#bats my long luxurious and beautiful eyelashes. you like?

[watch-out-it-bites]

[holybibly]

Today's unholy hour is inspired by this post. Hey, @pixlpxie it seems there are so many unholy thoughts in your pretty head, I will be glad to see you in my inbox.

Life sucks, but you suck better. Or your mafia daddy needs to relax and you're more than happy to oblige.

A low, cooing growl emanates from San's plump lips as he reclines in a luxurious leather chair; it's licking your heated bare skin and causing your hips to slowly sway from side to side in depraved, sweet pleasure.

"That's right, Gongjunim, take it deeper." San's hand gently runs through your hair, brushing a few stray strands away from your pretty face so that he can get a better view of how your little kitty tongue runs along the entire length of his big, thick cock, before he tightly clenches a large handful of your silky locks in his fist. In response, you obediently relax your throat and allow San to slowly move your head up and down the velvety length of his cock, gradually stretching your throat before he pushes his cock sharply into the tight, hot wetness of your larynx. 

You gag on it; the slippery walls tighten around his cock, pressing down on the sensitive, swollen veins that stretch tantalisingly along the massive, heavy length, the sensation making him curse and pull your head back. As his entire cock leaves your mouth, you smack wetly at the swollen, red head of his cock, the viscous, frothy saliva inflating like a bubble before it bursts and runs down on his dick and over your chin. You blink away the tears that are forming in your eyes and look up at him with a look of pure innocence in your eyes. This is what San loves so much about you—your fucking saccharine sweetness that literally sticks to his tongue.

"Damn, you were made to suck my dick, kitten. What a beautiful little girl you are. Always be so good for your daddy. Look at this doll mouth, covered in drool and cum. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Gongjunim?" He purrs in a sultry and hoarse voice, his muscular thighs jerking upwards and his wet dick slapping against your open mouth. 

His sweet praise causes your little hole to squeeze around nothing, and your clit begins to pulsate faintly, as if San had just licked it with his tongue. You let out a pitiful moan at this, batting your long, fluffy eyelashes at him and planting small, sucking kisses on the sensitive, pink flesh of his dick, which is shiny and wet with pre-cum and sticky with your saliva, and you're convinced once again that your daddy's cock is the most delicious. In fact, it feels amazing on your tongue—hot and hard, just the way you like it. You dip the tip of your tongue lightly into the oozing slit at the top of his thick head.

San leans back on the back of his chair and moans so loudly and so vulgarly that any porn actor would be completely ashamed. His black hair is matted, his chiselled, sharp jaws slack, his lips parted, and his eyes dark and heavy as he hungrily watched your plump lips stretch around his cock.

When his sharp cat eyes meet yours, he gives you a slow, predatory grin—a beautiful, cocky look that makes you squirm in your spot between his spread legs.

Determined to give your daddy more pleasure, you drag your tongue around the head of his cock before wrapping your lips completely around it, sucking in your cheeks, and pulling back until his dick pops out of your mouth with wet sucking sounds.

San hisses and grits his teeth. He throws his head back, exposing his thick neck to your gaze, glistening with sweat and with bulging veins.

"Fuck, you're killing me, Gongjunim. My precious girl, the best cocksucker of all time.".

Encouraged by his words, you repeat this action a few more times; the disgusting slurping sound that you make when you do it is muffled by the massive size of his cock in your mouth. You take a deep breath through your nose and drag his cock along your tongue until the head hits the back of your throat, and you choke slightly, trying to control the urge to gag. 

Looking down at you, San laughs darkly; the sound is hoarse and absolutely evil. His large, slightly coarse hands begin to massage your shoulders and the sides of your neck.

"Perfect, finest Daddy's toy. I love you so much, Princess."

You whimper at his words and leave wet, smeared kisses on the sides of his big, beautiful cock. You don't look at him anymore. You're too busy licking up the pre-cum and pressing the swollen, wet head of his cock against the inside of your cheek, the way you know San likes it.

You let out a pitiful moan as you try to swallow him whole, pushing his thick girth deeper and deeper into the narrow tunnel of your throat as you go. As you look up at him again with your tear-filled eyes, you take a deep breath before you relax your jaw completely and swallow him down as far as you can. The outline of his cock is clearly visible on the back of your neck, which only serves to excite San even more.

"Fuck, kitten; that's right. Always be so hard-working for your daddy. Do you love Daddy's cock so much?" His fingers dig into your skin in a painful way, and you let out a half-squeal and slap San on one of his veiny forearms. He mumbles something and apologises, then relaxes his fingers to grab you by the hair instead and set his own pace the way you suck him off.

San holds your head in place, his strong, muscular thighs tightening on either side of your head before he lifts them up, thrusting roughly and briefly into your malleable, soft mouth. San doesn't go as deep as he could; he stretches out his pleasure and just uses you as a nice, tight sleeve for his cock. He gives you a few more quick thrusts before he pushes your head down with all his might until your nose is pressed against the smooth, wet skin of his pubic area. Your lips are stretched out around the base of his cock in the most beautiful way possible, while his balls are pressed tightly against your chin.

You swallow thickly and heavily around it, choking completely on his thick cock as you feel the distinct pulsation of his hot length on your tongue.

"Oh my God, you're so goddamn good, Gongjunim, fuck! You make Daddy feel so good. Do you enjoy gagging on my cock, gorgeous?" San moans, practically choking to death as you mooe incoherently around him, causing his cock to press even harder against your airway. "You take all of my cock like a fucking champ, huh? I'm so proud of you, beautiful. Do you know that?" He hisses, and it makes your pussy clench up with the need to be filled with his sperm.

It's all dirty and disgusting, and as you lift your head up and slide your lips along his cock, viscous saliva coats his silky skin and stretches to your lips in long strands as you pull away completely to take a breath, looking at him with wide eyes as you move your jaw to ease the pain a little.

"Do it one more time, kitten. Deepthroat again." He exhales, his feline eyes darkening and becoming heavy, completely clouded with lust and needing to please.

San wraps his arms around the warm nape of your neck from behind and pulls your flushed face back down onto his cock. You immediately give him a sweet kiss on the head of his cock before you allow San to take his wet, drooling and pre-cum covered cock back between your swollen lips, stretching them out around the hard flesh and pulsating veins. "You can handle this, Gongjunim. I am absolutely sure of it."

His broad shoulders tense, his muscles straining and clenched under his sweaty golden skin, and he holds his breath, watching as you lower yourself onto him again, his lips parted, his breathing heavy and uneven, and San watches in fascination as you roll your eyes in pleasure, enjoying the slight pain of his huge cock pushing back down your throat and even deeper into the hot tightness of your larynx to choke you completely.

His moan is long, low, and purring like a predatory big cat, so depraved that it causes a thick stream of wetness to flow from your tiny hole. And that's another thing San adores about you. Your hole is so tight and small that even though he fucks you non-stop, each time San has to make an effort to push his massive cock inside your pussy.

San's hand slides over your shoulders, the short nails leaving red lines on your skin as you swallow extra hard and choke, leaving your own possessive marks in the shape of crescent moons on his thick thighs and the perfect six-pack of his abs. Your daddy is all yours, and you love to mark him in every possible way.

His stomach tightens just as much as his luscious thighs do, and you lean back for a bit of a break as you feel the twitch of his cock in your mouth.

"God, you're going to make me cum." He growls as he pulls you back into him. Your eyes flutter, tears streaming down your plump, hot cheeks. You moan loudly, opening your mouth and sticking out your soft, slobbery tongue desperate to please your daddy.

He pushes into your mouth again, sharp and deep, his hot length sliding between the tight walls of your throat. San rolls his hips a little as he fucks your face; his rhythm is steady and slow.

"You have fun with that, don't you?" He asks as he wraps his long fingers around your neck so that he can feel the bulge of his cock in your throat. It also cuts off what little space you had left to breathe in.

You go completely still and enjoy all the attention that your daddy is giving you right now. His big hand pulls you even closer to him until your chin is resting on his balls once more. 

"Do you want my cum, kitten?" You nod weakly with his cock still in your mouth, feeling the drool running down your chin from your rocking movements. San purrs in a sultry way and runs his thumb over your hot, red cheek, enjoying your wet, husky sigh as his fingers relax around your neck. "Oh, sweet girl, I will give you all of it, I promise. Daddy is going to feed his little kitty with his milk."

There is a dark promise lurking in his voice, and it makes your whole body tremble. Your toes curl with a sharp wave of desire, and you shake your bottom from side to side. San calms you down and pats you gently on the shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll make you feel so good afterwards. I'm going to try you too, Gongjunim. Daddy is going to lick your dripping, sweet cunt, my baby.".

You lower your mouth onto his cock again, and San can't take it any more. He moans lustfully, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes, his hands beginning to massage your shoulders and neck again, sending the sharp heat of pleasure sparkling through your skin.

His thick, luxurious thighs suddenly begin to tremble, and he growls like a fucking animal as your tongue presses against the bulging vein on his cock, his beautiful stomach flexes, and his toned pecs rise and fall with heavy, raspy breathing. You feel his abs twitching under your hand, and at that moment, your mouth is filled with his cum. It's a thick, copious stream of warm liquid that rushes down the back of your throat and causes you to choke. You have to step back so that you can drink all of his cum and get a good taste of it.

You purr sweetly as you lick the throbbing head of his cock with your tongue, lapping it, slurping it, and swallowing all of the bittersweet, milky liquid. The sperm leaks out of your parted mouth and runs down the silky length of his cock. You chase after the sticky drops and suck them, retracting your cheeks as hard as you can and wrapping your lips around his cock to suck him dry. God, if it were possible, you could drink his cum instead of water. You're so fucked for your hot Mafia daddy.

You lower your mouth onto his cock again, and San can't take it any more. He moans lustfully, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes, his hands beginning to massage your shoulders and neck again, sending the sharp heat of pleasure through your skin.

His thick, luxurious thighs suddenly begin to tremble, and he growls like a fucking animal as your tongue presses against the bulging vein on his cock, his beautiful stomach flexes, and his toned pecs rise and fall with heavy, raspy breathing. You feel his abs twitching under your hand, and at that moment, your mouth is filled with his cum. It's a thick, copious stream of warm liquid that rushes down the back of your throat and causes you to choke. You have to step back so that you can drink all of his cum and get a good taste of it.

You purr sweetly as you lick the throbbing head of his cock with your tongue, lapping it, slurping it, and swallowing all of the bittersweet, milky liquid. The sperm leaks out of your parted mouth and runs down the silky length of his cock. You chase after the sticky drops and suck them in with your cheeks as hard as you can to suck them dry. You suck his cock like you are the best girl in the world. God, if it were possible, you could drink his cum instead of water. You're so fucked for your hot Mafia daddy.

Through it all, San lets out deep, aching moans as he says your name, showering you with praise and compliments. He whispers sweetly to you, ‘My sweet kitten,’ ‘The best cocksucker ever,’ ‘My little slut queen,’ as his sperm continues to spurt onto your tongue. His hips arching languidly forward in time with your movements of your mouth as he cupping the back of your head and squeezing the base of his big cock with his other hand, as if he could squeeze more cum out of himself for you.

When you finally pull away from him, you swallow thickly and greedily, looking up at him with huge, watery eyes before you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to once again run your tongue over the pink head of his cock. He hisses in hypersensitivity, grinning at you and stroking his cock sluggishly. Another lazy stream of cum leaks onto your tongue and runs down the tattooed knuckles of his fingers, which you eagerly lick. As if San could sense that you couldn't get enough of more cum, it bursts out of his slit like a viscous, white thread. It lands on your lips and wet chin, covering your pretty face with a milky, pale glaze.

"You always know how to give a good blow job, my princess." He mumbles lazily as he watches your licking of your lower lip. You smile at him and nod your head, moving slightly away from his hips as they spread apart.

He grabs your hair in his fist before you can get too far away and bends his arm to pull you up against his strong body so that he can kiss you. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, causing you to whimper and moan into his lips, your small hands wrapped around his thick, tight neck as he kisses you. San explores your mouth with sighs and moans, his hands caressing your breasts and moving down your back, massaging your ass, your hips, and your waist. As his strong fingers dig into the aching muscles of your neck, you feel as if you are melting away beneath him.

San releases you from his grasp, only for a change of position. He pushes you down to the floor and folds you in half so that your knees are close to your head and your wet little pussy is completely open and at his disposal. Your hips arch as his tongue flicks over the soft, sensitive skin of your pussy and you gasp, "Daddy!" and clutch his beautiful silky hair. His hands are gripping your hips tightly, thick fingers pressing into the flesh to force your writhing hips into his face so that he can bury his nose in your aching, slutty сunt.

"Now it's my turn, kitten." He growls as he licks up the thick juices that are pooling between your folds before he plunges into your clit with a disgusting, lewd slurp.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Too Long

Kinktober 2024 - Day 22

Kink: Stripping

Pairing: CEO!Nick Fowler x Stripper!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1500+

Summary: Nick is one of your best clients and the only one you let break the rules.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, stripping, strip tease, teasing, rough sex, dirty talk, allusions to multiple orgasms, daddy kink, power dynamics), whipped!Nick, fluff, reader's stage name is 'Kitty'

a/n: Here's Day 22! I'm not sure if I'll be able to get tomorrow's fic posted in the morning! It might be later. My job is taking up a lot of my time along with grad school, but I'll do my best!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

You worked at a very high end Gentlemen’s club in downtown D.C. and you catered to one of the richest and most successful men in the country. Nick Fowler was a regular, always asking for the most luxury room with you, the club’s favorite dancer. He came in once a week, always with two body guards that followed him around and stood outside of the room the whole time he rented it out. But it had been a month or two since Nick had come into the club, and it was pathetic but you were missing him. When you took him to the room, you broke the club’s rules multiple times by letting him touch you, kiss you, fuck you, and it was magical. 

Nick had finally finished a business deal in Hong Kong that took way too long to negotiate and fuck, he was missing his own bed, but he was missing you more. He never thought a fucking stripper of all people would capture his heart, but you did. He thought you were beautiful, sexy, and so powerful. He never thought strippers could have that kind of power but when you walked onto stage, everyone went quiet, all eyes were on you as your body glistened with glitter in the spotlight, and how your curves showed in your lacy garments. You looked like a fucking lace clad angel, you were perfect. 

He stepped into the club with his bodyguards following a few feet behind as he walked up to the bar. He ordered his usual and asked for you specifically. When you heard that Nick was back and was at the bar, you tried to not make it look too obvious as you rushed over. You were wearing a black and red lace bodysuit, with matching garter belt and thigh high lace tights, and black heels. Nick smirked as he turned to you and regarded you with hungry eyes. 

“Hello, kitty. Miss me?” Nick hummed as he sipped his drink. 

Your smile widened and you nodded as you bit your lip, “I did, sir. I was beginning to worry.” You purred as you caressed his shoulder and he smirked and took your hand in his warm one. “Your regular, Mr. Fowler?”

His smirk grew and he nodded, “Lead the way, kitty.” He winked and you pulled him along through the hallway of the club towards the room, you two always shared. You pulled him inside and he closed and locked the door. As soon as the door was closed, he pressed you against it and his lips pressed to yours. You moaned against his lips as his tongue invaded your mouth as his hands trailed along your lace clad chest. He pulled away as his eyes took in your body hungrily, “Is this one of the sets I bought you, kitty?” He asked with a growl to his voice and you nodded. 

“Mhm, one of my favorites, daddy.” You purred as you batted your eyelashes at him, making him groan softly as he rested his forehead against yours. 

He pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed and spread his thighs before taking off his tie, “Give me a dance, pretty kitty. Wanna see all of you.” He grinned wolfishly and you blushed under his gaze and went to the tablet on the table, and choose his usual song. The beginning chords of “Daddy Issues”, by The Neighborhood played through the speakers. 

Your eyes locked onto his as your hips gently swayed to the music and you ran your hands down your breasts and over your hips. Nick’s eyes darkened as he sipped his drink while watching you. You sauntered over and straddled his lap and grinded your hips down teasingly on his lap before pulling away. You reached behind you to undo the corset of your body suit and let the straps drop from your shoulders, but your breasts kept the fabric up. You moved through your routine like you do every night but with the exception of letting Nick touch you how he pleased. He had a prominent bulge the entire time, his mind playing back the moments just like this one. He couldn’t wait to take his time with you.

Once the song was over, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bed in the middle of the room, and sat down with you in his lap. “When are you gonna let me take you away from this place?” He hummed as his hands explored your lace clad body.

“I like my job, Nick. You know that.” You shrugged and he pulled the top down to reveal your breasts to him. 

“Mm, I know but I want you to myself. I can treat you so well.” He said as his palms groped and squeezed your breasts, grinding his palms against your nipples. 

You let out a soft moan at the feeling of his warm hands on your peaked nipples. “Maybe I’ll think about it.” You hummed and leaned into his hands as your hips grinded down on his bulge, pressing your clit against the zipper of his slacks. You moaned and you leaned down to trail soft kisses down his neck, as your hands made quick work of the buttons of his white shirt. You tugged his shirt free from his pants and you purred as you felt down his pecs to his taut stomach. 

“It’s been too long since I’ve had you.” He grunted and he flipped you two over so you pressed against the duvet of the bed. He made quick work of your bodysuit, tossing the lace outfit away, leaving you bare except for your garter belt and stockings. He undid his belt and slacks, pulling his hard cock out of his pants, before climbing on top of you.

“I want you, daddy. Please.” You whined as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer to your core. He groaned as he felt his tip catch on your entrance and he reached down to line himself up to your weeping hole. 

“Have you been good since I’ve been gone?” He smirked as he teased his cock through your soaked folds. You nodded quickly as you tried to grind down on his cock, but a sharp slap to your inner thigh had you settling down. “Patience, kitty. M’not going anywhere. Just want to feel you.” He groaned as he slipped just the tip of his thick cock into your tight cunt. 

A fire lit in your lower stomach at the sensation of his cock pressing into you, stretching your walls around his tip. You whined and gripped his shoulders tight, digging his nails into his shoulders, making him groan at the pain of your nails. “Want more, daddy. Please!” You cried as his thumb moved down to circle your clit teasingly. 

Your walls pulsed around his tip as he slowly pushed into you deeper before pulling out again, just teasing you with his cock. “Mm, love the noises you make.” He hummed as he leaned down to kiss your breasts softly, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

He finally slid all the way into your cunt, making your back arch and a loud moan leave your lips, making you thankful for the soundproofed walls. “F-fuck, daddy. Oh my god!” You whined and your thighs shook around his hips as the pleasure coursed through you. Nick pulled away from your chest, resting his forehead against yours, groaning softly as he gave an experimental thrust into your core. 

“Fuckin’ hell, kitty. You’re so fucking tight. I can feel you gushing around my cock, your little cunt is sucking me in. So needy.” He grunted as he gripped your hips not as tight as he wanted to but enough so he could pound into your wet cunt. 

Your nails dug into his shoulders as a string of moans and whines left your lips as the tip of his cock grinds and presses against your sweet spot. Your thighs tighten around his hips as your hips grind down to meet each thrust of his hips. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him down to kiss his lips passionately. He groaned against your lips as your walls pulsed with your impending orgasm, your walls gripping and sucking his cock with each thrust. 

He brought you to your first orgasm of the night by slapping your clit with the palm of his hand, which pushed you over the edge. It had you crying his name as you gushed around his cock and your thighs shook around his hips. He grunted with each thrust, helping you through your orgasm. 

“Good fucking girl. So wet and warm. Can feel your cunt weeping. You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” He growled as he nuzzled against your neck softly kissing your sensitive skin there till your thighs stopped shaking. “Mm, I’m not done with you yet, kitty. I have two months to make up for. I’m not letting you go till your shift is over.” He smirked and you whined and tugged him close to you. 

“Anything you want, daddy.” You whined as your nails dug into his shoulders then he started pounding into you again.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Cowboy Like Me - Part 5

Azriel x Reader

Reader is introduced to the rest of the Inner Circle, Elain included. Azriel feels awkward. Nyx is adorable. Amren does what Amren does best and throws shade.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Warnings: suggestive language, alcohol

The “River House” as it was so lovingly referred to was stunning and not a house in the slightest. It was an estate, and a massive one at that. I was able to hide my awe at the size of it upon arriving to the grounds but any mask of indifference disappeared as I stepped inside.

The air inside welcomed me with the aromas of seasoned foods and warm bread. Fresh flowers and art decorated the entry hall of the manor - loving, thoughtful intricacies decorated the attached living area along with cozy furniture and amenities. Somehow the High Lord and High Lady managed to turn this grand estate into a home. The sounds of laughter from another room were enough to tell me that this was a home of love and not the cold, indifferent atmosphere of many in the upper echelon of Prythian.

Before I could explore, Mor grabbed my arm and whisked me up the grand staircase. “Come on! Let’s indulge in the riches of our excursion.” Her full lips spread into a warm smile.

The room - her room - was exactly what I’d picture for the female. It was somehow luxurious if a bit sultry, while warm and welcoming, much like she was. She took my hand, leading me to a large oak vanity. With a flick of her wrist, the pocket realm revealed our spoils. Rummaging through them, Mor pulled out cosmetics from one of the boutiques we’d stopped in. I went to reach for the items but Mor swatted my hand away. “I know you’re capable of doing your own makeup but I believe I’ve got many years of experience on you. Pleaseeee, may I do your makeup? Please, please, please?”

She made a show of the pleading forming a pout on her lips, batting thick eyelashes as if she were a child trying to win over their parents.

I giggled. “Fiiiiine. Do your worst, Morrigan.”

She clapped, letting out a squeal. “Only my best for you, dear.”

An hour later my face was made up - lips painted a sultry red, kohl lightly lining my eyes, my eyelashes so thick that I likely could blink and blow half the estate away. One half of my hair fell over my shoulder in loose waves while the other was pinned back, accentuating my high cheek bones and pointed ears. A gorgeous blue dress that wasn’t too formal for dinner but was definitely a bit…. extra, fit me like an extra layer of skin. Fortunately, if I was overdressed, Mor would be too as she wore the same, only in red.

Gazing in the mirror I had to admit. I did look pretty damned beautiful. The dress hugged my curves perfectly, accentuating my feminine figure.

“Your boobs look AMAZING.” Mor shamelessly exclaimed as she smoothed out the front of her dress before looking down to admire her own cleavage.

“Says you” I smirked. “You look divine.”

“We are quite the double-threat.” She laughed. “Come on, let’s introduce you to the rest of the family and eat. I’m STARVING.”

“It hasn’t been that long since we ate!” I laughed.

“What’s that have to do with anything? Besides, the sooner we eat, the sooner we can break into the expensive wines.”

With that, she extended her arm and led me downstairs.

———————————-

Mor led me into a seating area where Nesta was sitting with a female who looked like a softer version of her. Not the High Lady, so this must be the third Archeron sister, Elain.

Mor’s demeanor shifted slightly as we entered the room, walking toward Nesta who looked up from her book to greet me “Hello, Y/N.”

I smiled. “Hello Nesta, I missed having our lesson together today. I’m rather eager to brush up on my ballroom dancing skills soon.”

The silver-eyed female smirked with a hint of amusement that only a trained eye could spot “It’s not you who needs the extra work, it’s the toe-stepper.”

I huffed a small laugh. Her and Mor were so different yet both felt like they could have been good friends in another life, had I been born into this circle.

I turned to the doe-eyed female next to her about to introduce myself when Azriel entered the room gaze fixed on Nesta. “It was one time! You two are never going to let that go, are you?”

Elain tensed as his gaze shifted to her from Nesta, he nodded his head in greeting before turning toward me.

When his eyes met mine, he froze, that intense hazel gaze sweeping from my head to my toes and back up again, twice. I could have sworn his gaze fixed on my chest for a moment before he met my eyes again. “You look…” he paused, then glanced slightly to the side, seemingly remembering who was in the room. “Nice.”

Mor scoffed. “Nice? I know you’re not a male of many words, Az, but nice? I’d go with ethereal, like a goddess, a deity.” She rolled her eyes, scoffing once Mor. “Nice.”

Azriel said nothing as Mor again took my arm, “Come on, Y/N, let’s go speak with people who will appreciate your naturally gorgeous features and my incredible skills in enhancing them.”

A part of me begged to feel disappointment in Azriel’s choice of words but, words meant so little when his eyes said so much. Perhaps he still had a relationship with Elain? Perhaps they didn’t have one but he didn’t want to hurt her? Perhaps he was completely indifferent and… ugh. Again, why does it matter? He’s a colleague and nothing more. He owes me nothing.

Mor and I entered the dining room to find Rhysand, “Rhys” as he told me to call him and the High Lady. “High Lady” I curtsied, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, officially.”

“Hello Y/N,” a soft smile graced her face, her gray-blue eyes fixed softly on me. “It’s nice to have you here. I do remember briefly seeing you during the encounter in the Summer Court but it’s nice to truly meet you.”

“Thank you, High Lady.”

A booming laugh echoed through the room as a broad, tall Illyrian male entered the space, taking up most of the large entryway. Cassian, I recalled. The general of the Night Court’s armies, the fearsome Lord of Bloodshed.

“High Lady? Since when does family dinner have such formality?”

He turned toward me with a wicked grin. “Hi, I’m Cassian. Just Cassian. And you must be my new favorite person - the one who hit Az with that baguette.”

I blushed, hiding a laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, Just Cassian. I’m Y/N.”

Cassian’s eyes lit up at his humor being met by my own cheesy attempt at a joke. “Az didn’t tell me you were so….” His cheeks puffed as he blew out air “So…” with both palms extended, he gestured to me in an up and downward motion. Clearly my figure was not lost on him. Under typical circumstances, this would have been awkward but I could sense that this was, well, just Cassian.

“Oh good gods.” Mor muttered. “You males are truly terrible at complimenting an attractive female.”

Rhys mocked offense, striding up to me only halting a step away. “Y/N, darling. You look exquisite.” then proceeded to take my hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

Feyre’s eyes lit up at the gesture, clearly adept at enduring her husband’s antics. “You really do look stunning, Y/N. And, as I would have told you before Cassian butt into our conversation, please just call me Feyre.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. Truly.”

At that moment, a shadow-wraith with High Fae features entered the room holding a babbling and insanely adorable winged toddler. “Oh, the wraith said. I didn’t realize there was… company” she eyed me for a moment before returning her gaze toward Feyre, who only smiled and took the babe from her arms. “It’s okay Nuala, this is Y/N, she’s here for family dinner.”

Nuala’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” Walking toward me in easy-graceful strides and a nod of her head. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her tone and expression kind with a hint of curiosity thrown in.

The lovely wraith skittered out of the room as a very petite fae entered the room with one hell of a commanding presence. Oh, I knew exactly who this was. The legendary “Amren”. Rhysand’s second in command. Gods, she was practically legendary - tales of her both horrifying and awe-inspiring. I bowed in reverence as she assessed me, sniffing the air. “Interesting.” She said flatly, more to herself than anyone else.

“That’s Amren.” Mor noted. “Don’t mind her. She’s likely hangry and in need of a nap.”

“Careful, girl.” Amren chided. “You aren’t far off from the truth. Do not test me.” Her lips curled into a slightly terrifying smirk.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

An awkward silence momentarily filled the room before the toddler in Feyre’s arms noticed my presence, patting his mother’s shoulder before pointing a chubby finger at Mor and me. “Mama, mama! Look! Pretty!”

“Finally!” Mor praised. “A male that knows how to give a compliment. Thank you, Nyxie baby.”

—————————————

Dinner was spread out on the table before us leaving my mouth practically watering. Mor seated herself on my right, Feyre on my left at the head of the table with Nyx in a high chair beside her, and Rhys next to him. Azriel sat across from me avoiding eye contact. Though, I felt his burning gaze on me any time I turned to Mor or Feyre to speak. A small, traitorous part of me heated low in my belly knowing that he couldn’t resist sneaking glances in my direction.

Elain seated herself beside him in an awkward manner as it was the only remaining chair. Her body tense and avoiding any accidental brushes of their arms. I caught her looking at me a few times too, something like longing and contempt warring within her overall kind features. My gut churned at the tension, though nobody seemed to sense it.

A pang filled my chest at the sight of the High Lady at the head of the table and her mate, the High Lord next to her and their son, instead of the opposite end of the table. They were good parents, you could see the love they poured into Nyx overflowing out of him. My parents loved me that way too.

Chatter filled the table, Cassian’s boisterous laugh and risqué comments earning elbow nudges from Nesta to which he’d look at her with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. The fierce female warming beneath his stare.

I may not be a total romantic but my mind wandered. What would it be like to be loved like that? The way Rhys looked at Feyre and her at him, and the way Cassian and Nesta looked at each other. Mates. Something only the lucky few ever experienced.

“You’re being quiet, girl.” Amren accused. “Listening for information to sell to the highest bidder?”

“Amren.” Azriel warned.

“What?” The petite female added. “This is perfectly normal? For you to invite a stranger, one who is a known spy join us as if we’ve known and trusted her for centuries? Since when do you go to such great measures in seeking evening companionship.”

My jaw dropped at the same time Elain gasped at the statement.

“Enough, Amren.” Rhysand spoke. “She is my guest. I am the one who invited her.”

“A foolish decision.”

Darkness rolled off of Rhys, dimming the room. Feyre diverted Nyx’s attention to her with gentle coos.

I stood to excuse myself from the table, Azriel quickly standing to follow, but Rhys held a hand toward him. “Excuse us, Y/N. I believe we need to have a family discussion on manners. Azriel, stay seated. Elain, perhaps you could show Y/N the garden.”

Mor started “That’s not necessary, I can -“

“You will stay here too, Mor.” Rhys demanded.

Elain slowly, begrudgingly stood up from the table, walking past me with a whispered “follow me.”

——————————————-

Tags: @fxckmiup @saltedcoffeescotch @minnieoo

[cilil]

AN: Alright, my dear @fraeuleinfriedhof, I am a woman of my word. I decided to choose one of the dark romance prompts to create this little gift for you and hope it is to your liking!

dark romance prompts

♡ prompt: marked ~ Melkor x Mairon ♡ synopsis: While the Ainur of Utumno feast, Melkor makes sure everyone knows that Mairon is his and his alone. ♡ warnings: Smut(ty), not-too-explicit public sex, possessiveness, a hedonistic hell party going on in the background ♡ short oneshot (~600 words)

A snowstorm raged outside, pelting the frozen north of Arda with a furious flurry of hail and ice. 

The halls of Utumno, however, were filled with warmth, laughter and music, and the Maiar of Melkor celebrated their lord's glory and generosity. Fires burned freely between mighty pillars of obsidian, wine, blood and meat were served in abundance and all indulged in whichever pleasures of the flesh they craved. It was a wild and frightening spectacle to behold, like a dance of maddened, frenzied beings that had once been holy and pure, and the scent of ash filled the air. 

Amidst the chaos stood the throne of Melkor where he lounged, watching his people with idle amusement. On his lap, seated proudly and clinging to his form like a precious piece of jewellery, was a Maia unlike any other, one bright and beautiful among creatures of darkness, with hair of copper, eyes of gold and lips like liquid rubies. 

One of Melkor's hands held onto his slender waist possessively, and the other was interlaced with his, each adorned with a black and golden ring, as if he needed to stake his claim on the wondrous creature he had chosen as his consort – though all Ainur who had ever come across He who arises in Might knew better than to covet what was his. 

Mairon had long since learned to ignore the stares. He had learned to smile and giggle and bat his eyelashes whenever Melkor's hands began to wander. His entire being lit up with perverse, triumphant euphoria as he felt cool fingers slip underneath his luxurious robes and search for bare skin; on Almaren, he had been a mere apprentice of a smith, and now he was the consort of a king. His best, his brightest, his favourite, his *precious*. 

Melkor's grip on his hand tightened just as his wandering hand cupped his ass. "I want you." 

A clear, brilliant laugh filled the air, teasing to the point of mockery, and Mairon threw his head back to cheekily evade a greedy kiss – only to bare his neck, deliberately. 

"Right here? Right now?" he asked, pretending to swoon at the mere idea. 

"Yes." Melkor pushed him down harder onto his lap and pulled him in at the same time. "You may keep your robes, as the sight of your true beauty is mine alone as well, but I *will* have you." 

Impatient, impulsive, insolent. Any other Ainu would have felt Mairon's wrath for such audacity, Vala or not; but his beloved he would indulge. Letting himself fall so he could lie on Melkor's chest, he looked up at him through long eyelashes. 

"Take me then," he challenged, "show them that I am yours and you are mine."

"Be careful what you wish for. You might yet sing louder than they do."

"Make me."

And so it came to pass that even though the two lovers fell silent for a while as their lips met in a heated kiss, Mairon's song would eventually echo through the hall with such exuberance and ferocity that many turned their heads to behold the spectacle on their lord's throne and watched their feverish coupling. Blood-red robes pooled around his hips, concealing where their fánar met, but the force of Melkor's thrusts and his own frantic movements left little to the imagination. The fingers of their ringed hands remained intertwined as if to repeat the vows they had exchanged and sharp teeth and claw-like nails left marks on unblemished skin, like quiet, breathless whispers saying mine. 

Thanks for reading!

taglist: @angbangbaby @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-big-tits @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot

[bonny-kookoo]

Write more kitty!MC and doc!yoongi pretty please!! I love them so much

[Set prior to her illness, Take Care!AU, no angst just fluff]

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Yoo~ngi!" You sing towards him, as he sits close by on a bench in his backyard, while you swim around in the pool. He looks up to spot you leaning on the edge of it, your tail splashing around a bit behind you.

"Having fun?" He asks with gentle amusement, looking up from his phone as he locks it and places it on a table close by.

You nod, an impish grin on your lips as you push yourself out of the water- two piece swimming set dripping aiwht water, and he can't help but admire your beauty for a moment. He often sits on the side to watch you, just spend time with you, because it feels like you're recharging his soul simply by existing.

Though that moment of simple happiness is short-lived as he realizes your intentions.

"Dont you dare." He says, and you still giggle, hands behind your back as you slowly stalk towards him. "Darling please, I've got my phone in my pocket-" he tries to argue, but you shake your head.

"Its on the table, liar!" You laugh, before running at him- the doctor eagerly getting up to catch you instead, carrying your laughing body towards the edge of the pool.

"Yoongi no!" You laugh loudly, and he looks at you with fake innocence.

"What?" He wonders at you, holding your body like a bride. "Thought you loved water."

"I do-" you say, batting your eyelashes at him. "But I like being in your arms more~" you purr, wet tail slapping against his pants. Some people see you as nothing but something expensive to show off, considering your rather expensive and luxurious background- though that's not what you're at his side for.

There's more to you than your family tree. More than your exotic hybrid genes.

You've been tossed aside the moment you've been diagnosed with several health issues, a genetic mutation causing some white splotches to appear on your hybrid features, tail and ears a wild mix of colors instead of standardized patterns.

Yoongi had met you during a studying program years ago. You were nothing but a permanent resident at a care facility connected to the university - used as an example for piebaldism in hybrids and connected health issues, but nothing more, really.

But your soft, gentle yet playful nature had been what stood out to him the most. You didn't mind when he got a but sensitive whenever things didn't work out for him. You adjusted to him, showed your favoritism towards him open and honestly- so there was no surprise when he decided to first file in for fostering you.

Six months to get to know you. Six months to grow to love you. Six months that turned into permanent documents filed, a new house bought and moved into and made into a home.

He grins as he remembers the first few months. It didn't take him long to fall for you.

"Cute." He answers you, before he tilts his head a bit, letting you fall into the waters after all. Though he does end up caving in, losing his clothes down to his underwear to join you in the pool-

Just to kiss you, mostly, though you do get to enjoy the view as well.

[lizzygrantarchives]

GQ, October 6, 2011

The mysterious and much-debated singer discusses the phony controversy, coping with the hype, and where exactly she came from.

Lana Del Rey is tiny, and tucked into a heavy leather motorcycle jacket. She moves a tangle of dyed, amber hair from the right side of her head to the left, and back again. She looks away, then bats a weighty set of fake eyelashes. She’s wearing a silver and possibly diamond-encrusted crucifix. In person, Del Rey looks exactly like the pouty, mysterious chanteuse who caused such a commotion this summer with her song, the lush "Video Games." She also looks like a wide-eyed, fidgety 24-year-old woman. Which she is. Del Rey—AKA Lizzy Grant, her less exotic government name—is perceptive and confident, but she was nervous on the afternoon we spoke, in a booth at La Bottega, a restaurant in New York’s Maritime Hotel. That afternoon a conveyor belt of eager journalists, of which I was queued up, greeted her. While we spoke, she answered some questions with clarity and assertiveness, and others with squirms and hems and trailing sentences. She has a cartoonish Betty Boop snicker she will tack onto the end of a particularly cute response. She’s funny, but also exasperated. Occasionally, when tongue-tied, she’ll flap those lips of hers while exhaling, making the sound of a snorting horse.

It’s not hard to see why. Del Rey’s garnered a surprising—some have argued undeserved—amount of web fame in a short space of time. The video for "Video Games" was released on July 1 and she has since been positioned as everything from "the Kreayshawn of Indie" to the "the new singer music bloggers love to hate." The stakes are probably smaller than that, though not for any objective reason. Just a few years ago, Del Rey was still going by Lizzy Grant, singing her own songs to little acclaim in Williamsburg watering holes and small Lower East Side venues. She recorded an album with the well-regarded veteran producer David Kahne (The Strokes, Sugar Ray), but it languished, as debuts by unknown NYC jazz-pop singers often do. When it was released, no one cared and it was pulled from iTunes two and a half months later. Though Del Rey—a name refashioned with her management, but not an alter ego—has a flavor of the megabyte feel, she says she’s been at it too long for that. "I think people got really bored on the Internet," she says, explaining the torrent of think pieces. Del Rey—who ate strawberries, yogurt, and granola—and I spoke about the controversy surrounding her rise, her early days as a singer-songwriter in New York, and that pouty reputation.

You’ve had an intense few months. How are you acclimating to all the attention?

Some days are good, but some days are sort of tiring—but the good stuff is really good. Today is fine, everything is good. Sometimes I just feel nervous about what people are going to say, but the record’s beautiful, so that much is great.

Tell me about your hometown, Lake Placid.

I go back now to visit my grandma and grandpa, but it’s not really somewhere I’ve spent a lot of time, not since I was 14. It’s beautiful. It’s a vacation destination. Olympics. It’s small, 2,800 people [laughs] it’s very different from here.

Why did you leave at 14?

I went to boarding school. It was difficult.

To be away from your family?

Just sort of to, I don’t know, I was just trying to begin to imagine the future or whatever. It was difficult navigating my own way, I guess.

Did you have a sense of what you wanted to do?

I knew I wanted to do something creative. I didn’t think I’d have the luxury of doing something like that, because I didn’t know anyone who had pursued anything they really adored, but I had dreams for singing or writing. I wasn’t sure how to do it.

What were your parents like? What did they encourage?

Honesty and being a good person.

Did they have a sense you were creative?

Yes, definitely. I was a different sort of child, as half the children are. They are or they aren’t. I was in that category of being free-spirited [laughs]. I was always a singer, it was nothing anyone planned on me doing for real, because it’s an unusual thing. I was just sort of saying, even having modest ambitions to have a small career at singing, it’s still really difficult to do that. Everyone wants to sing or act or whatever, so...

When you left boarding school, you came to New York?

Yes, I went to college. At Fordham.

What’d you think of New York?

I didn’t live at school, I lived where I could and studied what I enjoyed studying. I took what I wanted from that education but was making my first record at the same time. I don’t know anyone from school. I was just leading a different life. I was really interested in writing and other things.

Were you a social person as a teenager?

I was social, just in a different way. I loved my teachers. I feel like kids can be hard to get along with sometimes and I don’t know anyone from my school I’ve been to. I’m sure they were nice.

You were never entrenched in the college lifestyle?

No.

Were you ostracized?

No, I didn’t feel ostracized. I just had different priorities. I was reading and writing. I was pursuing my own education [laughs] which paid off, I’ve learned so many different things.

What precipitated that first album?

I was doing open mic nights in the city with my guitar at Layla Lounge, Galapagos, where those places are open. Same place every girl singer was playing. One of many tragic Lower East side songstresses, oh dear! What must they think? And I met really nice people. Everyone in Brooklyn was doing a folk thing, and I was in that camp, singing sort of jazz. I entered a songwriting competition, I didn’t win, and one of the judges on the panel was an A&R man at a record label that had no other acts and I signed to them. We sent my demo out to five people and David Kahne got back to me that day, and said I think you’re amazing I want to start with you tomorrow. He was like my Harvard reach school, I couldn’t believe it. I was really excited. It was the first time anyone of any importance said I was good and I ran with that validation for a long time.

Were you having fun playing clubs?

It was daunting. I love to sing and I really love to write, but in terms of being onstage, I’m not that comfortable, which I think is sort of clear [sighs]. Um, so. I don’t remember what you said.

What did your parents think when this started to happen?

My parents were lovely. They’ve always been supportive. When you love your child, you don’t know what to do with someone who wants to do what no one else does successfully. If I had someone younger I loved, I’d be worried for them too if I didn’t have guidance to give them. I was never successful in a noteworthy way, no one wrote about me, and I didn’t have recognition. I’ve met a lot of musicians along the way who thought I was good, and they knew that was important to me. Having a simple career as a musician who liked music was good enough for me. They slowly came to understand that was going to be my future. It’s changed in the last three months. I don’t know what it means. It’s definitely different, though.

Did it change at all when you connected with David?

I thought it was going to be the beginning of everything, but my record was shelved for two and a half years. But because it was so dark, no one wanted to spend money on promoting it. After two and a half years, everyone came to the understanding that it wasn’t the project they thought it was. I was the only person on their roster, they signed me because they liked me. It was a passion project. Working with David, we thought good things were going to come. But just because you work with someone famous doesn’t mean you’re gonna be famous and no one wrote about that album. It was only out for two and a half months on iTunes. You would think it gave me a nice launching pad, but things stood still for a long time, until only for the last three or four months.

All the things that didn’t happen then are happening now.

It’s the weirdest thing. It’s not like I’m huge or anything but it’s still the strangest thing.

It’s a lot of attention.

It seems like that. It feels like that. I don’t really know what to do. But um...

Did you anticipate any of this?

No.

Obviously you made some choices that are different.

I’d say no. It’s what you do when it’s time for your second record. I’d written everything I wanted to write. I’d liked what I’d done, I’d liked my first record, it was autobiographical and beautiful. "Video Games" is a five-minute ballad with no instruments, it was a downscale from what I’d been doing with a fucking live orchestra. It was synthetic harps and no drums. It was a perfect melody for me, I thought it matched me. When people liked it, it was my least commercial song, it wasn’t even a song anyone wanted on the Internet. It was a baby.

What did that tell you?

Nothing. "Yayo" was perfect just like that. I’ve had a million songs like that. I had another creepy video to that song, too. It doesn’t tell me anything except that God is ridiculous. That’s all. It’s fascinating. Could it be the tipping point, where unbeknownst to me where so many hours of thinking and working came into play? I don’t know. Maybe I reached my 10,000. I don’t know. It’s very strange. [squeals]

You’ve become a lightning rod for a lot of conversations.

It could be about a bug. I don’t even do anything in real life. I just sit in my studio and write, I call my friends, I watch television. I don’t do anything. Write crazy stuff if you want to. I’ve been telling [my publicists], it has nothing to do with me. I mean, everything has nothing to do with me. I don’t know what they’re talking about. I don’t know what they’re talking about. Not like you care that much. You’re just writing the article.

I just haven’t seen something like this in a long time.

Are you being serious?

I wouldn’t be here talking to you if you hadn’t sparked a conversation.

I’ve been reading tabloids since I was nine. I love a good story. Some of the talking points took on a tone that really had nothing to do with me.

Obviously, the video is a talking point. And so is the name change.

It’s 2011, it’s not like I planned on erasing my history. I’ve been a pioneer of the Internet myself since a decade ago. I was just trying to create something sonically that I could aspire to. First of all, no one was even listening to me for ages, so I did whatever I wanted. I had no fans, the same bands I’ve talked to for five years, and all of a sudden, everything changed, and they were like, "You used to be like..." The point is, I know what I like and what to write about thematically and I have integrity in my musical choices and I’ve stuck to that and I think it’s a nice gift for me because I have stuck to my guns about what I want to hear sonically, so at least I’ve done that right. I’ve made the record I like. I haven’t even had that many interviews, so I don’t know where they get the stuff they’re getting. Not that I’m important or anything, it’s just that I don’t know. Curiosity is good. That’s what [my publicist] Marilyn says.

I’m curious about the aesthetic you’ve chosen. The video seems like a conscious choice to match feeling with sound.

If I had known as many people were going to see the video as they have, I would have made different choices. Seeing myself on the screen makes me cringe. I understand that I am that way, pouty. [Lana purses her lips] I think if that many people were going to see it, I would have made different choices.

Do you regret it?

Do I regret it? I believe nothing happens by mistake. You know, the universe has a divine plan. That sounds dramatic. So I guess I don’t regret it, but I can’t say I’m happy with it. I’m happy with other things in my life. The video wasn’t my finest moment. That’s fine. [laughs]

Is there a correction you want to make?

Yes, I’d love not to make my own videos anymore! Correction #1. Yes I’ve started that, and I’m so happy about it. Johan Renck, he’s perfect. He loves shooting with 35mm, he understands I love the richness and texture of film, he likes the same iconography and symbolism, he makes great choices, and thank God I don’t have to be like, in charge, sort of. I was sort of doing what I could with what I had at the time.

It’s amazing how impressions are born from that. It’s interesting to hear you tell the story the way you tell it. The perception is you’re a character, created and molded.

That’s not the case. I haven’t had any help for a very long time. It’s only recently. You have to understand, record labels don’t invest in people who are unknown. Do you know what A&R guys say to people now? "Come back to me when you’ve sold 1 million units." That’s the case, and I know because I know everything about it, you know. They don’t sign unknown acts. First of all, it’s an impossibility in the economic environment now. The funny thing is, when I signed to my new labels, I was so happy because I was going to have help. I have great ideas and everyone’s so on board. They like my videos and writing my own songs, and then all of a sudden, this fucking weird thing happens where everyone was like... I don’t know. Yeah. It’s interesting. I think people got really bored on the Internet.

Tell me about your relationship with movies.

I have kind of a funny relationship with movies. I don’t have to see the whole movie to get an impression of it or to let it have an influence on me.

A lot of people have been eager to draw the David Lynch connection.

They want to make that connection or make me that person. I just don’t lead a double life, so I’m not really like any of the characters. I sort of do what I say and say what I do which I’m happy with because it makes my life real easy. When I was younger, people would say that I was inspired by David Lynch, so I went and watched his stuff and I was surprised. I thought it was smart, with what I was trying to do lyrically. So I started watching some of his stuff. I’ve never seen his movies in [their] entirety, I’m more interested in him as a person and how he came to be successful taking an alternative route, sort of a subculture icon.

What can you tell me about the album? Does it have a title?

I think I’m going to call it the title of the next single, Born to Die.

That’s dramatic.

I know.

Where are you in the process now?

I think they’re all done, seven of the singles will be on the record. I have to think about the remaining tracks. It’s quite a big batch. The third single is my favorite, I fucking love it. I think it’s out late December or early January. That’s the one Johan’s going to work on the video with me.

I’m curious: Are you making a lot of money now?

I think I’m going to, but not yet.

I see "Video Games" showed up on The CW’s Ringer.

I only got $500 for each week, when "Kinda Outta Luck" was the promo for the Gossip Girl thing. $500 per week for four and a half weeks leading up to the series. It’s not about the money, it’s about the exposure. If they don’t have to show you, they won’t. If my team wants it to be on television, it will be on television. I have a limited control over where things are placed, because my team does that. Creatively I’m in charge, if I wasn’t, I would stop. If things continue to go the way they’re going, I’ll have money.

That’s good. That’s part of the goal.

Yeah. It’s nice not to live in fear. That’s part of the goal. Not being afraid of what’s happening to you.

Do you have any misgivings about songs being placed commercially?

I feel nervous about a lot of things, and that’s one of them. But you have to let go because it’s just...in the end, you focus on keeping the songs, the words, the production as good as you want it to be. The rest is all okay. [laughs]

What else makes you nervous, besides having these conversations?

That’s it. Everything else is really easy.

I assume other artists are calling you to collaborate.

That’s funny. I’m not collaborating with anyone. I have interest in it, just maybe not yet. The third single is the last part of my trilogy. This last song is sort of... I care about this one. That’s sort of it. [laughs] Oh, dear.

Who do you want to work with?

I don’t know. I really don’t.

Who do you look up to?

No one.

Do you feel like you’re making music to fill a void?

No. And don’t write that you think I am.

I won’t. What music do you listen to?

The same thing I’ve been listening to for a while. Nirvana, I’m always listening to them. I like Frank Sinatra, Elvis, I really like some of the film scores to my favorite movies.

You’re into icons.

Yes, I guess so. Like most people. It’s not like I think my art is inspirations from icons strung together. They’re just sort of people who others talk about. I am definitely interested in the masters of different genres, they’re talented and popular for a reason.

If you could have done anything differently, aside from the video, in the last three months, would you?

You always want people to be nice to you. So of course, the reception to be warm and nice, just like anyone else, you’d hope people would be loving towards you like you plan on being towards everyone else. I think I might have done something differently, but I’m not sure what it would have been. I don’t know how to do that.

Do you feel the weight of expectation?

Not really. I just don’t want everything to go terribly. I know the songs are good. I’m just not really sure what’s going to happen.

What would be success?

I already have it. I had it a long time ago. It’s nothing to do with my music. Music is secondary, at this point. The good stuff is really good, but I have success because I’m at peace and I’m a good person in my everyday life and that’s important.

Was it a struggle to get to that place?

A little bit. But that was a long time ago.

Does it make being creative easier?

Yes, because you’re not in trouble!

What was your version of trouble?

I don’t know.

You don’t know or you won’t say?

No, I don’t know. We were doing so well. [sighs]

I’m not trying to intrude. I’m just curious.

Yeah.

Is there a timetable for the album?

Yeah, we’re going to release it in March, but I think now it’s more like late January, so sooner than I thought but the songs are there.

Is that to capitalize on the moment?

From what I understand.

Originally published on gq.com with the headline Ice Breaker: Lana Del Rey.

[wiinestories]

Adelaide batted her long eyelashes at Eden, intrigued by the presence of a woman who seemed out of place among the affluent attendees. She could easily discern that Eden was neither from old money nor nouveau riche; she appeared to be a middle-class woman whom Angelo had perhaps plucked for a few days. Given her youth, Adelaide surmised that the purpose behind it all was for Angelo to feel rejuvenated while escorting a younger woman by his side. With a critical eye, Adelaide scrutinized Eden's outfit and features, silently assessing her appearance. While she couldn't deny Eden's beauty, it didn't meet Adelaide's own standards of elegance and refinement. Adelaide reached for the brunette's hand, offering a polite handshake with a faint hum of acknowledgment. She couldn't help but feel displeased by what she perceived as a cheap way of greeting someone; in Adelaide's world, greetings were given with a kiss on the cheek, a gesture of elegance and refinement

"I could say the same, Eden," Adelaide forced the words out through gritted teeth, masking her disdain as best she could. Despite her outward politeness, Adelaide couldn't help but feel a twinge of hypocrisy within herself. At Eden's compliment, a chuckle slipped from her as she briefly glanced towards Angelo. "That’s lovely from you, my dear, thank you. I get myself assessed by the best stylists in this country. I shall let them know of your compliment and, of course, avoid dismissing them. They’re doing an exquisite job, apparently." Adelaide hummed in delight, presuming on how she could afford such luxuries like stylists. Angelo's displeasure was evident in his furrowed brows, an expression that didn't go unnoticed by Adelaide. "What is it you do, Eden? Has Angelo told you about me?”

“This is her first event, Adelaide. I’ll make sure to give her insights on everything,” Angelo interjected, eager to redirect the conversation away from Adelaide. However, Adelaide was not deterred, maintaining her charm and elegance with every word. “Don’t be disrespectful, my dear. I’m merely asking the girl what she does for a living, and I can, of course, provide her with information about myself,” Adelaide retorted smoothly. At this point, Angelo was hoping for her husband to intervene and serve as a welcome distraction. “Eden, I own several luxury businesses responsible for distributing renowned fashion brands across my homeland, Australia. As a director, I often travel overseas to ensure smooth operations,” Adelaide continued, addressing Eden directly and offering insight into her professional endeavors, mainly to boost her ego. “Angelo here has been essential in ensuring that operations run smoothly in your country. He's truly a delight to work with,” Adelaide remarked, her gaze piercing as she addressed Eden directly. With her hands resting on her hips, Adelaide exuded an air of confidence and authority. “I advise you to keep this man on a leash otherwise, well … You’ve heard the saying about players in a field, I take it?”

Angelo subtly turned his head towards Eden, giving her a look that conveyed his frustration with Adelaide's behavior. He silently hoped that Eden wasn't paying too much attention to the other woman's words.

Cade was going to go absolutely insane when he found out what Eden was doing with Angelo, or that she really had any involvement with him at all. He'd really tried to treat her like a little sister since Ben passed.. he'd really done his best to be that level of support Ben had been and she did wonder if she served as some sort of comfort to him, because they looked so alike. They both had the same jet black hair, pale flesh, a contrast of moonlight in the night sky. She'd always been more thankful to be similar to her sibling and not her parents.

Thankfully it didn't seem Cade was at this party, she'd escaped that tonight but... maybe next time she wouldn't be so lucky, and Angelo had called this is a date so.. a Date it was. It was a subtle way he'd told her she'd be safe beside him but it gave her.. so much comfort, to know he was really going to make sure that these dangerous men didn't gobble her up. No, devouring her was a job reserved for Angelo. She'd always enjoy that possessiveness. "It's a project?" she asked and then her face changed to one of stun. "Angelo I don't... I don't have a passport." she'd never really needed one, traveling like that had seemed so.. out of her reach that she just didn't bother with a passport. "Plus how am I ever going to pay you back if I go swanning off to Spain with you?" she wanted to go with him, but she wanted to make it clear to him that she was evidently trying to get that money back, that she'd not forgot. She did seem more at ease in the garden though, not as many eyes watching them and the fresh air was nice. It made her want to lean more into him now the cold air brushed her exposed flesh.

"Negotiate with me. Spain with you, if you take a little chunk off, it makes it worth me paying my Supervisors extra to cover me not being there... and I'd get to enjoy that with you guilt free." she liked to throw that one out there now and then, negotiate with me, and she always fluttered her eyelashes up at him, wore her signature dimples and sweetheart smile to ask too. "I think that sounds fair, I'd even have to wear things that oh.. oh you'd love. Bikini's.. little sundresses.." the type that he'd able to push so effortlessly up to her waist.

That was when that voice chimed in and from the way she spoke, the way she acted... Eden knew that this women was going to be a problem. Not kicking up a fuss meant being polite so when it came to the introduction she extended her hand out with a wide grin. "Adelaide, it's really lovely to meet you." Eden could see she was being assessed, that she was being judged.. and that maybe, Adelaide did not like Eden being on Angelo's arm. It was tough, this is where she wanted to be, this is where she'd stay and if Adelaide wanted to get territorial about it? That was fine, Eden would play that game with her. Her hand still lingered there, waiting to be took, to be acknowledged. "i love your hair, such a pretty shade." she tried to compliment she really did, but she knew that Adelaide must have made her opinion up of her already. That she was probably too small, dark haired, that she could've been taller, prettier, that her dress was cheap in her eyes, that she didn't wear enough makeup, that her perfume was cheap, she could sense the judgement from the woman already, but Eden played naive and none-the-wiser, for Angelo. She'd ask about her though, when she'd left them alone.. she'd ask about Adelaide, about who she was to him. If she was his lover as present then she didn't really think their arrangement would continue very long. Especially since she felt a little inadequate compared to the older woman, adorned in riches, it twisted something in Eden because she knew, she couldn't match to that level, maybe even jealousy that she'd clearly caught Angelo's eye before where Eden knew she had just been.. convenient for him, easy for him.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

know ya

“nonsexual acts of intimacy” hc ig

gender neutral reader

prompt list

—finding you wearing their clothes

Vil prides himself immensely on his professionalism and his ability to control any obstacle that’s thrown at him. To the public, he’s cool and collected. He’s a model and a celebrity known to be out of everyone’s reach, with a smile that could instantly dazzle crowds and a cold demeanor that leaves everyone breathless. But what others don’t know is how much he dotes on you—you, with your humble beginnings and beautiful soul, who loves him with an open heart and warm hands. He loves seeing bits of himself in you, just as much as you love seeing yourself rub off on him.

He’s surprised to return from a long day of work and classes to find you twirling around in front of a mirror, with his luxurious purple Pomefiore robe draped around your arms and body. It doesn’t fit you perfectly, yet you waltz in front of you reflection with all the regality and perfection you’re used to seeing in Vil. Face raised, back straightened, and the most stellar smile you can conjure up: Vil can’t help but stand in his doorway and grin to himself as he watches you enjoy every inch of his uniform.

There’s an innocent charm to the way you light up at your reflection and twirl around to see how the long robes fly up and elegantly billow down. To some extent, it reminds Vil of when he was younger and how he’d steal some of his dad’s props and costumes to dress up in. You even take a minute to hold up some of the gold embroidery to the light and admire the detailed craftsmanship, clearly giving the gorgeous clothes the respect that they’re due. You’re no art expert by any means, but Vil appreciates that part of you that gives credit where credit is due.

You squeak and try to hide yourself when you notice Vil admiring you, but he insists that you continue doing whatever you were doing before he walked in. He likes this side of you that isn’t afraid of doing as you please, unabashedly celebrating your body and exploring your insatiable curiosity. Vil considers getting you a Pomefiore uniform of your own to parade around him, but he decides that he also doesn’t mind lending you some of his clothes for you to play around it. It looks adorable on you, and Vil wants nothing but to spoil you no matter what.

“Having fun, darling? No, no, don’t look so embarrassed. I thought you looked absolutely beautiful. Is there anything else in my wardrobe you’d like to try? Remember, this isn’t a privilege I extend to everyone...”

—sharing a dessert

Sweetness and Jade are two words that couldn’t be further apart from each other. Jade’s name is synonymous with murky intentions and deceit, yet you find yourself drawn to him, unable to resists the poisonous touches of the ambitious eel. Maybe it’s because he’s just the right amount of human to trustworthy, just the right amount of pleasure to offset the pain, just the right amount of romantic for you to come crawling back to him over and over. Today’s offering he has for you is a small dish of pudding, made by himself between the chaos of his Mostro Lounge shifts.

He insists on feeding you, holding up a bite of the sugary treat with a silver spoon. He holds a hand under your chin and coos for you to open your mouth, for you to be vulnerable and innocent and completely lovestruck with him, and he lets you enjoy the treat he’s prepared specially for you. The pudding melts across your tongue, and his culinary skills haven’t waned one bit at captivating your senses. It’s good, and you find yourself letting him feed you some more. 

You offer to feed him some too, not wanting him to go without enjoying his own cooking. Jade bats his eyelashes and looks at you with a look that could disarm anyone. You emulate his behavior and hold the spoon to his lips, admiring his sharp teeth and bloodthirsty eyes as you slip bites of pudding into his mouth. You wonder what it would taste like if you were to kiss him—secrets that could ruin anyone mixed in between the sweet taste of the quickly disappearing pudding.

But you don’t mind. It’s nice to take a change of pace with Jade and enjoy something that regular couples would do for once. He seems proud at his cooking and at the fact that you’ve enjoyed it immensely. It’s in quiet moments like these that you find it so hard to believe that Jade could ever hold such nefarious endgoals, but when he reminds you that nothing comes for free and that he expects you to repay him accordingly as lovers should, are you reminded yet again that his love runs deep with a greed unmatched.

“Did you enjoy the pudding, my dear? Fufu, there’s no need to be stingy with your praise. I’ve prepared it in the way I know you like it best. Now, don’t be shy. Say ‘ahhhhhhh’...”

—accidentally falling asleep together

Silver sometimes wonders what it might be like for him to have lead the conventionally “normal” life for a human like him. He would never trade the upbringing he had under Lilia and Malleus for anything else, but when he sees his fellow students and them chatting about their shared experiences, he wonders if he would have turned out any differently had he had a childhood like that. That’s why he’s taken so much with you: you don’t ever treat him like an outsider nor do you judge him for being different.

Silver trusts you wholeheartedly. If his loyalty to Malleus comes out of obligation and respect, his loyalty to you comes from a place of love and deep admiration. He feels so at ease around you, like he can spill every secret in his heart and do whatever makes him happy as long as you’re smiling at him and cheering him on. Silver feels less like a knight tied down to a serving role and more like a normal boy giggling with his significant other and getting into all sorts of teenager troubles.

He doesn’t mind nodding off whenever he’s with you. Your voice is soothing, and your touches are warm like the first rays of spring sunlight after a harsh winter. Your heartbeat is akin to the most welcoming lullaby he’s ever heart, and with a few breaths and slow cadences of your body, he finds himself relaxing and slowly drifting off to the land of dreams. Silver knows he’ll wake up in your arms without fail, and you’ll be there to welcome him back to the world of the living with a bright smile and a much-needed “sleep well?” 

The knight wakes up one day to find you asleep next to him. His heart swells with fondness when he realizes that you trust him enough to fall asleep alongside him, and he lets you lean against his side with your head on his shoulder. He admires every detail of your peaceful face, and he listens to the calming rhythm of your breathing as he meditates on how lucky he is to have fallen for someone as gracious and sweet as you. Silver can’t wait to be the one you wake up to, and he makes sure to wake you up with a gentle kiss and that endearing smile of his that you love so much.

“I guess we both fell asleep, huh? Not that I mind—you look cute when you’re sleeping. Not in a creepy way! I’m just glad that we can relax together.”

—taking a bath together

Trey is aware that he tends to take up the role of the caregiver in his dorm. It’s not an easy position to balance, but he recognizes that someone needs to be damage control for the rowdy dorm and that no one can balance Riddle’s high expectations and the troubles of the Heartslabyul students better than he can. But even Trey has his limits, and he finds it that he best unwinds after a stressful day whenever you’re around to help soothe all of his worries. Trey’s just a regular student too, and he sure as hell has his own stressors to work with.

Taking a bath with each other has proved to be effective, and it’s a great way for Trey to block out the outside world and spend some quality time with you. He also likes the way it loosens him up physically as well—he can cuddle you for as long as he wants to while the warm water works magic at lulling him into a relaxed state. Add a handful of frothy bubbles, maybe some calming background music, a few scented soaps, and Trey is practically on cloud nine with you snugly in between his arms and legs.

He’ll help wash you and play with your hands or your hair, all while you do the same to him. He likes it best whenever you rub your palms all over his face, either to clean his skin or just to mess with him. You look so happy, and the way your voice echoes around the tile walls reminds you of the way his heart would flutter whenever he heard your voice whenever he least expected it. Trey wishes he could soak in the warm water with you forever, with him letting you pamper him for hours on end or simply to listen to you babble on about whatever topic surfaces to your head.

Trey pats you down with a fluffy towel when all is said and done, and if he’s feeling up for it, he might even offer you a warm drink with a snack afterwards. If not, it’s straight to bed for the both of you—all fluffy and squeaky clean from the bath. Trey makes sure to hold you close and pepper you with kisses once the two of you are all bundled up and ready to sleep, eager to greet another busy day knowing that you’ll be there to both energize him and help him unwind. He doesn’t know where he’ll be without you, but now that he knows he has you, Trey’s ready to give it his all at managing his responsibilities.

“Hey, that tickles! You better not be doing that on purpose. Two can play at that game, you know... Better be careful when getting handsy, alright?”

x

[tom-whore-dleston]

Clearly he doesn’t want us to be over with the Oscars look 😩

So thot squad sent me this pic and, of course, it got me thinking...

In a Robe (Drip, Drip)

Genre: smut (lemon) with a lil fluff

Warnings: more pwp, sex on the table, morning/afternoon sex, spitting, handjob, sex while on the phone, Simu's BDE going 📈📈, creampie, Simu being a loving sugar daddy

Summary: If you thought you got a kick out of seeing Simu in his Versace robe, wait until he sees you in it. Pt. 2 of Versace on the Floor

Word Count: 1.3k

Beta Read: N/A

Notes: I know irl Simu had to haul ass back to Barbieland immediately after the Oscars bc baby always grindin his Simussy off. But I say fuck that noise bc our poor exhausted baby boy deserves a day off to regenerate by sleeping and fucking you even more lol. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed what you read 😊 Banners by @maysdigitalarts and dividers by @firefly-graphics

It's the morning after the Oscars (or afternoon because it's a given you and Simu fucked til the sun came up hehe). Simu was sound asleep and you had just woken up due to the soreness from last night's antics. Spotting the custom designed Versace robe sprawled out on a chair, you snuck away from Simu's tight embrace to engulf your naked body in the robe. You laughed at how it basically looked like a dress on you.

You tiptoed out of the room to fetch a glass of water. Problem was, you got lost in the luxury of the suite and forgot where they kept the glasses. Saying fuck it, you grabbed the wine glass with your lipstick stain from the coffee table to pour yourself some water. As you chugged the water like your life depended on it, Simu trailed out of the bedroom in just his boxers. He leaned against the doorframe with a smug look on his face.

"If I had known you would look so cute in my robe, I would've told Donatella to make you a personalized one," he commented, sizing you up. You turned towards his direction, almost letting the glass slip from your fingers at the sight of his delicious happy trail.

"Aww, you think I'm cute?" you questioned, batting your eyelashes and folding your hands in front of you. Simu grinned, walking towards you.

"More than that, baby," he responded, placing his hands on your hips. "You are absolutely beautiful!" He leaned in so his lips ever so slightly brushed against yours. "I bet you would look so beautiful in it while I fuck you over this table."

With that, Simu hoisted you up and slammed you on the dining table. It didn't take long for his mouth to smash onto yours, hands flying everywhere. He massaged your boobs through the robe, making you moan into his mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

"I want you, Daddy." You reached in between you and Simu to palm him through his boxers. He muttered a faint fuck, slightly tossing his head back.

"Go ahead, baby. Pull out Daddy's cock and make me nice and hard for that pretty pussy." You complied, stroking him until he was satisfied. He spat onto your pussy, rubbing the saliva all over with his cock. When Simu finally thrusted himself inside you, he didn't give you time to adjust before he was pounding into you like a madman.

"Fuck, you're so sexy getting fucked in my robe, honey!" Simu grunted, throwing one leg over his shoulder and spreading the other one to the side. "Love the way your pussy grips me. Feels so fucking good." His thumb swirled over your clit, pushing you closer to your edge.

All that is interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. It just so happened to be Simu's phone that was hiding in one of the robe pockets. You cursed in frustration, feeling yourself getting ripped from that blissful sensation as your boyfriend snatched the phone from the pocket. His mouth quirked into a devious grin upon reading the caller ID. He lifted a finger to his lips, indicating you to be quiet before answering the call.

"Donatella Versace!" Simu cheerfully exclaimed. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He resumed to fucking you while the famous designer chatted away from the other side of the phone. You sighed louder than you wanted to, unsure of whether it was because his strokes were slow but deep or the fact that he was still railing you while on the phone. His large hand immediately clasped over yours and he started thrusting deeper than he already was.

"Wow! Really? That's amazing!" His voice rose and eyes widened with excitement. You were too stimulated by his throbbing cock to wonder why he was so giddy all of a sudden. Rolling your eyes to the back of your head, you hummed into his hand as the tip grazed your G-spot.

"Thank you again! I know she's gonna love it."

Whump! Whump!

"Alrighty, buh-bye!" Simu hung up and tossed his phone behind him. He pinned your hips to the table, pistoning in and out of you at an animalistic speed. You arched your back off the surface, allowing your cries to freely fall from your lips.

"Oh my god, Daddyyyy!" You gripped his wrists for support, digging your nails into his skin. "Keep fucking me like that. You're gonna make me cum." Simu trailed butterfly kisses down your leg that draped over his shoulder.

"Yes, honey. Take my cock just like that. Wanna see you play with that pussy for me."

Your hand flew to your swollen bud to violently rub circles around it. Simu's eyebrows knitted together as his pumps became sporadic and desperate. The way he whined your name brought you right to the edge. He pushed himself all the way in until his balls tapped your ass, making you both wail in pleasure as you were finally met with that sweet euphoria. He painted your walls with his warm cum as he stooped down to lazily French kiss you. A few moments later, Simu gently pulled out of you, helping you to your feet.

"Go get ready, honey baby. Ms. Versace will be over in a few minutes and we wanna look presentable, yeah?" Before you could ask any questions, Simu dragged you to the bedroom.

"No time for questions. I'll tell you about it later, okay?"

Half an hour later, you and Simu were now dressed in the casual clothing you packed. You laid your head in his lap as he combed your hair with his fingers.

"So, are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

A knock sounded on the door before Simu had the chance to answer. You both jumped up to welcome Madame Versace at the door.

"Good to see you both, again!" She greeted, giving you both kisses on the cheek. Donatella gave you a once over before holding your hands in a motherly way.

"You, my darling, are so beautiful!" Your cheeks warmed up as you bashfully thanked her. Her assistant walked in holding a gift box with the Versace labeled across it. She took the box from her assistant and handed it to you.

"Oh, Ms. Versace, you sh-"

"Actually, Simu was the one who requested this for you." You looked over at Simu in confusion. He simply nodded and smiled, waiting for you to open the box. As you did, your face dropped in shock as you pulled out a robe that was almost identical to the one Simu had. Tears welled up in your eyes when you saw your name stitched into the back of the robe.

"Oh my god! I-I'm speechless!" To say you were overwhelmed with emotion would have been an understatement.

You turned to Simu, "Wait, earlier, you said-"

"While you were getting ready for the Oscars, Simu made it imperative that I make a robe for you," Donatella responded. "Something about how cute you would look in it and you both would be a power couple. I couldn't possibly say no to my favorite superhero." Her comment made Simu giggle. "Now enough chatting, try it on! I must see my power couple in action."

You threw the robe over your clothes as Simu did the same. He bit his lip as he scanned you with his eyes. Before you knew it, you were both having an impromptu photoshoot in your suite while wearing your matching robes.

While posing for a picture, Simu leaned into your ear. "I was right, you do look beautiful in this robe. But I'm more interested in taking it off of you after our guests leave."

As much of a teasing little shit Simu was, you were extremely fortunate to have landed someone who was so in love with you and would do anything for your happiness.

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Simu Liu Masterlist | Honey Baby AU

[lordabovehelpme]

Lipstick Stain - Din Djarin x Reader

A/n: So this is a little thought I had the other night and just had to write about. I hope you all like it!

Summary: Who knew chapstick could smudge on beskar?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three of you are on the way to Nevarro, Din needing to turn some quarries in, and you missing the luxury of fresh groceries.

You’re sitting down on the seat to his right, Grogu in your arms. His little hands are up in the air as your husband takes extra turns and spins.

“Almost there.” He looks over his shoulder to the two of you, helmet off and grinning wide. Smiling back, you nod, applying chapstick to your lips.

Finally the Crest reaches ground and you both sigh. Your husband grabs his helmet, but before he brings it to his head, he looks at you expectantly. Knowing exactly what he wants, you set the child down and climb over onto his lap. You meet his beautiful brown eyes and press a kiss to his lips.

Taking his helmet into your own hands, you lift it above his mop of curls and let it slide down, covering his face. You cup his head with your hands and press a kiss to the metal covering him.

Leaning back, you gasp.

Right there on the forehead of his helmet, is the glossy mark of your lips.

Biting back a giggle, you leave it and walk away.

“What?” He asks while picking the child up and following you.

“Oh nothing.”

“You gasped, why?”

The mark of your lips is even more noticeable in the bright light of day. You have to bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from breaking out into laughter. “I just forgot how handsome you are in that bucket.”

That commnet earns you a pinch to your bottom. You let your laughter flood the ship and out the open hatch, not only from his lingering touch but your obvious claim on him.

As the day goes on and you walk through the town, the mark stays on the usually polished armor. However, you’ve added a few. One rests on the sunken cheek of his helmet and another on his left pec. You grin every time that someone's eyes lock onto the marks and then move to look at you. Lot’s of old women have winked at you with their devilish smirks and youthful thoughts.

It’s starting to become a habit, everytime you apply chapstick you wait a minute, so the mandalorian doesn't catch on to your scheme, and then press a new mark to his armor. But the one on the middle of his forehead, the first one, stays strong and apparent.

The three of you walk over to where Greef is, Grogu happily in your arms and your husband behind you, his hands resting on the small of your back. The hand doesn’t lead you to make you move certain directions, but rather reminds you that you’re safe and your knight is right behind you.

The small cantina is lively with bounty hunters, they laugh loudly at one another's stories. But as the mandalorian walks in, his presence fills up the room becoming suffocating, they simmer down to only faint conversations.

“Ah Mando!” Greef calls from his booth. “Glad to see you buddy!”

Your husband nods at some hunters, before leading you to the booth. At the sight of him sitting down, the hunters go back to their energetic gossip. You slide in next to him and Grogu stays sat on your lap.

“Hey little babe!” Greef waves his fingers at the child and in response he coos. “And hello little lady, you look lovely as always.” He finally looks at the mandalorian and notices your marks. He chuckles and points at him. “Ah ha ha ha, love the new look there Mando.” He winks but starts to talk about business.

Din’s head tilts slightly at his comment, the telltale sign of his confusion. Albeit, he shakes it off and dives right into the conversation.

You squeak when a hand lands on your shoulder, turning to see who owns it. Cara smirks down at you before sitting down across from you. Your husband's hand squeezes your knee under the table as you sigh in relief at the sight of your friend.

Greef and Din converse back and forth about different bounties and hunters. You offer bits of information when appropriate but you're happy enough to sit back and listen to the gruff rumble of your husband's voice.

But what really takes the cake is when Cara’s eyes lock onto the mark on his forehead and then slowly turn to look at you. She smirks and winks at you. Smiling, you giggle as she utters “nice job.”

You offer a quiet but proud “thank you.” At the sound of your voice, your husband turns to look at you. The hand on your knee slides up and down your thigh, he hums, his way of asking you what's wrong. You meet his visor and dismiss him. “It’s nothing.” Patting his hand, you turn back to Greef and Cara and resume the chat.

***

After a long day of grocery shopping and quarry submitting, you finally make it back to the Crest. The child is fast asleep in your arms, having succumbed to his slumber a few hours ago. As the hatch closes your husband softly informs you that he’ll be in the cockpit, his fingers rub at the side of your face as he leaves to climb up the ladder.

You place Grogu in his hammock above your shared cot, and press a kiss to his wrinkly forehead. He coos in his sleep and a faint smile works its way onto your face. Warmth spreads through your chest as you gleem at the sight.

A few minutes later, you pull yourself away from the little bundle of love and climb up the ladder. The mandalorian presses buttons and flips switches as he engages the needed security for the night and checks the vitals of the ship.

“Hey handsome.” You plop down onto the copilot seat and smile at him.

“Hello mesh’la.” He looks over his shoulder at you. The mark of your lips is still discernible.

“Take that bucket off for me. I want to see your face. It’s been a long day and I need my medicine.” He chuckles as you bat your eyelashes at him.

You watch as he slides the helmet off and brings it into his lap. His motions stop though, obviously learning what his new look truly was. Anxiety washes through your bloodstream as you await his response. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.

Slowly, he turns to look at you. Although he doesn’t say anything. He pats his thigh, beckoning you to his lap. You follow the silent command and sit across his legs.

He brushes your hair away from your neck and you gasp as he quickly leans in and attaches to your neck.

“Din! What are you doing?” His hands hold you still as he bites and sucks at your skin.

“Leaving my mark just as you left yours.”

Your heart seems to have jumped out of your skin at his blunt reply. But you can’t deny the excitement that sends shocks down your spine.

***

The three of you walk back towards Cara and Greef. But as you approach you notice the strong smirk Cara holds. She raises her eyebrows at you and makes a short wolf whistle.

Greef lets out a hearty laugh. “Love the new look there!”

Heat rises to your cheeks and it feels like the multiple marks on your neck have started to burn. Although, in your embarrassed shrinking, you don't miss the way the mandalorians chest puffs out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well I hope you all liked it! I was giggling the whole time wiritng this. I promise I’m back to writing requests, I just coundn’t not write this.

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment, I love hearing what you all have to say. It really makes my day!

Love you all, Lordy :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots​ @along-the-lines-of-space​ @jedi-jesi​ @coldlilheart​@remmysbounty​ @t3a-bag​​

If you want to be added/removed from my taglist- just give me a holler and I’ll happly do it! :)

[shirophantomvox]

“Exhausted” Hisoka x Female Reader

Hello anon! Thank you for this request! If you all did not know, I am celebrating my 100 follower goal! Click this link to view the prompts and rules. If you are interested, send me an ask and please note that this event will end on July 15th. Again, thank you for the feedback and awesome support. Let’s get into the story! I know I said I was going to start on Monday, but since I had some free time, I began today! FYI, the tumblr app needs to be updated. I cannot stand it that you cannot title your posts on the mobile app. Please fix this immediately, Tumblr.

Word Count: 1385

♠ ♣ ♠ ♣

“I wonder if I can make it to the doorstep without falling out…”

Waves of invisible heat floated in front and above your windshield as the radiation from the sun made it worse. To your luck, the air condition on your car had gone out and because of the horrific car insurance rates in Yorknew, it was almost impossible to get it fixed. The heat worked but the A/C did not. How stupid, right? The world has been engineered that to make a stable living you have to work for nearly 40-50 years and then retire but with how the country is right now, you may not see retirement. All of these intrusive thoughts caused your brows to press angrily against your eyes as the heat made you sweat more and more. Droplets of water dripped from your forehead while your underarms smelt like the insides of a man’s underwear. Life was beginning to drag. Mr. (m/n), your manager, had assigned you to interview several people in and outside of your neighborhood about switching to your car company and applying for discounted insurance. That’s odd. Why can’t you, the worker, have discounted insurance for the company you work for?

Working for 48 hours non-stop almost drove you insane. As you approached a familiar street, your eyelids began to close.

“Maybe if I close my eyes for a second, I will be able to make it inside…”

For a brief second, the thought of your incredible, quirky husband popped into your mind. His “Kiss the Cook” apron was tied firmly against his bare waist. Cooking without a shirt on was quite idiotic but he felt as if it freed him from being restricted. One time he surprised you on a night with just the apron on, exposing his bare behind. His red wavy hair would fall behind his ear and down the back of his neck. His bangs were slightly curled in front of his face. Without making a single sound, he’d scoop you into his arms, make growling noises, and playfully throw you in the bed. A slight blush was painted on his freckled cheeks. This was his idea of being passionate, as every man has their own definition of the word. The sound of his deep, soothing voice made you smile indescribably.

“Ah, y/n! How was work, my dear-♠?”

There have been several instances where you have been exhausted but burdening your husband was something you didn’t want to partake in but still he wouldn’t mind if you had to vent for an hour or two. A loud blaring horn tore you from your 1 second day dream. A turning car was almost hit as you reached the intersection.

“Watch it, asshole!”

Well, now it's time to speed home.

It felt like the gray cloud over your head would not ever disappear until you pulled into your driveway. The grass had been freshly cut, flowers were being watered by the sprinkler, and the arch way of the front door had been painted. The sight of your wonderful lawn placed a large smile on your face. Taking a break from such a terrible week from work was needed and to see that you didn’t have to do any work around the house made you feel better. Before you could touch the front of the door, it flew open and you fell. Thank God you were caught by a pair of long, freckled arms because if you hadn’t, the tiles would have left many nasty marks on your face.

Your face was smothered in between his pecs. This was a normal occurrence. Since no one was in the house, he’d often walk around in his boxers cleaning, planting, or whatever he felt like doing. He placed his rather large hands under your arms and lifted you straight up so you could look him in the eye. His left thumb gently gripped your chin, his index finger underneath it.

“Welcome home, kitten. You seem to be tired-♠.”

Your eyelids began to flutter again as sleep was the only thing on your mind. Breaking away from his grasp, you placed your laptop bag on the couch and proceeded to the kitchen. Hisoka was silent for a second, puzzled as to why you did not give him a kiss. That was very unusual for you. He came running behind you like a lost puppy with his hands out ready to grab your shoulder.

“Is something the matter, y/n-♠?”

Slowly turning around, you sigh and fake a smile. Your eyes were still closed and the gray cloud seemed to reappear. Hisoka began to walk forward and sat down on your shared bed. Hiding your true feelings is a luxury you could not afford. Prepared or not, it was time Hisoka knew how you truly felt. At times he could be as stubborn as a mule but there were times where he was more endearing and understanding. Hisoka, again, placed his left thumb on your chin, a few inches from your lips, and looked deep into your weary eyes.

“Honestly, I am very tired. I’m exhausted. I think I am going to sleep for the rest of the day if you don’t mind.”

Hisoka smiled somberly. He had planned on going to the city's carnival with you but he’d have to miss out this time around. He didn’t want to go alone because he did not want to deal with fangirls and boys screaming and worshipping his godly figure. Although it fed his ego, he rather not deal with people who couldn’t take a hint.

The sweat from your face ruined your makeup. The mascara began to drip, you could see patches of your natural skin tone look much different than your foundation, and your lipstick was a little misplaced. Noticing Hisoka’s sad smile, you frowned.

“You see? I’ve made him sad,” you thought.

“Hisoka, I’m sorry for upsetting you with my troubles.”

Hisoka scoffed at your reaching assumption. He was a man that went through much worse pain than a little complaint nonetheless from the woman he loved.

“I’m not upset. Not in the slightest.-♠”

“Well, why do you look so disappointed?”

Hisoka smiled his usual smile while turning his head slightly to the left. He chuckled at your obliviousness. He took his right hand and placed it behind your neck. His piercing golden eyes nearly tore a hole in your soul. With the combination of his beautiful eyes, extended pecs, shaped torso, and smooth voice, you were destined to melt into your bed finally being able to sleep next to this hunk of a man. His long eyelashes batted a few times as he began to answer your question.

“How could you walk in here without giving me some sugar-♠?” His voice sent chills down your spine, causing you to voice a shiver involuntarily.

Your eyelids shot open and nearly squirmed when your eyes met his. For some reason, you stumbled to answer but managed to eventually mutter out a response.

“I-I’m sorry. I am so tired and I almost got into a c—-“

Hisoka’s lips crashed against yours. His moist lips positioned themselves in a way that if you kept yours straight, it would fit in perfectly. His right hand was placed on your lower cheek and jaw lifting your head just a tad more. His nose brushed against yours, causing you to smile just a little. Then again, Hisoka was so concerned about kissing you that he didn’t bother with asking what made you so tired and unhappy. He always thought physical contact would take your mind off of what was bothering you and it did temporarily but not entirely. Venting is what you needed and then maybe a kissing session would end the night off better. Breaking away, he looked into your eyes one more time before standing you up and proceeding to the kitchen.

“Now I have a question for you. What has been bothering you? I have all the time in the world-♠.”

-Fin

[holybibly]

Hello my favorite bunnies. I won't let you relax for a minute.

These are my unholy thoughts

The Park twins were definitely something very special.

When you first met Seonghwa, it was hard to believe that he could be the twin brother of someone like Hwaseong, and vice versa.

They were the hottest topic in the office, and as the children of the CEO of the company you were working at, they were frequently spotted around the office.

Seonghwa was the cutest person on the planet. God, you could have sworn there was an angelic halo around his pretty head, and those big innocent eyes… Damn it, all you wanted to do was ruin him. There was something so sweet about him that it made your teeth ache with the desire to sink into that delicious caramel skin of his.

At the same time, Hwaseong was his complete opposite - brash, belligerent and vulgar to the point of disgusting, you couldn't be around him for more than a minute without your panties getting uncomfortably wet. And unlike Seonghwa, you were desperate for Hwaseong to destroy you.

You never thought that you would be in the middle of it when the boys started their internship at the company. Mr. Pak was personal request that you take care of them and help them in any way possible.

And as it turned out, "all their affairs" also included the satisfaction of their insatiable libido.

It was a bit of a push-pull for you three. The desire to push Seonghwa into a dark closet and show him what heavenly blowjob meant became stronger and stronger. Especially when he looked at you with those sparkling eyes and batted his long eyelashes.

At the same time, you wanted to smother that arrogant bitch face of Hwaseong with your own pussy. The whole situation made you feel as if you were between heaven and hell at the same time.

Neither of you dared to make the first move, despite the intense tension and the almost painful sexual desire between you.

Everything changed at a company dinner. Seonghwa was lightweight and quickly got drunk, getting clingy and overly tactile with you, while Hwaseong seemed to get even cockier, starting to touch you unprofessionally and not innocently.

You had to drive them home before Hwasung performed a striptease on the table. God, he was literally five minutes away from taking his clothes off. And Seonghwa started to whimper about how much he wanted to go home to his soft bed. The boy was literally the sweetest creature that could have ever existed in the world.

But you were a damn fool to fall for their blandishments and take them home. And you were an even bigger fool to think that they believed that their typical behaviour characterised them in the bedroom.

Things did not turn out as you had hoped when Seonghwa literally fucked the life out of you in the middle of the hallway of their luxurious penthouse and Hwaseong obediently sucked your fingers while waiting for his turn. The huge innocent eyes were black as night and full of lust, while the bold lips that had curved into a devilish grin had become soft and gentel.

The night was going to be long, exhausting and hot, judging by the eagerness with which they tried to get enough of you. Biting, licking, kissing, scratching and fucking you as if their lives depended on it. For you, the morning came just as suddenly as the change in their behaviour last night, but what drove you even crazier was how gentle Seonghwa was with you again, and the way that annoying arrogance once again coloured Hwaseong's beautiful features.

Anyway, you were right about one thing - the Park twins really were something special.

[sooibian]

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Pairing: Kyungsoo x fem!Reader ft. big brother Junmyeon, arch enemy Sehun

Genre/Themes: Established Relationship AU, Fluff, Crack, Loosely inspired by the anime Horimiya

Warnings: Sexual themes, themes of sadism and masochism (nothing explicit), slight swearing.

Description: It’s Sehun’s wedding party. Kyungsoo knew these couple of hours with you were going to be anything but pleasant, however, he didn’t expect things to spiral so quickly. 

A/N: Thank you @his-mochi-cheeks​ for encouraging me to upload this. Shy tagging my closeted dandanies @vampwrrr​ and @changshapatrol​​ since this one sparked joy.

Word count: 2.7k

*****************************************

To Kyungsoo, the best thing about weddings was the feast but since you sat sulkily sipping on green juice - whatever the fuck that monstrosity was made of - he couldn't muster the courage to gorge on bulgogi and galbi in front of you. Especially not since it was a "your side of the family" wedding and your big brother Junmyeon wouldn't quit looking at him as if he were a ticking time bomb.

He’d gone out with you for five years before finally asking you to marry him four years ago. As much as he tried, Kyungsoo failed to make peace with the fact that Junmyeon still hadn't warmed up to him. Kyungsoo firmly believed in cause and effect and he just couldn’t tell when and how he’d faltered to warrant such iciness from Junmyeon. Events like these made his thoughts tread deeper into the “where did I go wrong?” labyrinth with no escape in sight.

Kyungsoo’s stomach growled, the proximity to the buffet area wasn’t helping. He stupidly slapped a hand on it as if to stop the sound from reaching you but despite the loud music and raucous conversations, you noticed. So you offered him a sip of the disgusting green gloop which he politely declined.

Shrugging, you sing-songed mindlessly, "Oof the barbecue stall sure looks inviting."

He suspiciously studied the ever so slight movements in your features, every microexpression and chose the safest response of taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, and planting a soft kiss between your knuckles - conscious of the fact that he’d have to tolerate the hunger pangs for just a bit longer. He was dead sure you’d ask him to stop at a McDonald's on your two hour drive back home. None of these green gloop diets have lasted over twelve hours.

Resting his chin in his hand, Kyungsoo peered over his glasses and looked around the luxuriously and aesthetically decorated lawn. In front of the gazebo Oh Sehun and his bride slow-danced to a song he couldn’t recognise. Sehun's hand mischievously slipped down his bride's waist and she teasingly punched his chest in response. She giggled and swayed in his arms as Sehun looked into her eyes with all the love glimmering in his own. Thinking back to his own wedding day, Kyungsoo smiled to himself and planted yet another kiss on your hand. Features contorted by the nasty taste of the juice, to him you still looked just as radiant as you did on your wedding day. In the moment he wanted nothing more than to join the couples on the dance floor, wrap his arms around your waist, and sway to the rhythm of the romantic, soft beats.

So he turned to you and asked enthusiastically, “Lets dance?”

“Kyungsoo - ,” pinching the bridge of your nose, you only reacted with a scowl.

Your damp response instantly soured his expression. “Come on! Don’t be such a sourpuss!” He exclaimed, tugging at your arm.

Kyungsoo observed keenly as your gaze reluctantly turned to a euphoric Sehun. Through gritted teeth, you justified, “It’s my arch-nemesis’ wedding. What do you expect?”

Junmyeon was the Academic Director of Museum Studies at Seoul National University and Sehun was his favourite student, almost like a younger brother to him and as his biological sister, you somehow felt threatened by their relationship. Over the years, your insecurity had manifested in the way of an inexplicable resentment towards Sehun.

“Why did we even come, then?” Kyungsoo reasoned.

“To avoid having to listen to Junmyeon whinging and whining for an eternity,” you dead-panned.

“You mean the way I’ve been tolerating your whining ever since we received the wedding invite?” Kyungsoo grumbled.

Wagging your finger at him, you said, “That’s a low blow, Kyungsoo.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kyungsoo pursed his lips and continued arguing with you, “Who even brings their own meal to a goddamn wedding?”

You rolled your eyes before listlessly scrolling through your phone. Kyungsoo understood exactly what you were upto. While you didn’t want anybody to fault you for skipping the wedding, you needed to make it known to everyone present that you were here merely out of courtesy.

On the other hand, Kyungsoo was quite fond of Sehun. The guy was fun and even-tempered and Kyungsoo truly admired people who were uncomplicated, people with whom he could freely speak his mind. It’s why he fell in love with you in the first place and stayed in love...despite all of your pettiness and quirks. Quirks that made Kyungsoo shake in his boots. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pushed those thoughts out of his head and heaved a sigh of relief upon realizing that your eccentricity wouldn’t rear its ugly head at a family celebration.

He was jolted out of his reverie by Junmyeon who slammed a plate of dakgalbi in front of him. Kyungsoo immediately shoved his phone into an inside pocket of his blazer, inwardly reprimanding himself for behaving all the more suspiciously in front of your elder brother.

Squinting sceptically, Junmyeon remarked, “I didn’t see you at the buffet -”

“Ah - we’ve been meaning to -” Kyungsoo tried explaining the situation without having to put you in a spot. He thought, after an uncomfortably long pause, Junmyeon would drop the conversation, but he didn't. Kyungsoo gingerly ran his fingers over his brows to check if Junmyeon's intense glare had burned holes into his head. You on the other hand had your gaze fixed on your phone and didn’t break character even for a second - not even to help your husband out of an awkward conversation. So Kyungsoo picked up a pair of chopsticks to help himself to a piece of dakgalbi but Junmyeon slapped his hand away and snarled, “Ladies first.”

"O-of course," Kyungsoo stuttered, pushing the plate towards you.

"I don't wanna eat," you answered the two men, eyes now on a blank screen. Left with no choice, Kyungsoo slowly and sadly put his chopsticks down, his stomach making its annoyance known, while Junmyeon started to nag you for acting 'uppity as usual'.

Your show of indifference when Junmyeon animatedly whisper-scolded you, had started to make Kyungsoo anxious. The moment he tried to excuse himself to the bathroom, he felt your bare foot on his shoe and he froze into a still frame.

Kyungsoo shook his head at you and mouthed, 'Not now!' but you merely shot him a sweet smile in response.

"Are you even listening to me?" Junmyeon lambasted you.

"No and I haven't been listening for quite sometime now." Your reply sent a chill down Kyungsoo's spine. He was feeling a lot of things...all at once and with your toes boldly riding up his shin, he thought he'd burst at the seams. He made a mental note to have certain ground rules in place for situations like these - you weren’t much of a listener but this time he was sure to make himself heard.

"You won't be eating either?" Junmyeon asked Kyungsoo, shooting him yet another indignant glare. Kyungsoo smoothly moved his chair out of your reach but just as he extended his hand towards the plate, Junmyeon huffed angrily and walked away with it and Kyungsoo felt his heart sink to his stomach.

Tormenting Kyungsoo with a game of footsie for a while, you excused yourself to the ladies room. Ten minutes later, his phone chimed with a text from you.

'Can you come and get me? I think I'm lost.'

'No.' He replied. He was determined to not walk into your trap.

Kyungsoo clearly remembers the first time he was introduced to that side of your personality. Freshman year - it had been a few months since he'd asked you out. One evening, when things had gotten hot and heavy between the two of you, he had heard you say, 'Slap me, Soo.'

At first he thought he'd heard wrong so he ignored you but you said it again causing him to immediately pull away. Aghast, he asked, 'What did you say?'

'Slap me,' you blinked at him.

He intently studied your face - the most beautiful and the least punchable face he'd ever laid his eyes on. He wanted to do many things to you and all of them essentially involved making you feel loved and cherished and what you were asking of him was the exact opposite of how he felt about you. 

Eyes wide and lips pursed, you stood for a reaction but he would give you none. 

'Don't you love me?' You asked softly, batting your eyelashes at him. Little did you know, in that moment, he was too numb and too naked to make sense of the situation. 

At first he faulted his own personality. Kyungsoo was known to have picked a few fights here and there, had multiple piercings, and visible tattoos. Over the years, he got rid of it all and started dressing preppy but nothing changed. You still continued to ask of him something he was unwilling to give. So after a few ups and downs in your relationship, Kyungsoo finally reconciled with the fact that you were something of a sadist masochist only when it came to him.

His phone buzzed with your reply: 'The gardens at this hotel are ginormous. There's no staff here, I don't know how to find stupid lanky boy's stupid wedding party. I'm waiting by the restroom area please come and get me? ❤️'

Kyungsoo knew that you were directionally challenged. He'd test you at random and you could never tell left from right. Also, the lawn did sprawl over a considerable area but something just didn't feel right. Chewing on a hangnail, Kyungsoo sat thinking of a fitting reply only to receive another text from you.

A tempting one.

'If you come and get me now, we'll get out of here directly. No need to go back to the party.'

'What about your brother?' Asked Kyungsoo.

His phone blinked with a 'Pfft 🤪'

Patiently, he reiterated, 'I asked, what about your brother?'

'I promise I'll deal…'

'....?'

'Nicely 😘'

'Ok ❤️'

.

.

.

Kyungsoo gaped at you while you twirled his tie between your fingers and pleaded with him in a sultry voice, "Just once? Please?"

He was well aware that you knew for a fact he couldn't refuse you. Nevertheless, this time he firmly held his ground, "Are you crazy? Your entire family, your brother is just a couple metre's distance from here!"

"Kyungsoo please?" You caged him between a grainy concrete wall and your torso. The only respite to Kyungsoo in that situation was the fact that the area was poorly lit and there was not a soul in sight.

He cupped your face in his hands, planted a chaste kiss on your forehead and crouched down to whisper against your lips, "I'm not - I'm not sla- I'm not doing any of that here. Let's go home." After a lot of struggle, he finally managed to free himself from your Senior Superintendent General of Police grasp with a smirk on his face that said all your police training got nothing on him.

"Let's go," he held your hand and took a long stride towards the exit but you stayed firmly rooted to your place.

"Drag me out of here, then," you commanded.

You didn't budge and Kyungsoo wouldn't have caved under any other circumstance but…. he was hungry. Really hungry - making his stiff spine melt like candle wax. So he steeled himself, looked into your eyes, dropped his tone to a gruff, husky tenor, grabbed your wrist a little too tightly and threatened you, "Move your ass, __. Don't make me tell you again."

Exasperated, he rolled his eyes at the way yours twinkled at his crass behaviour.

"Gimme more," you said breathily.

The only way to get out of here was to stay in character so Kyungsoo did exactly that. He roughly pushed you against a wall (as gently as he could if it makes sense) and growled, "What makes you think you can act all buddy buddy with me, you ditz!" but before he could go any further he heard a man's voice yell, "How dare you!?"

Startled like a deer caught in headlights - in this case the flashlight of Junmyeon's latest iPhone - Kyungsoo turned around to find the brawny man leaping at him in attack mode at full throttle. Kyungsoo ducked, anticipating a heavy physical impact but it didn't come. He opened his eyes to you tackling Junmyeon to the ground and scolding him, "How dare you encroach upon our privacy and attack my husband!" while twisting his arm at every emphasis.

Very rarely was Kyungsoo grateful about the fact that you were a cop and this was one such occasion. He quickly moved to get you off of Junmyeon's back while the man cried out in pain, defending himself, "Pri-privacy? This is a bloody public place!"

Panting, you eventually let go of Junmyeon, fixed your hair and earrings and straightened your satin silk very pale pink dress (one that was almost white under the wrong lighting but despite Kyungsoo's repeated requests, you ended up in white at a wedding). But as soon as Junmyeon regained composure, he lunged to attack Kyungsoo again, screaming, "I always knew that there was something off about you!"

"Yah yah yahhhh!" You held Junmyeon back like you would do a violent criminal as Kyungsoo ducked again out of fear.

"Enough!" You shrieked at Junmyeon.

Kyungsoo's big brown eyes were fixed on your brother's terrifying demeanour as he barked, "I can't believe you're scolding me after what I just witnessed! That man, that man was hurting you!"

"That man? Better watch your tone Oppa, he's my husband!"

"You can't be that blinded by love or...whatever this is! Does he have something on you? You can tell me! You know I know all the right people to get you out of this mess -"

"Hyungnim -" Kyungsoo attempted to defuse the extremely tense situation but stopped short as you held your hand up at him.

"For heaven's sake, I'm happy, healthy, and safe in my marriage. That's all you need to know. Now go back to your baby brother's celebration and leave us alone!" Hand on your hip, you squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"I'm not going anywhere until you explain what just happened," Junmyeon glowered at Kyungsoo.

The younger man didn't know how to clarify this without embarrassing you and in a state of blind panic all he could think of admitting to some sort of a dissociative identity disorder. But before he could lose any more brownie points with your brother, you came to his rescue albeit not doing much to help his already strained relationship with Junmyeon.

"Kyungsoo, you don't have to tell him anything. You, Sir, talk to me. No need to drag my husband into this mess!"

Junmyeon scoffed before breaking into a hysterical laughter, "You're unbelievable, little sister. Unbelievable!"

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and started, "Hyungnim, I- "

"You have the unmitigated gall to still be standing here!" Junmyeon snapped at Kyungsoo, causing the younger man to bury his face in his hands. When the brother sister duo fell silent, Kyungsoo looked up again to find Jumyeon taking furiously long strides towards the wedding party.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Kyungsoo said quietly, rubbing the corner of his eye, as you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest.

"I'll fix it, I promise. I'll speak to him when he's calmed down a little," you replied, softly patting your husband's back, "Do you want to stop at a McDonald's on our way back?

Kyungsoo chuckled, squeezing you in a tight hug and kissing the top of your head, "I hate you."

"I love you, too!" You chirped, and his features lit up with his beautiful heart-shaped smile.

"So? McDonald's?" You asked coyly.

He cradled your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. When you drew a staggered breath in response, he felt a wave of heat flushing through him. You giggled against his lips causing Kyungsoo to firmly pull your body to his. He scooped you up in his arms, kissing you with an increased fervour and rendering you breathless.

Gently pulling away, he answered in a husky, gruff voice, "Sure, dumb bitch. Took you long enough."

[scribbles97]

Paris

From @gumnut-logic 's AU Where There Be Dragons

Specifically from THIS FIC exploring Eos' creation

Thank you for letting me play in your universe Nutty.

“Eos has promised to do no more harm. She just needs a chance.” Please, Gordon. A one-sided slow blink as the black spots danced. “I invoke Paris.”

Gordon’s eyes widened. “John, no. No, not for this. Please!”

“Worth it.” And John was falling, hands grabbing at him until he blanked out.

It was Grandma who saved John.

And Gordon who saved Eos.

Because John saved Gordon.

Paris was beautiful at night, there was no denying, John thought as he strolled the banks of the Seine with Penelope on his arm. The city was more to Scott or their father’s taste, all boutique tailors and nice places to lunch. Women that smiled prettily and batted their eyelashes until one paid attention to them.

Alongside him, Penelope was dressed to match the most elegant of ladies in the city. All tight corsets and coats that she complained pinched at her waist, and big skirts that took up more space in the carriage than John needed as a whole.

It was apparently the fashion though, and John had caught more than one so-called gentleman taking a second look at the pale pink dress she had been wearing over dinner. Even covered in her winter cape, thick, dark and heavy to protect from the cold night, he still caught others looking. He didn’t doubt the question in their eyes of what was under such a luxurious coat.

John had no such interest. The oil lamps that lined the streets blocked out the stars, their light drowned out by something artificial.

Penelope has asked for him specifically though, insisting that his brothers stay aboard Thunderbird Five nestled away deep within the English Channel. She had been unwilling to say more until they were well on their way to Paris from Calais. Apparently the other didn’t need to know until more information had been garnered.

With both Gordon still not operating at full steam, and Scott and Virgil insistent on mollycoddling, John hadn’t disagreed.

“What is on your mind?” Penelope murmured, turning slightly to look up to him, “I can hear the cogs turning from here.”

He knew his smile was tight and hardly reassuring to the lady that saw everything. To trick Penelope was fatal, and near impossible for his family. She knew them all too well, had spent enough days watching them all to know their traits and tells.

John wasn’t sure he would ever have reason to lie to her anyway.

“Gordon.” He admitted softly.

Her frown was brief but noticeable as she focussed on the path ahead, twirling her umbrella slightly as her brow dipped.

“I thought your brother was doing well?”

“He is.” John nodded, tugging at his scarf slightly against the frosty night air rolling in off the river, “As you saw, he is walking well now. The function he has regained, even at this point, is remarkable.”

“However?”

“You know my brothers, Penelope,” He smiled with a slight shake of his head, “They are not patient men. Gordon wishes to prove he is fit, that he can and should be allowed to return to duty alongside us.”

“He is not ready.”

“He is not.” John confirmed.

Her hand squeezed his arm tightly in a form of silent reassurance as she nodded ahead, “I believe this is the barge we were looking for.”

John followed her gaze, recognising the figure stood under the next lamp smoking his pipe.

“I would be inclined to agree.”

He took the step across first, holding his hand out for her as she stepped lightly from pavement to the boat. The river was still and quiet around them, much like the rest of the city hiding away from the frost bitten air of winter.

Allowing her to step ahead, he hesitated, eyeing the figure approaching the edge of the dock as he jumped more purposefully on to the coal barge.

“Parker.”

“Master John.”

“Parker.” Penelope turned back, umbrella folded as she smiled to them both, “I trust our hosts are expecting us?”

“That they are M’lady.” The older man tipped his cap to her, “Below deck h’I’m h’afraid.”

John could tell the lady wasn’t best pleased with the news, the light colour of her shoes would no doubt be ruined by the black dust left from the coal. He knew better than to expect it would put her off though. There was a goal in mind for the evening, and he doubted anything would disrupt her from it.

“Well I suppose we shan’t keep them waiting.”

Parker ducked ahead of them both, gesturing towards a hatch, hidden amongst the piles of coal, “This way M’Lady.”

John followed last, having to duck down in the low height of the hold clearly designed for people much shorter than himself.

“Good Evening, Mister Yost.” Penelope was saying, her focus aimed on the sole occupant of the room, a man tied to a chair in the centre of the space.

“Who are you?” He spat back at her, “What are we doing here?”

“I am aware that you have a hand in the designs for the tower that is to begin construction next year, yes?”

John glanced between her and Yost. Penelope knew exactly the man's part in the plans, knew what information she was there to gain.

“If you want ze plans I shall not give them to you.”

“It is not the plans I am in need of, Mister Yost, but I do not believe you are the sole architect as had been planned?”

“It was to be my masterpiece.” He uttered, eyes aflame even in the low light.

“Assist me in my queries and maybe it shall be.” Penelope offered, the young sweetness in her voice like a flame drawing in a moth.

The sneer from his face fell instantly, dropping to a slight glare before landing on something altogether more neutral. John could guess Penelope was using that smile of hers, the one that seemed to manage to get her whatever she so chose.

“What changes did the other architect make?”

He glanced towards John, the man’s eyes hardening again before looking back to Penelope, “To ze designs themselves very little. It was ze alloy zat he changed, a new material, one I had not heard of before.”

“Why?”

John missed the response, something above him scuttering along the tops of the boards. A glance towards Parker told him the older man had heard it too.

Being closer to the hatch, John turned slightly, stepping up onto the first step as he listened again.

The footsteps were meant to be quiet, he could hear how they were slow and cautious in their movement. Against the wooden deck of the barge, sneaking was impossible.

“We have company.” He murmured, glancing back into the hold.

Penelope’s tutt was loud in the small space as she turned to face him, “Might yourself and Parker deal with our visitors, I shall finish off here with Mister Yost.”

“Quite.” John smiled, “Try not to be too long.”

She almost laughed at his request as she turned back to Yost, and John focussed on making it above deck unnoticed.

Movement immediately caught his eye as he rose from the dusty hold, drawing his attention towards the port side.

A flash of blond in the lamp light was enough to have him straightening in fear as a figure in black wrestled with the shorter person. One set of feet against the deck were much heavier than the other, a whir of hydraulics accompanying each movement.

Parker alongside him hesitated, “H’is that…?”

“Gordon.” John confirmed under his breath, “I’ll kill him myself.”

“Not if we do first.”

Both spun at the voice, accent familiar english.

Parker was first to move, taking on the other Brit with a well trained hand. John knew he was more than capable, but the man was older, getting slower as life moved on by his own admission. It wasn’t something a Tracy did, to run in the opposite direction of those that may need help.

A cry of pain from across the boat reminded him that his brother was the one more likely to need such help.

He was off without further thought, not caring for how the coal may muck up the crisp lines of his evening suit. His shoes were slippy against the deck, made for walking along cobbled roads and not climbing across boats mounded high with wares.

Stumbling around the hatch they had emerged from, the glint of metal caught his eye.

“Gun!” He yelled, hoping his brother took heed as he raced for the assailant.

Gordon spun too fast, the hiss of his legs not keeping up, his balance off still as he adapted to the new legs. It may have been months, but learning to walk was a slow process, one the swimmer was yet to remaster.

The line of his fall flashed before John’s eyes as he tracked the squeeze of a finger on the trigger. The timing had to be right, he had to save his brother.

“No!” He screamed at the final possible moment, grabbing for the gun as he slammed into the man. Kicking hard, he buckled before him, giving John the desperate moment he needed to claim the gun.

A single solid thwack to the back of the head was enough to still the man that had been attacking Gordon.

“John!”

He would always react to the call of his name from a brother, though it was rare for such a call to set his heart racing. The fear and desperation so plain and clear.

In the rush he hadn’t heard the splash that he knew must have happened. He hadn’t had time to do anything other than allow it to, even if Gordon had yet to relearn to swim as he once had.

John had only hoped he had the upper body strength to keep himself above the water for long enough.

“Reach Gordon.” He encouraged, throwing himself half over the side, stretching as far as he could. Even from a distance he could feel the icy coolness of the river against his face, his brother would freeze if he didn’t get out in a moment.

“‘Ere!” Parker called, throwing a rope down into the water before John could look around, “Grab on Master Gordon.”

His brother did as the older man bade, grabbing on with hands the shook from equal parts cold and fear. Together, John and Parker heaved, pulling the swimmer from the water and to the damp boards of the barge.

John didn’t dare look, anger burning hot in his chest as he dropped the rope and looked straight to Parker.

“Get a carriage and get him out of here.” He spat, “Penelope and I shall finish here.”

“H’of course, Master John.”

He didn’t look back as he headed for the hold.

***

Penny had been the one to catch the blood staining his hair a darker shade of red. One look at him in the hold and she had been pulling the scarf from his neck to tend to the wound.

“We have what we need.” She had uttered to him, “Where has Parker gotten to?”

“I sent him to the hotel.” John murmured, wary of listening ears as Yost looked between them, “There was a complication.”

“Then we shall follow on.” She nodded matter-of-factly, “Mister Yost is of no more use to us.”

In the moment, John didn’t overly care for what Yost had or hadn’t told her. There were too many other aspects to consider. Scott and Virgil were going to give him so much grief for not only his wound but for Gordon sneaking along.

“You are fortunate,” Penelope whispered once they were in the cab, she hadn’t stopped fussing with his hair since they had set off, “”Tis a minor scrape, less than an inch and it would have been your head.”

He couldn’t help but scoff with a shake of his head, wincing as the world in front of him spun with the movement.

“You can blame Gordon.” He uttered back to her, “Dear brother followed us.”

Her silence had him worried, it wasn’t like Penelope to not have a response quick off of her tongue.

His head was starting to throb though and he really did not have the energy to look to her.

“Scott is going to kill me.”

Her gloved hand was warm over his, “He shan’t. We will deal with this and your brother need never know.”

Opening his eyes just enough to look down to her, John found himself smiling slightly. When it came to the Lady, he knew he had her word.

***

He awoke to the sun shining through the light lace curtains of the windows, it’s low light in the winter sky an indication that he had slept in far later than anticipated. His head still ached as it had the night before, the gash at his scalp pulling as he screwed his eyes shut again.

The bed was warm but the air around him cold. There was another reason for him to hate Paris, for him to dislike anywhere that wasn’t his ship.

The quiet hiss and pop of a fire assured him that the room would heat up soon, even if he wasn’t quite ready to venture from the warmth of the bed.

“Master John,” Parker’s voice was soft despite the harshness of his accent, “H’it is time you were h’awake.”

Sighing he hummed softly in some sort of response. The ride back would be hell if his head continued as it was.

“Her Ladyship has made arrangements for us to remain in the city for another day.” Parked continued, “She thought you might want to recover a little more before making the return journey.”

If he had been so inclined he would have kissed the woman.

“H’excuses ‘ave been sent to your brothers. Her Ladyship shall fill you in over breakfast.”

Shifting, he sat up in the bed, resisting the want to probe around in his hairline to asses the wound on his head.

“Might h’I recommend a wash before you make h’an appearance, Master John?”

Grimacing, he looked to Parker, “That bad?”

The butler tilted his head slightly, a smile hiding somewhere behind his eyes.

“How is Gordon?”

“‘E’s well. Though regretful of your injury.”

John frowned, they hadn’t run into his brother on their return to the hotel the previous night. Parker had done enough to assure John that his brother would at least live for the time being. It had been John’s aching head that had forced him to retire early, despite the conversations he knew he needed to have.

“Master Gordon ‘eard your return with ‘er Ladyship and caught a glimpse of you before you retired.”

That made more sense.

Reaching for his shirt he swung his legs out from the bed, “Send him through please.”

“Of course.” The butler nodded, stepping backwards towards the door, “Though, master John?”

“Yes?”

“H’if I might say, h’I wouldn’ be too harsh on Master Gordon. There was no intention for ‘im to get you hurt. H’and I do believe ‘e was only lookin’ out for ‘er Ladyship.”

As much as John wished to deny it, he knew the older man had a point.

“Tell Penelope we will join her for breakfast in good time.”

“Of course, Master John.”

He dressed quickly, determined to keep out the chill of the room and have himself composed before Gordon turned up.

His family had always said his anger had burned as red and as hot as his hair.

It seemed ironic, he thought to himself as he warmed his hands by the fire, that red hair determined a hot temper when fire so often burned the yellow of Gordon’s hair. Everyone knew his younger brother wore his emotions on his sleeve, that you simply had to look in his eyes to know exactly what his feelings were on any matter.

“You asked for me.”

John looked up from the flames as his brother slipped into the room, layered up in clothes that didn’t quite fit him.

“Are you well?”

He looked okay, though John knew that looks could be deceiving.

“Bruised and sore,” Gordon admitted softly, still hovering by the door, “I spent the night by the fire, Parker ensured I was warmed through. I shan’t catch a chill.”

John nodded to his own fire, “You will do well to stay warm today brother, I do not know what I should tell Scott if you were to catch a chill. Where does he think you are?”

“Thinks I went up the coast to Dunkirk to meet some old Navy friends. I would rather we kept him believing as such.”

The swimmer had the decency to look guilty as he approached, sinking down in the armchair John directed him to.

“Fortunately that is possible as you did not take a bullet last night.” John uttered, voice low and dangerous, “Was there any thought as to the implications of your actions, Gordon? Do you not think we have already lost enough of you without the risk of losing more?”

He stayed quiet, not even fighting back as John knew his brother should have done. His anger was burning hotter than the fire though, heating his gut from the inside out as he glared at his younger brother.

“I am not Virgil, Gordon. I had no way to save you like he did. I do not even know if he could have saved you from that. Having your life saved once does not make you invincible brother, it would do you well to remember that!”

“I did not anticipate the situation.” Gordon uttered, not looking up from where he was wringing his hands together, “I did not expect for someone to attack me, John. I did not--”

He caught himself, looking away as his mouth twisted.

John frowned down at him, ignoring the pain in his head. He knew his brother, knew that it was so very unlike him to leave anything unsaid.

“What?” He prompted.

Gordon looked down as he shook his head, “Tis nothing.”

The voice was too soft and young, so unlike his brother.

“Gordon?” He stepped closer, shifting to crouch, “Brother, something is bothering you and I can see it. I may not be Scott or Virgil, but you know you can still talk to me.”

Amber eyes were wet as they looked to him, the sharp intake of breath a telltale sign that something was most definitely wrong.

“What am I, John?”

There were many questions John had heard in his life, he prided himself on having the answers to all that he could.

Except, he didn’t understand Gordon’s.

And there was no answer for a question he did not understand.

Shaking his head he reached out to the arm of the chair, “I--”

Gordon reached to the leg of his breeches, tugging just enough to pull up the hem and reveal the metal beneath.

“What has Virgil done to me?”

John shook his head, wincing at the pain briefly before refocusing on his brother, “Virgil saved you.”

Desperate hands grasped at John’s, amber eyes pleading as they reflected the firelight.

“Yes, and for that I am forever grateful. Is this not also a curse though? None of you shall ever allow me near a rescue again, I am not capable, last night was simple proof of that. I cannot even swim, something I have spent my whole life doing!”

The energy was all Gordon, burning as hot and as bright as the fire behind John. It burned his heart to hear the words, singed him to even think that his brother had all these feelings.

“I cannot do anything that my life has revolved around and with all that I am a monster. I must hide in the shadows for fear of either ridicule or theft. You and I know this world John, we saw what people will do last night, nobody shall ever know the truth outside of our family and that--”

A fist tightened as he pulled away, jaw clenching tight as he tried to blink away the dampness in his eyes.

“Virgil saved me, but now I do not believe I shall have a life.”

Long, cold fingers grasped at his brothers, pieces of the previous night falling into place all at once.

“Gordon,” He choked, “Tell me you did not ignore me last night. When you were in the river? Tell me you intended on getting out?”

His brother looked to his legs again, “The last days were the first I have seen Penelope since…”

John didn’t need him to gesture to the false legs before he continued.

“And until last night she had barely said more than two words to me.” A tired scoff as he shook his head, “I am well aware of the jokes you all make at my expense, because you all know how I feel for the woman. When she came for you though, whisked you away in her carriage without even a thought of me. What was I left to think, John?”

He could only bow his head in response, the thoughts of his brother irrational but so understandable all at once.

“My dear brother,” He whispered, squeezing the hands in his tightly, “Penelope, she--”

“I know.” It was whispered back as Gordon slouched in the seat, tears fresh on his cheeks as he sunk into the cushions, “Parker set me straight last night. It was about when he threw me the rope that I realised how wrong I was.”

“I love Penelope dearly,” John murmured, “As a friend, Gordon. She does not see you as anything other than the man you always have been. Penelope is a woman so very above material things despite her expensive taste.”

The comment had the desired effect as Gordon laughed, eyes brightening just slightly with the sound.

“And do you really think I would allow her to court me aboard a coal barge?” John continued, allowing his own smile to spread, “Of all the places in Paris?”

Gordon laughed softly again, nodding slightly in admission, “I’ve been out of sorts. I am sorry.”

John sighed, watching him carefully and knowing all too well what it felt like to be so very alone in a room full of people.

“You will save people again my brother, do not doubt that. You are still healing though, your injuries still fresh and raw to us all. We are your brothers and we shall always fear for your safety. There is no denying though that we cannot keep you from that life, and if you have started to believe that we would then I can only apologise.”

The wetness in his brothers eyes was gathering again, brightening the reflection of the fire as he focussed on John.

“Have we not proved so many times,” John continued, “That there is always a way my brother, whatever you need we shall do all in our power to make you well and make you happy. If that means to be on rescues we shall work towards that, or if it means courting Penelope then we will find a way.”

Taking a breath, John thinned his lips, “You are not the only one in our family to believe that you are so very alone. I promise you though Gordon, there is always someone when you need them.”

He didn’t expect the soft snort as a response, “Parker said the same thing.”

“Parker is a wise man.” John smiled softly, “It would do for you to listen to him once in a while.”

Nodding, Gordon sniffed, “I am truly sorry John, I almost got you killed.”

Shifting to stand, John winced, the shift in height exacerbating the ache in his skull.

“Damn,” Gordon cussed softly, “Sit down before you collapse.”

He waved him off, “I am fine, just don’t tell Scott.” Softening he smiled as he rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “It is worth it for saving a brother's life.”

“In more ways than one.” Gordon murmured, “I owe you.”

John didn’t disagree as he glanced towards the fire, flames dying down quietly as the wood settled into place.

“Do not forget it, brother.”

[still-a-morosexual-help]

Do you just- ever... uh hate men? and I'm talking about IRL men. Like I know I do. >:0 They just so uglyyy XD (/ half j)

No? Not really....

Men are complicated. So are women. And enbys. And anyone really.

I think, with men, women and just anyone there's always a 50/50 chance they're gonna be a good person or the absolute worst

Their gender gives men more privileges over every other gender. And there are men who have done awful, terrible unforgivable things but generally I've never really hated men as a whole

I mean I've had my "ugh men" moments but that's usually in response to a man I'm friends with doing something dumb af

And I've definitely had very specific men whom I hate with the passion of a thousand burning suns (catcallers, stalkers, that one college lecturer, unsolicited dick pic senders, my friends' shitty exes, my shitty ex, creeps on buses)

ik there are lots of men who are absolute douchebags and maybe this is just me with my intense gender envy but but

But men are so pretty? wtf

I tried to go on a rant about how beautiful men are and just had to scream into a pillow cause I got overwhelmed

Thick, poofy hair? How do they do that? Why does their hair defy gravity without any product?

Long luxurious locks? Beautiful. Gorgeous. I hate having long hair but also Sir what are your secrets

Hair that's naturally so stiff it prickles when you run your hand through it? Prickly prickly. Love that texture

Curls? You absolute gorgeous bastard I hate you

Eyelashes? Why do you need those eyelashes? You're not a camel batting away desert storms

Chubby tummys and thick thighs? Pillows. Pillows you can just squish your face in. Perfect and huggable

Flat stomachs? So cool my dude what's your routine

Strong arms? Pick me up guy, twirl me around and send me swinging. Wanna be thrown through the air

Tall? You getta stand on your tippy toes for hugs and to ruffle hair

Short? You can tuck under your chin

Big? Bear hugs

Small? Now you give bear hugs

Bold? Partner in crime. Partner in crime. Partner in crim-

Shy? Watch him make the dumbest excuse ever to ask for a hug

Open to physical contact? Now you have a partner to wrestle with

Not open to physical contact? He's gonna ruffle your hair when the amount of affection he has for you becomes too overwhelming and it's gonna be the greatest thing ever

Goofy smile? Andydkfnkfmxlds yes

Small shy smile? Andudidmdodiddk yes

A complete stranger you'll never see again? You're beautiful my dude and I can never let you know that so I'm just gonna think it in your general direction

I was gonna just talk about physical aspects cause that's what anon mentioned but I ended up accidentally adding other things too

And YES this absolutely includes trans men and anyone who identifies as a man

I had to stop myself before I wrote a whole list of every single man in my life (either presently or someone from the past) who I'm appreciative of