#and i can hear and see the scene in my head

[robo-writing]

How different Logan’s would eat you out <3

X1, X2, and X3

✦A mix between ravenous and romantic. He wants you to know just how much you’re loved, and he expresses that by how long he can eat your pussy without stopping. savoring each and every movement from you, he actually enjoys when you lose control and tighten your legs around his head, moaning something along the lines of you’ll be the death of me as he laps at your cunt.

Your thighs quake around his head, hands in his hair as you look down at him. He’s having the time of his life, licking at your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll do in this life, pulling you down and forcing you to sit right on his face.

“Don’t need air, stay,” he mumbles, eyes looking up at you. “Just stay here for me sweetheart.”

You want to protest but goddamn does he make it hard for you, especially when his hands grip the fat of your ass and grind you onto his lips. Higher and higher, you feel your orgasm taking hold with each movement.

“Logan, gonna come,” you whine, and he pushes you as far down as you can go.

“Come on my face doll,” he groans, tonguing at your shaking entrance. “Get my face nice and wet, yeah?”

Origins Wolverine

✦Lovey dovey sickeningly sweet romantic sex; down for anything as long as you’re involved. Sit on his face? Gladly. Pull your legs over his shoulders? Just say when. The kind of lover whose heart skips a beat every time he sees you naked like it's the first time, despite the fact that you're married with a house. Speaks to your pussy as if it’s separate from you.

“How’s my girl doing? Doing alright?”

Your answer is a moan, your pussy clenching around nothing. Logan smiles at your response, thumb stroking up to press against your sensitive clit.

“Yeah, doing just fine ain’t you?” He breathes, kissing the hardened nub before returning to suck on it, your legs shaking in response. “And my other girl’s nice and ready ain’t she?”

“Baby,” you whine, desperate to cum. He’s edged you for as long as possible and you’re almost certain if you wait any longer you’ll actually die. Thankfully Logan grants you mercy, tightening his hold on your thighs as he focuses all his effort into making your pussy leak on his face.

“Come for me sweetheart,” he groans, and you do. Fingers digging into the sheets, you feel your orgasm take hold as Logan wrings every ounce of pleasure he can, kissing at your thighs when your overstimulated pussy can’t take any more.

You barely catch your breath before he speaks to your cunt, admiring how your come trails down your thighs.

“There she is,” he chuckles, index finger slowly collecting the remains of your juices, admiring how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom. “Nice and satisfied, ain’t she?”

DOFP Logan

✦Second biggest munch. Running from danger constantly doesn’t make a lot of time for sex so whenever he finds the rare opportunity to do so best believe he’s jumping at it. Likes to joke that he’s started to go grey because he can’t fuck you as often as he likes. Truly eats you out like he needs your pussy more than he needs air.

“Need to be quiet baby,” he growls, pinning your thrashing hips against the wall. “You’re going to get us caught.”

It’s one of the rare days when you’ve found a safe house, even rarer that it’s just you and Logan alone for once. One look at his face and you already knew what was running through that adamantium skull of his, dragging you away to the nearest closet where you’ve been for god knows how long—the concept of time always seems to leave you wherever Logan’s talented mouth is involved.

You’re biting at your hand to muffle your moans but it’s still not enough, free hand tangled in his graying strands as an anchor. You can see his eyes roll back at the feeling, sloppily kissing up your pussy.

“God I wanna hear you,” he moans. “I’d give anything to fuckin’ hear you baby, but you’ve gotta behave for me. Don’t want anyone else seein’ this.”

The scene is something straight out of a porno—your legs hooked over his shoulders as he eats your cunt feverishly, the filthy sounds he makes with each movement, your hips desperately chasing his mouth—you wish this could never end.

70s Logan

✦By far the most selfish, he eats you out for his pleasure alone. He doesn’t give a damn if you’re crawling away, he will pull you back and lock his lips around your clit until you’re damn near thrashing in his arms, grinding against the mattress because that's just how hard he is. He won’t apologize for making you pass out, nor will he stay the night, but if he likes you enough you might find a card on your nightstand with his number hastily scribbled onto it.

When you decided to bring tall, dark, and grumpy home you didn’t expect it to end with tears running down your face, practically begging for a reprieve that won’t come. His hands lock together, forcing you still as he eats you out, not giving a damn about how pathetic you sound.

“Quit fuckin’ squirming,” he grunts, nosing at your pussy. “Lemme enjoy this.”

The man is talented, that’s a fact. Knows just how to push your buttons in all the right ways, but the problem is that he’s pushed your buttons nearly three times already and you’re almost certain his beard is going to give you the worst rash you’ve ever had.

But damn it if he isn’t responsible for some of the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

“Logan, fuck—lemme take a break,” you’re begging at this point, slapping at his shoulders when he doesn’t let up. Your breath catches in your chest when he smacks your thigh roughly in response, smiling against your pussy when he feels you clench in response.

“Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying yourself,” he mocks, showing just how true his words ring when his fingers rub circles against your clit.

You swear you can feel any coherent thoughts leak out of your ears, focused solely on coming. It’s embarrassing how well he plays your body like a fine tuned instrument, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you’re squirting a mess onto your mattress.

“There we go, ain’t that a sight?” He laughs, pulling you closer towards his face. “Now, be a good little slut and behave while I enjoy my meal, okay?”

Old Man Logan

✦#1 munch and it’s not even close. When his job leaves him tired and his body is sore he finds comfort between your legs, it’s the only time he can turn his brain off and drown himself in you. He’s so fucking starved that he’ll genuinely get lost in his own headspace and ignore your thrashing and whining just to wring another orgasm from your tired body. Kisses your labia and mutters how she's such a pretty pussy as you're trying to catch your breath.

Logan didn't even bother to shed his clothes, making a beeline directly to you the moment he stepped inside your shared home. Dirt still settled on his skin, his head nestled into the crook of your neck as your bodies sway within the closed off kitchen. "Missed me, huh?" you ask, his sigh answer plenty. "Always miss you princess," he whispers, pulling you closer. He lifts you up with warning, sitting you down on the countertop, kneeling between your dangling legs. His beard tickles your bare skin, pulling you close enough to place a kiss onto your pussy, right over the fabric of your panties. "Fuck," you sigh. "You really missed me." His smile is infectious, nuzzling against your fabric-covered core. He kisses you through it for a while before peeling off the moistened garment, thumbs reaching to stroke your pussy. The sight makes your skin hot, hands tangled in his hair. "Been waiting all fuckin' day for this," he moans, spreading you apart and indulging in your juices. "Can tell you were waiting for me too." You feel your body melt with every touch, Logan's hands an anchor as he makes out with your heat, nose bumping against your clit with each movement.

Worst Logan

✦Still trying to wrap his head around you wanting to be with him, but goddamn if he isn’t grateful. Reverent, like a sinner at an alter. Your word is law, likes it when you pull him by the hair and show him where you need it, loves it when you tell him how good he’s doing, presses himself further into your pussy when you’re ready to come. It's all about you and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You lovingly stroke his hair, back arching when he kisses your clit oh so gently.

“Lemme take a look at you,” you ask, and the sight of him is enough to make you come.

Face red, blushing so hard it reaches his chest, eyes so glazed over with lust his pupils leave nothing but small rings of green in his eyes. You cradle his face and the weight of his head falls into them immediately, chasing your touch.

“Gonna make me feel good, aren’t you?” You ask, and he nods his head, kissing your palm.

“Lemme taste you baby,” he whispers. “Swear to god I’ll make you feel good.”

“Never doubted you for a second Logan,” you whisper back, tugging his head back to your soaked cunt. He breathes in your scent, fucking groans at the sight of your pussy before he descends on it, noisily showing you just how much he meant his words.

“Fuckin’ delicious baby, so fuckin’ wet,” he moans. “Can’t get enough of you.”

He only gets louder when you pull him forward by the hair, rough hands leaving a mark where his fingers grip your skin.

[verdenz]

BLIND, DEAF, MUTE

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒⠀→⠀You're McLaren's reserve driver, and the social media team forced you, Lando and Oscar to do a challenge.

“You should introduce yourselves, shouldn’t you?” was the first sentence spoken in the recording, coming from one of the team members.

You and Oscar just looked at each other before turning back to face Norris, who was on the other side of the counter, already wearing headphones and dancing quietly.

“Lando should be the mute one.” Oscar said, cutting a piece of tape that was handed to him and sticking it over his mouth.

“Agree.” you replied, trying to find the best way to tie the blindfold. “It saves the effort of those who will have to censor his jokes.”

“You can start.” they said, and as expected, Lando had to be pulled by Piastri to fit into the camera frame, as he didn’t hear what was said.

The confusion began when you, unable to see, started feeling around, knocking over a wooden spoon in the process. “Why are you all silent? I have no idea what’s going on!”

Oscar just made a muffled sound, forgetting for a second about the tape that prevented him from speaking. Realizing it had already started, Lando "gently" pushed you both aside, standing in the center and starting to show the ingredients.

“We’re going to make cookies because they don’t believe we can make something more complex!” he shouted, making you flinch at the sound, while your teammate just shook his head in denial.

Norris picked up a sealed package, reading aloud. “Do we start with this?” Lando asked. He saw Oscar raise a finger and try to reach for the bag of flour, but he smiled and threw it into your hands, resulting in part of the floor and your clothes turning white. “She has to do something too.”

Oscar took the package from your hands and placed it on the counter. He tried to explain with his hands that he wanted to see the recipe, but you couldn’t see, and Lando couldn’t understand what his teammate wanted. “Paper?”

He shook his head. “Stir the mixture?”

“What mixture, Lando? We haven’t even started yet,” you complained, as if he could hear you. “We should look at the recipe and start.” Then, you heard a sound of approval from Piastri.

After brief instructions from the team, you felt around the counter and picked up a package of sugar, believing you had the right ingredient, and started pouring a large amount into the bowl. Piastri, who couldn’t speak but could definitely see the disaster unfolding, gestured frantically, pointing to the bowl and trying to stop you.

Lando, who was closest to you, took the ingredient from your hands. “This is sugar!” he yelled in your ear, making you try to grab his hair to playfully pull but hitting his nose instead. He laughed and stepped back. “We need to melt the butter.” Norris said, this time in a normal tone but too close for your liking.

“I can hear you without you breathing in my ear.” you complained, trying to find the next ingredients. Oscar held your hand and handed you the pot with the melted butter, since while you and Norris were bickering, he was following the recipe.

“You need to add an egg.” You looked at Lando again.

“Whole?” He blinked, trying to understand what you were saying.

“One egg,” he repeated.

“Whole?!” You nodded, as confused as he was, and gestured with your hands.

“Yes, it’s one.” Oscar’s laughter was muffled by the tape again. He picked up the egg, showing it to Norris. “Break it and put it in the bowl.”

“Whole or not?! Oscar!” You waved your hands, trying to find him to help you, not knowing he was already doing so. He tried to speak.

The team gestured for you to stop, as for the next part of the recipe, they preferred you to switch positions. Piastri was the first to remove the tape and breathe a sigh of relief.

Finally, you took off the blindfold to see how well you were doing up to that point. When you opened your eyes, the scene you found was utter chaos: Lando laughing, Oscar with his arms crossed, and a counter with more flour and sugar than what was inside the container you were supposed to be using.

“Can we take a break?” you asked, already grabbing the headphones for yourself. “Who chose this playlist? Damn.”

The team signaled the start again, and before you could even take a deep breath, Lando was already messing with everything he saw in front of him. Unable to speak, he pointed frantically to different jars and ingredients, trying to guide you.

“This? This here?” you asked, randomly lifting a package of flour. Lando shook his head desperately, making exaggerated hand gestures to indicate what he meant.

Oscar, now blind, had no idea what he was supposed to do. “Shouldn’t we mix the dough?”

“You need to knead the cookies and put them on the tray.” you said, lightly pulling up the sleeves of your sweatshirt that threatened to cover your forearm again. Terrible choice of clothing for that type of activity.

Lando tried to speak, getting agitated once more. You looked at him, he pointed to the bag of chocolate chips, and you nodded, grabbing the package and pouring it into the dough.

Oscar put his hand on your wrist. “Wait, I think it should be less. Right? I can hear you pouring the whole package. We should use a measuring cup—”

“What is he saying?” you asked Norris, who only shrugged.

After a few more minutes and a bit more mess, you managed to get the cookies into the oven, and it was finally time to be free.

“You know, each of you has to be blind, deaf, and mute at least once during the challenge." a team member joked, and the three of you immediately showed your discontent.

As soon as the cookies were ready, you placed them on a nice plate to show to the camera.

“Who will be the first to try?” Piastri asked, running his hand through his hair.

“We count to three, and each of us takes a bite.” And so you did, but only Lando managed to break the cookie. “Why is it so...”

Oscar stared at his, while you stretched out your arm and hit the table with yours, which only crumbled a bit.

“My expectations were low, and I’m still disappointed.” you murmured.

[keepmycandleburning]

An addition to my post about how Voldemort is really invested in other people's love lives: Voldemort has no respect for people's privacy or bodily autonomy, and likes to insert himself into people's space and force people to have a more intimate relationship with him than they desire.

He uses this as a form of punishment, knowing it makes people uncomfortable, and also as a form of entertainment because he finds their discomfort amusing.

He lived on the back of Quirrell's head for almost a YEAR as a punishment after Quirrell failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts. A YEAR. IMAGINE WHAT HE SAW. Quirrell could not have done ANYTHING without Lord Voldemort seeing it and hearing it. I mean he was there when he was using the toilet, masturbating, etc etc. And imagine if Voldemort could also feel all of Quirrell's bodily sensations.

Voldemort forced Wormtail to care for him like a helpless baby, again for almost a YEAR, hand-feeding him and picking him up and God only knows what else, when they could have easily done the resurrection ritual really at any point in time—even if he truly wanted nobody but Harry, Barty Jr. could have brought him from Hogwarts.

Voldemort is clearly amusing himself with the situations at this time, making multiple jokes in just the couple scenes he's in:

'Care for my bodily needs for me,' is such an insane punishment to give Wormtail (definitely a punishment, for being a traitor which Voldemort hates and maybe other reasons) and I do wonder if he also did this to the Malfoys in DH, like forcing them to make him food and watch him eat and so on. It's just so weird to imagine that because he seems so inhuman but I mean, he does it in GoF so...

He also has Wormtail approach him and dress him by hand when he comes out of the cauldron naked instead of just bending down and picking up the robes himself:

He makes interestingly similar comments in the GoF baby era and at Malfoy Manor in The Dark Lord Ascending:

Asking his servants a question he knows damn well the answer to is 'it makes me uncomfortable to have this level of proximity with you,' and forcing them to falsely claim they have no problem with it and they actually want it.

He appears to have literally moved into Lucius's house with him, or at the very least is using it as a professional base. I almost always see people interpreting it as that Voldemort lived at Malfoy Manor, which I don't necessarily think has to be true, but I think it's a fine interpretation, and I enjoy it.

With both Wormtail and the Malfoys, Voldemort forces them to witness him in a domestic setting, forces them to claim they want it, and makes them aware that he knows that they hate it, which he knows is terrifying.

While he's at Malfoy Manor, he inserts himself into their family business (as discussed in linked post), commenting on a marriage in the family, speculating on what children the couple is going to have and what relationship the children will have with the Malfoys. We can see he's clearly using this to amuse both himself and the group of Death Eaters, as he makes multiple jokes (implying Bellatrix may be happier about her family member marrying a werewolf than she is about Voldemort's presence, asking Draco if he is going to babysit the cubs) and allows the DEs to laugh.

He also turns Bellatrix's complimentary but not overly inappropriate comment into what I think is unquestionably a sexual innuendo, and then immediately intentionally embarrasses her and induces a group of almost all men to laugh at her:

Regarding Bellatrix, there's often a misconception of viewing Voldemort as someone who would not stoop to a certain level of bodily intimacy or give up his own privacy—but he shares an entire body with Quirrell, he willingly gives up all of his autonomy/privacy with Wormtail, he even rises out of the cauldron fully nude (could have been done privately, I mean the Riddle House is right there, just carry the blood up the hill) and forces Wormtail to again interact with his naked body (and his real one now, not just the baby one) to dress him. So yeah he very much would, and he does, over and over. Voldemort gets bottle-fed and probably diaper-changed for 11 months but noooo he'd never have sex. Be serious. Voldemort takes every physical intimacy he's offered and much more.

Also just want to note that Voldemort is prone to discussing people's personal lives also in situations where it is wanted. For example, Barty Jr. reveals at the end of GoF that they clearly had some personal conversations about Barty's relationship with his father where Voldemort also offered information about himself. Voldemort definitely seems to know Bellatrix personally, and I would very much guess they've had personal conversations. And also the conversations with Snape about Lily (see last post too)—when Snape comes to him about sparing her, they have a thorough enough conversation that Voldemort believes Snape just 'desired her' and then they follow up later about how there are better women for Snape. He likes other people's business!

Overall, I very often read Voldemort as doing things for a major purpose of entertaining himself. He seems to find amusement in many different situations he's in and make jokes to himself and others. His tendency to overstep boundaries of bodies and personal space—both intentionally and by necessity—is one of these things.

[fxirybun]

🥂 PAC: what is your FS currently doing at the moment ?

FS stands for "future spouse" , the person you're going to marry and create a life together. let's see as to what they're up to at this time !

this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ｰ̀֊ｰ́ )

ෆ⸒⸒ pile one

your future spouse is either physically or metaphorically on a journey at the moment. they may be traveling , relocating , or experiencing a transition in their life. i feel that they're currently desiring some kind of movement and how they don't want to be stuck or stay in just one place. they may also want to explore different places that they have never visited before. i'm sensing that your future spouse received some kind of letter ? perhaps a news that allows them to pursue their dreams or to leave this stagnant situation that they're facing.

this opportunity could make a significant impact on their current path. "finally" is what i'm hearing from them. i can see that your future spouse would grab this opportunity and act upon it swiftly. it's like they've been waiting for this moment to happen. there's something about an event that can give this person a sudden boost of energy within them.

i'm getting that this message came from a faraway distance ? an example would be living in a province and you receive an invitation from a city. there may be a person who lives on a different side of a country who's also close to your future spouse who decided to message them. i'm getting multiple messages. "wanna grab something for a drink ?" "there's a party over here" "you should come over".

i sensed that at first , your future spouse seemed to be thrilled to hear this exciting message yet, i'm feeling some kind of confusion coming from them. "this is new to me , i do not know this place". there's something about the location that makes them feel uncertain whether they would want to join or not. i'm also getting as to how they're wary about the people and the surrounding environment.

perhaps the kind of people who are in this place are all so "new" to them , similar to a culture shock moment. i'm receiving a scene from my head wherein the people wear very revealing clothes and how your future spouse feels a bit out of place. "blind date" it's possible that their friend is secretly setting your future spouse up with someone , not letting your future spouse know about their hidden motives.

this person could be a female or someone who has feminine qualities within them. though the "female" is more prominent in this reading. their energy leans more on the sensual side , very passionate and alluring. this person may have soft and delicate features. even so , your future spouse feels skeptical about this female figure once they meet them in person. they feel that this woman is hiding something from them or that they do not know this person at all.

after a while , your future spouse may want to know the truth from their friend as to why they're being set up with someone. they just want to have some fun and peace in their lives and not get caught up or involved with someone in a romantic setting lmao. “i thought this was supposed to be a party ? not a blind date" is what i'm getting from their energy. eventually , your future spouse would brush it off and enjoy the event throughout the night.

ෆ⸒⸒ pile two

your future spouse is currently dealing with heavy burdens in their life at the moment. there seems to be a challenging situation in their partake and how they have the urge to weigh down their responsibilities. i sensed that they were worrying about what the others may say about them ? 'cause i'm getting the word "discussion" + the show "gossip girl" and how prominent it was in this reading. perhaps your future spouse is in a stressful conversation and how it makes them feel anxious.

oohh i'm getting something about "leaked information" ? this is some high school-level drama 😭 it's like someone found out some info about your future spouse and they decided to spread it publicly , possibly being blackmailed or some sort. because of it everyone who is in the same environment as your future spouse is chattering about the so-called rumor.

gurl wait a min-- it's definitely a false rumor because whatever this information was is so far-fetched as to what that leaker may thought of. surprisingly enough it seems that your future spouse was waiting for their medical / lab results ? something that's related to health and how they've been focusing on their well-being these days yet it was misinterpreted as something else to which i cannot seem to point it out.

"one night stand". it's like they thought that your future spouse got into contact with some kind of transmittable disease that is related to sexual acts but it's not 💀 either way , i can see how they're trying their best to ignore those rumors and decided to focus on dealing with their confidential paperwork matters. i'm getting heavy themes of long-term stability , spiritual , emotional , and physical healing.

i feel that they're also grounding themselves amidst the chaos that they're currently facing. "let me do my own thing" , yeah they don't really give a damn about what others may think about your future spouse because they know themselves better than anyone else. i sensed that they're seeking balance in their life at the moment. i remembered earlier how your future spouse is dealing with too much work which lead them to feel fatigued or tired.

they may want to resolve their burdens quitely and in a rational way, a lot of reflecting for this one. all they could ever wish for at the moment is to have me-time and be in tune with themselves , being in a state of tranquility. hoping that the rumor dies down soon and everything went back to normal.

ෆ⸒⸒ pile three

i feel that there's a new female presence in your future spouse's life and how she's planning to take a visit. i'm also seeing them exchanging messages , emails , or texts with one another , discussing their plans for the future. it's similar to how someone is asking you as to what you're going to do after graduation. whoever this woman is , she seems to have something in her mind that she wants to talk about to your future spouse.

there's a swift movement of news that's coming on their way. it's possible that your future spouse may receive important information or messages from this female and how it is something to look forward to. perhaps there's a given opportunity or a project that was being offered to your future spouse that they may want to pursue.

i'm also sensing how this woman is trying to comfort your future spouse and how there's no romantic connection going on between the two of them. whatever this news may be it seems to be a negative one because i feel that your future spouse is experiencing some kind of worriness upon hearing it. they seem to be also stress , it's like they have lost something dear or important to them.

i'm leaning more so on their career side , it's possible that they may have been declined or rejected by a company or job that they wished to work with. for some of you , your future spouse could also be rejected by a university they hoped to attend yet their college application didn't meet what the university is looking for in a student.

"what am i supposed to do ?" there are a lot of what-ifs that are stirring your future spouse's mind at the moment. it was a once in a lifetime moment for them and when they heard about this saddened news they felt disheartened. thinking about it is gradually eroding their peace of mind and how it causes them to feel unease. they seem to want a change in their dynamic in life.

nevertheless , despite these worries that are consuming them , there will always be a light at the end of the tunnel. for as long as they remain an optimistic outlook , your future spouse will experience positive moments that are entering their life that may bring them short-term relief or satisfaction. it's possible that in the near-yet-distant future , they'll encounter an unexpected luck that aligns with their plans.

[acciocriativity]

-> When they reject you…

... but it wasn't a confession (WOOSAN version)

Genre: angst-ish, bittersweet endings, unrequited love (hard to say from each side tho)

Tags/ Warnings: angsty; bittersweet endings; implied bullying in San's part not done by him; implied body shame in San's part not done by him; San's a coward and don't do anything about it; i don't even now what to say about wooyoung's part, that's a warning?

WC: 1,4 k

N/A: I said that I'd make more of these and here they are (after 8 whole months, I'm so sorry). I didn't forget about the lovely people that loved the MATZ version, this is for you guys!

Please reblog my work if you enjoyed it, it helps to reach other people <3

MATZ Version

Ateez Masterlist

JEONG WOOYOUNG (정우영)

You heard the soft buzz of your phone on your beside table, yet the only thing you did was turn around and adjust the thick blanket under your chin. It was getting cold by the minute and a simple thought crossed your mind before you closed your eyes once again, maybe you should see him one last time.

If anyone told you a week ago that you’d be ignoring Wooyoung’s calls, you wouldn’t believe it, but here you are. You could’ve just block him for once and for all, but a little sick part within you liked to hear the proof of his neediness and desperation. Every call were the solid evidence that it wasn’t all in your head, in fact, he was the once who always seemed to cling to you.

The silence filled the room for barely five seconds, then the phone started ringing again.

You wish you could say you slept well that night, knowing that he wouldn’t leave any voicemails, that little prideful jerk. Instead, the same scene appeared over and over in your mind.

You still could feel his hands around your waist. He made it all so casual, natural and comfortable, like it was supposed to be that way between friends. However, you knew he only ever called you late at night, sometimes just to talk when he couldn’t fall asleep, others to beg you to come pick him up and somewhere in between those moments, he made you believe you were special to him. How special or in what way was a work in progress, you were unsure if his actions should worry you, if maybe it was more than friendly, until he made it all clear a week ago.

It was his birthday, so you did everything you could to make a memorable night, even baked the giant birthday cake yourself. Sometime after the loud music turned into background noise, he found you by the kitchen, then asked you to wait upstairs for him. His room was the only one locked in the entire house, so he left you with the key after sending one of his cheeky little winks your way. You still remember how giddy you felt, because you just received the perfect opportunity to give him that one watch he was thinking about buying it for months now.

The whole day you couldn’t really get a hold of him, something you can not blame Wooyoung of all people for, still, it was dangerously close to midnight. Was it too much to ask for some time with you best friend on his birthday? No, no it wasn’t. You weren’t asking for anything much than a simple conversation and a little bit of appreciation, something you were yet to hear from him. So you waited as much as your patience allowed.

Bu he didn’t show up.

And you knew exactly where he was, most likely having the time of his life surrounded by all your mutual friends, and you did love that about him. You’d always say that he was like your personal ray of sunshine, people like him would always have the spotlight and you also knew he enjoyed that very much. How can you wish something else for him on his day? You wish he had all the fun in the world and maybe share a bit with you as well.

So after waiting for fifteen minutes, you decided that you gave him enough grace already. Wooyoung could get lost in the moment sometimes, so you decided you were going to remind him in the pettiest way you could think of.

But none of that mattered when you laid eyes on him, standing at the bottom of the stairs. He held close one of your mutual closest friend, closer then you remembered them together before. They both were in a small circle by the wall, laughing at something he whispered. Were they a thing now? How did you not know? But there was a larger question taking all the space in your head. Is this how you look like beside him? You were used to the closeness, you enjoyed the intimacy, it could easily be you there right now.

Yet, it wasn’t you and it won’t be.

So why the hell can’t he accept that and deal with the consequences of his own actions? You were giving him what he asked for, space.

Still, he’s calling again.

CHOI SAN (최산)

The moment your existence intertwined with San’s back in college, it felt like people’s perception of you changed all of a sudden. You were nobody to most, then became somebody to him and as a consequence, someone to his friends and acquaintances. It would be fascinating to watch if it wasn’t your own life and if it wasn’t so freaking depressing. A frequent comment you’d hear was ‘how odd the two of you look next to each other’, and there was nothing you could do against a sly remark like that, specially when it comes from his so called friends, and you knew San always took that as a light joke about your differences in personalities.

You don’t remember how it happened, one day you sat beside him at the very back of a class you, so desperately, wanted to skip but couldn’t, the other day you both were attached to the hip. And how could you not? Never in you life you thought you’d describe a man as sweet, not with you at least, but there he was, every day, proving you wrong.

To be in the vicinity as someone like him was a once in a lifetime kind of experience, but to be his friend was another thing entirely. San was one of those people that can make you feel at the top of the world when he pays attention to you, the kind of person that truly seeks connection with those around him and when someone talks, he listens with all his body.

You tried to keep those pros in your mind, but more often than not you caught yourself pondering if it was still worth the headache after all those years, like right now.

You promised yourself you’d come to this stupid five-year college reunion, because otherwise San’d whine about it for a whole month, like you not coming would make him lonely somehow, like that was even a possibility.

Then, it started.

It always does one way or another.

This time was a “innocent joke” about how you glued yourself to San back in the day. They all laughed including yourself, you did not want to make a scene, you never do.

Then there was the stares at the two of you sitting beside each other. That was the funniest part for them, the simple thought that you could still have some hope for something to happen between the two of you to this day and age was hysterical. You could tell since the very start of your friendship what those people thought about you and what your place should be.

Maybe if you ever felt anything towards San in that way, it’d hurt you deeply, but you didn’t and still don’t, so it just pisses you off to no end. However, you don’t have the courage to bring it up and perhaps you should’ve done then, but now you barely see any of them, so what is it one more day?

“You’re good?”, he leaned towards you and his hands caressed your lower arm like it was second nature to him.

You nodded, then whispered as you grabbed your purse, “I’ll be back in a minute”.

It was a long walk to the nearest bathroom, outside of the gymnasium, long enough to calm yourself down and to think clearly.

All the while San was downing a drink after the other, laughing at something he barely heard from across the big table of 9 he was in. Red in the face, coughing like crazy in the middle of the chaos, he did not see you walking up to him.

“What?”, he asked the third time, leaning in to hear his friend better.

“Just admit it already, do you like her, don’t you?”

It took him a few seconds to figure it out what that was about, then a flash of you came into his mind and the recognition on his face was clear to them all. He sobered up quick and sat upright, putting his body weight on top of the table.

You don’t hear what the answer was and you don’t need to. Their laughter, his laughter, echoed in between the song change.

So maybe he wasn’t that innocent after all.

Taglist: @h3arteyes4mingi

[yuuuhiii]

yandere themes, knife usage, mdni

a/n: I need to stop watching Dexter (*´ー｀*)

He loved you so so much. His beautiful bestfriend. You were to good for people, definitely to good for this world. In his eyes, no one was ever perfect for your time.

Nobody deserved it.

Not even him.

But he’d tell himself he was an exception since he was your bestfriend.

You were always nice and gentle to everyone that had the luck of talking to you.

But he hated.

Really hated.

When some morons could think they could have even a chance to be with you. Couldn’t they see that was his spot?

He adored the way you’d reject them, he’d like for you to be more mean but you could never do no wrong. And for the people that could ever mistreat you.

He dealt with them himself.

In the dark of the night, letting you know he’d go get you both snacks and you nodded, a kiss to his warming cheek. He feels the remnants of your lips still on his skin, even when he’s on his way to someone’s house.

It was a guy, someone who thought he could touch what was his. He stops at the end of the street, the guy walking into view.

He knows his routine, where he lives, his name and the best part, how to get in. So before the guy can even make it to his house. He’s settling in, the lights are off and a shot of adrenaline shoots through him when he hears the door unlock.

The guy walks in, unbeknownst of his presence on the couch until he turns the light on. He gasps loudly, almost tripping over his kitchen chair. He turns around from his place on the couch.

“Remember me?” He grins, standing up.

“W-What—Get the fuck out of my house!” The guy yells.

He snickers. “I asked if you remembered me.” He walks over to him. He towers over the guy, a psychotic glint in his eyes it has the guy gulping.

“N-No.” He pouts, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s try to remember okay? You saw the most beautiful girl today? You had your hands all over her, making her uncomfortable right?”

The guy nods his head. “I-I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.” He laughs, squeezing the guys shoulder.

“It’s nothing like that. I’m just her bestfriend, I gotta protect her from guys like you.”

He forces the guy to sit down on his own chair. He walks over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a knife. The guy squeaks, shivering in his chair.

“She was really scared you know? It hurt me to see her like that. I never wanna see her scared. It also makes me upset because I feel like I’m not doing my job correctly. So that’s why I’m here. To finish it.” He pokes at the end of the knife.

“Y-You’re fucking crazy!”

The guy takes off in a sprint for the front door. Making your bestfriend sigh. He goes after him and the poor guy isn’t even able to open the door before he’s dragging him back from the collar of his shirt.

“Gosh you don’t have to make this hard you know.” He rubs at his forehead.

“I swear! I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable! She’s just really pretty—” He nodded along as the guy rambled on, dragging the knife along the guys chest.

“I’ve heard this so many times. Why do you guys always try to justify your actions in the end.” He sucks at his teeth.

“You guys always end up the same either ways. Dead.”

The guys plea’s are white noise in his mind as he plunges the knife in him. It’s always in these moments he feels like something takes over and when he snaps out of it, the work is already done.

He spends some time cleaning up the body. His hands his clothes. Making it look like a murder scene. He curses at himself when he sees the missed calls from you. He dials your number and your pretty voice engulfs his ears.

“Hey, where’ve you been.” He could hear your pout across the line making him smile as he makes his way to his car.

“A lot of the convenience stores are closed so I had to go to one far from your house.” He lies through his teeth.

“Oh ok then.” You murmur and he smiles.

“I’ll be right there ok pretty?” You hum and he hangs up.

When he’s finally back with bags of snacks, you cheer.

“Finally! I missed you.” You say as you throw your arms around his neck. You go to kiss his cheek but spot something.

“Hey what is this?” You swipe your thumb over his cheek, it’s a red stain.

“Huh?” He peers down at your thumb and places the bags on the floor. He laughs and you glance at him confused.

“I might’ve had a little snack without you, it’s ketchup.” You whine and push at his chest but he picks you up, letting you squeal as he places you on your bed.

“It’s fine, I got you all your favorites ok.” He leans in, his breath fanning your lips. It makes you gasp and your eyes lid. He pecks the corner of your mouth, getting off of you and grabbing the bags.

You’re left there on your bed a flushing mess as he hums, sorting out the snacks. You chew at your lip and sit next to him.

“Hey I have a question.” He hums, still taking things out.

“H—How come you don’t kiss me?” He faces you but you’re messing with your hands.

“You’re always calling me names and treating me like your girlfriend. You even scare away guys when they come up to me. But we’re still best friends?” He hates how confused you look.

“C’mere.” He pats his lap and you move to straddle him.

“You want me to kiss you?” He tilts his head and you nod.

His lips are on yours and they’re wasting no time. They’re feverish around yours and if the tv wasn’t on you would’ve payed attention to how loud your guys lips smacked against each others. When he inserts his tongue into your mouth you let out a moan, tugging at his hair. He smiles and pulls away.

“You’ve been waiting for this huh?” You nod quickly.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t feel the same way.” You rest your face on his shoulder. He places kisses on your cheek and down to your neck.

“Oh baby, if only you knew how far I’d go for you.”

YUTA OKKOTSU, KAZUTORA HANEMIYA, HARUCHIYO SANZU, Armin Arlert, Vigilante Deku, Hirofumi Yoshida,

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[thecommunityfridge]

It’s Never Silent in the Nursery

This story is fictional and meant for mature audiences only. All characters are 18+.

  CW: ABDL, DDL, Impact Play, Diapers, Wetting, Little POV

It’s Never Silent in the Nursery

I whimper as I hear Daddy come up behind me while I’m standing in the corner.  I hear him sigh with disappointment and the clink and rustle of his belt coming undone.

  “I’m sorry Daddy…”

  “Hush,” Daddy says sternly.  He gently grabs my arm and leads me to the bed, bending me over at the waist and pushing my face into the blankets.  He maneuvers my arms into position, with my hands resting on the small of my back.  “Keep them there, I don’t want to hit your fingers by accident.”

  I nod as I turn my head to lay on my cheek, just in time to see Daddy lay his belt down next to me.  I feel his hands around my waist, gently tugging my jeans down.

  “Step out.”

  I obey.  I feel Daddy’s hands at my waist again, this time wedging my pullup in between my buttcheeks, exposing as much flesh as possible.  His hands return to mine as he ensures my arms haven’t moved.  He leans forward and kisses the top of my head.

  “You know the drill, 20 spanks, then a break…Ok?” His hands move up to my back as he rubs my back soothingly.  “If you have a good enough apology, we end there… if not, 20 more.”

  I nod and immediately tense up as I hear him stand. The floorboards creak and his hand appears in front of me, grabbing the belt and holding it out for me.   

  “Kiss for comfort?” He asks.  I can almost hear the smile on his face as I pucker my lips and press them against the belt.  The smell of leather embeds itself in my mind, making me recall all the previous times I disappointed him.

  I am quickly dragged back to the present moment as I feel Daddy gently caress my thigh, right before hearing him wind up, the whistle of the belt, and the loud SMACK that precedes the jolt of pain and the recoil throughout my body.  

  I respond immediately, burying my face into the blankets on the bed, and whimpering intensely into them.  

  “Let’s work on your counting Babykins.  Can you count for me?” Daddy says from behind me. 

  “One” I say my voice still muffled by the blankets

  “I need to hear you.”

  I bring my head up to repeat myself, only for Daddy to take the opportunity to hear me cry out unmuffled.  I hear the belt whistle through the air again and make contact.  My reaction is uncontrollable.  I cry out “Aughhh! OWIE,” almost against my will. 

  I hear Daddy stifle a laugh, my childlike reaction causing him to briefly break the intensity of the scene.  Quickly recovering he asks me again, “How many was that?” 

  “Two” I say returning my head to its normal position with my face buried back in the blankets.

  The rest of the spanks carried on without much fanfare, with us carrying out our normal routine.  Halfway through Daddy gently takes my hand and I squeeze it, letting him know I am ok to continue.  With five to go Daddy slows down, giving me more time to recover.  The last two Daddy tells me to start thinking about my apology.  

  Then the last one.  Daddy loves taking his time on this one, letting me simmer with the stings of all the previous spanks still fresh on my mind.  With my head still buried in the blankets I do my best to try and deduce what he is planning next. 

  I hear him take a step forward and place his hand on the bed next to me.  I feel his lips on the back of my head as he kisses me, then stands up.  “Sit tight for me.  I’ll be back in a bit” 

  I hear Daddy’s footsteps go towards the door, then the sound of the door closing and the latch securing, locking me in.  For the first time since we started I relax.  I move my arms up to the bed next to me and unclench muscles that I didn’t realize were clenched.  

  I know better than to move from my position, but my curious mind was getting the better of me.  I tilt my head sideways again to see the belt laying next to me again.  I do my best to look around some more without moving that much, keeping my head down and my rear sticking out as instructed.  Unfortunately there was nothing within my eyeline to entertain me, leaving me alone with my thoughts.  

  I hear Daddy moving around in the other room, the clinking of a glass, then footsteps, then… silence.

  I strain my ears, eager to hear something else, some sort of indication of his presence… his return… but there is nothing.    

  It’s never silent in the Nursery.  

  I shudder as it hits me how quiet it actually is.  It’s never like this.  This space is usually brimming with the clink of my toys, gently droning of my cartoons, my giggles and Daddy’s reassurances.  But now simply lies enveloped in silence… and it’s incredibly overwhelming.  

  I shift my footing uncomfortably. The floor creaks under the change in pressure, the sound echoing like a gunshot, endlessly through the room.  Slowly I feel the tension in my ears growing.  I am longing to hear something…anything from the other room.  Any sign that my Daddy is returning, is present…is at least thinking of me?  

  Nothing…Until…

  Tick…Tick…Tick…

  What is that? I think to myself as I strain my ears to hear again.  

  Tick…Tick…Tick…

  The clock! I think to myself.  I can count the ticks! 

  I start counting, excited to have something to do.

  121…122…123… That got boring fast. I return back to looking around trying to find something to capture my attention.  Boredom setting in fast the pressure of the silence grows in my ears again.  

  And now there was another pressure starting to grow…

See, I had been out the night before, something that doesn’t happen often without Daddy because my shy little self usually can’t be dragged out of the house. But I had the chance to reconnect with some old friends, so I decided to go for it.

Unfortunately, I ended up being out way past my curfew, which normally, that wouldn’t be a problem if I’d just let Daddy know.  Instead, I made the brilliant decision to turn off my phone, not wanting to spoil the fun for myself and my friends.

Three hours after my curfew, I stumbled home half-drunk, only to find Daddy waiting for me… and he was not pleased.  He cleaned me up, stripped me of my going-out outfit, and locked me in my room with Advil, a large water bottle, and a pullup “Just in case.”

Tick…Tick…Tick…

  I eagerly listen for any sign of movement in the other room…but again…nothing

I start shifting around uncomfortably, hoping Daddy would come back soon and tell me what to do.  I whimper as even my movements weren’t helping the pressure on my bladder.

I start to panic some more, the growing urge to go setting off alarm bells in my head..  

“…Daddy?” I whisper into the silence.

  I hear a *whirr* behind me. The Nanny Cam! I hear a *click* as it locks into position

  “Yes?” I hear Daddy’s voice, mechanized by the nanny cams speaker.

  “I…Uh…Hafta pee Daddy!” I say hopefully.

  I hear the camera whirr and click again, then silence.

  “Daddy…?”

  Nothing.  No movement, no footsteps, nothing.  

  It’s never silent in the nursery.  

  I whimper again, almost as if to provide myself with some comfort from the silence as it sets back in. 

  Still in the agonizing position daddy put me in, I start gently releasing my pee into the pullup, hoping it won’t overflow. 

  The gentle hissing noise slowly fills the room, pushing away the silence slightly.

  Tick…Hiss…Tick…Hiss…Tick…Hiss

  My confidence grows as time goes on, but eventually my control gives way, the full contents of my bladder flowing torrentially into my pullup…down my leg…onto the floor.

  Hissssssssssss….drip…drip…drip

  Eventually, what feels like after an eternity, the stream of water down my leg slows to a as the last of the pee drips from my leg.  

  The silence returns, accented by the tick of the clock and the drips of my pee.

  Tick drip…Tick drip…Tick drip…

  “Daddy?” I whisper again anxiously. 

  Whirrrrrrr…Click…

  “…Yes?” The mechanized voice says again.

  “I…uh…had an accident”

  A sigh comes through the speaker.

  “And..?” The voice says

  “andddddd…Uhh…I love you Daddy!” I whisper, not sure what else to say. 

  More silence follows.

  “And…I’m sorry I stayed out too late…and didn’t check in with you…and for turning off my phone so you couldn’t track me…and for calling an uber instead of you to pick me up…and for drinking too much with my friends..and for being bratty when I got back…and for telling you you are a horrible daddy…and…and…and…” I babble on and on until I hear the click of the door open behind me.

  I quickly straighten up, moving my arms back, head forward, and sticking my rear end out again.

  I hear Daddy slowly walk over to me and feel the bed dip down.  I turn my head to see him sitting next to me.  He puts his hand on my cheek.

  Tick drip…Tick drip…Tick drip…

  “It’s ok Babykins,” He whispers, comforting me “I know you weren’t thinking straight last night.”

  I start to stand up straight only for him to put his hand on my back to keep me pinned down.

  “No no no,” Daddy murmurs quietly.  “You still have at least one more spank little one.  And I don’t want you spreading your mess all over the place” 

  Tick drip…Tick drip…Tick drip…

  I look anxiously at him as he gets back up, He lowers the belt to my lips once more.

  “Kiss for comfort?” 

  Tick drip…Tick drip…Tick drip…

I pucker my lips again and brace for the last hit, knowing Daddy won’t hold back with this being the final one. 

  “Ok Daddy, I’m ready,” I whisper quietly

  Tick drip…Tick drip…Tick drip…

  Daddy repositions himself behind me and gently grazes my thighs with the belt, before bringing the belt down a final time.

  Tick drip…Tick drip…Tick drip… SMACK.

  The sound fills the room, breaking the silent tension that had been building since he left.  My cry echos in response, because as predicted, he did not hold back.  

  @#$%!…Mmph…Nnh…Tick drip…Tick drip…Tick drip…

  “…20” I whimper out painfully, my pain muffled by the blankets.  

  The simmering of my rear end had left me very sensitive, with the welts and bruises forming from the previous nineteen spanks making everything nice and tender. Immediately feel Daddy’s hand is back in mine, squeezing it, making sure I’m ok.  I squeeze back.

  “Ok Babykins that’s it,” Daddy says soothingly,” I think you learned your lesson,” He places his belt down next to me and gently removes my arms from my back while helping me stand up straight.  “Stay here, I’ll go get the towels,”  he says, leaving the room to gather the necessary supplies.

  Alone again, but this time, the atmosphere had changed.  I look down at the puddle I made, seeing how far it had spread across the floor.  

  My eyes then make contact with the mirror.  I turn my rear end towards it trying to see the extent of the damage.  I let out a slight grin as I see the welts and bruises starting to form.  As much as the spankings hurt, I do like how well they show up on my skin.

  My eyes then move over to my desk, where my new lego set lays half built, having been interrupted by my antics the night before.  

  My eyes then move to the doorway, left open by Daddy.  I see him closing the hall closet, with a towel thrown over his shoulder, my favorite stuffie tucked under his arm, and a cup of hot chocolate in his hand.  A warmth spreads through my chest as I know that Daddy was thinking about how to comfort me, even as he was punishing me.  

  Daddy comes back in and sees me smiling.  He looks curiously at me.

  “What’s up Babykins?” He says, setting down the cup of hot chocolate on the table and handing my stuffie to me.

  “Nothing.  Just thinking about how lucky I am to have a Daddy like you.” I say sweetly, beaming up at him, eagerly grabbing my stuffie and pulling it close to my chest.

  “Awww,” he smiles back, kissing me on the cheek in response. He gently tears my soggy pullup and starts to clean me up. 

  Tick…Tick…Tick…

  Daddy grabs a fresh pullup from my closet and sits down on the bed, holding it open for me.  “Step in,” He says, his eyes warmly meeting mine.

  I meet his gaze, I lift my foot and step in, letting him raise the pull up into position.  I can’t help but smile a little more as he helps adjust it around my waist.  

  Tick…Tick…Tick…

I playfully run around the room, testing the fit, causing Daddy to chuckle.  “I think this might be some of your best work yet Daddy” I say, running back to show him the marks.

“Oh yeah?” He says spinning me around for a better look. “Hmmm you might be right.  This one will bruise nicely” He says pressing down on it with his thumb.

  “Hey hey hey!” I say wiggling away from him. “Stop it!”

  “Nuh-uh.  Come here.” He says grabbing my arm as I try to escape.  He pulls me onto the bed with him.  I happily settle next to him, resting my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence surrounding me.  

  Tick…Tick…Tick…

  “…did you really say owie?  Like was that on purpose or a reflex?”

  I blush and nod, my head still resting on his shoulder. “…I’ll leave it up to your imagination…”

  He chuckles again, putting his arm around me and resting his head on mine.

  Tick…Tick…Tick…

  “…I actually am sorry.  It was stupid for me not to text you back.  I can understand how worried you were.” I whisper quietly after a bit.  

  Daddy says nothing at first, but pulls me further onto the bed so we are both comfortably laying down, my head resting on his chest, his arms tightly around me.  

  “I know sweetie,” He says, “Just tell me next time, ok?  I just want to know you are safe.”

  I nod, wrapping my arms around my stuffie, holding him the same way Daddy holds me.

  Tick…Pum-pum…Tick…Pum-pum…Tick…Pum-pum…

  Daddy’s heartbeat rhythmically playing with the tick of the clock.  The gentle rise of his chest comforting me as I feel his breath against my head, hear it run through my hair, brush past my ear.

  Tick…Pum-pum-woosh…Tick…Pum-pum-woosh…Pum-pum-woosh…Pum-pum-woosh…

  I close my eyes, embracing my tiredness leftover from the night before.  I slowly feel myself drifting off to sleep.

  Pum-pum-woosh…Pum-pum-woosh…Pum-pum-woosh…Pum-pum-woosh…

It’s never silent in the Nursery when Daddy’s around.   

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 2 EPISODE 08 || THE FOX'S LAIR ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

I snuggled deeper into the comfort of the goose-down bed and turned toward sleep again, hearing with half an ear the baby’s whining, interspersed with hiccuping sobs, and Jamie’s deep, tuneless humming, the sound as comforting as the thought of beehives in the sun.

“Eh, wee Kitty, ciamar a tha thu? Much, mo naoidheachan, much.”

The sound of them went up and down the passage, and I dropped further toward sleep, but kept half-wakeful on purpose to hear them. One day perhaps he would hold his own child so, small round head cradled in the big hands, small solid body cupped and held firm against his shoulder. And thus he would sing to his own daughter, a tuneless song, a warm, soft chant in the dark. The constant small ache in my heart was submerged in a flood of tenderness. I had conceived once; I could do so again. Faith had given me the gift of that knowledge, Jamie the courage and means to use it. My hands rested lightly on my breasts, cupping the deep swell of them, knowing beyond doubt that one day they would nourish the child of my heart. I drifted into sleep with the sound of Jamie’s singing in my ears. Sometime later I drifted near the surface again, and opened my eyes to the light-filled room.

The moon had risen, full and beaming, and all the objects in the room were plainly visible, in that flat, two-dimensional way of things seen without shadow.

The baby had quieted, but I could hear Jamie’s voice in the hall, still speaking, but much more quietly, hardly more than a murmur. And the tone of it had changed; it wasn’t the rhythmic, half-nonsense way one talks to babies, but the broken, halting speech of a man seeking the way through the wilderness of his own heart.

Curious, I slipped out of bed and crept quietly to the door. I could see them there at the end of the hall.

Jamie sat leaning back against the side of the window seat, wearing only his shirt. His bare legs were raised, forming a back against which small Katherine Mary rested as she sat facing him in his lap, her own chubby legs kicking restlessly over his stomach.

The baby’s face was blank and light as the moon’s, her eyes dark pools absorbing his words. He traced the curve of her cheek with one finger, again and again, whispering with heartbreaking gentleness.

He spoke in Gaelic, and so low that I could not have told what he said, even had I known the words. But the whispering voice was thick, and the moonlight from the casement behind him showed the tracks of the tears that slid unregarded down his own cheeks. It was not a scene that bore intrusion. I came back to the still-warm bed, holding in my mind the picture of the laird of Lallybroch, half-naked in the moonlight, pouring out his heart to an unknown future, holding in his lap the promise of his blood.[...]

~~~

“He and his niece seem to have got on well together.”

The picture of them came back to me, Jamie talking in earnest, low tones to the child, tears slipping down his face. Jenny nodded, watching my face.

“Aye. I thought perhaps they’d comfort each other a bit. He doesna sleep well these days?” Her voice held a question. “No,” I answered softly. “He has a lot on his mind.” “Well he might,” she said, glancing at the bed behind me. Ian was gone already, risen at dawn to see to the stock in the barn. The horses that could be spared from the farming—and some that couldn’t—needed shoeing, needed harness, in preparation for their journey to rebellion.

“You can talk to a babe, ye ken,” she said suddenly, breaking into my thought.

“Really talk, I mean. Ye can tell them anything, no matter how foolish it would sound did ye say it to a soul could understand ye.” “Oh. You heard him, then?” I asked.

She nodded, eyes on the curve of Katherine’s cheek, where the tiny dark lashes lay against the fair skin, eyes closed in ecstasy. “Aye. Ye shouldna worrit yourself,” she added, smiling gently at me. “It isna that he feels he canna talk to you; he knows he can. But it’s different to talk to a babe that way. It’s a person; ye ken that you’re not alone. But they dinna ken your words, and ye don’t worry a bit what they’ll think of ye, or what they may feel they must do. You can pour out your heart to them wi’out choosing your words, or keeping anything back at all—and that’s a comfort to the soul.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as though this were something that everyone knew. I wondered whether she spoke that way often to her child. The generous wide mouth, so like her brother’s, lifted slightly at one side. “It’s the way ye talk to them before they’re born,” she said softly. “You’ll know?”

I placed my hands gently over my belly, one atop the other, remembering.

“Yes, I know.”

She pressed a thumb against the baby’s cheek, breaking the suction, and with a deft movement, shifted the small body to bring the full breast within reach. “I’ve thought that perhaps that’s why women are so often sad, once the child’s born,” she said meditatively, as though thinking aloud. “Ye think of them while ye talk, and you have a knowledge of them as they are inside ye, the way you think they are. And then they’re born, and they’re different—not the way ye thought of them inside, at all. And ye love them, o’ course, and get to know them the way they are … but still, there’s the thought of the child ye once talked to in your heart, and that child is gone. So I think it’s the grievin’ for the child unborn that ye feel, even as ye hold the born one in your arms.” She dipped her head and kissed her daughter’s downy skull. “Yes,” I said. “Before … it’s all possibility. It might be a son, or a daughter. A plain child, a bonny one. And then it’s born, and all the things it might have been are gone, because now it is.” She rocked gently back and forth, and the small clutching hand that seized the folds of green silk over her breast began to loose its grip. “And a daughter is born, and the son that she might have been is dead,” she said quietly. “And the bonny lad at your breast has killed the wee lassie ye thought ye carried. And ye weep for what you didn’t know, that’s gone for good, until you know the child you have, and then at last it’s as though they could never have been other than they are, and ye feel naught but joy in them. But ’til then, ye weep easy.” “And men …” I said, thinking of Jamie, whispering secrets to the unhearing ears of the child. “Aye. They hold their bairns, and they feel all the things that might be, and the things that will never be. But it isna so easy for a man to weep for the things he doesna ken.”

35 MOONLIGHT~DRAGONFLY IN AMBER

... tha obair agad. 'se an obair sin, a chaileag, gum fàs u làidir agas sona. Na diochuimhnich......

...have a role to play. Yer role, wee lass, is to grow. strong and happy. Ne'er forget...

... gu bheil do theaghlach timcheall ort, fad na tide, fiù 's nach bith sinn ri fhaicinn. Do sheanar 's do sheanmhair, mo bhràthair Uilleam, mi fhéin, Sorcha. Tha sinn san fhiodh, sa chloich agas ann an gach fuaim's fàileadh an àite seo..

... yer family is all around ye, all the time, even when ye canna see us. Yer grandsire and grandmother, Uncle Willie, me, Aunt Claire. We're in the wood and the stone, and the sounds and smells of this place...

[nixie-deangel]

me to me, in a stern voice: we don't need another idea to add to the list. do you fucking hear me???? WE DO NOT NEED ANOTHER!!!!

me to me, in a sad voice: okay.....I do hear you....but....🥺🥺🥺🥺 maybe think about hangster breaking up because of Jake's family though? just. just think about this with me. okay?🥺🥺 please?

me to me just giving up: *sigh*..............what's the idea?

me to me about to add yet another WIP to my new list: awesome! okay, so we see a lot about hangster being ex's and breaking up (and who's fault it is varying on the shifting tides of fandom and how we're feeling about characters from moment to moment)

BUT have we thought about Jake's family being the reason for it??? like. okay. Jake's family has so many expectations on who Jake should married, that every time Jake brings Bradley (and for this, we're saying both are stationed in Corpus Christi during this period) and they can't help making snide comments to Bradley about how he's not enough and how Jake won't actually settle for him and how Jake will eventually find someone better and more worthy of the Seresin name.

and well, seriously there is only so much Bradley can take, what with him already feeling not enough and out of place and like he's not deserving of Jake's love and attention and time anyway.

so it's the nail in the road that explodes the tire and sends Bradley careening into breaking them up and getting as far away as he possible can because yeah, he DOES want Jake to find his happily ever after and get everything he wants and deserves but Bradley cannot be around to witness his future, his heart, finding what he so badly wants for them with someone else.

and then of course the mission happens and it's just an all around mind fuck for Bradley, though it all works out with him and Mav clearing the air and him and Jake somehow finding a tentative friendship once again.

and then weeks later, Javy makes mention Jake is bringing his new boyfriend around to meet them and he wants to make sure Bradley isn't going to cause a scene or be a problem and Bradley can't help haltingly answering that it's okay, that he knew this day would come, that Jake would find someone truly worth him, that his family would love, someone that was truly deserving of Jake's time and love and that he'd get his happily ever after.

only, Bradley starts saying this just as Jake walks in and is floored because how dare Bradley think Jake could ever find his happily ever after when that was Bradley and Bradley walked away from him, from them! but then he latches onto Bradley saying someone deserving of Jake, someone worthy of him, someone his family would accept and love and things start clicking in his head.

and obviously, Jake and Bradley get back together and Jake becomes an unholy terror to his parents and sisters who were part of the problem, who were the match that lit the fire that imploded their relationship.

idk. just. the thought of Jake's family sparking the match and setting the explosion off is tempting. and I can't stop thinking about it when I should really be sleeping right now.

[serenitylovesyou]

I C A N B E A B E T T E R B O Y F R I E N D

W A R N I N G ! ! - the story contains swearing, mommy kink, praise kink, swearing, sloppy makeout scene, and sex.

As i scroll on tiktok, laying on my bed, snuggling with my teddy bear and wiping my mascara off my eyes with my black hoodies sleeve. I sob some more as the message repeats in my head.

“i think we need to break up.”

how dumb was I to think he was the one for me

“sick bastard.” i whisper to myself. i get caught in a wormhole and overthink what ive done that cause him to end the relationship, maybe i spoke too much around him? or maybe i didnt text him enough, but he hates when i bother him too much. these thoughts go on for a few seconds until i get a text from my friend chris. ive known him for a while and i could talk to him about anything, he just responded from the text i sent a couple of minutes ago about the break up

I hear the door bell ring and i see him standing there at the white large door frame. i examine his black fresh love shirt and jeans, he holding flowers and chocolates to make me feel better

“i got these for you on the way here”

“thanks chris, you really didnt have to”

“well i did, and i got another thing for you…”

“what is it?

chris turns me around and guides me to my bed room, he pulls out of his back pocket a lingerie set.

“chris what the fuck?!” i say as i laugh mid sentence.

“put it on”

“you really went out of your way to get me t-”

“put it on.”

im shocked that he can go from immature to serious in a heartbeat. i put it on and i notice him checking out my figure.

“god.. your so hot.”

i can feel his blue eyes darting at my body then my chest for a few seconds. he gets close and pushes me on the bed. his lips crash into my and he caresses my chest and slowly tries to slip it off. i moan to the touch of my sensitive chest and he pulls away for a second.

“i hope you know i can always be a better boyfriend then him. this will be proof..”

he slips off my panties and puts them in his pocket and unbottons his jeans and flips me over. he teases me by putting the tip on my whole. he slowly puts the tip in and starts to thrust back and forth and picks up the paste. my fingers claw on the sheets.

“mommy your doing so good for daddy, taking my cock like the good girl you are.”

i feel my self getting close and so is he, he picks up the paste even more and im grunting and panting like crazy.

“oh f- fuck.. im close, cmon mommy be a good girl for daddy and let me release in you ma.”

a few seconds later he cums inside me and i slowly cum after. he pulls out and wipes sweat of his forehead. he lays down on my bed next to me and we sit in silence for a few seconds then he looks at me.

“you should always know im always the better choice.” and he was right, this was way better then my ex.

I H O P E Y O U E N J O Y E D !

T H I S I S M Y F I R S T E V E R F I C I W R O T E S O I M S O R R Y I F I T S B A D !

[idjits-areus]

I absolutely *love* the parallels between Dean and Cas' "I need you" and Sam and Gabriel's "I need you."

Dean and Castiel's:

Cas is being controlled by Heaven, well Naomi, and he's physically hurting Dean to get the angel tablet. At this point Dean's on his knees and begging Cas, trying to reason with him.

"Cas. Cas. I know you're in there. I know you can hear me. Cas...It's me. We're family. We need you. I need you."

The simple "I need you" is what pulled Cas out and allowed him to regain control.

The simple "I need you" that was originally scripted as "I love you."

Like, even though the words changed, we can still see it and feel it. Subtle subtext or not. Nothing's subtle about supernatural. They knew what they were doing even when they claim that they didn't.

Sam and Gabriel's:

After Ketch brings Gabriel out of Asmodesus' hands and back into the Winchester's, Gabriel doesn't talk, move, do pretty much anything. He's just kinda stuck in his own head. And you know Sam has to go and give Gabriel one of his famous little pep talks to try and get him back.

"Gabriel, you have to dig yourself out of this hole. Look, I know you think it's safer inside....And this is my life. No matter how many times I tried to fight it, this is what I was put here to do. This is where I make the world a better place. And sure, yeah, hookers in Monte Carlo sounds great, but your family needs you. Jack, your nephew, needs you. The world needs you. We need you. Gabriel, I need you."

The same "I need you" doing the same exact job here. Except for the fact that instead of Gabriel pulling a Cas, he just corrects Sam's words from hookers to porn stars. In my opinion, that's Gabriel's way of trying to hide the fact that he cares just as much as Sam does. Behind the comedy and the jokes he uses as defense mechanisms.

I know just reading words doesn't do any justice, but if you've seen the episode you know what I'm talking about when I say that Sam said it with feelings. And more than just sympathy and 'we need him to help stop Michael' feelings. Ever since Tall Tales, Sam has had *something* for this archangel. It's a shame that the writers never really explored that plot much.

It's-the parallels between the two "I need you"'s is what gets me. Like, they could've just left it with Sam and Gabriel. They could've just left it at "we need you" and everything would've been fine. No need for the "I need you." But no. Because they added it, they made Sam personally care. They made it just as emotionally charged as Dean and Cas' scene. They didn't have to do that. The only explanation I have is the writers knew what the hell they were doing. Once again, nothing is as subtle as you think on this show.

[xxvalkyriesxx]

Flying Changes - Chapter Six

A Nessian Equestrian Fic

Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Read on AO3 or below!

@nessianweek (post for Day Seven - Free Day)

AN: Hello Everyone!!! It's been a bit since I last updated Flying Changes! Thank you so much for being kind and patient with me as I participated in my first Nessian week! You can read the fics I wrote for Nessian week either through my Nessian Week 2024 series or the NessianWeek2024 collection here on AO3!! You can also read my fics on Tumblr if you're there too!

Shout out to IRL fandom friend who's been helping with some details for this chapter and a few others! They're amazing and I love them!!

CW: Panic attacks, discussions on anxiety

Snippet:

“Easy, Sweetheart. Some might think you’re flirting with me.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, her stomach turning to iron. “As if.” 

She stood up from the chair. “Am I needed for anything else?”

Cassian shook his head. “No. But before you go off to read your smut and dream of those “barbaric men and warrior women”, I need you to go muck the stalls in the private barn.”

Arching an eyebrow, she shook her head. “I did that this morning.”

**

Ironically this was the first time Nesta stepped foot into Cassian’s office. It was above the therapy barn’s tack room. Windows were displayed on the side creating a perfect view of most of the stalls. She couldn't help but wonder how many times he had watched her through these windows as she did chores. Was it similar to how she would watch from her bedroom window?

The door shut as Cassian walked through the threshold. The sound made Nesta’s shoulders tense, her heartbeat was faster than normal. A sick familiar wave of dread anchored her belly, pinning her to the chair she sat in. Cassian crossed over to his desk speaking, but not a single word did she hear. Not as phantom memories filled her ears like water. Her eyes were casted downwards, afraid. Afraid of what she couldn’t tell. The anxiety of her rotten memories or the anxiety of the what-ifs littering her mind like landfills.

Will I ever break free from this cycle? Or is this the cycle the Mother doomed me to run in through until I’m six feet under, giving my skin and hair back to the world that created me.

Nesta.

Her name was called, but the voice was so distorted was it even real? Air suddenly felt like a right that she couldn’t have. As she breathed, the world around her began to shrink. The walls of the room pushed closer and closer to where she sat. The furniture scratched across the wooden floors.

Nesta, you’re having… panic attack. I’m going…open the door…let air in…need you to focus… Tether yourself…

The voice weaved through her ears, not catching everything that was spoken. There was a presence near her, but it wasn’t too close, but too far. It was familiar and oddly made her feel warm in the arctic hellscape of her mind. The room froze in her terminal, but the furniture kept quiet, the walls still as statues. Her head took in the scene before her.

Five things. What five things can you see? Can you describe them to me?

Words piled onto her tongue waiting for her mind to open her mouth, but nothing fell out. The presence was still near her, but close enough to touch.

Breathe. Name five things.

Windows. Desk. Couch. Photo. Books.

Good, describe them to me.

The windows are to the right of me. I can see the stalls from there.

The desk is in front of me. It's brown.

The couch is on my left side. It’s velvet and green.

There’s a picture on the wall, seven guys in camo.

Books…They were on the nearby shelf. The books are different colors. Blacks, grays, and reds. Some look thick, some thin.

That’s great Nesta. What are four things you can touch?

Somehow the room started to shift back to place. The walls went back in their normal position. Nesta blinked, feeling the wood of the chair she sat in. Her eyes adjusted, the blur slowly leaving her sight. The chair. The wood is smooth, but the further I go, I feel ridges carved with designs.

Nesta reached over to the desk picking up a stack of papers. Documents, probably important. Thin yet the stack holds weight.

Still on the desk, Nesta grabbed a toy horse. A tiny horse. It’s dapple gray and seems to be cantering. The mane and tail are a little sharp with the horse in motion. It’s a plastic toy, but not a breyer horse.

Finally she reached over to the nearby lamp, her hand around the pull-switch. It was metallic and beaded, slightly cool in between her finger pads. Gently she pulled it, the lamp turning on, a warm light filling her vision. The pull-switch of this lamp. It’s kinda cold, not heavy.

I see you, Nesta. You’re grounding yourself. Can you name three things you can hear?

Taking a deep breath, the air traveled from her nose to mouth, in a setting she didn’t know how long it took her to exhale. Was it fast? Was it too slow? Was this good enough? Her gaze wandered over the blur that tricked her eyes. Slightly focused then slightly not.

Focus. What three things do you hear?

Head breaking the surface of the distorted noise, Nesta focused. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. Nesta looked away from the blurb, her eyes landing on an old grandfather clock. The clock, it’s ticking. She shifted, taking another breath.

Eventually another noise drifted from the open door. A horse was neighing, probably Jasper. He was the one horse who never shut up. The sound gave light to her belly. Her body wiggled and moved in the chair, the anchor pulling from the pit. Jasper. He’s loud.

Then she heard the blur snort, an almost laugh. Or was it a laugh for real? Your laugh?

“Why are you saying it as a question?” “Are you laughing?”

Silence met her until a voice strode into her mind. “Yes, I’m laughing. You know the horses better than I thought.”

“Name me two things you can smell.”

Nesta sniffed and then sniffed again. A scent, there was a scent that swayed around the room that provided enough evidence it was lingering in the air instead of in her head. “It smells like fall. Clove, cedar, maybe a hint of vanilla? It’s not strong, the scent is mellow enough. Like a candle.” Her head wandered until she saw an air freshener plugged into a nearby socket.

She took another breath, her mind still as she narrowed down something else. It came after moments on end as she tried hard to find something past the scented cloud that was in the office. The other scent was fading, but it gave Nesta just the tiniest of scrapes, in the shape of a needle. “Hay…It’s a dumb answer being in a horse barn.”

“Not at all.”

Her come down was less of free falling and now floating. The ground was in sight as if she could stretch her toes down to touch the floor before her feet fully planted on it.

“Name one person or thing that you’re grateful for.”

A slow rise of panic crawled in, making her go from her body floating in air to a being in hot air balloon. The fire brought her up. Nesta took one, two, three deep breaths slowly, keeping her heartbeat regulated. A face came into view of a woman, beautiful brown eyes, black hair. Her presence was what a friend was described as in the books Nesta read. She clung the name close to her heart. “Emerie.”

“Nesta.” The voice spoke her name.

She looked up to see Cassian kneeling near her. Close enough he could touch her if he tried, but provided a safe distance. Something twanged in her heart, but she pushed it away. It wasn’t anxiety, it was nonsense.

“You did excellent.” He praised, a soft smile on his lips. “The door.” She whispered the barrier, but swallowed her anxiety, speaking clearly. “The door. It was the door that triggered me.”

Cassian’s ears pinked as his fingers pulled on his ponytail. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to slam the door like that.” His gaze lingered from the floor to her eyes. Nesta nodded. “It’s..it’s okay, you didn’t know. But I would prefer not to be taken away to a private area when you’re angry. It..” Her memory was bile rising up her throat.

Cassian nodded slightly, encouraging her. There was no force in his demeanor. “It just brings up..bad stuff.” She didn’t want to name it as if it was a curse looking to haunt her. “That’s..that’s all I need to know, Nesta. I’ll know going forward that isn’t the best plan of action.”

“Thank you.”

“I wanted to speak to you in private because I did want to address a few things that happened in that arena.” Cassian said as he stood up, sitting slightly on top of his desk.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” “I hate to admit this Nesta, but you did.” His voice was calm, apologetic. There was no hate or taunt that threaded his letters. “What did you think I did wrong by standing up for Gwyn.”

Cassian shook his head. “It’s not that.. That took courage. Courage that most people in today’s world don’t have.” “Then what was your issue?” Nesta asked, an irritation gnawing at her. “Legal.”

Nesta blinked once, then twice. She didn’t know why but she was expecting something stupid to come out his mouth like because she’s traumatized or something even misogynistic about her being a woman or perhaps both.

“Legally, if you were to do that and not be an actual staff member during an actual lesson if the ranch was up and running, then you would become liable for whatever happens in that arena, and how it affects everyone there and on this ranch.”

A bitter response was out before she could yank the anger back. “Then hire actual people to prevent what I had to witness.” She waited for his anger to bite her back, sending her from panics to complete rage.

“Well…I can’t argue with that, now can I?”

Nesta opened her mouth, then closed, then opened to say something, then abruptly closing her lips again. Cassian shook with laughter and somehow Nesta thought there were butterflies flying in her belly. It would be a lie to say she hated the feeling.

“Forgive me, but you’re just really cute when you’re like that, Nesta.” Cassian smiled brightly. Her face was in flames with how pink her cheeks came to be. She quickly looked away, her nose scrunching from the embarrassment. He laughed a little more before leaning back, his hands resting on the edge of the desk.

“Back to what we were speaking about. I’m glad you were there for Gwyn and helped her get more simulated with horses. It was a greatcall to use Sundrop. However, you may be an Olympic equestrian, but you never trained to work with therapy horses. Things could have gotten a lot worse today.”

He shrugged. “I mean for all we know, the shitty therapist could be bad mouthing the ranch. I guess it’s a good thing we are technically closed. And I guess I still have a lot to learn being a ranch manager.” “I can’t argue with that.” The smallest of smirks on her lips, echoing his statement from moments ago. Cassian pursed his lips as he shook his head.

“Easy, Sweetheart. Some might think you’re flirting with me.” Nesta rolled her eyes, her stomach turning to iron. “As if.”

She stood up from the chair. “Am I needed for anything else?” Cassian shook his head. “No. But before you go off to read your smut and dream of those “barbaric men and warrior women”, I need you to go muck the stalls in the private barn.” Arching an eyebrow, she shook her head. “I did that this morning.”

“Horses shit a lot. Take it as a learning lesson, Nes.” “That’s not my name.” Nesta glared at him. His lips were sealed as she scoffed before turning around.

As she crossed the threshold, Nesta couldn’t help but think Cassian looked similar to his younger self from the photograph in his office surrounded by fellow military personnel.

**

Pushing the wheelbarrow through the barn, Nesta hated to admit that Cassian was right. The stalls were dirtier than usual in between cleanings.

“Damn horses.” Nesta mumbled underneath her breath as she went to the first empty stall. There was a stall sign that resembled a plaque installed into the front of the stall. The sign read “Odysseus”. There was no show name or owner name, but as they didn’t board the barn out to outsiders, it made sense why there was no need to showcase the owner.

With the pitchfork in her gloved hand, Nesta cleaned out the stall, ridding it of the dirty hay and shit that littered the stall mat. Next, Nesta grabbed the buckets from the stall, giving the water and food buckets a good rinse both drying them off. On her way back, she grabbed new bedding. She layered the new bedding over the mat, making sure it was rid completely of manure and wet bedding before the new bedding was placed.

Before coming to the ranch, Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she used any of her muscles before her fall. She used to dance on the side, and did it while she drank, but it had been almost a year since she last had the urge to dance at all. The first two weeks were rough, but slowly the settled routine gave her some stamina to flesh out.

It didn’t stop her from breaking a sweat once she finished the first stall. The wheelbarrow wasn’t too full, so Nesta moved along to the next empty stall, when something shiny caught her eye. It was a necklace that hung right outside the stall. Taking a closer look, Nesta’s fingers held it up.

A dog tag.

Usual dog tags had the person’s full name, service number, blood type, and religion, instead this one read something entirely different.

Baby Bat | NCAF | PJ

Confusion scrawled onto Nesta’s features as she touched the custom made dog tag. NCAF was the Night Court Air Force, but nothing came to mind with PJ. Maybe it was their unit? But who was Baby Bat? Her teeth bit her bottom lip as she recalled hearing that Rhysand and Azriel served in the NCAF with Cassian, could this be one of theirs?

But as Nesta looked up she noticed another silver dog tag at a different stall. How did I not notice these before? This one read as:

Bat Jazz | NCAF | PJ

Apparently they were fond of bats in this family..Nesta rolled her eyes as she looked back up, noticing four more tags across different stalls. She tilted her head, thinking.

There’s six tags in here, but the photo in Cassian’s office, including him there was seven. Rhysand and Azriel were not in that photo either. Nesta thought to herself as she tried to piece together a puzzle with half the box missing.

“Hey Nesta.” A voice said behind her.

Nesta immediately jumped up, shock and fear twirling around her spine as she spun around to face the person.

“What the fuck..oh..Azriel..what are you doing?” Her gaze traveled from his face to his hands full carrying a western saddle. The color was a rich dark brown, almost black with the horn at a normal height.

“Not much, just polished my saddle for Singer.” She blinked. It was the first time she saw either of the Valyrian brothers hold horse tack.

“Do you compete?” Nesta nodded to the saddle. “Yes’em.” A draw flowed from his voice. “'You ever learned to ride western?” Nesta snorted. “Of course I did. Just because my focus was on English equestrian didn’t mean I didn’t branch out of it every once in a while.”

She leaned against the stall door. “What do you compete in?” Azriel shrugged. “I do a little of everything at the rodeos. Although I focus mainly on bull riding.”

“You bull ride?” Her jaw dropped, just a fraction. “Sure do. Windhaven is small enough that my record is impressive.” “Which is what, three seconds?”

“Ten seconds actually.”

From what she knew about bull riding, which wasn’t a lot, it was extremely impressive. Her gaze traveled up and down Azriel noting the muscles she never really noticed before in his shoulders and arms. They weren't as thick as Cassian’s but Nesta could tell the muscles were strong. A slight pink dusted on her cheeks as Azriel caught her stare but moved past her, heading to the tack room before returning.

“Who’s Baby Bat?” Nesta asked, pointing to the dog tag. Azriel stopped in his tracks. “A friend of the family.” His tone was melancholic. It seemed that he stared off in the distance, almost looking right through her. Nesta held her tongue, not wanting to take a deep dive today.

“Thank you for today, helping with Gwyn and all.” Nesta commented, changing the subject. At the drop of the ginger’s name, Azriel regained his focus at Nesta. “I should be thanking you actually. I worked with her when she came here last and I generally thought it was normal nerves, but something was off. And my mother raised me to be a respectful gentleman, so I didn’t push.”

“Weren’t you raised by Rhys’ mother?” Nesta asked. He shook his head. “A story for another time.” They stood in silence as they ventured off into awkward territory if neither of them spoke or did something.

“How long have you been into her? Gwyn I mean.”

Azriel startled. “When did I say I was into Gwyn?” “I may be a recovering alcoholic, but I know the laws of attraction, Azriel.” “It’s nothing.” Azriel grumbled.

“You have this look on your face when you’re with her, you know. Growing up I would hear it all of the time by my sister. The Artist’s Gaze.” Nesta rolled her eyes. “You could stare at a work of art for hours and never bore, never stray.” “I’m assuming Feyre was the one to say this, not Elain.” Azriel replied, leaning against one of the box stalls.

Nesta’s stomach twisted. “It was actually Elain. That’s how she would describe Feyre whenever I called home to check on them.” “How do you know, Elain?” She crossed her arms at the mention of her sister. Her words from their last phone call haunted her mind.

“It’s complicated.” Azriel said, dropping his gaze. “It always is with an Archeron.” Nesta mumbled before she looked at her phone, checking the time.

“I need to head out to AA or else I’ll be late, come on.”

**

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @chairofchaos, @blueunoias, @velarisdusk, @c-e-d-dreamer, @jsmelodies, @inkedinshadows, @wolfnesta, @lilah-asteria, @highqueenmorrigan, @daughter-of-lethe

[bozhenkamoya]

#notmylouis

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF THE NORMANDY SUMMIT

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Primarch Adrien Victus, Dalatrass Linron, and Urdnot Wrex With: Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor Commander, you need to keep Cerberus at bay- I can't overstate what a victory a treaty between the Turians and the Krogan would be for the Alliance. We need all the help we can get... Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[sysig]

My kingdom for a "So you say” (Patreon)

[killjoy-prince]

I now know the context for the 'Doctor... you're huge' line