#The amount of DETAIL paid to things like this

[saltpepperbeard]

y’all i’m in both david and mark motherbaugh’s walls for this one.

i was going through bits of footage for gifs as i do, and realized that the little note progression in the alma+stede scene sounded very familiar. sure enough...

it’s the same little progression as the pre-kiss confession, just in another key. it’s the lead-in to the love theme.

something something the handling of stede’s heart in both scenes. something something love but in different ways, hence the same song but in different keys. something something love towards stede finally progressing to the intended point.

...tldr, this show is insane for its symbolism and motifs and it’s wild that we keep discovering things over a year after the first season dropped.

[oldwebsanrio]

please pray with me so that my things that have been in shipping limbo for the past month and finally leaving japan will not be hit by tariffs 🙏

[orcelito]

Still thinking about being a business analyst. Thinking about how the business analyst job is fully remote work, aside from a week of in-person training. Thinking about how well my degree applies to being a business analyst. Thinking about how well a business analyst gets paid.

[flowafairy]

holding you , holding me ✿ bllk men

﹒postscript : when they realise they’re in love, with you. ɞ‎ feat. nagi, reo, rin, karasu, shidou, sae, kaiser ɞ‎ cw fem reader in a few, banter, suggestive

nagi realises he’s in love with you when the late night calls start getting more frequent. he had started craving your presence more and more. hell, he felt lovesick.

“what a hassle..” nagi’s head flops against the bed sheets, his gaze constantly shifting to his phone to see if you’ve replied to his text yet.

the nagi waiting for your texts? not to mention texting first, call a man whipped!

”i only take a few second’s to reply..” nagi picks up his phone again, grumbling when his notifications are empty. if he replies as soon as you do, why do you have to spend the next 3 decades replying back?

nagi’s usually the one who replies and then logs on minecraft for hours. him replying in mere seconds at your texts—you’re definitely special. very special in his eyes, oh. there’s something else that caught his eyes.

nagi’s phone lit up with a notification, from you.

sure! it’s a date then :))

cool, :x. 7PM?

reo realies he’s in love with you when his pockets really start to hurt.

i mean really. he’s been spoiling you relentlessly for the past few weeks. even if you insist you don’t need a new shirt, by tomorrow your closet is filled with them.

you just can’t seem to escape his mind. whenever he walks by the street and spots a store, his first thought goes to you, that maybe you’d like this. that maybe he should buy it for you—of course he will.

“you know.” reo smiles at you as you try on the new necklace he bought for you. “i booked a dinner for us, just us.”

“oh?” you hum, still struggling with the hook. “can you help me?”

“sure.” he’s more than happy to help you hook your necklace—a chance to put his hands on you? he’ll take it gladly.

“so about that dinner..” his hands swiftly clasp your necklace around your neck. “are you coming or what?”

“i don’t know… the mikage reo taking me out?” you grin up at him. “im a little shy.”

you and reo laugh soundly, well, looks like you’ve got a date tonight.

rin couldn’t believe it.

he’s in love with you, playback—he’s in love.

it started off with smaller details, like how he would leave his soccer practice or gym earlier than usual to see you. and also how his messages app slowly started to become his most used app.

soccer wasn’t everything anymore, he had you too now.

“don’t make me waste money on this lukewarm shit ever again.” rin gruffed as he watched you sip the drink he had bought you from the convenience store earlier.

normally, he’d never waste his money on some useless milkshake from the store, that’s not even good for your body. but seeing you contentedly gulp at the fresh taste of your drink, he can’t seem to hold himself back.

“give me some.”

the words slip out of his tongue before he can control them.

“you wanna try?” well he’s definitely colored you surprised now. “come here then, rinnie.”

rin could feel his face slightly heat up at the nickname. he scoots closer to you, snatching the drink from your hand with no warning.

“hey!” you glare at him as he drinks the entire thing in one gulp, definitely not what you anticipated. “that was mine, you were supposed to take a sip.” you huff at him.

rin only rolls his eyes. “i paid for it. ill buy you a new one later.” your eyes sparkle at his words.

“fine, you win.” you smile. “im going to get going before you become grumpy and tell me to shoo.” you give him a teasing wink, about to get up from his couch when suddenly he grabs your arm.

“wait.” he grits his teeth, biting back words. “don’t go.”

“rin?”

“just, don’t.”

“you missed me, huh?” karasu smirks. he had his hair down, for once not put up with an insane amount of gel—karasu in all his glory.

“i didn’t.” you huff at him. “you look even uglier with your hair down.”

“yer’ comparing my beauty to your birds nest?” karasu crosses his arms, leaning against the door.

“oh, we can see them split ends girl.” you roll your eyes.

karasu has always loved bantering with you, but nowadays, it seems as if his heart has been telling him thats not the only reason his heartbeat speeds up whenever he’s around you.

he loves bantering with you, he loves you.

there’s a prolonged silence, karasu’s anticipating if he should say what he’s about to say. he usually isn’t this nervous—you’re the exception to that.

“you think you wanna go out sometime, yeah?” it’s the way his sharp eyes soften that makes your heart start doing flips.

“yeah, i do.”

there’s a moment of comfortable silence, your brain ingraving the memory in the back of your head. which of course, quickly gets ruined by his cocky smirk. he wasn’t the best at dealing with these moments

“even y’can’t resist my charm.” karasu sticks his tongue out at you. “ill pick you up at 9.”

“you… get back here!”

shidou could feel a wide grin on his face as he read your message—“sure, i’d love to go sky diving with you!”

anybody would of said that is a crazy idea for a first date, but you? you can say you definitely match his freak.

his heart explodes into a burst of enthusiasm whenever you’re around him. he can feel a rush of serotonin whenever you accidentally brush your hands against his.

oh he was so in love. he is definitely wifing you up when you deploy the parachute- how could he not when he feels like he’s going to explode with all these bottled up feelings.

he in fact had a very disappointed pout on his face when you said it was far too soon for marriage, so what if you’re not dating yet? you can start now!

your betrayal will not be forgotten. but hey, he can try again next year.

sae realised he’s in love with you when you started becoming an avid figure in his daily routine.

it was like muscle memory for him to wake up and check for your good morning text, never failing to emit an amused scoff from his lips.

of course, he acknowledged the fact that he was in love with you. but would he dare entertain the thought and risk the beloved friendship you already have? never.

“nobody’s looking.”

this was dangerous. he has you trapped against the wall in the locker room, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. he wasn’t suppose to be doing this—but how could he resist when you came to see him at practice?

“sae…we can’t here.” you try to be rational, but your breathing is just as heavy as his.

“just shut-“

footsteps. someone was coming. sae pushes you away behind a locker so nobody see’s you, leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

maybe next time he’ll get you.

kaiser took some time to notice his feelings, but even he started getting self conscious of all the excuses he started making to touch you, and the flirting was starting to cross a few boundaries as well.

maybe he’s just lust-driven, that’s all he thought for a while. he chose to distance himself, and you didn’t miss the change in his behaviour.

he thought distancing himself would help ease his feelings.. not make them worse.

he can feel his heart throbbing, mind full with only thoughts of you—is it love or is it lust?

he doesn’t know, he’s never felt like this before. what even is love? thats stupid.

“hey.” he smirks, grasping your hand, a habit of his by now. “what are you up to, schatz?” the light-hearted pet name rolls off his tongue smoothly.

“michael.” you look at him, eyes widening a little. “i haven’t seen you in forever.” his expression slightly wavers at that.

“oh i’ve been.. busy.” he lies, smiling. the truth is, he hasn’t been busy at all. he’s been avoiding you, you and your precious smile.

“its okay.” you pat his shoulder. “i just missed you.”

“i missed you too.” he blurts out unknowingly, slightly flinching at what he said. “i’ve been avoiding you.” he confesses.

your eyebrow’s slightly raise at that. “…why?”

“because.. i don’t know.”

your hands hesitantly reach out. you knew how he was about physical touch, but maybe just this once he needs it.

he bents down a little, his face hitting your shoulder as he reciprocated your hug.

“Ich liebe dich.”

apologies, some parts aren’t as long as the others. i got lazy ( and have favorites… ✌️) only 7 chrc bc i had no ideas for isagi

[kirbmey]

⠀⠀ཐི ˚̣̣̣ ⠀⠀ husband!sylus spoils you rotten⠀ ˚̣̣̣ ཋྀ

synopsis: sylus’ just a man who’s blindly in love at the end of the day. a man who’s also ridiculously rich and happens to be married to a little angel who loves pink and shiny things ꒰՞◌• ༝ •◌꒱♡

tw: more fluff (i just need him to take care of me), usage of ‘daddy, reader is a sweatheart, money doesn’t have value for these people at all, reader is very feminine and materialistic (sylus’ fault), mentions of pregnancy and baby fever, he smokes, etc.

being laid down on top of the pink fluffy blanket covering the big four-seater leather couch while waiving your feet slowly and scrolling mindlessly through your favorite luxury brands’ websites was definitely a hobby; an expensive hobby.

but weren’t those pink miumiu ballerinas just so perfect for the spring? and what about that dior shoulder bag? the handle made out of white gold with little diamonds creating details around the fabric? to the cart it goes.

let’s not even get started with make up, knowing how much sylus liked it when you wore this crimson chanel lipstick to his prestigious meetings, you just had to buy another one, and it had to be the limited edition, too… ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

he was more than okay with you leaving him dry (he has money for infinite lifetimes) every other day, handing you his black card when you two started dating a year ago; got married two months after.

sylus just had to make you his wife, his trophy, you were so perfect to his eyes, his ideal type. everything about you, physically and mentally fit with him like a puzzle. like a barbie to her ken.

and he was so… so. god, he was like a god (he kinda was). tall, fit, deep voice, pretty face, beautiful eyes, soft hair… and a plus to that, he was rich and influential. and he wanted you and only you! ૮ ෆ ´ ˕ ` ෆ ა

so you just clicked on the ‘check out’ button and wrote down the digits you ended up learning by heart, caressing the rock on your finger while waiting for the confirmation of your order.

sure, these expensive goods took longer than usual to be shipped, blah blah blah. sylus was one of the richest men in the country, his name was written in gold on every luxury brand list. when they saw he ordered something, anything, even just a hair clip, he was prioritized.

you happily jumped out of your seat, skipped with joy towards your husbands office, knocking before hearing a clear ‘come in’ from him.

“daddy, daddy! wanna see what i got for tomorrow’s party?” you asked with that sweat tone that you only reserved for him, sitting on his expensive wooden desk and swinging your feet.

“of course i do, kitten, lemme see.” he closed his laptop immediately, pulling the tall leather chair closer to your small frame and holding your ankles between his slender fingers, massaging your manicured feet while you scrolled through your phone to show him pictures and the inspo you got out of pinterest.

you started to rant about all the things you bought with his money, gaining low hums while he stared at you with heart-shaped eyes, an erase-able smile plastered of his sculpted face.

sylus loved it when you used his money and then bragged about it, loved it when someone complimented your outfit at a fancy dinner and you kindly thanked, saying your husband bought it for you.

but his favorite part of this whole process was when you made him sit on your bed which was filled with high-end bags, so many that the sheets weren’t even visible anymore, and gave him a detailed haul of everything, with try on included (by his request).

he’d order you to twirl around while he sipped on some french wine and smoked his cuban tobacco, manspreading so you could stand between his legs and allow him to take in every detail.

ever since he started dating you he slowly noticed these expensive brands paid crazy amount of attention to every detail, and he loved tracing the intricate shapes printed on the fabric while complimenting you.

but you were no selfish! no sir, you also bought things for your beloved, fantasizing about matching outfits with him, ordering him light colored clothes; things he’d never wear if it wasn’t for you.

“mm, what else do we have here… i don’t even remember what i got this time.” you mumbled while you stood on your knees on top of the mattress, throwing the empty bags away as you looked for the ones you haven’t opened yet.

“oh. my. god. sylus, close your eyes.” you told him trying to mask your excitement, grabbing the huge bag between weak fingers and placing it in front of him. “open them now, look.”

“isn’t this too big for you, honey?” he questioned leaving the cigarette in the ashtray, holding the white leopard fur coat up, the tag said ‘dolce & gabbana’, one of his favorite brands.

“no, silly. it’s for you. i thought you’d look so good with it on.” you revealed, grabbing his hand to coax him into standing up, stripping him naked out of his shirt and getting on your tippy toes to dress him with said coat.

he really looked expensive with it on, showing off his trained abs and juicy pecs while making his broad figure appear even more prominent, the neck chain he often wore visible.

he wasn’t used to using big pieces like this, but he let you style him as a mere mannequin; he’d always get more compliments then usual on his outfits ever since you started matching them with yours.

he’d often caught you checking out baby clothes or nursery furniture when your period got close, too. and couldn’t help but imagine how good of a mother you’d be, how beautiful you’d look in your sleeping gowns with a swollen belly.

if sylus already cherished you in front of everyone, proud of showing you off as his wife, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of showing off an entire family ૮꒰ ྀི ◜ . ◝ ྀི꒱ა

but there was time for that, you were too young still and he wasn’t going to age or die any time soon.

he just hoped you wouldn’t ask for a baby; he didn’t know how to decline you.

a/n: i’ve been an unfaithful girl writing sm about caleb and neglecting my favorite boy sy like this :(

— masterlist.

[miajooz]

Lens ✦ Photographer!Ellie HCS

Photographer!Ellie who fell in love with you the first time she saw you in the studio. she was new to the agency, but when she saw you it felt motivating. she insisted on being your main photographer.

Photographer!Ellie who has every single magazine or article you were ever showed in. even if it was just a page or a single photo, she has it. she has a whole display shelf of them in her room, her favorite ones are the ones she shot herself. the amount she paid for the older ones on ebay is downright embarrassing. but why would she care? she had all the magazines!

Photographer!Ellie who literally fought a man at the checkout in a walmart for the newest magazine. what was she supposed to do, let him have it? hell no, not when you were literally on the front cover.

Photographer!Ellie who can’t help but mutter compliments when she’s photographing you. she thinks you don’t hear her, but you do. you always catch onto the way she flicks her tongue against the inside of her cheek or how she looks at the camera with wide, enamored eyes, when she tries to keep her mouth shut. or maybe when you’re just in some kind of revealing outfit. or maybe, any outfit at all drives her crazy.

“point your chin a bit to the left, yeah?”

“damn..”

“you’re so perfect, you look gorgeous in that.”

“eyes on the camera, pretty girl.”

Photographer!Ellie who draws sketches of your body in certain outfits. she makes her own little fantasies of things she wants to see you in, or maybe just things she wants to photograph you in. the amount of times she’s shown her ideas to dina (the manager) was downright shameful.

“can’t you just consider it? you know it’ll look good on her!” she urged, holding her sketch up to dina. the sketch was too perfect, there was so much detail to your body it was amusing. that’s because she had a million magazines at home for reference.

dina just shook her head and sighed, but she found enjoyment in this. dina was the one who convinced ellie to join her agency in the first place. “i’m sure it would look great, ellie.” she said, clearly just amusing her ideas.

ellie looked hopeful, though it vanished when she saw dina laughing at her. “are you serious? you know the agency and people would love to see this, it’s a good idea!” she argued, trying to sound generous. but maybe she just wanted a magazine in her collection with her ideas.

“i’m sorry, you don’t have a say in these things. you’re a photographer, you should’ve went up. but no, you wanted to be the main photographer for your girlfriend.” she’d say teasingly, but she always felt and when ellie looked defeated. “i’m just playing, i’ll see what i can do.

Photographer!Ellie who’s so used to seeing your perfect shoots, she notices the smallest errors. if a hair is sticking up, to a piece of cloth is wrinkled in a non-calculated way. absolutely everything.

“no, no. we gotta retake that one, do you see how slanted that eyelash is?” ellie would say, shaking her head at the photos while you waited there happily.

“bitch, it’s an eyelash. are you being serious?”dina would argue, knowing nobody would notice such a thing besides ellie.

“yes, fix it.” she’d urge, waving her hand dismissively and requesting somebody to come and fix your one eyelash.

then she’d look at you and just smile, “hang on, hun. you’re almost perfect.”

Photographer!Ellie who actually had the balls to ask you out. she went on a whole ramble about how pretty she thought you were and how she changed her whole schedule so she could photograph you. it was so adorable, she stood there with her hands behind her back and her camera over her neck. you were in some sort of pretty, silk dress. she was so cute, how could you say no?

Photographer!Ellie who took photos of you on your date. she insisted on bringing her camera, she wanted to see you in a more natural setting. it was better than she could’ve ever imagined, she fell even harder. it was like all those imperfections caused by the wind or just existing didn’t matter, they only did in a studio. you didn’t have to try and be perfect for her, you already were.

Photographer!Ellie who invited you over after your first date. when she invited you into her room to show off some of her work—you found the magazine collection. better yet, you found all the sketches she made of you. to say you were flattered was an understatement. despite your flattery, ellie was absolutely mortified.

Photographer!Ellie who asked you to be her girlfriend while you were at her house, literally taking off your makeup from a photo shoot. there was mascara smudged on your face and you looked like an absolute clown. you felt embarrassed for being asked when you looked like a horror movie figure—but something about this way she asked you even if you didn’t look as presentable made it so much better. she asked because she loves you, not because of an appearance. you only kissed her when your face was all clean.

Photographer!Ellie who has a ton of polaroids of the two of you together, or just you. you were more of a crafty person, so you made it into a scrapbook. that’s probably her favorite item in her house.

Photographer!Ellie who has various photographs of your body. she can’t do naked ones in the studio, so she does it at home. it’s not even in a sexual way, your body is just so gorgeous to her. you’re a literal work of art in her eyes.

“shit, babe. i wish i could frame that..”

“your back is so attractive to me, you’re so perfect.”

“can you keep your eyes on me? yeah, just like that.”

“atta girl, pose.”

NSFW ✦ HCS*

Photographer!Ellie who has explicit photos of you too. she always begs to do more sultry ones, the sight of you in such positions drives her crazy. mainly because she can have something to look at when you’re busy or away.

Photographer!Ellie who orders you around during said photoshoots. she likes it when she gets to decide things, considering she is such a neat freak. only in photography

“spread your legs further, sweetheart.”

“ah, ah, look up. i wanna see your face.”

“can you take it? should i put the camera away?”

“quit squirming, please. i can’t take the photo if you move.”

“yeah? do you like that? wanna show the camera how much you like it?”

Photographer!Ellie who has the most wild snapchat “my eyes only” section. it’s mainly you—no, all of it’s you. various photos from her fucking you in front of a mirror to just small clips of her fingering you. she loves to watch them over and over again.

Photographer!Ellie who will literally show you those videos while she fucks you if you’re being a brat.

“you see how good you were being last time? what happened, hm?”

“look at the way you squirted there, do you want me to make you do that again? stop giving me attitude and maybe i’ll make it worse for you.”

worse. worse meant better.

Photographer!Ellie (for the sub ellie enjoyers) who had a video of you eating her out too. she took it because she thought it would be hot. unfortunately, the sounds she made humiliated her. she couldn’t handle the teasing from you, so she disposed of it.

Photographer!Ellie who begs to please you, quite often. she acts so confident on video but beforehand she’s literally pleading on her knees—or maybe between your knees. of course you said yes, but making her wait was fun too.

“please, i don’t even want to video it. i just need to taste you.”

“baby, can i take ‘em off? please, i’ll make you feel so good.”

“i forgot you had these panties, they look so good with a wet spot on them. can i please touch you now?”

Photographer!Ellie who always gets sad when you’re in another state/country for modeling. how could you leave her so sad!—you couldn’t. while you knew she was at work, you’d send nudes. nothing while you were touching yourself or anything, usually just a mirror picture with one boob out or something like that. sneak peaks to only keep her half pleased. she lost her mind over this, blowing up your phone with compliments or scolding you.

Photographer!Ellie who has a video of you sucking her strap, who has a video of you in reverse cowgirl, who has a straight up pussy shot of her fingers sliding inside you, the list goes on and on. it’s such a big turn on for her and she definitely infected you with that.

Photographer!Ellie who can get impatient during photoshoots, sometimes you’re there all day. what’s an ovulating woman to do, wait? no. the answer was to call for a break and take you into the bathroom, then help herself there. she’d usually get off on your thigh as she fingered you, but scissoring was also a great choice. she’d have her hand clasped over your mouth, muffling any sounds you made.

“oh i know, baby. can you save your voice for later?”

“shh, shh, do you wanna get caught?”

Photographer!Ellie who has gotten off on your panties or an article of clothing you wore for a shoot. seeing you in that and being forced to take a photo without acting was a difficult task. she’d get home and steal it from the dirty clothes bin, you were always so tired after shoots so she never asked you for anything. that’s why she used your panties instead.

“hey, babe? wanna explain why my favorite pair of designer underwear has a dry sticky spot?”

“a sticky spot? that’s odd.”

“did you cum on my underwear?”

“your mind is playing tricks on you darling, i’d never.”

A/N i’m foaming at the mouth. #NEEDTHAT

tagsss!! @eriiwaii @valeisaslut @usuck @haithone

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: 10 fun facts about your future spouse

Hello and welcome to this new reading! I will tell you 10 fun facts about your partner/future spouse. I hope you all enjoy it!

FREE READING: a subscription to my Patreon before February 1st, no matter the tier, will give you a free question of choice. I updated the overall look of my patreon so feel free to look!

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Subliminal Channel > PATREON Masterlist [NEW]

The extended version (10 more fun facts) of this reading can be found on my Patreon, the link of which is here

~pick a card~

Pile 1:

1. They would love to draw you as their muse;

2. They enjoy shows that have incredibly dangerous and insane stunts (because why would you want to do that);

3. They can be very catty when it comes to their words if they’re annoyed; giving shade like a high-schooler;

4. They love their alcohol, but it has to be a specific kind;

5. They enjoy beautiful gardens and would love to have one to tend to themselves (but they aren’t good at it at all, you’ll probably be helping in the future);

6. Your future spouse loves thinking back to their high-school times with old friends, re-experiencing all of it;

7. Your future spouse is open to learning from mistakes and growing from past experiences;

8. Your future spouse would love to sleep in the forest with you sometimes; just you two, or your little family if you two have kids, in the forest with some fire and marshmallows on sticks;

9. They think a fun date in the future for the two of you would be picking fruits from trees;

10. They love acting as a joke; they have a whole alter-ego.

Extended reading

Pile 2:

1. Your future spouse enjoys driving cars a lot; they love the feeling it gives them;

2. They have a very small friend group (around 2 friends), but they’re so close they’re basically siblings;

3. Your future spouse has a tendency to let things go their way and just see what happens, even if preparing would’ve been a better idea;

4. Your future spouse will constantly giggle if they’re drunk;

5. They really enjoy cats, and most of guys their future spouse’s have had a cat when they were younger;

6. They find celebrating birthdays difficult and will act a bit ‘against’ it, but secretly they do enjoy it;

7. Your future spouse is good at imagining things (they prefer to imagine fantasy scenario’s);

8. Your future spouse loves being with friends and having a fun drink;

9. They will be causing mayhem to get a reaction out of you simply because they are bored;

10. They have a decent amount of influence on people; but they only really use it to fuck around and have fun.

Extended reading

Pile 3:

1. Your future spouse can enjoy a good book every once in a while;

2. They enjoy stargazing through windows something (they don’t prefer the outside often, given they get cold very quickly and dislike a ton of layers in order to do so);

3. They like circuses;

4. Your future spouse sometimes has nightmares, they’ve had this their whole lives. They have more then usual, and enough to be an issue in their lives;

5. Even though your future spouse will claim they’re not superstitious at all, they will always make a wish at a falling star;

6. Your future spouse loves to think about moral problems;

7. They would enjoy it to have a fish as a pet;

8. They’d like to sit in a dark forest alone and not do anything; they see the situation as something very peaceful and nice;

9. Your future spouse is very detail-oriented;

10. Your future spouse is often at the back near a wall at bigger gatherings, preferring to see everything instead of standing in the middle of it all.

Extended reading

[peachpitfics]

Cruel Summer

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!

Length: 2.1k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.

a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.

It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding.  In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.

“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.

“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.

“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.

“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.

“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.

“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.

“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.

Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.

There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.

“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.

“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.

“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.

“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.

If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.

Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.

“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.

“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.

“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.

“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.

“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.

Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.

“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.

 Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.

There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.

His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.

Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.

“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.

Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.

“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.

“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.

“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.

“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.

Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.

Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.

“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.

“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.

In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.

“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.

“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.

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

tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you'd like to be added to this tag list, please let me know!

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 18: Public sex

This is probably the shortest fic of the month. I wasn't give too many details, so it was left kinda bare and I didn't want it to turn into a gangbang.

Length 1.1k

Jo Yuri x Mreader

She looked out onto the street, licking her lips as she thought about what would await her. Jo Yuri had gotten into a pretty bad habit. It just excited her; she couldn’t help it, and she wouldn’t tell anyone what she was doing. The young woman raised her hand as she saw a cab making its way over. It stopped just in front of her and the backseat door on its own. Yuri stepped inside the cab, excited that she had found one so quickly. “Where are you going, Miss?”

“Home,” Yuri replies, giving the details of her apartment building. You pull off and onto the street, starting the taxi’s meter.

Yuri tapped her feet against the car floor, waiting for the taxi driver to reach her destination. She moved her hand under her skirt, grazing her clit. She bites her lip, quieting her moans. You turn your head. “Is everything alright, miss?” 

Yuri nods, “Yeah, everything’s fine.” She mumbles, continuing to tease herself as you continue the drive. You arrive at her home and check the meter, telling her the price. Yuri smiles at you and looks through her purse; she doesn’t have any money in there. She never does; Yuri knows other ways she can pay.  She continues to look for a few more seconds before finally giving up. “It looks like I lost my wallet. Is there any other way I can pay you?” She asks, leaning forward to reveal her cleavage. You pause and look at the young woman through the mirror. The look in her eyes told you everything you needed. You inch the car forward, heading down a small side street right next to the building. Yuri smiled, excitement growing inside her. 

You shut off the taxi camera and the meter before looking at the woman. “There is another way; you could pay with your body.”

Yuri’s lips curl into a smile, “Thank you. Where should we start? Nothing is off limits; you can use me as much as you want…until I’ve paid the amount.” Yuri imagined what you would do to her; she was getting wetter the longer she thought about it.

You press the button on your controls to open her door. Yuri glances at the open door, then back to you, watching as you step out of the car. She focuses on your movements, noticing you’re pulling something out. The young woman turns to the door. You surprise her by having your cock out and ready for her. “Oh, wow,” Yuri says, grabbing your shaft. She moves her hand along it, smiling. “This is just how I like them,” she says softly.

Yuri moves in, swallowing the head of your cock and bobbing her head quickly. She moves her hand under her dress and pushes her fingers inside her cunt. Being out in public was what turned her on the most; anyone could see what was going on. The only thing keeping that from happening was the lack of people out at this hour. You drive your cock down the young woman’s throat, reveling in the pleasure your feel from it tightening around you. You didn’t want to cum down her throat, though; as good as it would’ve felt to do that or cum on her face, you wanted her pussy. You needed to focus and hurry up; there was more money to be made at this time. You pulled your cock out of Yuri's throat, leaving her gasping for air as you pulled her to her feet and lowered the window to her door. You wanted people to see her.

You pushed Yuri through the open window, lifted her dress, grabbed your cock, and rammed it into her tight cunt. Yuri’s tongue wagged in the air as she felt your cock inside her. She moaned loudly, not caring if anyone could hear her. She wanted them to know she was getting fucked. As you slam yourself into her cunt you smack the young woman’s ass, marking her body. You reach up and grope her breasts, roughly squeezing them. Yuri groaned, smiling as she felt your cock move deeper into her. You were pushing her against the door, wanting every inch inside her tight cunt.

“Fuck, yes, harder!” Yuri shouts, pushing her ass against you. You grab her waist and ram yourself into her with reckless abandon, uncaring if anyone spotted you. Yuri's moans did attract attention, though. A stranger came through the side street and spotted you fucking the young woman. Yuri noticed them first and beckoned them over; another cock was just the thing she wanted. You pull Yuri from the window, letting the stranger get at her. Yuri reaches for his pants, fishing his cock out and putting taking it into her mouth. You’re surprised at what she’s capable of, but it was clear now that she was cock hungry. You thrust into Yuri with more strength, letting her body jerk forward and making her take in more of the stranger's cock. He begins thrusting, too, sending Yuri back and forth between your bodies. Yuri’s muffled groans fuel your lust, and you speed up. You feel your orgasm coming but continue at your pace, determined to ruin the young woman.

Yuri’s moans climb in pitch as you push her closer to her climax. She could feel a tightness in her core; the situation was pushing her to another place, and her body was desperate for a release. Her walls tightened around your cock, and her body tensed in your grip. 

You drove your cock deep inside her before pouring your load into her cunt. Yuri shudders as she feels your semen pour into her. She moans loudly. It would’ve been louder had her mouth not been stuffed by the stranger’s cock. You keep yourself inside the young woman, enjoying the way her walls milked your cock while you could. The noise she had made attracted more attention, both men and women this time. They began to crowd around Yuri; the young woman watched as the men pulled out their cock, and the women began to touch themselves. The stranger that was fucking her mouth came as the attention shifted to him; he pulled out and shot his load on Yuri’s face. She stuck her tongue out, trying to catch as much as she could. He turned the young woman around, wanting his turn with her cunt. He wanted to claim it before the crowd really got to her.

You left the young woman alone with the crowd, needing to finish your shift. It wasn’t like Yuri minded anyway; with all the cocks around her in need of milking, she was more than happy. You drove away, looking in the rearview mirror as Yuri was stuffed with more cock and hands wandered her body. She finished the night, wobbling into the apartment building, her clothes torn and cum running down her thighs.

[binomech]

some opinions on fanfic trends for Disco Elysium on AO3 for the past 2-ish years; i address racism, ableism, jean and kim tropes, accesorization of harry and the way the game themes appear to have warped.

some of you may know i've been reading every fic published on the disco AO3 tag chronologically since 2019 for a little over a year and jotting down some trends (not a proper statistical study, just some tracking of when certain tropes are introduced and when and how they reproduce because i like observing that kind of thing.) there's been an uptick in trans(masc) Kim and Jean character studies since late 2022-early 2023, among many others, but these ones were like overwhelmingly prolific once they were introduced.

harry, kim and jean are overwhelmingly the characters with most fanworks in the tag. and having read a little over 4k works it turns out that people engage in a very distinct way with them for the most part that tracks with the growth of the trans Kim and Jean character studies as a trend.

the disco elysium fandom's english-language writers are, according to my cursory snooping, overwhelmingly trans, some flavor of gay, white and from north america and western europe. given personal anecdotes, i also suspect they are upper middle class (though not as statistically huge as the previous things) and struggle with mental health. in the past decade or so a lot of fanworks have followed a trend of exploration focused on catharsis and personal relatability.

now, kim and harry appear so much in the text with so much detail that there's plenty of personal details to pull from to write them, where as jean's total presence in the game (rarely achieved in one run but i'm taking into account all his mentions and lines) is smaller so it follows that people need to fill in some gaps and there's more characterization freedom. jean is white, younger than both harry and kim, canonically depressed, non-canonically confirmed by his character player an amphetamine addict but presented as a functional person during the game, and covers a very specific narrative hinge that i understand as relevant: he's a bridge between pre-Martinaise Harry and his Martinaise self.

he's objectively a very comfortable character to play with because he's mostly a blank slate except for his relation to Harry and his vitriolic grief towards him. so logistically i understand why people who struggle with mental health, are white, are anywhere between 17 and 35, are functional and able-bodied and may or may not have a complicated relationship with a close person who struggles with addiction or other health issues might go "YES, GOOD CATHARSIS NARRATIVE FOR ME". but the sheer amount of works that value Relatability over engaging with the characters or the themes has resulted in a very strong ripple. which leads to trans kim.

the game paints a deep and vivid image of kim, both from within harry's own perspectives and the objective things he says out loud. he's a walking contradiction, he's alienated from his body and selfhood, he beat himself into submission to stay alive. he's a walking reminder of his assasinated communist parents, the people who killed them paid his salary, his body (racialized, disabled) is both a hindrance to his assimilation and a tangible proof that he could have belonged somewhere but doesn't, that no matter what he does it will be considered first. so he watches his words, his movements, his appearance. so he partakes in hypermasculinity. he's canonically gay, mixed race, diasporic seolite, and disabled. and somehow, the only one of this that is recurringly explored in most fanworks is his homosexuality, usually in the form of being a guiding figure to harry or as a Fellow Gay Cop to jean, or eyes, or someone else.

now, we have the trans kim trope. my opinion on the trope isn't relevant to the point i'm trying to make, but i will say i think transmasc kim is something i enjoy in theory, i think it's a worthy exploration that works very well with the hauntings of embodiment and perception that exist in kim's canon self. but it's very jarring when all of these tales of gay trans kim refuse to engage with race, or with physical disability. like, after you've read 800 trans kim fics you start noticing how solid that avoidance is, how big the elephant in the room is, and i can't help but think that, coupled with the explorations of Jean, the issue is: the white ablebodied writer is unwilling to engage with race and disability.

my charitable reading of this is that the white ablebodied writer doesn't want to write about what they don't know, they don't want to overstep. my neutral reading of this is that the white ablebodied writer doesn't consider how sexuality and gender's material realities are tied to race and ablebodiedness in the real world because they are the Default Categories and it didn't occur to them that kim's experience of them might overlap. my least charitable reading of this without directly falling into the assumption of ill intent is that the white ablebodied writer is uncomfortable with the idea of the fact that their experience of gender and sexuality isn't universal and it's not as emotionally cathartic to think about how they might be racist and ableist because they put on horse blinders and they're trying to write things they like, and understanding this is unpleasant and doesn't belong in their feel-good hobbies.

people love to talk about kim's body without acknowledging the way asian masculinity and femininity exist in relation to whiteness when it's harry or jean in the room. people love to talk about kim's body without engaging with the power relations that exist in many disabled people's sexuality.

the tropes' strength lies in the relatability factor (very high) and the willingness of both author and audience to engage with the canon material for the characters they are writing (very low). and so you end up with a lot of jean character studies about his feelings towards harry (when everyone but kim in the game also knows both harries, but jean is prioritized consistently) and a lot of character studies about kim (that ignore most of the lived experiences of him because they're directly tied to his and his parents' race and alienation that are not particularly cathartic for the white author and reader)

one of the big themes of the game, if not the biggest, is failure. specifically it asks the player to think about what to do when you have failed and you know there are no blank slates, and asks you to empathize not only with harry, whose every thought you're privy to, but to everyone you talk to that has the same rich landscape beyond your brief interaction. when relatability is prioritized in fanworks, this question falls apart, the purpose becomes to find ways in which these characters are like you (the author, the reader) so you can afford them the level of humanity needed to feel emotions about them.

harry's tropification follows four large trends: self-loathing, aggressive addict, psychic omniscient prophet, overwhelmingly emotional and adoring puppy. some authors sometimes are capable of depicting both, usually as if they are unrelated and it's a harry-esque contradiction, but it's truly baffling how rare it is to find stories that engage with all of them or with multiple of them as inextricably bound together like canon material does. harry needs to be relatably lovable (heartbroken, self-loathing, fixable by love, fixable by the universe, capable of change that gets exponentially better) or relatably hateable (physically and emotionally abusive, manipulative, unreasonably needy).

most fics in the relatable lovability fall on the kim/harry ship, most fics in the relatable hateability fall on the jean/harry ship. here's where it ties into the big tropes for kim and jean: the fanworks about a game that asks a question about failure and questioning certainty become stories about inevitability.

jean's vitriol in the game comes from the same place as harry's self loathing: a visceral response to decades of failure. they're not objective truths (i'm thinking about the mirror reveal being intended as a way to make the viewer realize harry isn't a reliable narrator at all, but especially about himself: you see a regular guy, conventionally handsome but clearly in pain and growing old and sick. he calls himself horrible shit, however).

playing up jean's part as the Bridge is comfortable because it allows the player to separate Harry's failures from their agency as a player (something that greatly drives the point of the game home, emotionally speaking -- you're not that different from Harry. Harry's not that different from anyone else he meets. the irreversible failures exist for all of us, as do the chances to try again.) if jean is right in resenting harry, and moreover, he's objectively describing harry's behavior, harry's failures become logical and inevitable consequences of his Way of Being. if Harry calls kim a slur, or threatens children, or scares civilians, that's just because that's how Harry is (according to Jean and Harry's own brain), so the possibility that one of your tries might be meaningfully good becomes... less weighty. it's a fluke, and you'll fail again, so don't get your hopes up. it's almost an excuse to believe that there's nothing new under the sun and going back to old habits is inevitable, but the conclusion becomes "so nothing i do really matters" instead of "it's hard and painful to try again when you've failed so many times before. what does this say about the person who tries?". and in that way jean is an interesting character because understanding why he resents harry for being able to try more freely than him without the weight of memory is important to the theme. what has to click to start climbing out of the grave? can anyone do it? will i ever do it? why now, and why not when i tried to pull him out?

and similarly, when we write about kim, we have to confront what makes him who he is and not another generic character to write, and the fact of the matter is that being a cop, being visibly of seolite heritage, having PTSD, having a visual impairment on record that interferes with his cophood, his cophood being the only identity he appears to have had a choice over, how he treats harry because he's a cop vs. other harry parallels who aren't, how he treats harry whether harry respects him or not... they're important. and trans kim could be a way to approach these themes but it's currently existing in a vacuum of authorial catharsis, and the refusal to address the real politics that give emotional weight to disco elysium is becoming a worrying, overwhelming trend. i urge you all to think about these things a little.

[yuons]

ᯓ million dollar — ot7

syn when the members spend their (unlimited) money on you. (1770 words)

pairs richboy!members + reader | cw mentions of money petnames — mlist navi

notes richboy members are having a chokehold on me lately

LEE HEESEUNG

“take as much time as you want, love”

earlier that day, you were scouring your closet for a decent dress. flipping through the same five for the past hour.

your boyfriend, grumbling about how you should get back to bed, watched as you pick up the same clothes. his eyes never leaving your figure, staring up at you through the mirror you were using to look at the picks.

heeseung slowly got up and hugged you from behind, burying his head on your neck. kissing your shoulder blades up to the back of your ear.

“do you need a new dress, love?”

after very few talking from heeseung and much more complaints from you, he somehow convinced you to get ready.

and that is how you’ve ended up in one of the famous streets in your city. lined up with the prettiest boutiques and malls.

heeseung wrapped his hands around yours and walked to a favorite store of yours. remembering how you’ve ever mentioned how badly you wanted to go back and buy something from it, months ago.

walking in, your small pout turned into the biggest, heart-pounding grin he’s ever seen. he bit his lip containing his own smile and dug out his wallet.

“spend it all on anything you want, baby”

PARK JONGSEONG

as a musician, looking at instruments is like strolling through heaven. admiring all the small intricate details engraved.

jay loved his guitars like it was his own child, he understands what it’s like to spend thousand and even more on just a single guitar. not that it would do anything to his bank.

you’ve never really asked jay for anything for as long as you’ve been dating. rather using your own money to buy whatever you want than letting your boyfriend buy it for you.

it wasn’t like jay didn’t want you to buy things using his card, he actually offers it most times than not. it was you who never lets him buy anything for you.

“use my card to buy the groceries, babe”

you refused to take his card whenever you could. because of this, jay has learned to pay without you knowing. usually when your back is turned or when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

right now, your boyfriend is tagging along with you as you browse through the island of pianos; ranging from yamaha to bluthner.

you stopped abruptly as your eyes fell on a piano that had you immediately captivated, from the design of the lid to the shape of the pedals, you thought it was the most beautiful piano you’ve ever seen.

when you were admiring the piano, trying out the keys and sitting on the soft cushion of the chair. you failed to realize your boyfriend had silently called the seller and slid his card. smiling down at your frowning figure.

“it’ll arrive by tomorrow morning, love”

SIM JAEYUN

“but you look so good in these, babe”

opening your apartment door with a click, the lights turned on to greet you with the copious amounts of packages laid on your living room.

the packages were of different sizes and stacked side by side. what’s worse is that you can’t remember buying all of the things you did, having to open up each package to know what and when you bought them.

you called up your boyfriend, who had brought in all of your packages earlier in the day when he paid a visit to your unit to pick up a small bag you forgot to bring.

“i seriously need to go on a ban”

“no you don’t baby, besides, you use my card when you buy anything” jake says, laying his head atop yours as he turned on a movie an hour ago to stop your fussing.

“that’s not the point, jake. i need to stop buying random things online. i can’t keep flooding my bedroom” you sigh.

“then just put the things you don’t like anymore in my apartment, you’ll have more space that way” jake smiles down at you, kissing your temples.

that was one week ago. somehow, he had convinced you to ‘accompany’ him on a late night rendezvous to prada. it was all fine at first when he was just looking at the suits. but now, he’s trying to convince you to buy two pairs of their new summer series glasses.

“i can buy this next time, babe” you finally say, sighing, after letting him talk about all the new luxury pieces of the summer set, desperately trying to talk his way into letting him buy you one.

“oh” he trails off, a sheepish grin creeping up on his face “about that, i’ve already paid”

PARK SUNGHOON

as a person who always loved the mountains, you find yourself spending weekends driving up one usually catching the sunset. this was already a routine even before you met sunghoon.

and now, you still kept up that routine whenever you weren’t too busy, your boyfriend always opting to tag along despite his complaints about being too tired. he wouldn’t actually pass up an opportunity to be with you.

you always loved traveling, within the city and during long holidays, out. liking the feeling of driving past the roads and seeing the scenery once the mountains come into view.

when sunghoon found out about this interest of yours, he started searching up for places with the most beautiful mountain sceneries. over the past years, he’s taken you to numerous countrysides and mountaintops inside and outside of the country.

even when you say it was fine if you were to only travel within the country, he loves seeing the way your eyes widen adorably during a gorgeous sunset that would rarely happen in-country. that’s why, the moment he tracks down a specific date that you both were going to be free for at least three days, sunghoon would immediately book a ticket to whatever country he’s been searching up.

on a random afternoon, sunghoon knocks on your bedroom door, walking in your apartment. as you open the door, there he stood with a big suitcase and that sweet smile of his.

“better pack up now, baby. we’re leaving in a few hours”

KIM SUNOO

sunoo knows you more than you know yourself, he’s quick to learn your body language and certain expressions you make.

it’s really hard to lie to him when he knows how to poke at you the right way to make you open up about your worries.

sometimes he just lets you have it, he knows you would at one point tell him about the things you’re going through. he trusts you on that.

but at times, he knows when you need a bit more of a cheer up. sunoo loves spending his money on you, buying you clothes, makeup, accessories. one of the things he realizes is that you love wearing jewelry. finishing up an outfit by adding a necklace or bracelets along your arm. that conveniently also accentuates your features.

he spends alot of time with you picking out sets for outfits you were going to wear for upcoming events. jewelry, he realizes is one of the things that can easily cheer you up, besides himself, of course.

so as the sweet boyfriend he is, sunoo dragged you to the jewelry store despite your sulks. and the moment your eyes laid on the glittering pearls, all of your problems seem to dissipate. just like how your boyfriend had expected.

with a giggle, sunoo starts asking the seller to bring out the full set for you to try on. patting you on the head as you continue to stare at the long rows of necklaces.

“buy whatever you want, okay? after this we can cuddle for as long as you need”

YANG JUNGWON

he would remember everything you’ve ever said to him. you like sweets? he remembers. you like flowery perfume? he remembers. you like that one specific lipstick brand that’s best bought in singapore? he remembers.

it’s not odd to get home to a bunch off boxes filled with gifts and food and random things whenever jungwon’s just went home from a trip anywhere.

anything you’ve said even before you two were dating seems to be engraved in his head like muscle memory. he can be strolling through a street market in japan and a small store would catch his eye, the next moment you would find his hands filled with keychains of a cartoon character you said you liked years ago.

his job requires him to fly countries often and it used to be a problem for you both as it means you can’t really meet him as much. but after years, both you and jungwon still communicate alot. him usually asking to facetime you at random hours of the day or night and sending you pictures of what he was doing.

both of you readjusted quite well to this arrangement and thankfully his work doesn’t demand a long period of time during those trips.

“babe there’s no way i can finish all of this by myself” you laugh seeing all of the things he bought you.

“then we can finish them together” he says, dimples peeking out through the smile “that way i can come by more often”

NISHIMURA RIKI

as days start to get more busy, you and your boyfriend find yourselves going on a short getaway to the outskirts of the city.

he showed up at your apartment one night and pulled you out of it with no explanation. you weren’t going to question him though, letting him take you wherever.

you both ended up on a train station, waiting for the last train to arrive. about an hour later, you landed on a small, but really nice accommodation.

the moment you stepped in the room, riki launched himself on the bed sighing in content.

“i want to live here forever” he mumbles out against one of the pillows.

“we both still have school tomorrow” you sat on the bed beside him, opening up your phone to continue the essay you were working on. only for it to be tackled down a second later, your boyfriend pulling you to lay down beside him.

silence filled the room, only yours and your boyfriend’s soft breathing. riki mumbled something against your hair. you hummed in question.

“let’s get room service” he says. you knew it was going to happen, it always happened. but here you are, sat on the hotel chair with too much food both of you know you can’t finish. he had a habit of buying you whatever he thought you’d like and it wasn’t like he’s wrong. the bowls of food on the table are all your favorites and you don’t even know where to start.

he really doesn’t spend much on things, but he loves going on little getaways with you every once in a while. sleeping on the comfiest beds (besides his or yours) and eating room service. something about it just brings a peaceful kind of silence for him.

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[pia-nor481]

The Assistant- Chapter One

Lando Norris x Reader

Zak is tired of Lando’s behaviour and hirers him a personal assistant, whom he finds a little too attractive to be working with. What she didn’t know, was how hard he would make the job.

2.4k words

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

This wasn't exactly her dream job, sure she loved being around motorsports, but she would have loved to work with the team, not for one of the drivers. Originally she had applied online, not even sure she would get the job, but now as she was slipping her heels on reality had hit her. Zak Brown, CEO of Mclaren Formula One team had employed her to be an assistant; She assumed she would have been working for him as no other name was mentioned in either of her interviews, but she assumed very wrong. 

"So you'll be working with Lando. Making sure he's where he needs to be and has everything he needs. Pretty much doing whatever he asks." She struggled to keep up with Zak's fast pace with the folders in her hands as he guided her through the MTC. "Your desk is right here and Lando's is right over there." He pointed as he spoke, making sure she had everything she needed before she officially started. Zak walked into Lando's office with a face of disappointment, she didn't know the details and quite frankly didn't want to. With Zak gone she could finally take a breath, placing her belongings on the rather large desk. One small perk about working for Lando and not Mclaren was she could essentially wear whatever she pleased. She sat down and opened the provided laptop, checking what she could only imagine to be the busiest schedule she would ever see. After deciding she would deal with that a little later she looked around the room fully, noticing there was only four other desks in this area, the rest in offices with names printed on the doors. The desk given to her was the largest in the room, with very little on top of it; A phone, calculator, notebook, pens and a file organiser. She looked to the left and noticed next year's racing calendar. She made a mental note to bring some thing from home to brighten up the area, perhaps make it look more humane. 

"Are you serious Zak, another one?" She heard Lando's voice through the open door of his office. "Don't behave like a child. Oscar has an assistant who he gets on well with. But you need one. You're late to almost every meeting if you even turn up and you never have your equipment or uniform. It's unacceptable and so I'm doing something about it. Her pay isn't even coming out of your bank account so be grateful for that." Zak muttered, almost dragging Lando out of the room with a small scowl on his face. "This is Lando." Zak said with a small smile after introducing her. She offered her hand before speaking, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lando." He quickly shook her hand but didn't say anything, waiting for Zak to leave for his office. Now she could see why the pay was so high. He was slightly insufferable and considerably rude. 

Lando turned his back to her as he spoke, "Go get me a coffee would you." He grumbled walking back towards his office. She was shocked at the gumption to start with and then realised that she was being paid significantly more than what the base rate was for scheduling appointments. So really she just didn't feel the need to complain. She walked towards the unnecessarily large kitchen for that floor and looked through the cupboards, only finding instant coffee granules and shaking her head slightly. She knew first hand from working office jobs that instant coffee was one of the worst drinks in the world. She grabbed the largest mug from the shelf and placed two teaspoons of the coffee inside, followed by a pinch of salt as it would take the bitterness away. She poured a small amount of cold water into the mug before adding the hot water most of the way up, so she didn't burn the coffee. Finally she added some milk and gave it a good stir. Pleased with herself she walked back to his office as quick as she could. 

"Here." She almost whispered, placing the mug on his unusually tidy desk, which let her know he was almost never here or he never did any work. She had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter. "Took you long enough." Lando muttered looking up at her as he took a sip of the drink, a look of disgust painting his face. "That's awful. How do you mess up making coffee?" His question was rhetorical but it still hurt. She was sure it was the best one could make with such limited supplies. Or maybe he just didn't like coffee at all and was giving her a hard time. "You only have my work schedule, right?" He looked ack up at her, hands crossed in his lap. "Right?" Lando repeated, annoyance lacing his voice. She knew she shouldn't have been so easily upset, but disrespect being the first thing you hear from someone was always hurtful. "Yes." She whispered, not lifting her gaze from the ground, worried he'd see the look on her face. "Well, here's my personal schedule, sync it up for me." He said waving his hand towards the door. She took the paper from his hand with a small thank you and left to do as she was asked. Soon she was sat at the desk with glossy eyes questioning her decisions. Maybe applying for the job was a mistake, but she needed the money. 

He had a meeting about the new car at 6am tomorrow, a quadrant photoshoot at 10am for the new merch line but the manufacturer needed to be called tonight to ensure the clothes were ready to be mass produced for the release next month, then at 12pm they were filming a karting video that he needed to bring his helmet and quadrant racing suit for, at 4pm he need to pick up dry cleaning for a dinner he had at 7pm. She wasn't sure it was possible for one person to be so busy. She was quick to write down the necessary numbers and times on a post it notes before sticking all seven of them to the black wall above the desk. She wrote a small reminder to ensure Lando was wearing proper Mclaren uniform for the meeting, hoping it would ease Zak slightly. 

Her first call was to the manufacturing company and it lasted over two hours, most of it being arguing about shipping dates and production location. She needed to have the shortest delivery time possible considering the date for the release and it was causing her to panic. Lando didn't seem to have a lot of patience and he also seemed like the kind of man to yell if he wasn't happy with something, so she felt as though she couldn't afford to get this wrong. After another twenty minutes, and two pages of A4 paper later, the merch was set to be shipped to them one week before it was due to be sold. A small sigh escaped her as she took the first post it down. She then began working on 'merging' the two schedules, which she was sure he made it harder by giving her a paper copy, so she had to add things one by one. After a while, all of which was spent adding doctors appointments and training sessions to his calendar, she made way back to the kitchen reaching for another mug, making a coffee for herself just as she did before. She hesitated taking a sip, questioning herself. Was the drink actually that bad or maybe he was just testing her resolve. Quickly she snapped out of the small haze and rushed back to her desk, noticing Lando was no longer in his office.

Her eyes began to sting slightly as she continued to look at the screen, worried she wouldn't get all the work done in time. She made a small note to herself to pick up some eye drops before she went home, not wanting to repeat the feeling tomorrow. As she picked up her phone to set an alarm she noticed the time, 4am. She had been working for way too long, longer than she was required too. But the tasks set needed to be completed, she couldn't let herself fall behind, the money was too good to ever let that happen. While rushing to her car she began to question her actions completely. Why did she think this was even a good job? Running around after people was not her specialty. Yet she continued on. She was a person that liked to be relatively prepared and always kept spare clothes in the car, perhaps not for this occasion, but she was thankful to her past self none the less. She knew there were showers in the building as the drivers and pit crew often had to train in the building, so that wouldn't have been an issue. After making what could be considered a subpar coffee she called Lando on her personal phone, although it required two calls before he surprised her by answering. 

"Who is this?" He groaned down the line. She didn't expect his voice to be so low, then again she most definitely woke him up. "Your assistant, who needs you to wear your team uniform for the 6 am meeting today, which for your information, you need to leave for in about seven minutes." She said sweetly, knowing being yelled at as soon as you wake up isn't particularly pleasant, so the last thing she needed was him coming to work in a bad mood. "Yeah, okay. I'll be there." He said before ending the call. She shouldn't have felt her face warming as he spoke, hearing his morning voice shouldn't be turning her on as much as it was. His poor attitude had fizzled away in the late evening and the early morning, he was of course still mean for ending the call in such away, but his words were not as offensive. 

She expected him to come to work in what he pleased so she hurried to the store room to look for anything even in his size. The door was heavy and the room was dark but she managed to find a papaya shirt and a few pairs of trousers that looked close enough to fitting. She walked  back towards his office, with her signature office coffee in hand and placed everything on his desk, waiting for Lando to grace her with his presence. She retrieved her note book and pen off her desk before sitting in one of his chairs. "Some assistant she is. Telling me I need to be here, yet she's no where to be found." He grumbled, running his hands through his hair. As Lando walked through the threshold of the office he noticed her sat eagerly a small, but clearly fake, smile on her face. "You need to get dressed before we leave, the meeting starts in ten minutes and you have plenty to do today." She stated, brushing off his earlier statement, even if it brought a slight pain to her chest. Lando walked behind the desk and noticed, not just the hot drink awaiting him, but a few printed forms that he needed to sign, all with a small post it explaining in less than ten words what it was for. She walked towards the door and closed it, facing the opposite direction from the desk. "I need to ensure that you actually look presentable, but trust me I'm not looking." She said with a small huff, crossing her arms over her chest. "How do I know you're not actually some crazy fan?" He questioned, pulling his blue shirt over his head, quickly replacing it with the uniform. "My phone is on the desk and if I was some crazy fan I would probably already be in your house considering a I know you're address." She stated like it was the simplest thing in the world. "You can turn around now." Lando said, annoyance once again lacing his voice. "Oh, you're hair is a mess." She walked over to the brit quickly, reaching over to adjust the curls. "What are you doing?" His jaw clenched slightly as her fingers threaded through his hair. "Don't complain, I'm making sure you look presentable. Zak will be grateful considering there are some sponsors in this meeting." 

She pulled away from him and walked away, happy that he followed. "Don't do that again." His tone was almost malicious before they reached the board room, sitting down quietly. Zak quickly began thanking everyone for showing up before he started talking about how this years car would be better than the previous years. As she looked towards Lando, she noticed his head was down, most likely on his phone. A small amount of anger rose up through her. The gall. He works for this company, the words said would be greatly important to him, yet he wasn't even listening. It was disgraceful. She made sure to write down as many notes as possible, at least about what she assumed to be the most important parts since she didn't really know what was being said. The mechanics of formula one cars was not her speciality so it was a little hard to distinguish what was needed and what wasn't. 

"Thank you all for coming, any further questions please email." Zak said with a pleasant smile. She zoned out for a while, focusing on writing down the last few sentences. "Hey, are you even listening to me." Lando raised his voice slightly, shaking her shoulders. "You said I had to be somewhere at ten. So...get up." He almost pulled her out of the chair as she grabbed her things. "You have a photoshoot for the new Quadrant merch. The rest of the product is being delivered one week before sales go live." She almost muttered as he pushed her out of the door. 

"Well you're coming with me."

[fastandcarlos]

Home For The Summer : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: travelling around the world with max is one of your favourite things to do, however none of it compares to home. even though you can't afford to make it there, someone else might just

Your eyes were sceptical as soon as Max walked into your office, a smile of mischief on his face that captured your attention. He loitered around the room, with his hands behind his back, very obviously letting you know that he was hiding something from you behind your back. 

Max took a seat just beside you, looking over your desk to see what it was that you were doing, with your books open once again swatting up on some last-minute revision before Max’s summer break started. 

He was struggling to contain himself beside you, he was beyond excited as his hands came from behind his back, resting in his lap with a white envelope being held tightly in his hands. 

“I’ve got something for you,” Max proudly informed you. 

Your eyes narrowed down on his hands, “what’s going on?” You questioned, becoming increasingly concerned about what mayhem Max was causing. 

Max’s smile grew wider and wider, bouncing on his toes. “If there was one place in the world you could go during the summer break, where do you think you’d go?” Max asked you, only making you more intrigued as to what was going on. 

“That’s an easy question,” you chuckled in reply to him, “the only place that I’d ever want to go is home, it’s been ages since I last got to visit.” 

Despite all the travelling that you did, home was a destination you very rarely visited. With your studies still ongoing you were scraping the bottom of the barrel for any money that you could find, refusing any of Max’s help whenever he offered it to you. Unfortunately for you though, flights were expensive, and you were going to have to work a lot harder in order to raise the funds to get yourself there. 

“I mean, I’d be happy anywhere if it meant time with you,” you corrected. 

“But home is the spot,” Max replied, knowing exactly what you wanted, despite how nice you wanted to sound with your second response. 

Your head slowly nodded as Max held his hand out to you, encouraging you to take the envelope from his hold. It was sealed tightly shut, leaving you incredibly interested as to what Max had up his sleeve. 

“I got you a little something, a little treat for the summer,” Max told you as your finger slid underneath the tear of the envelope, ripping it open so that you could reach inside. 

You pulled out a piece of folded paper, unfolding it and watching a ticket fall into your lap. You picked it up and twirled it around, looking straight at Max with furrowed brows as you tried to work out what exactly he was giving you a ticket for. 

“Read it,” Max whispered, watching as your eyes scanned it over to try and figure things out for yourself. 

“Where are we flying too?” 

Max chuckled as you continued to scan it, letting go of a gasp as you finally read the details of the ticket. “I thought that might be a destination that you’d be interested in visiting.” 

“Is this for real? You’re not playing a joke on me, right?” 

“No, I’d never do anything like that to you love.” 

Your fingertips brushed over the departure and arrival, struggling to let it sink in. You were off out of Nice in a couple of days, arriving in your favourite place in the world just a few hours later. Max’s smile was wide as he watched the realisation hit you, Max had given you the chance to finally get yourself home. 

You carefully placed the ticket down before glancing across at Max in disbelief. “You’ve supported me so much after the past four months, I wanted to do something to say thank you for all that you’ve done for me.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, “this is huge Max, the flights to get home aren’t cheap.” 

The money didn’t matter to him, he’d would’ve paid everything that he had and it would have been worth it for the smile on your face. There was no price Max could put on the amount of comfort he felt from having you there cheering him on time and time again. 

“It’s yours, and there’s another one too, so you can pick someone to take with you,” he teased. 

Your eyes rolled as he innocently shrugged back at you. “Obviously I’m going to take you with me, there’s no one else I want to take home other than you.” 

“I didn’t want to assume,” Max grinned as you shuffled across and sat yourself down in Max’s lap. “These are a thank you from me, because without you I wouldn’t be having such a successful season.” 

“I do all that because I love you,” you reminded him, “not because I expect any of this from you.” 

“I know you do.” 

Your head was still shaking in disbelief, finding yourself getting excited every time you thought about home. The people you could see, the places you could go, all the things that you had missed for so long. 

“Does everyone back at home know that we’re visiting?” You asked Max, squealing loudly when his head shook, keen to surprise them like he had done you. 

He’d seen enough videos online of reunions that he wanted you to have one of your own. He’d listened to many of your phone calls with your family and heard just how much they missed you time and time again, desperate to do something about it. 

“I take it that as surprises go, this is a pretty good one then?” 

Your head nodded back at Max straight away. “It’s beyond good, I could never have imagined that I’d receive such an amazing surprise.” 

“I should probably leave you to study as you won’t be able to take all of that back home with you.” 

You remained still as Max tried to stand, deciding that studying could wait for another day. All you wanted to do was shower Max and show him how thankful you were, with as much excitement as you had, you knew that you would never be able to concentrate anymore anyway. 

Max had a feeling you’d stay in his lap anyway, savouring the feeling of your hold around him and the sensation of your lips pressing several kisses against his cheek to let Max know just how thankful you were. 

“I can’t wait to show you my home,” you whispered against his cheek. 

Max hummed in response, “I can’t wait to see all of the amazing places you grew up, all those stories you’ve told me and I’ll finally get to see those spots.” 

“I’m finally going home.” 

“Yes you are,” Max grinned, the disbelief still clear in your voice. “And I promise that I’m going to make sure that you have the best time at home too.” 

Your smile was wide back at Max, “the fact that I’m getting to go home with you already makes it the best trip ever.” 

“I’m glad you’re excited,” Max mused, “I love you, you know that right?” 

“I do, and I love you too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[ikeuverse]

criminal love | psh

pairing: killer!sunghoon x rich!fem!reader genres: angst, smut, maybe fluff wc: 4.6k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : weapons, drink, drugs, swearing. mention and execution of murder, blood, fights (physical and verbal). unprotected sex (the details of the sex parts i'll add as i post the chapters), but there are more than two, for sure. lmk if i forgot anything else.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : paid to kill people, sunghoon finds himself in the biggest dilemma of his life. getting paid the most money his profession has ever given him to kill a woman. but he can't do it because it goes beyond his principles, who has never laid a finger on a woman. what will he do when the twist is right in front of his eyes?

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : i had this initial idea for jay, but i don't know why i thought i'd write it for sunghoon. i've modified a few things and i'm thinking of making it a story with a few chapters. i hope you like it!

TAGLIST: i don't know if i'll do it, but…

꒰ 𝅄 masterlist | prologue | part 1 | part 2 [...] ꒱

None of this was new to Park Sunghoon. The eyes stared at him in fear, shining with a pair of panicked features as they begged for their lives. His index finger against the trigger of the gun before he asked to speak his last words and then fired. Seeing the body slowly collapse in front of you, the eyes losing life and the blood dripping through the fabric of the clothes and onto the floor. This was a very familiar scenario, even more so as a hitman.

If anyone ever asked him why he lived this life, the answer would come quickly: easy money.

Sunghoon got used to being on the streets in search of a job to maintain his almost miserable life after the death of his parents. His grandfather, an alcoholic who barely stayed at home, was the only living relative he had. And the only person who could give him a roof over his head at fifteen.

Wandering the streets in search of something solid led Sunghoon to meet all sorts of people and ways of making ends meet. He worked with a bit of everything until he found the job he had settled into today. It was through Jake, one of the first people he befriended, that he learned what it was like to kill for money. His friend's father had a scheme and paid him well enough to eat, dress, and live in his grandfather's house, which he barely saw.

Jake and his father became a family to Sunghoon, even if it was in the worst of environments, but it was the only thing he could get close to that bordered on a good feeling. The boy couldn't call it love because he'd never heard it from any of his friends, although they could say that they respected and cared for each other, but love, for Sunghoon, was too strong.

Who would say about love when, in fact, he was hired to kill? Often people from his own family and for financial reasons. So how could he believe that love existed when his job showed otherwise? Of course, everyone had family problems… Look at him! Sunghoon wasn't the greatest example of this, but come on, he would never have his grandfather or anyone else killed in his own home. It was bizarre, but unfortunately, that's what he dealt with most of the time. And that's what filled his pocket and made him change his life.

Moving into his apartment after his grandfather died, having more contact with Jake and his father about the business, and even getting on a bit more when things started to expand. This was all thanks to Sunghoon's skill and eye for instigating Jake's father to think bigger. It was risky for him to try to suggest that they think big, such as killing some CEO in debt or someone high up.

You've got to be crazy, he heard Jake mutter once, at an informal meeting they had after a successful case. Sunghoon could be crazy, but when it came down to it and money, the highest cases paid well. And that's what he asked Jake's father about until they had their first diplomat client. The amount to be paid was so high that they had never thought of having it in their bank accounts.

"We need to kill about four people to get that" Jake muttered after looking at the amount. A sigh left his father's lips before he agreed.

And so began the great social affair between Jake and Sunghoon – along with Jake's father – for bigger cases with fat sums in their money accounts.

It was dangerous, but Sunghoon lived for it. He didn't have anyone else, he didn't have anything to think about except his well-being and how he could have what he wanted more peacefully after living in poverty for years. He didn't want to go through the insecurity of not having anything to eat, or having to wander the streets looking for something to do or somewhere to stay so that he wouldn't have to be alone in a house where he didn't know who would come back. But now, in his apartment, he shared the peace of knowing that everything was his. Every little thing in there had been earned by him, even if the money wasn't in the cleanest way, but someone had to do that kind of work.

And it wasn't as if Sunghoon would kill just anyone either, he had strict criteria about this that he made very clear to Jake and his father before things got as strong as they are today. Like killing people who had only done some kind of harm to those who had asked for it. Like women who had been beaten by their husbands, or someone in particular who had physically or mentally hurt whoever was hiring the service. Or that person posed a risk to the society in question and they knew that no authority would do anything about it. So they did. And the most important thing of all was that under no circumstances would Sunghoon lay a hand on a woman.

But the universe seemed to play tricks on him that morning, arriving at the office and seeing Jake's eyes light up. It would be pointless to ask why, considering that he was one of the first to receive clients and their proposals, so someone had probably come to Jake to talk to him and give him a huge sum of money.

"Dude, I think we're rich" he threw himself into the leather chair that initially belonged to his father. But as long as the older man didn't arrive at the office, Jake took possession of it until that happened.

"What do you mean?" Sunghoon held back a laugh as he walked a little further into the office, throwing his body into the small armchair opposite the desk Jake was sitting at "A client with good money?"

"Better than that" he sighed, throwing his head back "This client wants to hire our services for two people, but the price is—"

"Jake, spit it out" Sunghoon said quickly.

"Bro, she'll pay two million" he looked directly at Sunghoon. That amount would cheer the boy up if he hadn't heard it before, or even been paid for it "For each of us, and for each of the two people we're going to kill."

Wait, that was new to Sunghoon. Two million for each of them, totaling two people to kill, so… Four million for him, and four million for Jake?

"Man, that's…"

"Insane, I know" Jake interrupted him as if he already knew what his friend was going to say. But something seemed a little off because he didn't have that much energy to say that amount. Normally Jake would have been bouncing around the room literally like a child, totally losing his hitman pose as he commented on the four million that would be playing around in his bank account for the next few weeks.

"What's wrong?" Sunghoon asked at once, noticing the change in his friend's mood as the seconds passed. Jake now looked a little uncomfortable in his father's chair and shifted his body a few times to try to find a comfortable position, opting to lean his elbows on the table and tilt his body a little.

"You know it's four million each, right?" he asked, watching Sunghoon agree "And that the percentage we give my father on each client is very small because, well, he already has a lot of money…"

"Speak up, man. You're stalling on something." Sunghoon wasn't out of patience, but he knew that Jake tended to talk too much when he was nervous. What could have happened to make him like this?

Jake nodded in agreement and continued to lean on the table, leaning towards Sunghoon, who settled into the armchair and imitated his friend's position on the other side. Leaning his elbows on the table and looking at the boy in front of him, who was now looking at his hands.

"A woman wants us to kill her brother and…" Jake slowly closed his eyes "Her niece."

Sunghoon felt a ringing in his ear and then his whole body tensed up. He couldn't explain why he had that reaction, but just mentioning that there was a woman for him to kill made everything seem completely out of place to him.

"You're kidding me, right?" Sunghoon asked.

"I really wanted to, man, I swear" he whined, watching Sunghoon's withdrawal appear little by little as he slid his arms off the table and leaned back in the armchair.

"And what did those two do to make her want to kill two people at once?"

"I don't know" Jake shrugged. "She hasn't told me yet, she's arranged a meeting and my father wants to go along. It's too high…"

"You two do it" he stood up, walking to the middle of the room before he heard Jake calling after him. Without turning around, Sunghoon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He waited a few seconds before finally turning to his friend.

"I can't do this without you, bro. You know we've been working together forever" Jake began.

"But what are my conditions?" Sunghoon asked, and for a moment he saw a glimmer of regret in Jake's eyes. For mentioning or even thinking that his friend might do this kind of thing. Maybe the money had messed with his head a bit and he wouldn't deny it, but Jake knew Sunghoon well enough, he just wanted to try until he couldn't anymore. Even though he knew it would come to nothing because Sunghoon would never accept.

Silence was Jake's way of responding, not knowing exactly what to say because he knew Sunghoon's terms well. Everyone was aware and in agreement, so why change their minds at that moment?

"I just need your help, then" he said after some quiet time.

"I'm not putting my hands on either of you, be warned," Sunghoon said, a little angry about the whole situation until he saw Jake nod silently, implying that he had nothing more to say.

Then, as if on cue, he left the room and walked around the building in search of something to clear his mind of what had just happened. It was an unimaginable amount for him, but Sunghoon wouldn't go against his principles for it.

For the first time, he had refused something that Jake had asked of him. And he felt immensely awkward about it.

You could feel the migraine invading you little by little. The side of your head ached like never before, while your eyes stung and you tried your best to pay attention to people and their words of condolence.

It had been a week since your grandfather's death, and the only sincere tears you had seen – apart from your own – were those of your uncle. He was the closest thing to real family you had after your father's death a year ago. Having him around was comforting, especially as your family was driven by money and scandal. Everything revolved around social and financial status. Your grandfather's company was the focal point of all that arrogance in the family members.

But now, with his death and the will read, you had to assimilate that the only beneficiaries were you and your uncle, the one who was still crying over his father's death and trying to understand how it had all happened. And then there was him, a well-groomed gentleman who eschewed the stereotype of the rich old man and business owner who walked around with a glass of whisky in his hand. On the death certificate, his grandfather had died of cirrhosis, but you were surprised. Even though he wasn't a health professional, you could assume that this would be different, to say the least, since the old man had never drunk a drop of alcohol.

“This is terrible for your health” he once said. “Try never to drink more than necessary. And at parties, I promise to serve you the best natural juice.”

Those words always lingered in your mind because your grandfather was serious, in his own right, but he was very loving. You became so attached to him that you took an interest in the affairs of your grandfather’s company with a genuine gesture of helping him, which he appreciated.

Maybe that was what had made him put your name on that paper, inheriting half of the family fortune. While your uncle got the other half.

Millions and millions, or should say billions? It was so much money that you swore you would die and the amount would continue to yield in your account even though you used it almost every day. That was why you knew that some people who had always been there for your grandfather’s money were now furious because they couldn’t enjoy a single cent of it.

“We are so sorry for the loss of your father, Yvone” someone’s voice took you out of your thoughts, making your eyes dart around the people around you. A well-dressed woman with a tired expression was greeting your aunt. She didn’t have a trace of sadness on her face. That stranger seemed sadder than your aunt over the loss of her father.

“I’m sure you are too” she tried to fake a sad voice that you recognized from afar. Your stomach almost churned as she hugged the other woman.

Suddenly, your embarrassment became even greater, because your aunt's gaze was immediately on you. She seemed angry, with something bad inside her that immediately wanted to be directed at you. Your gaze soon turned away from her to try to find your uncle who was desolate.

Your steps through the environment were fast and precise, the sound of leather shoes against the devastated floor was inhibited by the sound of other people's voices and laments. You weren't running, but the things inside your body said very well that you seemed to be in a hurry.

Your eyes quickly spotted your uncle a little further away, sitting on a bench alone outside. You walked a little calmer towards him until you sat next to the man. He didn't need to look up to know that the only person with compassion in that family was you.

"I wish this nightmare would end" he said quietly, a sob breaking out of his voice when your uncle raised his head and continued to look ahead.

"I still can't believe it" you sighed. Your eyes are locked on the events in front of you. Some people were coming and going from your grandfather's mansion with small flowers in their hands or pieces of paper, like written notes of thanks. Of course, he wouldn't read them, he was dead. But it was a way of thanking everyone he knew, and the reading would be up to you and your uncle. The only ones who cared about the sentimental side of things.

"Do you think Yvone hates us now?" your uncle asked, finally looking at you. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets and bloodshot from his eyeballs, they were so red. You swallowed a sigh and just nodded.

"For the reading of Grandpa's will? Of course" you laughed humorlessly, listening to him accompany you.

As if summoning a haunting, just saying her name out loud made your aunt's figure appear in the doorway of the mansion. She welcomed people by trying to look sad or convincing whoever was arriving. Her eyes quickly fell on you and your uncle, further away from the house and sitting on a secluded bench. She didn't show any reaction but took her cell phone out of her pocket to do something you didn't even care about. Her attention was on the man next to her.

“I can’t be happy knowing that my father left all this for me and you” he ran his hands through his hair, almost pulling it out if it weren’t for your hands stopping him. You held one of his hands and kept it in your lap.

“It’s okay uncle, I’m not happy about this either” you said. “Money won’t erase anything that’s happening to the two of us, you know that.”

Of course, he knew. You and your uncle could sometimes say that you were born into the wrong family because you were the only ones who didn’t count on money. Even though you knew that your whole life revolved around it. Even though every interaction you had since the day you were born was driven by money. It wasn’t your fault for being born into a family like that, but you could deal with it and think about how you spent what you had.

“How about you come in and get a drink? I bet you’re thirsty” your uncle said quietly, making you look at him after some time of contemplation while still watching people entering and leaving the mansion.

“I think I’ll go in a little while, I want to stay here a little longer” you smiled sadly at the man as he stood up and just waved in your direction. Just as you knew when he wanted some time alone, your uncle was also able to understand when you needed it.

Leaving him and going back into the mansion, you saw him disappear among the little people who had now gone inside the house. You remained there, looking around that immense land that your grandfather owned. One of them, to be more exact. You remember playing with your uncle and your father to guess which was the largest land your grandfather had in his name. Of course, the two older men always let you win, even though it was a rather unfunny game. But it was one of the few moments when the three of you were together, aware of the money you had and trying to make good use of it.

Your body slowly shrank with a small gust of wind, indicating that the weather was changing from sunny to something colder and almost rainy. You looked up at the sky, noticing the clouds beginning to darken. Rain was the last thing you wanted, but maybe you needed it. To wash away all that heaviness you've felt since your grandfather died. Rain could help wash away the dirt that remained beneath your feet and wash away all the bad feelings and burdens you would face in the days to come.

The decision to go back inside wasn't so difficult as your body shrank a little more, curses spilling from your lips as you missed a coat or a blanket that could cover your arms. Just a tank top and silk pants weren't a suitable outfit for the moment, but it was the first thing you could think of to wear when your aunt summoned the whole family to pay homage to your grandfather at his mansion.

You got up from the bench and stretched your whole body, trying to shake off some of the day's exhaustion and thinking about how you wanted to go back to your apartment and take a shower. Get all those sticky, fake hugs off your body. Those words buzzing around in your head lamenting what had happened. No one there really cared, so you at least paid attention to the fake tears in front of you.

You walked in slow steps to the front door, trying to avoid walking in with anyone who might greet you. You didn't want to talk to anyone anymore, just to be there long enough to leave. But your steps were quickly stopped.

Feeling a hand around your waist, you looked up to find your aunt standing in the doorway just as something covered your mouth. It all happened too quickly. Your vision began to blur as you struggled against a body that seemed much bigger than yours. Your hands were useless at grabbing any kind of skin to scratch because the arms holding you were covered.

You don't remember much, but the only thing that didn't leave your mind before passing out was the cynical smile of the woman right in front of you.

“What did she ask for?” Sunghoon was exasperated, pacing back and forth as he looked at your unconscious body on the other side of the room.

“To torture her and get a video of her saying she wants to pass everything on to her aunt…” Jake began.

“First of all, I never agreed to this” he interrupted his friend, controlling himself as much as possible so as not to scream and wake you up. They had just taken off the masks and all the equipment when they laid you down on the small mattress with almost no foam.

“My dad just asked you to help me bring her in, I know.” Jake sighed. “I don’t want to do this either, but—”

“Dude, listen” Sunghoon looked at him. “We can deny this and say fuck you to those four million. Seriously, there’s no way we can continue.”

The desperation in his voice was completely real, Jake could feel it. He was also desperate about all of this, although it wasn’t something new for either of them. But the cruelty in how his aunt was making requests of them without even knowing them or having finished the job. How demanding she was and how she wanted everything to be done as quickly as possible. Sunghoon never had bad feelings about his work, he just went there and killed whoever was necessary. But as soon as he looked at his aunt through the gap in the mask and noticed her smile, the way she behaved in front of the people who were entering the house, without even noticing that he and Jake were carrying her to a black car with no license plate.

He didn't know what he was doing, he didn't know why he had accepted all of that. Sunghoon was breaking one of his biggest rules and all because of money? Four million wouldn't pay for his principles even if his job was one of the worst possible. He already had too much blood on his hands, but that didn't matter when you had a woman unconscious and almost ready to be killed by Jake.

Arguing with Mr. Sim was out of the question, he had already tried since he received the offer and saw the man's eyes light up at the amount. Even though he knew that Sunghoon's biggest criteria were at stake.

"If you're not going to kill her, at least help Jake bring her here" was the only thing he said after finishing the little discussion he had started. He couldn't win this one, he couldn't deny something that he had at least managed to keep going.

Now here he was, pacing back and forth and going over what your aunt wanted Jake to do to you.

For one lousy moment, Sunghoon felt a twinge of regret and compassion for you. Your calm countenance while you were unconscious and the way you seemed harmless, something clicked in his mind telling him that you weren't as bad as the woman said you were. Maybe she'd done the worst kind of propaganda just to make you look bad enough for them to kill you.

"Sunghoon, hey" Jake called out quickly, taking off his black glove and throwing it on the table "What are we going to do?"

"I already told you," Sunghoon sighed once again, stopping walking and feeling his throat irritated because he had already shouted at Jake the whole way "Let's give up that four million, it's not worth it."

"Is that all I'm worth?"

Sunghoon looked in Jake's direction and they both froze. Eyes wide, breathing almost labored as they searched for something to cover their faces. But it was too late. As soon as Sunghoon crossed the room and focused on you, there you were. You were sitting with your back against the wall, your hands tied by the ribbons perched perfectly on your lap. Your hair was completely messed up, but he could still see every detail of your face. How, even so, you looked very beautiful.

"Shit" Jake cursed softly, turning away while Sunghoon stood there staring at him. He felt his friend pull him a few times so that you wouldn't stare so hard at his face that you wouldn't recognize him if something went wrong. But Sunghoon simply couldn't move.

"It's okay, I've seen you. I've been awake for a few minutes" your voice was hoarse, perhaps from lack of use, and because you tried to scream before Sunghoon put the cloth over your mouth to force you to faint.

Jake hesitated to turn around but did so when he saw that his friend wasn't moving at all.

"If you say anything—" Sunghoon made Jake look like he was speaking rudely when he landed a weak punch on his arm. He didn't know why he was defending you like that, not least because that was Jake's role, to be rude at first and gradually hurt whoever was in front of them.

Knowing this, Sunghoon already sensed that he would start being rude until Jake's hands were on you to hurt you. And he didn't want that.

"What did you hear?" Sunghoon addressed you for the first time. His eyes still glazed over at your completely weak and staggering figure in front of him.

He noticed that your eyes were bright, maybe watery, and if you blinked a little more, tears would fall like waterfalls. He was already weak just knowing that he had done this to you, seeing you cry would do what to him? Sunghoon didn't want to know. That case was getting too emotional.

"Just the four million part" you moaned a little in pain as you moved and felt your back crack. That mattress was terrible and you assumed you'd been on it for a long time, but it wasn't important. Your mind was elsewhere and on how you were here, so before you could even think of anything, you asked "It was her, wasn't it?"

"Her who?" Sunghoon and Jake asked at the same time.

For a long minute, you were quiet, just thinking about the little interactions you had with the woman who was supposed to have done this to you. Your heart ached, that wasn't possible. You never thought she could do that.

"My aunt told you two to kill me," you tried to keep your voice steady, "did I?"

It was the turn of the two boys to be silent right in front of you. Jake moistened his lips and tried to find the words to answer you, pondering whether or not to be rude to you. Not least because he didn't want to be punched again by Sunghoon. He swallowed dryly and looked away a few times, wondering whether or not to tell the truth.

"I triple it."

"What?" Jake raised his voice, echoing throughout the room as he looked in your direction and then at Sunghoon.

"I say I'll triple that amount" you moved again, trying to find a more comfortable position on that shitty mattress that was making all your muscles ache "If you don't kill me."

Jake laughed. Nervously, perhaps, but he tried to look a little more cool as he walked towards you and bent down right in front of you. Knees bent enough to bring him close to your face. If you were in the best condition, you could lift your leg and kick him in the knee, only to stagger and fall backward. But you just wanted answers.

"Do you think we're open to negotiations, princess?" he shifted his gaze between your eyes and your mouth but remained in your gaze, which was still sparkling. Jake didn't want to seem arrogant, but that's how he'd been taught.

That's how he learned to deal with that kind of situation, listening to everything and every possible appeal before doing his job. But he never received a counter-proposal, especially one as high as that.

"I don't think you'll even get paid that four million, actually" you looked at him, your voice becoming more and more shaky, "but since the whole inheritance is with me, I'll triple it if you don't kill me."

For a second Jake looked back to Sunghoon for support at that moment. He knew that his friend would probably accept because it would give him the chance to never lay a finger on you.

"Instead, I want you to kill my aunt."

That turn of events was making Jake and Sunghoon's heads spin. Hearts pounding as you let a single tear fall down your cheek. You tried to look convincing and strong talking to two guys who were about to kill you.

But being able to protect yourself was one of the few things you learned because it wasn't the first time someone had approached you out of interest. So why not use the money you had to your advantage? You never thought you'd be able to do that kind of thing, but you'd try anything to make sure no one killed you.

And if the case was to have those who wanted you dead killed, then you'd start with that.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[zerosconsort]

Zero's Fic Binding - Sixpence In His Shoe

Sixpence In His Shoe by scifigrl47 [@scifigrl47]

Fandom: Marvel (Comics) Ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Start Date: 02/05/24 End Date: 01/21/25 Pages: 253

I am, honestly, probably the most proud of this cover. This might be the most detailed, delicate, intricate thing I’ve made - ever. I know I haven’t been doing this long, but this? This is really good.

The amount of layers in this bitch is astounding. Sometimes I yearn for the embrace of a better graphic software then Canva. We’ll get there. Anyway.

There is an Owlcrate special edition of The Longest Autumn that inspired the shit out of me for this, along with the version of The Fine Print that i saw in Target that was this beautiful lined foil design. The idea of a mirrored, hyper intricate lace-like cover that wove all the individual parts of the story together drove me crazy. 

The vinyl is foil - which, if you are new to HTV and want to use it to make book covers, LISTEN: This foil sucks. All foil HTV sucks. It’s going to suck to cut. It’s going to REALLY suck to iron on. It will be worth it, but it’s going to try and drag your soul out of your body by your fingernails the entire time you’re using it.

Alright, lets talk about the process and the typeset. 

The entire theme of this fic is marriage - in both that the characters got married, are having a wedding, and are desperately in love with each other despite not actually telling each other that before said marriage and wedding. I initially was going to do a blue and white theme, more along the lines of really flowery modern wedding invitations - but then I read the fic again.

I forgot about the first chapter. Reading again, I paid more attention to what everyone around them was doing to celebrate marriage being legal. The process of it. The traditional feel of how it was done. And that’s the hook that I followed instead. 

Sixpence doesn't have chapter names - so instead I pulled some of the wedding traditions that I researched and used those as my chapter foundations.

Each chapter gets one, where I use the motif as the header and the scene breaks in the chapter. I also added the iconography to the chapter numbers in the header.

I made three of these in total. I fought this book every step of the way - I really needed to be a more experienced version of me to make this book the way I wanted to, but honestly? I literary did the best I could, and even I can tell that I did it.

The first copy of this book went to Sci - Its got a little extra character from being the first version, but out of the three sisters I made of this print run, she turned out the best looking. I'm keeping the most fucked up version (which is otherwise perfect, really, save for the fact that I put the FUCKING SPINE ON BACKWARDS), while the littlest sister is going to go to one of my best friends for a VERY belated gift.

This was a surprised gift for Sci - who had reached out to me almost 4 months ago and asked if they could maybe, possibly, have a copy of Maybe Tomorrow. I knew immediately that I wanted to make this for her too; I had the typeset in my Want To Make file since FEBRUARY OF 2024. So I dusted it off, dumped my other project to the side, and hyper focused on this book for about a month and a half. 

Sci - I admire the fuck out of you. You are a gift and a treasure, and I hope you are ok with me getting my little racoon hands on your fics. Thank you for being open to my interpretation of your work. It’s a privilege and an honor to bind them.

If by some miracle, you have not had the pleasure of reading Sixpence In His Shoe - or any of Sci’s work, #1 what the fuck, #2 please start here.

[moosesarecute]

Day 5: No need for poetry

@azrielappreciationweek

Masterlist

Azriel had the biggest crush he had ever had. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Imagining your life together and having so many date ideas he wanted to ask you out on.

The only problem is, you didn’t know him.

He really didn’t know you either, but for weeks the only thing he could think of was you.

How happy you looked working at your bookshop. How your smile made all the bad things in the world disappear. And how you made both the butterflies in his stomach and his shadows go crazy with the familiar feeling of crushing.

He definitely wasn’t playing it cool, for soon both Nesta and worse than that, Cassian, knew about his crush.

“Just ask her out!” Nesta urged him. “She’s the sweetest! Even if she does reject you, which I’m sure she won’t, she will do it kindly.”

That didn’t help his case at all.

What if he build up the confidence to ask you out and you end up rejecting him? He won’t ever recover.

“Why are you this nervous?” Cassian asked him. “It’s not like you haven’t asked out a female before.”

Of course he had asked out females before, but that was usually just to have sex. He never actually met females he wanted to date. He wanted to cook dinner with you and read with you and go for romantic walks. It was a totally new experience.

“I’m not nervous,” he grumbled back.

“Az, your shadows,” Cassian pointed towards the black blob of shadows in the corner of the room. They were shaking in both excitement and fear.

Azriel waved his hand through them and made them act more neutral. He looked back at his friends and saw both their smug smiles.

“Shut up,” he just said and started to leave the room.

“Az?” He stopped and turned to look at Nesta. “I have this book I need picked up from a certain someone’s bookshop. Can you do that for me?”

Azriel didn’t know who he was when he immediately answered yes and went to the bookshop.

It was surprisingly empty when he walked into the shop. He was immediately relaxed from the cozy atmosphere and comforting smell.

“Hello,” you said from the counter and Azriel felt his heartbeat grow faster from just the sound of your voice. “Can I help you?”

He had to pick up courage with a deep breath before he walked up to you.

“I was sent to pick up a book for Nesta Archeron,” he said and tried to keep his voice from shaking.

“Oh, yes! She’s been so excited to read this one! And I’ve really been looking forward to talk about it with someone. Give me a moment!”

You turned around and looked through the big stack of books that stood on the counter beside her.

“Ask her out,” his shadows started to whisper to him. “She wants you to.”

He just shook his head at them.

You turned around and Azriel suddenly noticed one of his shadows playing with your hair.

He immediately pulled it back.

“Behave”

He felt the shadows laugh back at him.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said after clearing his throat.

“No worries,” you answered with the smile that made his knees weak. He got lost in the beauty of your eyes and studied all the small details in your face that he hadn’t seen from a distance. She handed him the book. “Nesta already paid. Do you need a bag?”

“You too,” he said and his eyes widened at the realization that he absolutely did not answer your question.

He just shook his head and gave you a small smile before he rushed out of the shop.

He hid in his shadows for the rest of the day.

“Okay, I’ve had enough of this,” Cassian said as he dumped as few small books on the table in fr of him.

“Poetry” his shadows let him know.

“I don’t need a poetry lesson, Cass,” he told his brother and let his annoyance show.

“Well, you haven’t been able to ask her out otherwise and right now you are “Nesta’s weird friend”.”

Azriel got embarrassed by the amount of happiness he felt from knowing you spoke about him.

“I don’t need to resort to poetry,” Azriel continued.

“Okay then big guy,” Cassian mocked him. “Prove it.”

That’s when it started. Azriel realized Cassian wasn’t the only one that had enough of Azriel’s crush. His shadows were also annoyed.

So they started watching you. Azriel asked them to stay away multiple times, but they refused to listen.

The only problem was that this only made Azriel’s crush bigger, because the shadows told him about every part of your day.

“Smiles, laughing, singing, talking to her dog, talking to herself about what to have for dinner.”

Azriel started to wonder if his shadows crushed more on you than he did and then he remembered that the shadows acted on his emotions.

One day, the shadows gave him a particular informative message about you.

“Stupid male, mean, pretty smile cry.”

It made Azriel stop in his tracks. You were crying? Someone had said something mean enough to make you, a female that smiled and laughed every second of every day, cry? He needed to do something.

“What can I do?”

“Lonely” was his shadows only answer.

That’s when he realized that maybe asking you out would actually go well. So he started to prepare.

“Favorite food?”

“Pizza.”

“Flowers?” His shadows informed him of the old flowers on your kitchen table.

“Today?”

“Yes”

That’s why he got dressed, flew down from the House of Wind and went to a flower shop before he went to the bookshop.

You stood inside dusting and preparing to close the store when he came in.

“Hello, again,” you greeted him when he walked in even though it only was two minutes until you were closing. He smiled at you. “Can I help you?”

He straightened his back and tightened his wings to try to build confidence.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me,” he asked you.

Your face lit up with an amazing smile.

“I would love that,” you answered and Azriel felt himself get ten kilos lighter. “When were you thinking?”

Now, today.

“I can whenever, what works the best for you?” He asked and impressed himself by the lightness in his voice.

“I’m available now if you just give me a few minutes to change,” you answered.

“That sounds good,” Azriel replied and tried not to fidget to much with the flowers.

The flowers!

“These are for you by the way,” he answered and handed her the yellow bouquet.

“Thank you. Did you know that yellow is my favorite color?” You asked him.

“A few companions of mine might have told me,” he said and hoped you wouldn’t freak out that his shadows had been spying on you.

“I thought so.”

Azriel looked confused.

“You thought so?” He asked.

“I mean,” you started. “I didn’t have shadows braiding my hair every second of every day before I met you.”

First now Azriel noticed the two small braids that had been made in your hair. And he suddenly felt his face become warm.

“Just give me five minutes,” you said with a laugh and left the room.

“I can’t believe you,” he told his shadows.

“It was either that or poetry,” they taunted him back.

Dividers by @cafekitsune