Myhiraeth

hiiiiiiiii I swapped over to a new, well organized blog so I can keep shiz straight in my head and hopefully on my blog this time, so follow me [ OVER HERE ] 

IT MEEEEE

@goldenreign​ sent: Consider this a meme of that lip touch move

He really needed to kiss her- it wasn’t that he wasn’t listening as she talked, it was that he was listening. He’d never say it out loud because even he could hear how sexist it sounded in his head, but she was so fucking sexy when she did her In Charge thing. Listening to her organize, order, instruct, it was the best kind of turn on. The ordering thought had devolved now that it was just the two of them; she was still straight-spined, still in charge, but there was worry creeping into her to-do list, a fear that if she didn’t accomplish the unfairly long list she was putting on her shoulders she’d fail, and if she failed, people would die. 

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching to run his finger’s through the loose strands of hair. Sometimes she hated that, would smack his hand away and that was fine if she did that now- that movement too would at least distract her from her growing ‘do this or people die’ list. She didn’t, though, just stopped talking with a confused and ready-to-snap-at-him look on her features. “Breathe.” He instructed, leaning in close enough to feel her breath on his own lips. “Or better yet, don’t.” He said with a smirk, tilting his head to capture her lips with his. 

Or so he’d thought. She barely let his lips brush hers before she’d leaned back just far enough to lift her fingers to hold them up to his lips, preventing him from chasing her lips with his. Electric blue eyes dropped down to her fingers for a split second before they came back up to her own. Had he overstepped? Was this the precursor to a slap perhaps? But then her lips twisted into a smirk and her fingers dragged sensuously down his lips, pulling his lower one down with them and making him gulp audibly as his eyes fell back to her fingers, watching them crawl lower and lower until they were at his chin. 

Still frozen in place at the sheer sexiness of the action, he couldn’t even think to bring his eyes back in time to catch the flash of mischief in her turquoise eyes, and in a split second her hands twisted and those beautiful fingers were under his chin and forcing it upward, forcing his eyes back to hers.

Cheeky, today.  

as I get home from groceries and settle back in to write it seems like a great time to remind everyone that Circe literally NEVER mentions her mother and anyone talking to her probably assume mom is dead because she sure af talks about her father.