloated like a cartoon character, and tripped over the carpet when he exited the room.

“Tell me about her, Ari.” Queen Olivia tapped on her glass with a silver spoon, signaling the servant to pour another cup of red, “I heard from your head security that you have been spending quite some time with her.”

Drinking down some mineral water to make his mind sharp, Ari replied, “She’s cute. Funny.” His memory trotted back to the little conversation about your epic plan to piss off your father, he couldn’t help but grin, “She reminds me of you, Mother, when we used to head to the Royal Garden-”

And spend time with him without the watchful eyes of his grandmother. The old croon – bless her soul – did everything she could trying to pry Ari away from his mother, for fear that Queen Olivia’s “American blood” could pollute the precious prince, even though Queen Olivia was very much part of the royal family, born and raised as a proper princess.

He didn’t have the best family in the world, so to speak.

A small glimpse of upset flickered over Queen Olivia’s expression. Like her son, she also remembered when the queen, Victor’s late mother, wanted Olivia to give birth to more sons, threatening her with the custody of Ari.

“… which is why I have made up my mind for my coronation decree.”

Now that spiked her interest and freed her from her painful memories.

A coronation decree is the first legal command that a king would issue. Upon this sets the stone of domination for the new king. It could be as vague as “We would pay more attention to the education of rural areas” or as specific as “inviting the Prime Minister from the UK for a visit”. Of course, the first one would give more room for interpretation, hence encouraged.

Ari wiped his mouth with a napkin, before saying thoughtfully, “For my first decree, I would grant the same succession rights for daughters and sons.”

Taglist (also tagging those who might be interested: @irishhappiness @patzammit @identity2212 @lokislady82 @petalj

@thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @magnificentsaladllama @xx-rennyxx @cringeycookies

@autumnrose40 @hawkeyes-queen @vonalyn @theliheat @boo8008

@mrsevans90 @bradfordmyworld @delldenaro @molisighs @otpcutie

Find the Wild Child Masterlist here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fluff #prince!ari levinson #royalty au #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson #wild child

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darkestspring · 4 months ago

Note

Papa Aegon, when Senya is the only child, is asked who would wed his daughter.

“Aemond? Let the gods sink me to the lowest pits of the seven hells.” His brother is too impulsive and hungry for power, so hell no. Besides, it would be like a Daemon and Rhaenyra situation all over again.

“I’d rather not wed my little girl to rhaenyra’s sons.” Aegon The Younger, or Viserys II, is a huge no. It’s like granting his older half-sister full control to the only person he loves.

“Daeron? Hmm… I mean…” he’s actually debating since out of all three brothers. Daeron actually the most decent one out of the bunch and he can keep Senya in the family close to him…

Then cues Helaena cutting in. “Aegon, Senya is only three namesday, it’s too soon to consider this.” She’s taking their baby to sleep with her for the night at the nursery - much to his dismay. Yes, she has guards outside to keep him out. 😌

helaena refuses to let him see senya for the next three days just for thinking about aemond or daeron for senya potential partners. persoanlly she wouldn't mind aegon the younger or viserys ii for senya's husband but she'd prefer it if senya married for love.

senya doesn't see her father for the next three days which is worrying for her. "where's papa?" senya looks up at her mama with big questioning eyes.

"oh, he's really busy these days." Helaena hums, cradling her baby in her arms. "do you want me to help you write a letter to dragonstone?" Helaena asks just to get her mind off of the absence of her father, helaena was still upset after all.

"Yes! I want to tell aunty about all the flowers i picked! can i send them with the letter, mama?" Senya beams up at her mother.

"You can do whatever you want, my little senya."

#everyone goes 'aEMOND????' at aegons response. they meant amongst children her age not her uncles????? everyones surprised he didn't-#even mention jace or luke #aegon straight up doing crack if he thinks helaena will let him marry senya to aemond or daeron #visenya ii targaryen #papa aegon ii #mama helaena

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pollymorgan · 5 months ago

Text

Oh my God, how embarrassing... I did it and translated my German fanfiction into English... into bad English! Don't be too harsh on me, but rather make suggestions for improvement: So now a little phone sex with Coach Negan. 🙈😌

Warnings: arrogant Negan, frustrated woman, explicit phone sex

Today is one of those days again, where nothing seems to work as it should. Just like so often lately. Why couldn't I transfer those damn photos to the laptop? I've never been very tech-savvy, but the modern world practically forced me to. I'm actually a cookbook author and used to be quite successful with it. Some of my books were bestsellers and I even had my own cooking segment on a nationally broadcasted morning show. But then I was suddenly replaced by a younger, "cooler" colleague and ever since then, I've been struggling to keep afloat with social media, more or less. If only the technology would cooperate..

Even in my personal life, I have been replaced. Four months ago, my husband left us. By us, I mean my three children and me. After 19 years of marriage. But love goes where it goes, right? Nothing can be done against that. At least, those were his words when he got into his Porsche with a blonde woman who could be his daughter and disappeared.

Since then, he has managed to do something with his children exactly twice. But in exchange, he has already disappointed them seven times by canceling the meetings at short notice. Yes, I'm keeping count. At least for now.

My oldest daughter Penny is 15 years old and fully immersed in puberty, and it seems that this situation is hardest on her. She and her father were always a unit, his little princess. But there's no trace of that at the moment. Most of the time, he doesn't even bother to answer his damn phone when she tries to reach him.

I see her suffering. She's lost interest in school, and her circle of friends is dwindling visibly. I would love to help her, but how? At the moment, I just can't seem to reach her. Our communication mostly consists of doors slamming.

But back to my current problem. These damn pictures! The article is supposed to go online today. I cooked an Indian dish and had to drive halfway across town to get these damn spices. Thursdays always bring an international post, and now, of all times, nothing is working again. My laptop doesn't recognize the memory card, and the camera won't connect either. I keep plugging and unplugging the cable, hoping the error will magically resolve. Which of course it doesn't. Suddenly, I glance at the small display in the lower right-hand corner. Damn it! So late. I won't be picking up the kids on time again, the second time this cursed week. Annoyed, I close the screen. Grabbing my purse, I walk quickly to the garage. Where's the damn car key? Nervously, I rummage through my chaotic bag, spilling half of its contents on the floor. Finally finding it, I get into the car and speed out of the driveway.

The first stop is the kindergarten to pick up my youngest. She's a real bundle of nerves, but so sweet that you can forgive her anything. Of course, she throws a tantrum right at pickup. It's a real struggle to get her into the car. Like a madwoman, I drive on to the elementary school to pick up my 9-year-old son. He is the calm one in our family and thankfully waits with his best friend relaxed in front of the school. At least one who's not mad at me. Lucky me. And off we go, heading to my daughter's high school. From a distance, I can see her and immediately know that - once again - something is wrong. She stands all alone and pretty annoyed on the street, looking out for me. When I park the car right in front of her feet, she angrily drops onto the passenger seat.

"Penny, I can explain, you know what a loser I am when it comes to technology..." I try to justify myself.

My eldest rolls her eyes in annoyance. "Mum, this time, for once, it's not your fault..." I see tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and automatically, I feel a lump in my throat.

"Mister Smith... he..."

She doesn't need to continue speaking; just hearing that name fills me with such anger again. Right from the start, there have been issues with her physical education teacher, Negan Smith.

I've only seen him twice so far, at parent-teacher conferences, but Penny's stories are enough for me to know that he's an absolute failure as a teacher. He has his favorites whom he praises to the skies, while the less athletic students suffer under his authoritarian ways. My daughter already feels uncomfortable in her own skin, and that jerk doesn't even realize the impact his remarks have on the young girls.

A few years ago, his wife passed away from cancer. A terrible tragedy, but apparently that did not make him more empathetic; quite the opposite.

I'm currently looking in the rearview mirror to avoid hitting anyone in the chaos outside the school. That's all I need on this crappy day. Then I catch sight of none other than Penny's physical education teacher.

"Isn't that him?" I ask excitedly.

My daughter buries her face even further into the backpack in her lap. "Yes, Mom, it's okay, please just drive..."

The anger that had been building up recently had just found a good release.

With the words "Nothing is good...", I yank open my driver's door and head purposefully towards my daughter's physical education teacher, who is just stowing his bag in his car.

"Who do you think you are?" I stand behind him with arms crossed, eagerly awaiting his reaction.

Confused, he turns around to face me and suddenly a big grin spreads across his face. "Negan Smith, nice to meet you, and who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

What a cocky jerk!

"The mother of a rather offended young girl, because of you..."

Can't he just drop his arrogant smile for once? Quite unimpressed, he closes the door of his car.

"Penny has so much potential and she's wasting it on the damn bench..."

Such an idiot, he clearly knows who I am.

"Maybe you should listen to the young students as well, instead of just spouting off random remarks at them?"

Amused, he shakes his head. "I did... her excuse for skipping today's P.E. class was menstrual cramps..."

"And in your opinion that's not a valid reason or what? How dare you even pass judgment on that? Your students' bodies are going through changes and such discomforts should be taken seriously..." I respond a bit too loudly, causing some students to turn towards us.

Resigned, he raises his hands. "Of course, but not every damn other week. Maybe you should give your daughter some biology lessons again and explain to her that her P.E. teacher isn't completely from another planet."

Oh God, what does this man think he is..

"And you should work on your teaching skills... Otherwise, maybe I should consider contacting the school board!"

„Oh wow, you're actually a bigger drama queen than your dear daughter!".

Did he really just say that? Did he just seriously insult me? My daughter's teacher. I look at him in disbelief, but he just grins.

"And now she's quiet... I really have to go now, but I'm pretty sure we'll meet again soon." With these words, he jumps into his car and drives off.

Completely perplexed, I walk back to my car and am greeted by my daughter with the words "That was soooo embarrassing.."

7 hours later

Finally peace! Why does it always have to be such a struggle to get the kids to bed? Isn't it unfair that you are a thousand times more tired than the dear little ones? What a crappy day! I'm glad to be freshly showered in my bed and finally have some time off. Just me and my phone, no one else. No more whining, arguing, and crying. As much as I sometimes curse technology, I also love being able to connect with people over the internet. It's fun to respond to comments, the direct exchange with like-minded people is the only positive thing about social media. As I scroll through Instagram, I suddenly see comments coming in at a rapid pace. Confused, I open them. From "Do you always look so good when you cook?" to "Can you cook that for me sometime?" to heart emojis, and they all come from the same account. As I read the name, a shock runs through me. Can this be for real? "Coach Negan" is he not only a tactless asshole, but also a real psychopath? Excited, I click on his account, but apart from a profile picture where he is clearly recognizable, there is no further information.

I quickly open the messaging function and type "What is this???" into my phone. It only takes a few seconds and I receive a response.

"I am a fan 😉"

For a while, I stare at the screen, unable to believe what is happening here.

Suddenly, he sends me a picture. I open it and see a photo of me from my highlights, showing me from my post "Valentine's Day." I had cooked a three-course meal and written a pretty cheesy text back then. It's one of my most liked posts.

"Red lipstick suits you. Matches your fiery nature.." he writes.

What does he want to achieve? Did the confrontation before school hurt him so much that he is trying to provoke me? But to be honest, it seems like he's the one giving me a warning. Well, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the best defense is a good offense.

"Oh, do you think so? Most men say I look better without wearing anything...I mean, without lipstick, of course.. 😉".

"Are you already in bed?" he asks next. What a bizarre situation? Why does my daughter's teacher want to know where I am? The same teacher who called me a ‚drama queen‘ just a few hours ago.

I keep trying to type a suitable response on my phone and then delete it again. Finally, I write briefly, "Yes, and you?"

"Yes, and I'm studying your profile. Do you realize how crazy you can drive a man with these pictures? Why am I even asking, of course you do. 😉"

The feeling of small electric shocks runs through my body. The whole thing feels strangely forbidden. Maybe what I'm doing here is damn wrong, but right now, the consequences seem pretty irrelevant to me.

"How mean, you can look at my pictures, but you don't have any online yourself."

"That's true, but how about you hear my voice instead?" Attached to this message was his phone number. Okay, this is all moving pretty quickly, in a pretty strange direction. I'm so excited that I can feel my heart pounding wildly in my chest. But what do I have to lose? I haven't felt like this in the last 20 years. Okay, it's a damn bizarre situation, but I'm an adult and single. So I can finally talk to whoever I want. Even with the biggest jerk I've come across lately.

Feeling totally tense, I dial the number and as it rings, it gets even worse. I take a few deep breaths, and suddenly the deep voice on the other end answers with a "What took you so long to decide?" and I can practically feel his grin.

"Well, I had to think for a moment about what would be so sensible about calling my daughter's narcissistic gym teacher in the middle of the night," I say calmly.

"And what would be sensible about that?" he asks with interest.

"I haven't really found a solid reason yet, but maybe you can tell me?"

He thinks for a moment, and I imagine him lying in his bed. A slight tingling sensation spreads in my stomach, which is intensified by his response.

"Well, I can make sure you feel a little better... forget all the everyday crap that's weighing on your pretty shoulders right now."

I briefly close my eyes to focus more on his voice, which really manages to relax me a bit with just that simple sentence.

"And how do you plan to do that?" I ask softly.

"When was the last time you were really well fucked?" As soon as he says it, my lower abdomen tightens, and I automatically press my legs together.

After I take a moment to collect myself, I honestly respond, "That was much too long ago..."

"Oh, poor girl," Negan provocatively replies, but instead of getting upset about it, it triggers completely different feelings in me. "Tell me about what you imagine when you stroke your lonely pussy at night."

I have to swallow briefly to get rid of the extremely dry feeling in my throat.

"I can tell you what I think about when I do it in a moment..." I say softly but firmly.

And his tone changes too. His breathing becomes heavier. "Then tell me, come on," he commands.

"I imagine it's your fingers running over my body and finally sliding my panties to the side and penetrating deep into me..." My cheeks feel like they're glowing. I've never talked like this with anyone before, and now I just did it with a man who is actually a stranger to me.

"Come on, sweetheart... touch yourself for me and tell me if you're wet," he interrupts.

Without thinking, I click on the speaker icon on my display and place the phone next to me on the pillow, then I slide my right hand under my nightgown into my panties and I'm surprised at how aroused I already am, how swollen my clit is, and how sensitive my whole intimate area has become. I sigh softly.

"Fuck, the sweet little sounds you're making... they make my damn cock twitch in my hand with joy..."

Just the thought that he's so aroused by me on the other end sends waves of pleasure through my body.

"I'm already so wet because of you, Negan..." I admit breathlessly.

"You dirty, pretty lady, if I were with you right now, I would slowly penetrate deep into you... you need that now, don't you?"

"Yes!" I can only whisper.

"Okay, now do everything exactly as I tell you, understood?" he demands.

"Yes, please tell me what to do.." I focus solely on his voice, completely tuning out everything else.

"Take off your panties. Use your index and middle fingers to gently stroke over your mons pubis and then slowly over your outer labia, but not more, just right there.."

Immediately, I follow his instructions. The air feels cool on my bare lower abdomen. I feel strangely exposed, even though I am alone in my bedroom, but it's not uncomfortable, quite the opposite. I begin to caress myself gently.

"How does that feel?" his voice breaks the silence again.

"Good, but I want more.." I plead.

"I already knew that.. Bend your legs and spread them wide.. as far as you can.." He gives me a brief moment to comply with his instructions. "Now push your pelvis even further forward.. Imagine I'm between your legs and you want to present me with your beautiful pussy, you would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes.." I say and nod vigorously, even though no one can see me.

"Such a good girl.. and now run your index finger through your slit, spread your juices.."

I can't and don't want to hold back my moans now. There is silence for a while at the other end, then I speak heavily.

"Are you also pleasuring your cock for me?" I ask as I continue to touch myself.

"Oh, sweetheart, so your thoughts are currently only about that.." he says snappily. "Yes, I am, and if you keep moaning so sweetly into the phone, it won't be long, so it's time for you to start massaging your clit, but don't be too timid, circle it with two fingers and use some pressure, even if you're very sensitive now, you can take it.."

Oh God, that was exactly what I needed right now. My body felt like in ecstasy and I could feel the orgasm slowly building up.

"Don't come yet," he commanded, and on cue, I immediately removed my fingers from my most sensitive spot.

"Now, bring your knees close to your body!“

"Yes," I replied, completely exhausted. "You're doing it perfectly, how much I would love to see you in this position right now, just the damn thought!" I could clearly hear him softly moaning. This sound made my body twitch with excitement.

"Penetrate yourself with two fingers... nice and slow. Focus entirely on the feeling of stretching your pussy wide... Tell me when you're all the way in!"

"Now," I whispered, already quite spent.

"Then add your ring finger, once you've done that, you can come intensely as a reward, I promise."

Slowly, I press the third finger into me, which initially causes a bittersweet pull, but I'm so wet that it's not a problem.

Without me telling him, Negan knows that I fulfilled his request.

"So perfect, sweetheart! And now, pleasure your clit! Bring yourself to climax and don't hold back any sound, I want to hear every sweet noise from you."

With the first gentle touch, my body twitches like crazy.

"Negan, please come with me," I stammer into the phone.

"Yes, I promise, beautiful," he replies breathlessly.

And these words are enough for me to come as intensely as I haven't in the past years. My thighs tremble uncontrollably and my heart almost jumps out of my chest. My lower abdomen contracts in waves and I can barely breathe. It feels like I am weightless for a few seconds.

"Do you feel good?" he asks after a short pause.

"Perfect.." I reply and can't gather my thoughts yet.

"Okay, then I expect you tomorrow at 3:30 p.m. for a parent-teacher meeting at the school, and, by the way, without panties.. Good night!" After these words, I only hear a beep on the line.

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan smut #jdm smut #twd smut #smut #bad english #jeffreydeanmorgan #first try #twd fanfiction #negan fanfic #negan fic #negan smith #negan #twd negan #fanfic #telephonesex

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astermagne-but-genshin · 4 months ago

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More hcs as I procastinate work

That bird that hangs across the back of Dottore? Oh yeah, Dottore can use technology to see through the bird’s ‘eyes’. Like Bluetooth (although admit it it’s probably called BlueEye swhitedragon) , Dottore can pair things either to himself or his mask- no one’s going to be able to surprise attack him from behind (ignore the earlier screenshots of me sneaking up on him, that’s his blindspot shh )

Columbina sleep talks. Which is fine on its own.. if it weren’t for her responding to others and having ‘conversations’, where the other harbingers can’t tell if she’s sleeping or not. Her sleep talk is either misinformation, talk about other worlds, or ..very concerning, traumatizing, stuff.

Columbina cuts Dottore’s and his segment’s hair. Dottore sent a segment to her to get a hair cut as a punishment, it turned out really well , and the next day she found about 40 or so segments wanting a haircut as well

Pantalone will accept sudden hugs from Columbina.

Pantalone won’t accept sudden hugs from Dottore and will punch him in the face . Or he will side step and make him trip. He now has another reason to charge the other 10,000 Mora. 5,000 for an attempted hug.

Pantalone’s study is very comfy. He has those large Italian leather plush one- person couches, the ones where you just sink into. Columbina comes into his office to take naps occasionally. Arlecchino may have ‘rested her eyes’ once or twice for a few minutes. Pantalone doesn’t mind, they’re quite and don’t bother him. There’s no distractions.

Dottore is not allowed to sleep on the couch . 20,000 Mora per nap.

Some segments are not allowed to touch the couch

One or two segments are nice enough and on Pantalone’s good side, they are allowed to rest on the couch. They have Couch Privileges. For up to half hour, that is. (Though if one happens to fall asleep he won’t bother them 🤫😌)

Dottore is perfectly capable of creating machines, medicine, gods, and even life itself. This also means he is perfectly capable of replicating and reproducing Mora. However. None of the Dottores have come to that realization.

Some of the segments occasionally work as mechanics and handymen for the harbingers. The majority are tech savvy , and inadvertently make Pierro feel bad .

Capitano knits. Columbina takes in the occasional bird and Capitano makes hats for them.

Columbina does not like most cats. This is mostly due to either Sandrone or Dottore making a realisitc cat with laser eyes that acted strangely and dangerously suddenly without warning. However if she sees and watches a cat being very sweet and friendly with another harbinger , she might come closer, and maybe, just maybe, try to pet it. She loves how soft they are .

As someone who hums and sings softly when I’m very stressed or very sad / in mourning , I Hc columbina to be the same way

Pantalone is VERY good at throwing knives and darts. So is Pierro . I can see Pierro doing that one scene with Gomez Adams and the dart board.

youtube

Pierro does not find Columbina scary or concerning in the way other might do when she speaks. He just assumes this is how the younger generation speaks this way. Arlecchino feels the same way on occasion . Of course, this makes the other harbingers more scared of Pierro with his nonchalance when Columbina talks cryptically..

#genshin #genshin impact #pantalone #il dottore #genshin headcanons #pierro #Arlecchino #columbina #Youtube

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rosapexa · 9 months ago

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Lexa got some new tattoos 😌🤍

That's the major change i mentioned yesterday here.

I wanted to give my baby her own tattoos. It actually only was an experiment at first, if i could make it work and i was unsure if it would look good. But the more i worked on these, the more i started to like it. I decided i want to have tribal style tattoos for Lexa, because... Tbh i don't know 😂 I just like this style and i thought it would fit her. And since i can't draw, even if my life depended on it, i have now hundreds of free tribal style pictures on my PC. You gotta try and mix and match, right? 🤪

Most tattoos are things, that i personally just found looked beautiful. Also it's canon now, that Lexa likes dragons (and dinosaurs, but i coudn't find fitting dino stuff for her, that i liked, so more dragons it is) 😂

But she also got some with a little more "meaning". The tattoo on her left arm is dedicated to Johnny of course. The Mandala on her right wrist is for Jackie. And the bird and half moon near her left knee is dedicated to Songbird. The scorpio on her right hand is her star sign. She doesn't believe in horoscopes, but scorpios are little weird mini dragons/dinos 😉 Also there's a spider with a huge eye on the back of her right knee, which is a reference to her affiliation to Maelstrom.

For now i got rid of her neck and belly cyberware. I like her with a lot of chrome, but i just want to show her tattoos more.

Maybe i will give Lexa's Maelstrom self also some tattoos in the future. I always wanted her to have some tattoos as well, but she doesn't have one at all, because i never found something that would fit her. Also the space on her body is kinda very limited 😂 But since i now know how to do it myself, maybe i can come up with something for her as well.

But for now i just love how Lexa (V) looks 💖

#Cyberpunk 2077 #Rosa's OCs: Lexa (V)#Virtual Photography #Fem V Friday

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starbeltconstellation · 2 months ago

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HEYYYYY!!!

i hope you’re well ❤️! i just wanted to come on here for a second to express how grateful im currently feeling for your story. i found it on ao3 a couple of days ago (wish i would’ve found it earlier but now i got a nice chunk of chapters to read through and hyper fixate over 😄😄) and i have been obsessed ever since. genuinely, you’ve made my august with this story.

this story feels so special to me. i’m so excited and giddy everytime i open the website back up to continue reading it (mannn i never wanna finish it) and it’s like the best part of my day.

i just wanna say that you’re a mf-ing genius. a. genius.

everytime something happens in the story i genuinely GASP. LIKE OH MY GOSH. im going insane over this fic. (the theories are bubbling inside of my brain about melanie and what’s gonna happen later on, i also love reading about people’s theories too man its so nice to see how invested everybody is cuz girl I AM.)

this story, man, it’s GREAT. it’s not only very well written, which im sure everybody appreciates as the flow is so nice, but it is also exciting, intense and beautiful. every single character had been on point, mischaracterising isn’t in your vocabulary. it’s like you know these lot personally. but anyway, it is a pleasure to read, like i said, VERY exciting and entertaining. i love our girl mel so much, she is so relatable and honestly just so real 😭 her reactions to most things are so valid like, girl same! she’s amazing, i don’t think i’ve ever encountered an OC as interesting and cool and well written as her. her whole storyline is just insane, bless her having all of this pressure and stress on her too lol 😭😭😭 but what can she do ahah, i mean?! the scene with the shopkeeper telling her to go back to her world had me absolutely stunned i was SHAKING. but i do think she made the right choice, she’s so strong.

like despite the fact that she knows all the hell she will have to endure there, she DID chose to stay, which is such a sacrifice. man i just wanna hug her and say thanks (i am not in the star wars universe but …)

everybody else too though, like ahsoka, obi-wan, anakin, the clones, mace, etc.. are also really cool to see the OC interact with, this is such a comfort fic for me, genuinely. it feels like i know them personally through this fr 🥲🥲🥲

i love reading the other’s comments on your story, it’s so nice to see this community form😭 like i’ve found my people LOL

thank you for feeding our star wars and anakin obsessions with your lovely story, i can’t get enough of it i swear im making a playlist for melanie as we speak.

anyhoo, just wanted to let you know how much i love this story and how much i appreciate you putting effort into creating something we can all take comfort in <3 i hope to stay and interact a lot more as i go on about reading the story!

Ahhhhh, oh my goshhh. Thank you so, SOOOO much, my dear little commenter. Haha. 🥺🥹❤️ This message was a big surprise when I first received it (which was a while ago, I know. 😭😅 I’m really sorry for the delay in response. Life gets the best of me at times. I’m trying to catch up on my asks), because at that time, I was still stuck struggling on the final bit of my huge whopper of a chapter that is now FINALLY out. ✊😖 Haha. And I just want you to know that your comment was SO helpful and motivating to me. Like… I’m not even joking. 😭 Your comment and a handful of other loyal readers (like my dear @ensomniaa ! 😌😆❤️) are probably the main reason I was able to trudge through my writer’s block and depression to get out the next chapter. So, just… thank you. 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for taking the time out of your day to write out such a long and in depth comment with such gushing words about my work and about how I’ve been writing the Melakin romance dynamic. It makes me feel like my writing isn’t half bad. Haha.

I always like to take my time responding to comments, because I feel I should always take the time and care to write out a detailed response that isn’t just copy pasted. You all take the time out of your day to comment to me, so it’s only fair I do the same! 🥺💕💕💕 So… my point is… I’m SO sorry this response took so long. 😭 I hope the wait time won’t have discouraged you from messaging again in the future. They truly do bring me such a big smile. And while I might not get to asks or comments immediately—ALL of my reader ducklings WILL eventually see a response. 😭💕❤️ I have made that my life’s goal. Lol.

Now, onto the ask! 😁✨💕 I’ll put the rest under a read more.

I’m soooo happy to hear that you’re so obsessed with my story and that it made your August! 😁✨❤️ Haha, it’s always exciting when I see someone new has stumbled over my fic. And I feel you with that hyper fixation. 😭✊ I’m BEGGING for my brain to give the SW hyper fixation back to me so I can churn out chapters at the speed of sound like when I did first starting this massive project. Lol. 🫠 So far… it’s still not working. But don’t worry! I shall NEVER abandon this story. I swearrrr, this thing will be my magnum opus. 😭✊Loool.

The fact my writing makes you giddy??? 😭 The fact it makes you theorize (which I ADORE when my readers do and ramble in the comments so I can muah-ha-ha to them. 😈😈💕😂) and gasp out loud?? 😭😭 The fact that you ENJOY reading through the different comments and seeing other readers’s theories and reactions?? 😭🥹💕❤️❤️❤️ You are what us writers call a rare GEM, dear reader. 🥺🥹❤️ To not only LEAVE a comment, but also just how you seem to genuinely enjoy commenting/reading other commenters’s thoughts because it feels like a fan community?? (And how SWEET to say I’m a big enough writer to have a little community. 🫠 I’m cryingggg. 😭❤️❤️) The fact you think I’m… a genius?? 🫣🥺😭❤️❤️❤️ (Idk about that, but I’ll put aside my anxiety issues. 😌 It is a lying liar who liessss).

Thank you. Thank you from the very BOTTOM of my heart. Idk what else I can say besides that, because rare reader gems like you keep us starving writers chugging along. 😭✊❤️

I’m SOOO glad you feel like everyone is in character. 😭❤️❤️ I worried about that a LOT. Especially for Anakin and the clones. There’s just a certain way about them that you have to get right, or they become 2-dimensional if you don’t write their little quirks and ticks. And I LOVE getting to explore the clones’s and Mel’s sibling-like relationship. 😭 I based most of their personalities on how they act around Mel off my annoying brother (affectionate 😌💕😂). I’m also so happy you feel the Jedi are also in character as well, and that it feels like a comfort to read them, like you’re learning about them along with Mel. 🥺💕 That was actually a lot of the idea with this fic (besides me living vicariously through Mel to romance Anakin, of course 👀😂❤️) over how I would slowly write scenes to SHOW the audience the misconception about the Jedi/their culture/certain characters. I didn’t want to PREACH to them. I wanted to present them with the evidence that maybe the Jedi aren’t “repressive” and “emotionless 🙄🤢” as they might’ve been led to believe by a big chunk of the fandom’s harsh perception. It would be like it was happening in time with Anakin as his thoughts change into something better and less self centered.

And I HAVE actually received a comment on Wattpad from a reader that my fic helped change their minds about Mace and the Council! 🥰🥰❤️ And it was just… such a joy to hear. 😭❤️ That’s the idea with this fic. I hope to reach across the aisle towards EVERYONE—maybe anti Jedi fans will read my work and have their minds changed about their culture. Maybe someone who despises Anakin to the bone will read my fic on a whim and slowly grow to care about him/see the humanity underneath the surface, just like Mel has. And maybe by the END of this fic… I’ll have convinced some people that the Jedi are not at fault for their own genocide by “failing” Anakin—because the truth is that it was HIS choice. Maybe by the end of this fic, there’ll be fans who’ll read the work and grow to see that you can love a character while still criticizing them/knowing they’re in the wrong (ie; Anakin 😔💔), while ALSO still acknowledging that he went through such horrible trauma as a kid while a slave on Tatooine… but it still DOESN’T absolve him or give him the right to hurt others just because he’s hurting himself.

That’s what this fic is all about, after all. GENUINE growth and change. Not placating a man by changing a few moments that he won’t have to go through in the timeline that will suddenly make him all “warm and fuzzy inside” and see the light. TRUE redemption and change means that Anakin will have to grow and ADMIT he was wrong while not becoming defensive when his actions (*cough* the Tuskens *cough*) are brought to light. Essentially, I’m trying to “Zuko-ify” him. (Loool, I know. Pretty high hopes for myself there. 😭😂❤️)

I’m also soooo happy you love and relate to Melanie so much. 🥹❤️❤️ Almost all readers have told me similar things, and it’s so wonderful to know that I’ve made a character that has been accepted by a small portion of the “SW/Anakin fandom”. 😆😁💕❤️ Mel came about when I was one day reading over an isekai story and just… not being able to fully immerse myself, because the OC’s reactions just didn’t seem realistic to me. 😭 And so I remember sitting down and imagining how I would react in such a situation (immediate freak out/think I was dreaming/would run in terror from Anakin’s hot ass at every opportunity 😌❤️‍🔥😂), and then that’s how Melanie Bains came into being! Haha. ❤️😁

So, while Mel IS somewhat of a stand-in for the audience (it IS an isekai fic after all 😭🤷‍♀️), it was still very important to me to make her three dimensional and—while yes, very relatable—also make sure she became her own character who could grow into herself. So a hero’s journey was important, along with giving Mel an antagonist (The Shopkeeper) separate from Anakin’s antagonist (Palpatine), because it was SOOOO important to have Mel have her own character arc/story AWAY from Anakin. It was important that Anakin wasn’t ALL she was about. Mel has friends (Ahsoka/the clones), she has her own plan she’s dealing with to try and save the galaxy while barely giving Anakin a second thought besides terror at first, and most importantly—Melanie is NOT begging Anakin to change. That was soooo important to me. She doesn’t have TIME to beg him to change. There’s too much at stake already, and if Anakin changed FOR Mel, it’s not even true change in the first place. Instead, as you’ve probably guessed from my latest chapter, Mel is INSPIRING him to change himself, because of the qualities about her he is coming to admire which in turn makes him take a look at his own selfish actions. This is always where I think “bad boy/I can fix him” writers get things lost in translation. It’s not true redemption if they change FOR the girl, because—as the Marvel movie Shang-Chi has recently shown us 🥶—if the girl ever dies… then the “bad boy/villain” goes right back to being evil. 😭🤷‍♀️🤦‍♀️ What REAL redemption would be is meeting someone you grow to love who INSPIRES you to become a better version of yourself—not FOR them—but because you want to become someone like them. You want to stand by their side in the light and feel proud.

Anyway, I feel like I’ve ranted a lot. 😭😂❤️ But I just wanted to thank you soooo much again for your beautiful words that were so kind and truly brought a ray of light to my dreary days! 😭😭❤️❤️❤️ I only hope my long response time doesn’t discourage you from writing me messages in the future. 😅😓😭🫠 I’m so sorry again for the long wait.

But I have ADORED rereading your comment these past few days while I’ve been writing out my response. It’s so thoughtful and long and in depth and I lovveeee itttt. 😭❤️❤️❤️ THIS is what feeds our writer brains. Haha.

A playlist sounds awesome! 💕💕💕💕💕 I already made one for Anakin and Mel and the Melakin romance, as you can see from my last response. But I would still ADORE getting to know songs that you think fit with my fic and Mel and Anakin’s journey! 😭❤️❤️ If you ever do make it, please hit me up and send a linkkk! 👀👀🙏

Thank you so much again for letting me know my writing brought you such comfort. 😭💕 I hope you’ll stay and interact more as well! 😭❤️ I always love hearing theories or getting a comment to see a reader is rereading or that two readers are discussing something about my fic together. Haha. 😄✨❤️

And so, I suppose I’ll leave it here! I ADORE you and love you so much, dear reader. I am picking you up and hugging you like a stuffed animal. (Glomp!) 🤗🫂

I hope to hear from you again soon! 🥺💕 I’m so sorry again for the wait. 😭

And now… off to reply to four more asks. Lol. ✊

Gotta blast! 🏃‍♀️💨✍️👩‍💻

To any readers that stumble across this and are curious enough to check out my fic:

Tags:

@ensomniaa

@heartfairy

@fangirlteallie

@lemons-2-limes

@shoniwake

@silverwoodj

@lexskiss

@selenaftmarvel

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aetherdoesthings · 10 months ago

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Can I request something with Chopper? Anything with Chopper being adorable, because he is baby and I love him 🥺🥰

hello vespidphoenix! AHHH chopper is so cute i can't 🥹

forethoughts: this is just some adorable chopper headcanons. a lot of robin in this because mother is just trying to take care of her son 😌.

notes: you guys ever seen a close up of an ant? no? okay.

Chopper loves exploring new places and exploring new islands the Sunny docks on. He always buddies with Robin to go with him for the buddy system, and Mommy Robin happily obliges. He goes into the forests in search of herbs to collect for his medicine collection, while being in awe of all the plants and flowers surrounding him, and gets sidetracked immediately.

“Robin look! It’s a fluffy flower!” Chopper points at a dandelion, plucking it out and showing it to Robin.

“That’s a dandelion, Chopper.”

“Woah! So cool!” Chopper holds the dandelion to his face. But the moment he inhales the dandelion just flies into his mouth as he chokes.

Poor Chopper had to be carried back to the ship by Robin in order to ‘rest and recover’, which made Chopper sad because he wanted to go out exploring.

Sometimes when he goes out he just picks up whatever he finds interesting and brings it back to the crew

Chopper just picking flowers for Robin and Nami because ‘they looked pretty 🥺’

At night time when Chopper’s about to go to sleep Robin reads a storybook (or one of her more complex books) for him. It usually takes him one chapter to fall asleep, sometimes half a chapter.

One time Chopper broke into the stash of cotton candy Robin keeps for him. The next day the straw hats found him lying down in the middle of the ship, body limp and smiling like a crazy person. That was the first and last time Chopper would ingest so much sugar at such a quick pace.

As an add on to that I strongly believe Robin has a cotton candy stash (or just the machine) in her room and gives it to Chopper every now and then. Chopper just believes Robin is magic and can generate cotton candy out of thin air, he has never seen the machine and never will.

Whenever he plays with Luffy and Usopp in a game of hide and seek, he always hides in Nami and Robin’s room, because he knows Luffy isn’t allowed inside. But his giggles and that causes Luffy to find him.

Chopper always goes to Robin whenever he's sad or whenever Luffy's being mean to him, and mother comforts her son until he feels better.

#one piece #op #tony tony chopper #nico robin #nami #monkey d. luffy #god usopp #mommy robin #i love robin

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freyasilverbough · 3 months ago

Text

The Cave Bear and the White Wolf - the Road to Moonrise Towers

Cw for blood, burns, bruises, canon typical violence, discussions of PTSD and survivor’s guilt

This installment briefly covers the tiefling party, the crèche, and Grymforge. I’m treating it like a prequel of sorts, since all the good stuff happens in act 2 😌 also pls enjoy some hurt/comfort content towards the end

Halsin had just finished his conversation with Zevlor when he noticed that a certain silver haired warrior was nowhere to be found. The hero of the hour seemed to be ditching her own party.

The wizard - Gale, he’d learned - stumbled a bit drunkenly to Halsin’s side. “If you’re looking for Freya, she’s sulking by the pond.” The human considered his next words for a moment before he continued. “She’s a bit prickly, but there’s a heart of gold lurking beneath that stern countenance. You should see her with the tiefling kids.”

“What do you know of her?” Halsin asked him. He’d been plagued by morbid curiosity since he returned from the goblin camp and set about his business in the grove. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere, and it irked him more than he’d like to admit.

“Next to nothing,” the wizard admitted. “Selûnite, that much is obvious with the way she and Shadowheart argue. She hasn’t said, but her magic is a paladin’s. Other than that, it’s all a mystery. We’ve only known each other a few weeks, and she is quite the closed book.”

A paladin of Selûne. Halsin had guessed before that she was a follower of the Moonmaiden, but the depth of her devotion surprised him. From what little he knew of them, a paladin’s oath was the most sacred promise, and so powerful that it imbued their very souls with oathbound magic. Her near refusal to travel to Moonrise Towers was starting to make more sense. The curse that choked that land was the work of Shar, Selûne’s twin and foe.

“Anyway, pardon the pun, but I wouldn’t go poking that bear if I were you. Freya took off with a bottle of whiskey and a rancid attitude. Best to keep out of her way, if you ask me.” Gale stumbled back to his tent as Halsin considered his warning. There were few things in all the realms too strong for him, and someone ought to make sure she hadn’t drowned herself in the pond.

Halsin found her in a secluded spot on the shore, sitting against a tree. Her knees were drawn to her chest and her elbows rested on them, a half empty bottle of liquor in one hand and a ball of silver light floating above the other. She seemed relaxed, more peaceful than he’d seen her all day. Stripped of her armor and cleaned of the blood that stained her hair and face previously, she was just a woman. A woman who embodied the very moon, no doubt. The muscles in her arms and shoulders were on full display in her sleeveless shirt, and her tight pants showcased her powerful legs. Her body was a weapon in itself, and he couldn’t deny that she was radiant in the moonlight.

Something deep within him stirred, feelings that he’d suppressed for the longest time. How long had it been since he’d last taken a lover, he wondered. The shadow curse had consumed his thoughts for the last hundred years, he refused to let himself become distracted for all that time.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare, or did you need something, druid?” Freya’s voice cut through his thoughts like a hot knife in butter. She took another swig from her bottle and held it out in offering to him. Halsin chuckled to himself as he crossed the space between them to sit with her at her side.

“In truth, I rarely imbibe. Before you know it I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on,” he politely refused her offer as she let out a sharp laugh.

“I fail to see the problem,” she joked.

“Then you have never heard my singing, which makes you very fortunate.” He couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face at their banter. They sat in easy silence for a long moment before Halsin spoke once more, his voice turning solemn. “You’ve seen the ravages of the curse, I gather.” She stiffened at his observation, and took another drink. “I don’t mean to upset you, forgive me. It has just been…a very long time since another soul around me understood.”

Freya fiddled with the orb of light dancing around her fingers for a while. Her blue eyes turned contemplative, as if considering whether to confide in him. “I was there the day Moonrise fell. Don’t ask me to speak of it,” she answered, her voice firm but full of sorrow. “Do me a favor, would you?”

“If it is within my power, consider it done.”

“If I fall in that place, don’t hesitate. Burn my body until I’m ashes on the wind.” She sucked in a deep breath, then extinguished her light as she finished her bottle and rose to stand. Clearly, she held her liquor much better than he did, as her movements remained as graceful as ever. She looked down at Halsin as she stepped past him, eyes swimming with regret and grief. “Lae’zel believes a cure can be found in a githyanki crèche nearby, we’ll start that way come morning. Then, we’ll make for Moonrise.”

————

A tenday after the goblin camp fell, the group that had gone to investigate the githyanki creche returned battered, bloodied, and bruised. Freya’s frustration was written all over her face as she stripped her armor, Lae’zel made for her tent in deflated silence, Shadowheart sported a new mace that looked like the sun itself, and Karlach just hung her head low as she approached him.

“The creche was a bust. The so called zaith’isk blew up, after it just about shredded Freya’s mind. She’s pissed, Lae’zel’s pissed, everybody’s just fucking pissed.” Halsin glanced to the paladin, who was busy untying the braids from her hair as the sun fell behind the horizon. His concern for her must have been obvious, because Karlach hurried to reassure him. “She’s fine, like I said, she’s just pissed. Maybe a bit banged up from the githyanki Inquisitor that tried to kill us, but the old noggin’s intact. For now.”

“Githyanki Inquisitor, eh?” He mused as he lifted a brow at the tiefling. She just laughed.

“Yeah, you should’ve been there, mate. Vlaakith herself showed up and tried to order Freya around. She told us to murder the person who’s been appearing in our dreams, and Freya told her that she could do it herself if she was so powerful. Funny as shit now that we’re out of there.”

Traveling with the party this last tenday had given Halsin much insight into his new companions. A vampire with a newfound ability to walk in the sun. A wizard with such ambition he now carried a weapon of mass destruction in his own chest, one that threatened to flatten the Sword Coast at any moment. A githyanki warrior devoted to her queen and deity. A warlock who made a pact with a devil to save his city. A cleric of Shar, missing all but the most essential of her memories. A tiefling with the best sense of humor and a blazing infernal engine in place of her heart.

A paladin, who would laugh in a goddess’s face and deny her order.

He glanced once more at Freya, who had stripped her gauntlets and chest plate and was now nursing a clearly injured shoulder. He’d been designated as the interim camp healer, for when they came back half dead and their magic depleted - which was actually most days, if he was being honest. Freya, however, always refused his aid. She would make him tend to her companions first, and claim that pain made her strong. She had her own healing magic, as a paladin, but she preferred to use the powers of her oath to smite her enemies rather than keep herself in one piece. Still though, Halsin persisted each time. He’d never been able to keep himself from trying to aid the wounded, it was ingrained in his very nature.

“If you do go talk to her, tread carefully,” Karlach said to him. It was an echo of the warning he’d received from Gale the night of the party, though that had gone well enough.

Halsin watched as she held her hurt shoulder and tried to kick the lid of her trunk open with her foot. A frustrated growl escaped her lips, and Halsin nodded at Karlach once before jogging over to help her. He knelt and lifted the lid as Freya glowered down at him, a usual occurrence these last days.

“What do you need?” he asked her.

She rolled her eyes. Another usual occurrence. Halsin found her snark amusing, and a relief, as it meant she was still herself. “There’s a bag in there with a poultice and some bandages. I’m too godsdamned tired to cast a spell so I need it until I can fix this arm in the morning. Don’t give me that look, the others need your magic more than I do.”

This close, he could see the bruising blossoming on her collarbone and the blood from her shoulder coating her undershirt. Her lip was split as if she’d been punched, and it briefly filled Halsin with a hot rage to picture someone hitting her. He calmed himself when he remembered she’d likely hit them harder. He rose to his feet when he found the bag she was after, but he held out his empty hand instead of giving it to her.

“I’m an Archdruid,” he reminded her softly. “There’s more than enough to go around. Come on now, you’re exhausted and you’ll rest better if you let me help.”

She relinquished her injured shoulder and quickly snatched the bag from his hand, wincing as the movement aggravated her wounds. “I’ll decide what I need, druid.” She stalked toward her tent as Karlach caught his eye with an apologetic smile. The tiefling had tried to warn him, after all.

————

Halsin was reciting his ritual in the makeshift camp they’d set up within Grymforge, the Sharran stronghold Halsin had heard tell of before. Lae’zel, Astarion, Gale, and Freya had gone out that morning to investigate the fortress, but it was hard to tell how much time had passed this deep in the Underdark without the sun to guide him.

After the incident with the githyanki, they’d quickly abandoned the mountain pass and doubled back to the Underdark. They could have reached the shadow cursed lands by an entrance near the monastery, but Freya and Halsin both agreed that the route through the Underdark offered a more direct path with less exposure to the curse.

“Oh, fuck. Hey, Halsin!” he heard Karlach call out for him, and he rushed to the sound. The party had returned, Lae’zel muttering gith curse words under her breath. Freya had one arm around Astarion’s shoulders, and the other around Gale’s, holding all of her weight on one leg. Sweat dripped down her face as her expression twisted in pain. The armor around her other leg had been removed to expose the ruined flesh beneath, and the sight made Halsin’s heart stop in his chest.

The skin on her leg was a patchwork of angry red and blistered flesh, a stark contrast to the smooth, untouched skin that surrounded it. The once graceful curve of her calf was now marred by the ugly, twisted marks of the burn, a cruel reminder of the fire that had ravaged her skin. The skin was tight and stretched, as if it was trying to contain the searing pain within her.

Halsin relieved the elf and the wizard by moving to her uninjured side and carefully lifting her in his arms. She opened her mouth in protest, but he stopped her with a sharp glare before she could speak. “We’re going to my tent, where you’re going to let me heal that leg. Unless you would prefer to be bedridden for days while it heals on its own, which I doubt.” He spoke with the authority of an Archdruid, the authority that he shed weeks before and refused to enforce until now.

Freya’s eyes flashed before clouding with suffering once more. The rest of the camp was silent as he carried her to his tent and laid her gently on his bedroll. He got to work removing her boots and the rest of her armor, stripping her until the plate was removed from her body. The metal was hot to the touch, it must have been cooking her alive.

“Fucking…lava,” she croaked out as he whispered a cantrip to cool her down. “Drow pushed me. I caught myself before I fell in, but it got my leg…fuck it’s hot.” She propped herself up on her elbows to assess the damage, and her bright sapphire eyes went wide as they landed on her mangled flesh.

“Deep breath, Freya,” he ordered her softly as he carefully laid both of his hands on her leg. Blue light radiated from him and she groaned as her skin and tissue began to mend back together. He knew that the healing process was just as difficult, if not more so, for the one being healed as it was for the healer. Halsin paused his work long enough to fill a basin with water and use his magic to cool it to near freezing. He wet a rag, and laid it across her forehead in the hope that it would bring her heated skin some comfort.

“Thank you,” she moaned in relief. He returned his hands to her leg and looked in her eyes, waiting for her consent. She nodded once, and he began his work once more. “They were keeping slaves in there,” she whispered. “The duergar would beat them for the smallest inconveniences, and the drow killed a gnome woman just for being unlucky enough to get trapped behind a rock slide with him. The drow was a ‘True Soul’ too. He carried a busted lantern full of pixie dust. I’d wager that’s how the cultists navigate the curse.” She hissed her discomfort as his magic continued to repair her injured limb.

“Are you afraid?” he asked her gently. They would be entering the shadow curse the next day, and it weighed heavily on his own heart and mind. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath.

“I would be lying, and therefore a poor paladin if I said no. I’m terrified. Every instinct I have is screaming at me night and day to leave this path and find another way.” Halsin’s throat tightened as she spoke. “But,” she continued, “I would be a worse paladin if I abandoned this cause now, after we’ve come so far. My…someone once told me that bravery is not the absence of fear. Bravery is choosing to face it, regardless of how hard your bones tremble or your stomach churns. I owe it to every single soul we lost that day to see this through.” Freya flexed her leg as Halsin finished. “You do good work, druid.”

He could only stare at her like a dumbstruck fool. She was far wiser than he gave her credit for. “You’re right,” he chuckled. “True courage lies in facing your fears. You may be the bravest of us all, paladin.”

“That’s not true. I’m just trying to make it out the other side of this thing with my mind intact.” Her expression turned contemplative. “You’ve spent the last century working to banish the curse. I’ve spent the last century trying to forget it even exists. I’ve killed more Sharrans in Selûne’s name these last decades than I care to count to rectify my failure at Moonrise, but my true failure lies in my cowardice. Perhaps this parasite is my penance.”

Halsin rested a hand on her healed knee and gave it a light squeeze. “Nothing about you that I’ve seen thus far could even remotely be considered cowardly, Freya. Do not punish yourself, it’s not your fault the world is wicked.”

“Yes, well, it’s my duty to defend the innocent and banish evil where I see it. Anyway, we have a long day ahead of us. I should probably give you your bedroll back.” She moved to stand, but Halsin gently pushed her back down onto the fur.

“Rest here,” he ordered. “Your tent is clear on the other side of the camp and that leg will feel better in the morning if you stay put. I’ll take the first watch.”

“The last thing I want is to put you out of your own-”

“You are not a burden, Freya. Far from it. Rest, now.”

He expected her to argue with him further, but to his surprise, her eyelids drifted shut and her breathing slowed as she almost instantly fell into a deep slumber. Elves didn’t often truly sleep, Halsin had only done so himself a few times in his long life, but he knew that the events of that day had exhausted her mind and body. He reached over and removed the rag from her forehead, brushing a stray lock of moonlight hair from her face as he did. He was starting to understand her better, and he very much admired the glimpses he was getting of the woman behind her shield. She was brave and compassionate and powerful and resilient, though stubborn as an ox and more sarcastic than even the vampire at times. Freya was a puzzle that he couldn’t work out, but damn him if he wouldn’t keep trying.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #halsin silverbough #paladin tav #archdruid halsin #halsin x freya

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