#both phases work but this one had Rose in it

[sunderwight]

Thinking about a bingqiu Dreamling AU where Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua are both bored deities, just sort of taking a brief sojourn through the mortal world to shoot the shit and see some interesting monster or other that Shen Yuan has heard about, when they come across a tea house and decide to take a break and do some people-watching instead.

Shen Yuan is well into something of a shut-in phase, which Shang Qinghua doesn't like, mostly because when Shen Yuan is in those phases he doesn't do particularly well either. Shen Yuan's a social butterfly, for however little he cares to actually acknowledge it about himself, and his critique of Shang Qinghua's literary masterpieces gets so much harsher when he's not getting enough enrichment.

So when they overhear one of the kitchen boys solemnly insisting that he is going to do everything in his power to never die, and Shen Yuan laments that the boy would probably regret such a wish if it came true, Shang Qinghua decides to bestow a rare bit of godly power onto this mortal and grant his wish.

He doesn't make him a god, of course, that wouldn't even be in his ability. At least, not without using up more time and effort than he's prepared to expend on this one random kid. But immortality on its own is not that difficult. The boy will still finish growing up, and will still be able to be harmed, to know hunger and pain and illness. It just won't ever kill him.

Shen Yuan sighs that it's a cruel thing to do to a mortal, especially one with such low odds of ever cultivating other skills to mitigate the potential torment of it all. But Shang Qinghua just shrugs and they place bets, that this boy will ask for the immortality to be revoked in a hundred years, or two hundred, or so on, or else he won't. Shen Qingqiu approaches the kitchen boy and flusters and bewilders him by telling him to meet him back here again in a hundred years time.

A hundred years later, the tea house is larger. The boy has grown to be a striking young man, who looks at Shen Yuan with wariness and something else, something almost like awe, as he asks what manner of creature he's made this bargain with. Shen Yuan assures him that he has no nefarious intentions, and instead asks Luo Binghe how the past century of his life has gone.

Horribly, at least at first. Binghe's mother had already died by the time they met, but afterwards he managed to earn enough money to travel to a nearby sect. Working in the tea house's kitchen was just a minor stopover along the way. Shen Yuan was wrong, it seems, about his odds of becoming a cultivator -- Luo Binghe earned entry as a disciple.

Yet, he had no success. The master who took him on was unaccountably cruel and mercurial, and Luo Binghe's attempts to cultivate failed. Looking back he sees now that there were many times when he should have died but didn't, but when it was all happening he just thought himself lucky. At least until an enemy sect attacked a cultivation conference, and he suffered mortal wounds that absolutely should have killed him (or anyone) but still didn't die. (No demon race or abyss in this AU, but there are still demonic and fantastical creatures.)

His cruel master, upon witnessing this, accused him of heretical practices and tried to kill him as well by flinging him off the edge of a gorge. The fall was terrible. Binghe lay at the bottom in a horrifying state, injured beyond reason and yet, still, he didn't die. Eventually his body recovered enough for him to drag himself out, and once he did the only thing on his mind was getting revenge. For the next several decades he managed to ingratiate himself to all manner of potential allies, forging alliances, accumulating blackmail, and convincing people that he had to be some powerful cultivator through his supernatural resilience, lack of visible aging, and a lot of bluffing. He got revenge on his old teacher, drove his first sect into ruin, and rose to prominence as a feared and respected leader of the cultivation world.

Shen Yuan listens with clear interest, asking plenty of questions and seemingly quite taken up with the story. At the conclusion, Luo Binghe admits that his actual cultivation is still mostly a matter of smoke and mirrors, and wonders if -- now that the hundred years have passed -- Shen Yuan means to strip his immortality from him.

Shen Yuan asks if Luo Binghe wants that. When Luo Binghe says no, he accepts the answer, and tells him to meet him back here again in another hundred years. Luo Binghe calls after him, but before he can ask anything more, Shen Yuan has disappeared again.

A hundred years later, Binghe arrives back at the tea house with an entourage befitting of an emperor. The tea house has also expanded. Luo Binghe orders a lavish feast from them, which everyone hastens to provide. He's spent the past several decades consolidating his power, forging alliances with key political players via several marriages, producing heirs, and crushing his enemies. As he brags about the state of his massive harem to Shen Yuan, the deity's eyes begin to glaze over. He doesn't seem impressed. He also doesn't seem to care much for the food, and eventually his attention is stolen away by a conversation at another table. The diners are discussing the exploits of a promising new poet and novelist. Try as he might, Luo Binghe fails to regain Shen Yuan's attention before the evening is done. Shen Yuan doesn't think it's a big deal -- after all, if Binghe is still riding on top of the world, he's probably not going to want his immortality gift revoked just yet!

Another hundred years go by. The tea house has returned to a more modest situation, the next time Shen Yuan sets foot in it. He waits an unusually long while for his guest to arrive, and when he does, he's almost stopped at the door by the tea house's servers. It's only when Shen Yuan bids them let him through that Luo Binghe is able to come to the table, almost collapsing against it and desperately falling onto the arrangement of snacks with obvious hunger.

Shen Yuan wonders if this, now, will be when the boy (no longer a boy) asks for the immortality to be revoked. Surprisingly, he finds himself resistant to the idea, even though it's also clear that the game has run too long. Maybe hundred year check-ins were too short? He doesn't like the implications of what's gone on, even if he's not really surprised about it either.

Between desperate mouthfuls of food, Luo Binghe explains that without mastering inedia, going hungry but never dying is a deeply unpleasant experience. Shen Yuan orders more food. Once Binghe has finally eaten his fill, he begins, haltingly, to explain his situation. His clothes are ragged, he is painfully thin, and his gaze is haunted.

Apparently, several of his wives conspired to assassinate him, despite his reputation as unkillable. Realizing that most poisons and such didn't kill him, but that he could still be incapacitated, they hatched a scheme to dose his food with a powerful sleeping agent, and then walled him up in a famous ancestral tomb. They went to great length to ensure that it was impossible to escape from. It took Binghe decades to do it anyway, digging away at the floors, and when he got out he found that his power base had collapsed. In-fighting and the incursion of his enemies had led to the deaths of all of his children, and what wives had survived had either fled or remarried. Not that he particularly wanted them back at that point, since the ones actually most loyal to him had also been killed early on after his own "death". His face marked him, to the eyes of his enemy, as a surviving descendant of himself. He was hunted down, chased across the continent and back again, until he managed to fall into enough obscurity that his pursuers abandoned the chase. Except that he has nothing, and any time he tries to regain something, he runs the risk of being hounded again. Those who might see some potential in him still remember the collapse of his recent "dynasty" and slam doors in his face, or else try and turn him over to those now in power in pursuit of a reward. Those who don't know that much see only a dirty beggar, and usually run him off on that basis instead.

Shen Yuan, almost hesitant, asks if Luo Binghe would like to have his immortality revoked.

Luo Binghe declines. How will he be able to take revenge on those who wronged him if he is dead? He has a hit list a mile long by now.

Which is definitely not the most noble of reasons to persist, but Shen Yuan finds himself reluctant to ask twice. Instead he orders more food, and then even reserves one of the traveler's rooms above the tea house for several days. By then the sky is turning grey, and Luo Binghe is losing his apparent battle with exhaustion. Shen Yuan presses the key into his hand, thinking it's probably not enough, but there are limits to how much gods are supposed to interfere and Shang Qinghua already stretched them to the breaking point with this entire scenario.

He leaves, not seeing the hand that reaches after him just before he is out of the door and gone.

Another hundred years pass. This time, Shen Yuan arrives to find Luo Binghe already waiting for him. He isn't surprised to see that Binghe's situation has visibly improved -- maybe he was keeping closer tabs on him, just a little bit, for this past while. If only to be sure he wouldn't have to warn the tea house workers to expect an unorthodox visitor again! But no, Binghe has been doing well enough for himself. No more harems or thrones, though. He dresses more like a well-off merchant now, deliberately posing as his own mortal descendant rather than as a great immortal cultivator. The food at the table looks far more delicious than usual too (Binghe commandeered the tea house's kitchen himself this time). As they chat, Shen Yuan is regaled with the exploits of Luo Binghe's travels and adventures, how even though he initially set out to claim revenge on those who overthrew him, by the time he was in a position to actually do so they had already died of the usual causes (time, illness, their own schemes backfiring, etc). Subsequently, only their children and grandchildren were left with the scraps of power they had obtained, and when one of those children employed Luo Binghe as a bodyguard, his initial plan to assassinate them eventually fell by the wayside. After all, the wrongdoings weren't actually theirs. From that point, Binghe was able to restore himself to a more comfortable life, joining his new employer on their travels until he had set aside enough earnings to take his leave before his youthful good-looks earned him suspicion. He then began investing in travel and trade, specifically cargo ships, because never spending too long in the same place or around the same people helped disguise his immortality. He had found that, at least for now, this served him better than playing the part of a cultivator. It also gave him time to try and actually repair his ruined cultivation base somewhat, and fighting pirates proved very diverting.

Binghe is midway through recounting his adventures with a gigantic sea monster, while Shen Yuan hangs on every word, when they're interrupted by the arrival of a brash young mistress, clearly wealthy and trained in cultivation. The young lady declares that there is a rumor that a fallen god and a demon meet in this tea house once a century, that they wield strange powers, etc etc, and she intends to interrogate them both with the assistance of her hired muscle and her own spiritual weapon, and discover the truth of the matter. Then she whips out, well, a whip!

Before Shen Yuan can deal with the matter, Luo Binghe is already on his feet, disarming the goons and breaking a few arms in the process. Shen Yuan is so distracted that he almost misses the whip aimed right for him, but before Binghe can catch the barbed weapon with his bare hand (wtf, Binghe, no) Shen Yuan deflects it with a wave of his fan, and then efficiently knocks the troublesome young lady unconscious. The hired muscle flees, Shen Yuan arranges for their assailant to be placed in a room upstairs until she regains consciousness, and he and Binghe resume their meal and conversation in relative peace.

Even though it's clear that Luo Binghe has not yet reached the end of his tolerance for life, Shen Yuan nevertheless finds himself strangely reluctant to part ways at the end of the night. Still, he does, because that's what is expected of him, gently denying Luo Binghe's suggestions that they find some other establishment to continue their conversation at. He also has to investigate these "rumors" that the young lady mentioned. It's probably nothing (Shang Qinghua has a loose tongue when he's drunk, and a lot of imaginative storytellers have frequented this tea house over the years) but he doesn't like being caught unawares like that. Heavenly politics are... complicated, it's best not to court unwanted attention in any capacity.

Another hundred years go by. This time, when they meet at the tea house, Luo Binghe asks Shen Yuan why he keeps it up. Why did he pick Binghe? What is he really after? When Shen Yuan fails to give any kind of clear answer, Luo Binghe shoots his shot and makes a (very obvious) move on him.

Shen Yuan, flustered, gets up and flees. Ignoring Luo Binghe's calls after him. It just doesn't make any sense! Why would Binghe do that?! He's a man who once had a harem of wives in the triple digits! Clearly he's not gay, so what was that all about? Was he just messing with him?! How dare he! Etc, etc.

Another century passes. Luo Binghe waits at the tea house, which has fallen onto hard times again. With the construction of some new roadways, travelers no longer pass through as often. Binghe listens, worried, to the proprietor's laments that this old place will probably not be around in another hundred years. He listens because he has no one else to speak to, because Shen Yuan has not shown up. Not that morning, not during the day, not come evening, and not now that it is closing time. Binghe nevertheless charms and bribes the proprietor to let him stay even after the place has shuttered.

It seems damning, of course. He pressed too hard and now his mysterious benefactor wants nothing more to do with him. Except, no, he refuses to accept that. He's still immortal. And he has gleaned enough of Shen Yuan's character by now that he thinks that even if he was rejected, he would be let down more clearly and gently than this. The more he thinks about it, the less willing Luo Binghe is to believe that he has been deliberately stood up (also, since the tenor of his confession was different from Hob Gadling's, he never delivered an ultimatum about what it might imply when they met up again).

Over the centuries, Luo Binghe has built up a few contacts with similarly strange and supernatural stories. Cultivators, sure, but also others, fortune tellers and people of strange ancestry, questionable abilities, those who have interacted with powerful beings of mysterious provenance. He makes his way to a certain gambling den, frequented often by such people, and while he flashes around enough money to draw curiosity, he collects information. Shen Yuan wasn't the only person who started paying more attention to the kinds of rumors surrounding the two of them after their confrontation with the young cultivator a couple centuries ago. And in fact, Luo Binghe has been spending many, many years trying to find out more about his mystery man. Though, too many potential deities and immortals fit his description for him to have ever conclusively figured much out.

This is how Binghe gets wind of a rumor that an eccentric occultist has somehow captured a god in his basement...

[hwaightme]

Both

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR STAR’S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)(masterlist) (taglist)

❤️‍🔥 pairing: husband!seonghwa x gn!afab!reader ❤️‍🔥 genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established long-term relationship ❤️‍🔥 summary: all work and no play makes seonghwa a needy boy; your husband wants you. now. and he will use any means necessary to get you where he wants you. being in the office is not a problem when you are one message away... ❤️‍🔥 wordcount: 8.6k total ❤️‍🔥 warnings/tags: semi-edited, hwa duality, businessperson!reader, mention of offices/presentations/corporate culture, nonidol!hwa, married but permanently in honeymoon phase, two people very in love, petnames, mutual respect, trust and adoration, seonghwa is smitten, reader wears heels, words crazy+drunk used ❤️‍🔥 taglist: at the bottom of the fic ❤️‍🔥 a/n: spiralled into ponderings with @byuntrash101 (ily), and my fingers slipped. oops. any notes, asks, reblogs appreciated <3 much love!

❤️‍🔥 taglist: sexting, praise, petnames (love, darling, my love, pretty, gorgeous...), consent is king, unprotected sex (consider before you deliver), mating press/missionary (vanilla but make it spicy), 69 (blowjob+eating out), creampie, cumeating, slight spit kink, sprinklings of body worship, possessive terms (my/mine), light overstimulation, implied aftercare

“How do I look?” you called out to your husband, who was sitting behind you on your shared bed, feline in the way he was leaning back on his arms, regarding you through half-shut, curious eyes. 

Unlike you, he had the day free, but even so decided to go through the motions of a morning routine with you, though finalising it with a considerably less formal outfit. Dressed in a black sweater and matching black trousers, Seonghwa had stated that he was going to go out to get some fresh produce from the market while it was still early, and the rush of crowds did not plague the city just yet. Patiently, he was waiting for you to be ready to head out to work, and he, to comfortably support the home front for today. 

“Hm, you look like me having to come to work with you and me having a blast telling waves of potential suitors that you are off limits.” He responded as a matter of factly. Nevertheless, you caught a cheeky grin in the mirror as he scanned you up and down with the intensity of a burning sun.

“Oh … Hwa, what if I want the attention? And what are you going to do about the stakeholders I’ll be speaking to, hm?” You asked him coyly, finally managing to get your second earring on and tapping it with your manicured finger for good measure.

“Something tells me that I’ll have to step in and act like security.” 

You chuckled, taken aback, pleasantly lightheaded because of Seonghwa’s early morning flirtations. With one final once over, he smoothed the bed sheets on either side of him and rose up to step right behind you, placing both hands under your suit jacket and on your waist, leaning closer and closer until he could place a soft kiss on the side of your neck which, thanks to your hairstyle, was exposed to the attention. 

The sleek, deep navy suit was an elegant number, peaked lapels on the single-breasted jacket perfectly pressed, the wide-legged trousers perfectly guiding towards the heels - pumps in a nude beige, and the white asymmetrical short-sleeved shirt underneath all combining to create perfect harmony. You had chosen elegance over daring energetic appeal today, picking pearl-based jewellery which, upon inspection, was exactly how you had imagined it would be with the outfit. A delicate balance was struck, and was reminiscent of how your husband was gingerly manoeuvring over and around you, until he appeared to have had enough with stalling.

Seonghwa’s arms lazily slid forwards, wrapping a little tighter around you, while his head moved to nudge you towards himself with his chin, until he could rest his head on your shoulder comfortably. Initially wishing to pry yourself away given how little time you had left if you were to make it to the office at a reasonable time, your hands rushed to his own, but as your husband began to sway side to side, blissfully taking in the image in the mirror, you left them there, admiring the priceless scene, and the way in which his hands fit perfectly over yours, the rings matching, another sign of your union completing the masterpiece in the reflection.

"Come on, Hwa, I’ll be late at this rate."

"What's it got to do with me, ma'am? I finished getting dressed fifteen minutes ago, was sitting here, all good and ready for you-" ignoring the word choice, you persisted:

"Because a certain someone was hogging the shower-"

"I told you, you could join." heat flushed to your cheeks as you caught Seonghwa’s less than innocent expression, making you remember exactly why you were not planning to get into any intimate shared space with this alluring schemer before work. Planting a feather-light kiss on your sensitive skin, he was threatening to make you lose track of time entirely. Attempting to wipe the action from immediate perception, you focused on the sensation of tugging on one of your earrings, anything to ground you and to return you into the headspace of the meetings you had scheduled and been booked into for the day, along with the details and key takeaways for each one. 

You had always been a fighter in the professional world, and this was one of the many things that Seonghwa adored about you. Having met at a networking event, that was the side of you he had come to be acquainted with first, and had fallen head over heels for. A sublime intensity that came with the passion you had for your work, a fire that ignited when you planned ahead, led teams and managed international ventures were so beautifully contained within you and formulated the intricate maze of your psyche that Seonghwa could not help but want to drown in it, and spend eternity observing you in action. He himself had stepped away from the strict and rigorous structures of the corporate world, instead preferring to offer independent consultation services, but to see you flourish, and to be there for your journey and to have you unconditionally support his decisions and experiments too was nothing short of a blessing. Perhaps the one side effect, a tiny challenge that came with having you as his life partner, his love and his spouse is mornings like this, when you were in the process of escaping for work, driven and ready for battle, your armour being one of the stylish suits of impeccable quality that you took great pains to keep pristine. And the more you did so, the stronger was his desire to see if he could ruin just one, at least one, perhaps the one you were wearing right now. Despite the fact that he had seen you in such garments more times than either of you could possibly count or remember, it made him more drawn to you and involuntarily seduced than he would ever dare admit. Seonghwa’s grip on your hips inadvertently tightened as gaze flashed upwards, settling on the reflection of your perfectly plump, tinted lips in the mirror. 

“Besides… As you know, I was making sure that the adjustments were all fine and the overall outfit would be fine for the quarterly review meeting,” you recalled your last-minute concerns over whether the selection was reasonable for meeting persons from the executive office, even though you were not sure if you even had outfits in your job-related arsenal that would not be appropriate, “You could have helped by the way.”

"I did! I gave the fit the Seonghwa seal of approval, but now... honestly am regretting it because you look illegal..."

He turned his attention back to the delicate skin around your neck, planting a couple more kisses with mischief glowing in his eyes. You giggled as his breath left a ticklish sensation and you nearly knocked your head with his in an attempt to shy away.

"And how do you think I feel, leaving you at home like this?”, you let your gaze settle on your husband, a ghost of a smirk revealing itself on your lips, “I need to brush up on my cat fighting techniques, mister handsome, and maybe learn how to teleport" Put him in a rag and he would still look spectacular. Like this, in a relaxed, casual outfit that ideally matched his dark locks, highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the jawline models would be jealous of, he was heavenly - something which you never failed to remind him of no matter what he was wearing. It was almost a shame that you had to leave for work instead of admiring this beauty for the entire day and an eternity more. You bit the inside of your cheek, banishing less than safe for work ponderings from your mind.

"Woah, Y/N, fighting for me? That's kind of - I do not think I should say what I am thinking."

"You’re being awfully cheeky this morning!" You lightly slapped the back of his hand and spun around, coming closer until only a mere couple of centimetres separated you. "What else can a kitty do with her claws?"

"I mean... my back has no complaints." He speedily responded, tightening his hold on your waist and attempting to capture your lips with his. But at this point, you had gotten good enough at reading Seonghwa to move away at the last second, resulting in a loud smooch right against your jawbone, followed by a purposefully childish whine, "Oh darling you are being a tease."

"Naugh- ty- Seonghwa, no kisses. I took too long to line my cupid's bow. I'm not about to let you ruin it." 

You tried to wiggle away, wondering if your suit was actually creaseproof as the assistant at the boutique had advertised, but he was having none of it, now grabbing your hands and swinging them side to side. With his prior seductive aura having subsided after your decisive, playful rejection, Seonghwa’s glances were in many ways boyish, permission-seeking. The most miniscule hint of a pout made its way to his lips as he peered what had to be directly into your heart and intertwined your fingers together, stopping the motion.

“Y/N…”

“Keep this thought in mind, lovely, will you be able to?” you purred, amused at your husband’s slow blinking, reminiscent of an affectionate cat.

“Of course,” you dodged another attempt by him to nuzzle into your neck with a soft, melodic laugh, and pulled Seonghwa to follow you out of the bedroom, “Ah, careful,” he rushed to block the door frame, chuckling at your eagerness to get to the hustle and bustle of your day, even though just a little while ago you still were retaining that light nervousness, likely overthinking every interaction that was not even likely to happen. After all, this was a job only you could do, and it was something that you did better than anyone else. You owned what you did, and everyone knew it.

As you grabbed your keys, and were about to bid farewell to your husband before starting your commute, you sensed his energy shifting to that of scheming. 

Seonghwa had a trial to face, and it presented itself with how stunning you looked in the glimmering golden light of the early morning, and how your every step almost sent a shiver up his spine. Wherever you were, he always managed to find you in one sweeping gaze, whether you were on the other side of a room or a few steps away. One of a kind, captivating, the world turned around you whether you would agree with Seonghwa or not. It was a simple fact. And here, in your apartment, where it was just you and him, it was impossible to ignore how his vision was occupied by you, and only you. He was consumed by the effortless charm you radiated, and when you caught him staring, how you lifted one shoulder and responded with a cheeky grin - a gesture of faux coyness. He clenched a hand hidden behind his back into a tight fist until his knuckles turned white, mutely regarding your final preparations before you would disappear behind the door. His thoughts were far away from what he had planned to do today, cursing how you had teased him and blaming routines - your husband would have preferred to take you and himself apart right here right now, unravel the tension that was so obvious he could almost taste it. He bit his lower lip as you leaned down to shift your footing in one of your heels, and barely suppressed a hiss as you glided back up, the pace of the motion highlighting how your curves were complemented by the suit. You were enticing, and watching your back Seonghwa could not help but remember the sensation of running his hand across it, caressing your body, guiding it as you turned into a goddess in the dimmed lights of your shared bedroom, connected with him in every way possible. You smiled at him as though you were not aware of the lustful darkness that began to consume his mind, lips tantalising, dangerous, his favourite heavenly nectar. This was unbearable.

It was impossible to ignore the searing gaze that seemed to have never left you since you had first returned it in the mirror, and was the last thing you experienced as you shut the front door. You kept the radio in your car silent, afraid that your thoughts would be louder than the music either way. Your husband was up to something, determined, and focused on you. And it was beyond exciting. This undercurrent of energy that was eternal, and ran through anything and everything he did was one of the multitude of reasons why you loved him. He was enigmatic, and yet so easy for you to explore. He had opened himself up to you so readily, revealing the edges of his vibrant soul that was so unparalleled and high octane that you swore that after meeting him, you ceased to breathe oxygen and could only ever inhale the adoration he provided. He was a dreamer, an ideator, a man devoted to the search for happiness, and that balanced you out so perfectly - it had only been a month when you had decided for yourself that Seonghwa was the one for you, and you would never let go. He was an eternal surprise, an enigma that was as soft and lovely as a cat, but wrapping itself around you like a serpent, slow and sensual. You wondered, as the day commenced and you were pulled into your first meeting, then another, just what your husband had crafted in his beautiful mind palace.

It did not take too long for the plan to reveal itself. Fortunately, because you did not enjoy facing unknowns. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of a meeting with some rather senior people. On the brighter side, you had proposed a five minute break before continuing the session so you had at least a couple of breaths to re-compose yourself, but other than that… it was only you, the phone that you were squeezing so hard in your hand that it could break, and the daring photograph blaring on the screen, setting you on fire. You had exchanged a couple of messages with Seonghwa prior to the meeting, his responses being cryptic and dizzyingly abstract, but nothing could have prepared you for the surprise.

Your other hand quickly found your thigh, gripping onto it so that you would not break your stoic disposition with a shaking leg, and you glanced side to side to make sure that the colleagues next to you had not returned to the room yet, and the others were preoccupied with their own devices or were deep in mundane conversation. So, this was what he was so enthusiastic about down following the morning antics. Clearly, you had not been passive enough for him to dismiss your glances in his direction - if you were to be honest, you had been eyeing him up and down from the moment he intentionally walked into you while changing, making you wonder how it was possible for you to want him more and more with each passing day, rather than feelings of attraction and enamourment subsiding with marriage and with sharing all the ups and downs. Instead, both of you were each other’s paradise, and that presented itself in all forms of desire. As you regarded Seonghwa’s form in the picture, lightly biting your lower lip as you tried to think of how you could respond to it, you could only be amused by how he knew exactly what buttons to press, and how to reignite what you had tried to pause earlier this morning - simply as an attempt to retain your sanity for handling paperwork and handshakes.

Resting on the chair that was in your bedroom, he made sure to accentuate his impeccable form, and how his long hair suited him so spectacularly. He had changed outfits - just for you, and that made you want to devour him all the more. Your precious husband who looked like sin. The vibrant beige jacket, which appeared almost brown in the sensually dimmed lamplight, hung freely over his upper body, revealing a tastefully bare abdomen, and consequently, the lovebites you had managed to leave above his heart and towards his collarbones after a particularly intense night a couple of days ago - they had only now begun to show signs of fading. Towards the very bottom of the picture you could spot the edge of a matching pair of trousers, black belt intentionally loosened to make your imagination run wild. A centrepiece, his black silver necklace and a perfectly paired earring, were the icing on top of the cake, their shimmer beckoning you. It was impossible to choose what to focus on; the head tilt, the elegant hand on which he was practically resting his head, how one leg had been thrown over the other - confident, in his element, so very Seonghwa that it made you hurt; and want him. Desperately. You shut your eyes and rolled them as you imagined the smirk on his face as he sent the image, knowing exactly what state he would pause you in, and hurl you into. When your husband was in the mood, it gave him an additional thrill to either catch you off-guard completely with bold advances and compliments, or fluster you until you were melting in his arms. And you did not mind one bit; that was your time to let go, to give up your stresses and iron grip and let all strains snap and become threads with which Seonghwa could pull at your very essence, praising you for how well you could follow his guidance, and just how perfect you were for him. You did not notice how your thumb was merely hovering over the keyboard until another message slid into view, and you barely suppressed a gasp, again looking up to make sure no one was watching you.

“Missing you, your taste, your everything, darling,”

This was the last straw, as you almost forgot what meeting you were in, where you were, how you were supposed to behave. You jolted upright, standing straight and excused yourself with a bow of the head, pointing at your phone - with the screen turned towards you. It was easy enough to get out, and storming down the corridor until you were out of everybody’s earshot, you pressed onto the call button, only to be met with a deep chuckle after a single ring. You could envision him still sitting on the chair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling as he toyed with your passions, beckoning you to race home to him. He knew you couldn’t until the day was officially done, and that was part of the fun. It only meant that when you were to finally open that front door, you would be more than ready to give yourself up to his tender love and care.

“Park Seonghwa, what do you think you are doing?” you hissed, pressing the phone right against the side of your face as your foot tapped an abstract rhythm on the carpeted floor.

“What do I think? I think I am talking to you right now, what about you?” he replied, purposefully feigning obliviousness.

“Hwa, the photo… the damn message....”

“Oh! That… yeah, it’s nothing special, really, I just did not send you any in quite some time, so thought I could spark… something,” he paused, indulging in your shallow breathing before finishing the sentence.

“Well you sparked something alright. Seonghwa. Or should I say, my demon of a husband?” you raised an eyebrow as you were met with a silence on the end of the line, but not long after, a sweet, resonant hum of agreement.

“Mm, what a title. Is that how I am making you feel, precious? Are you missing a certain something too?”

Missing. What exactly did both of you imply the other was missing? The word was laden with ambiguity and promise, imagination running wild from the emphasis that Seonghwa had placed on it, lifting it onto a pedestal, above rationality and stability. Inhale, exhale - you counted your breaths, knowing that in a minute you had to be heading back to talk numbers, strategies, even though only your husband would be on your mind.

“I-... yes, damn it,” you mumbled, lashes fluttering as a shiver ran up your spine.

“Mhm, I see… Now, don’t be shy, tell me, what is it that you are missing, what do you feel?” if there had been any hope of you remaining focused on work for the rest of the day, it was most certainly wiped now. You were mesmerised, clinging onto Seonghwa’s voice as though it was your only salvation in the midst of a storm. Quickly, you were losing all sense of your surroundings, too focused on his breaths, his sigh when he was obviously displeased with having to wait for your answer, and finally, his subtle command:

“Don’t be shy, tell me what’s on your mind,” you could not bring yourself to even part your lips, eyes darting to what you could see through the blinds into the meeting room. Your senior colleagues were still lethargic, unfocused, scrolling away or engaging in idle chatter. Maybe it could be advantageous, but judging by the heat that began to rise over your body you would definitely struggle stringing words together with eloquent cohesiveness. Seonghwa. The devious man. Your favourite drug. Your worst and best addiction.

“Perhaps you might need a little… inspiration… yes?”

“I…”

“...wouldn’t mind having you right on my tongue, writhing, falling apart…”

“Park Seonghwa-”

“I want to taste you. Want to keep you close for a long…” he paused, indulging in your electric silence, “long time, warm my cock while keeping you in a tight embrace, kissing you until we cannot breathe… how does that sound?”

“G-good…” you struggled to mumble out, wondering why your knees were transforming into jelly. The coolness of the wall against which you decided to lean provided some illusion of support.

“Your turn,” his tone turned more commanding and that did not go unnoticed. You bit your lower lip, not caring if that was going to smudge your lipstick. Nothing mattered, “I didn’t spare any details,” he waited. You remained frozen in your own thoughts, thousands of desires darting around your mind, but none being brave enough to escape and reveal itself to your husband. Perhaps for the better:

“Please don’t make me beg,” he must have heard you stifle a sound that was far too inappropriate to ever be heard in the workplace - the airy laugh that you were met with over the line was downright sinful, and made you curse your job. You needed him. Needed the release he was so readily offering. 

“Or do you want me to pry your dirty little secrets out of you until you are the one begging?”

A shaky inhale, an equally shaky exhale. You uttered his name, in a low voice only he had ever heard. Simultaneously hostile and tantalising. He now knew that he had you hooked.

“Mm… fine. Please, my darling. Please, tell me all those precious filthy musings swimming around in that delightful brain of yours,” you clenched the phone tighter in your hand and crossed your legs. You knew you had no time, despite easily imagining the position that Seonghwa was in, where he was and how lost he was in a lascivious dreamland. Eyes glossed over, lips wetted with his own spit, tension building in his core which he refused to unwind. Without you, at least. With a sharp intake of cold air, you steadied yourself. You were not about to reward demands with treasures. 

“Now, what would be the fun in that?”

“Come on… Y/N, I-”

“Be good, and you might just find out.” you cut him off, offering a fake smile to a colleague who walked past you. You needed to come back. Immediately.

“So you will be heading back on time today, right?” he was daring you, but at the same time it was easy to notice the notes of desperation. Untouched, riled up, overwhelmed. Needy. Just how you loved him.

“Hm… I do have a couple of things I could do…” who were you kidding? You had already gone through the fastest route home in your mind.

“Is that refusal I am hearing?” you heard him shift in his seat, the image of him leaning forwards to put an elbow on his knee so vivid that it was as if he was before you. 

“Not at all, love, not… at all…” giving up due to your growing distraction, you let your husband have at least a little bit of hope. Clearly, the words worked wonders as with newfound vigour, Seonghwa bid you farewell.

“Then see you soon, Y/N darling.”

Soon could not come soon enough. You were glad no one could see your leg shaking under the table, and that you were well-practised in discreetly checking the time. Teasing, tugging you along to follow his game, striking you out of the blue and opening the door to the world that only you two shared. You would be lying if you said that you were thinking about anyone else while debating with an executive, or when you were brave enough to point out a blatant assumption that was used to support a projection earning yourself a few pointed questions. But nothing compared to the blaze that caressed your skin, spurred you on and made you feel alive. Your favourite deviant, seductive god, king of your heart and keeper of your soul, he gave you control just as much as he could take it away. Wiping away anxiety, he left anticipation. Erasing doubt, he left a blooming confidence.

And with that feeling and darkened gaze, you were racing against the clock, accompanied by the sound of your soles clicking against concrete, accelerating away from the skyscrapers that housed your professional victories and into winding tunnels. You mutely cursed at every delay and every pause in your commute, but nonetheless made it home in record time, astonished by the vista of the setting sun which you normally could not catch in the winter months.

---

The jingling of the keys alerted Seonghwa of your presence, and he set his phone screen down onto the kitchen table, turning to perch himself on the doorframe. He crossed his arms, a ghostly smile on his lips. Aside from going through the regular domestic chores he had planned for himself - a feat in his far from concentrated state, he had decided to be a little more forward with his demands, much to your shared excitement. This, of course, began with his appearance, or rather, a casual exposure of himself in a way you had always encouraged him to do, loving his body so genuinely that it translated into an unparalleled self-appreciation for him. At the same time, that meant that in moments just like this one, he could use your infatuation with his mind and his physique against you. All for a little bit of harmless fun.

He was right, as always. The moment you lifted your head and were about to announce your arrival, a breath hitched in your throat and words died on the tip of your tongue. Hair loose, bangs neatly falling to frame his face, and that damn jacket with a leopard print inner lining, casually thrown over his bare upper body, befitting him so well that you needed to give yourself some time before choking out a quick, feeble ‘I’m home’ and kicking off your heels. He grinned, outwardly innocent, pretending to ‘just be happy to see you, when in fact his imagination was already beginning to forgo every article of clothing you had on. Scanning your form, Seonghwa could not help but bite back a groan. Since the moment you had left this morning, he wanted you back because he wanted you. On the bed, on the table, on the counter, he did not care about the mess. In fact, if there was to be a mess, he would be all the more satisfied. His skin was burning worse than if he were to have a fever, and every moment that passed while you were going through the regular after work motions was pure torture. 

As you finished washing your hands, and were about to tiptoe past him, likely to set your bag aside in your home office, he stopped you with one, quiet utterance.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day…”

Your heart was pumping an unsteady, deafening rhythm, and your hands were on the verge of shaking. Nothing was stopping you from simply giving in… except maybe an inkling of rebellion that clung onto you. He already had you in his hold, mouldable to whatever form he wished for, but if he was to play the long game, so were you. 

“Mmm… don’t know about that. Missed the memo,” you huffed, wasting a little too much strength on forcing the phrases. Rushing past your husband, you headed to your office and pretended to be taken by both your bag and the miscellaneous stationery left on the desk. 

You heard Seonghwa stalking behind you loud and clear, hyperfocused on his catlike steps, but remained rooted to your spot. Taking every item out of your bag, painfully slow, you were rapidly succumbing to the vision of your husband taking you apart. Gorgeous tanned skin, which you knew he was purposefully flaunting to you, intoxicating plush lips which were so vivid in your mind you could almost taste them, and his skillful hands… which just so happened to now be hovering over your waist. You clenched your jaw when they found purchase on your hips, and almost guided you to stand up and be pressed right against him.

Heat was rolling off your stunning lover in waves, and it was downright unbearable to have your back be connected to his toned chest. Seonghwa had no plans of letting you go. He pulled you closer, until you could practically trace his half-hard cock with your ass. He sighed at the contact, air softly passing over your skin, and let his lips trace a broken line upwards to your ear.

“That won’t do at all…” he flexed his arms as his hands roamed your body, “Fortunately, I know exactly how to show you,” you completely blanked, “what a good husband you have.”

As he was about to toy with the buttons at the top of your shirt, the one on your jacket having been long undone, you sprung into action and stopped him, barely suppressing a smirk as you turned your head and spotted a dash of confusion in his glossy eyes.

“I do have a wonderful husband, indeed. Too bad he does not know how to behave properly,” using the moment you slipped out of his embrace, and sauntered towards the door. Seonghwa was left in shock, starved and needy, having been thinking about you, you and only you all day. But his composition returned just as rapidly as it had faltered. You slowed down before reaching the door, as if being pulled back. 

Seonghwa was, indeed, magnetic. Lithe, agile, he reminded you of a panther, slinking across the couple of metres that separated you. You were aching to rip off the beige two piece right where he stood, and involuntarily darted your tongue between your lips, much to your husband’s amusement. He was not quite as gentle this time, grabbing a hold of you until you were chest to chest and securing your position by pressing on your lower back. His breath tickled your face; your hands snaked under his jacket, running over exposed skin, worshipping every part you could both see and visualise. 

“Really, Hwa. So eager,” you mumbled, brushing your lips over his, testing the waters and seeing a lustful, desperate storm clouding his dilated pupils.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered against your cheek, leaving a tentative peck. You dared to glance at him, poking his nose with your own.

“You’re acting out… disrupting me at work… sending such dirty things to me… calling me to tell me how you want me… is this to be rewarded, my love?” a shudder rolled over Seonghwa’s body, resulting in him planting more feverish kisses over your face, moving towards your jawline and finally across to your ear, nipping it.

“How could I ever behave when I need you, and you are looking like this…” his fingers caressed the collar of your shirt, scalding hot, “and are wearing my favourite perfume…” he inhaled, as though he was drunk off your scent - it was nothing more than what had come to be your signature, a bouquet of notes that defined you, but soon enough turned to being another way in which you occupied Seonghwa’s senses. 

Both of you subconsciously moved towards the door, getting impatient. Fingertips mapped the hickeys with violently cautious touches, and Seonghwa swore that if he did not act now, he would go mad. It was ridiculous. You were his life partner, a person to whom he had committed with his entire being, and yet with every passing day his desire for you kept on growing and he was falling deeper and deeper in both love and lust. With you in his arms he was a man lost at sea, blanking out, spiralling and devoted to passion. A big difference between your time dating and your married life, however, was that he did not have to hold back on his own wishes anymore, being as explicit as he was comfortable with, knowing that you would do the same, and no matter what, pleasure would be mutual and adoring. And, he needed it. Seonghwa needed you now. His hand moved on its own accord to cup your face and guide it towards his own. Millimetres apart, he set you ablaze along with him.

“...please…” spilled out, a feeble plea. Seonghwa’s eyes were darting all around you, trying to get some kind of answer, permission, anything. You nodded. And the thread holding you two back snapped.

The kiss was messy, animalistic, far from the calm lover with whom you shared your daily life. Seonghwa did not give you a chance to breathe, instead pushing his lips against yours with the ferocity of a starved man. Unparalleled sweetness graced you as his tongue slipped inside, and he eagerly revisited the movements he found most entrancing, his occasional rough and low growls sending you into a frenzy. Your muted whine spurred him on, and he pushed your entangled forms out of the office, and into the bedroom, the door to which had been left open.

One nip, another, it was as if he wanted to mark you as his everywhere, teeth leaving a pleasant blend of satisfaction and a dull pain to spread from your lips and shoot straight to your core. You began to push off his jacket, a request which he readily accepted, leaving him constrained only by his bottoms. Seonghwa would not give you any false advantages, speedily tugging your jacket off you. His erection was pressing into your thigh, and you could not resist grinding against him, eliciting a delicious groan.

 Soon enough, your shirt and bra hastily joined your jacket on the floor, while Seonghwa spared no time in kneading one of your breasts, while feeling the air with the other in an attempt to reach the switch on the floor lamp, growling into the kiss when he missed the first couple of times and hand to open his eyes. You broke away from your husband, resting your palms on his abdomen and admiring just how pretty he looked in the warm, dimmed light that washed over the room in a flash. So it was that kind of night.

“...Want to see you…” he mumbled as he pressed his forehead against yours and locked your lips together once more, guiding you backwards towards the bed. When your legs hit its edge, he hooked his strong arm around you, a quick “careful,” escaping him.

“Let’s get this off, shall we?” gliding a finger on the inner side of the trouser waistband, he waited for you to comply. It did not take much time for you to get rid of the remaining clothes, and be left only with the full awareness of just how wet you really were.

You pressed your legs together, only for Seonghwa to inch his knee and push it in between, forcing them back apart. It was times like this when you realised that he really could read you better than you could read yourself, and any gesture, thought or fantasy, was his as much as your own.

“You’re so beautiful, no need to hide from me,” he scanned over your body, and you felt like you were on fire, melting into him. While your husband’s eyes were glazed over with lust, within them they still held so much love that your heart could burst. “Ah, wait a minute,” you watched as he removed his bottoms, and with a hiss, let his hard and leaking cock spring free. His low chuckle was music to your ears, “now we’re good.” 

“Mhm… oh Hwa… I really did make you wait…” you lowered your gaze to his cock, finger tracing a line down his stomach and stopping right before its base. He sucked in a shallow breath, nuzzling his face against yours to hide how close he was to being pushed completely over the edge. Patience was a virtue, and he barely had any left. “Let me take care of you, hm?” you suggested, trying to move to the side to gesture for Seonghwa to sit down on the bed. He remained still, and whispered against your cheek:

“No… I wanted to do that- ah-” your leg brushed against Seonghwa’s sensitive cockhead, pulling a gasp out of him.

“Then I have an idea, if you’re with me on this. Lie down for me?” pulling away, you switched where you were standing, and tilted your chin to gesture at the bed that was now in front of you. Seonghwa peered around his shoulder, and back at you, a soft, tiny smile, albeit a meek one, dancing on his lips.

“Baby you’re doing too-”

“Shush, we can make each other feel good,” promptly following Seonghwa, you were now hovering above him, playing with his necklace. 

“I love you,” he said breathlessly, making the side of your mouth curl into a half smile. 

“I love you too.”

“Now I’m craving something sweet,” you lightly slapped his chest and shook your head in an attempt to hide your amusement.

“Oh stop it…”

“I think I’ll go crazy if I don't have you sitting on my face in the next few seconds.”

“Can’t have that happening.”

You adjusted positions, and once you had your back facing Seonghwa, he pulled your hips towards him to lower your pussy over his face. Carefully, you leaned forward, relishing in the sight of your husband’s impossibly stunning body, every muscle a work of art. After finding a comfortable balance, and waiting for the initial shock of Seonghwa tasting you to turn into a continuous thrum of pleasure, you spat into your palm, and wrapped the hand around his cock. His thighs tensed in response and his grasp became tighter as he rolled his tongue over your clit.

Mirroring him, you teased his cockhead, and only then proceeded to take his length into your mouth, relaxing your jaw and moving slowly to ensure that he would not reflexively buck into you. You flattened your tongue, dragging it along the shaft and spreading spit and precum. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat. With hollowed cheeks you began to bob your head at a leisurely pace and not caring for the mess you were making at the base of his cock, clear liquid running down past the corners of your swollen lips.

Seonghwa produced a muffled noise, unable to stay completely focused while you were driving him towards his high, but not breaking contact. He sucked on your clit, making you whine while deepthroating him. Your eyes were starting to water as you wanted more, always more, and you reached to fondle his balls, pausing to get some air. Strings of saliva and precum momentarily connected you still, and the lewdness of the scene was downright pornographic. You were relentless, addicted to this man whom you had the exclusive ability to call your husband. You were the one who knew how to take him apart and put him back together. 

The wanton sounds of Seonghwa devouring your pussy stimulated you further, and the coil which had been growing tighter with every pass of his skillful tongue was ready to snap and release. A hint of a trembling sensation passed through your legs, and you sped up your own motions, your hand jerking off the base while you swirled over his tip in preparation to take him fully again. 

Seonghwa dipping his tongue between, in and out, and through your wet folds had you seeing stars, and you grinded against him. He gripped you tighter so that you would not be able to instinctively squirm and lift yourself upwards, and circled around your aroused clit, sucking it in between his lips and returning to fucking you with his tongue. His vision was clouded, he was in a daze, unable to process anything anymore, except the static fuzziness in his brain and how delicious you were.

He used up what little attention he had left on your clit, and repeated ministrations had you tipping over the edge and shuddering in his hold. Seonghwa remained buried between your legs as your climax hit you, and held you to prevent your hips from leaving him, and continued to lap at your sopping heat, catching your release. You moaned against his cock, freezing in place and letting your husband chase his high by bucking his hips upwards and using you. In no time, he was painting your mouth and your throat with thick strings of white, falling back onto the bed while you followed to try and swallow as much of his release as you could. Cum and spit was dribbling down your chin and his shaft when you were finished, and once you, with Seonghwa’s help, were laying on your side and face to face with him the unmistakable glistening fluid on his face made you love him all the more. One kiss, another, you tasted yourselves on each other’s lips, choosing to make your lungs scream rather than let go.

He was so beautiful. His loving, electric gaze - a permanent feature of his expression when it came to you. Everything about him was a reason to adore him. You brushed away a strand of hair, one which had stubbornly stuck to his forehead, only for Seonghwa to take your hand in his and plant a soft kiss on its back. You giggled, enjoying the contrast of this intimate, but lighthearted moment as opposed to the passionate exchange earlier. This was how he was, and you would not want him any different. 

You took your time regarding him, and he did the same to you. Blissful, overflowing with a want for more. His lips were on yours again, and you deepened the kiss by bunching his long inky hair in your hand. Every reaction, every gasp was your favourite music. Seonghwa rolled over and positioned himself between your legs, arms on either side. Hair perfectly framed his elegant features, and the shadows cast shapes akin to a painting you would see at a gallery. He was a masterpiece. 

“Lift your hips for me,” you followed his request, wriggling into position while he lifted himself up to take your legs and bend them towards your torso, “thank you, my love… such a pretty pussy, all mine,” the dirty talk came naturally to him, and it was not your first time hearing it, but nonetheless had you biting the inside of your cheek.

Still sensitive, you whispered his name when he glided his hardened cock between your wet folds. Coated in slick and cream, Seonghwa met no resistance and bottomed out in one stroke. Your loud moan prompted words of praise and adoration, and he was certain that nothing could ever be better than this. 

“Ah- just perfect-” you watched his face contort , eyes threatening to roll back as he started to thrust into you. 

You could barely form words, sinking into the pillows and peeking at Seonghwa through half-lidded eyes - the most you could muster. All your senses were filled with him, and you swore you were going to fall apart at any moment. Grateful for his arms supporting your legs, you physically couldn’t resist the drowning pleasure, instead trying your best to keep up with his cock drilling into you, failing whenever it brushed over your sweet spot.

“H-hwa-”

“Mm?”

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, making him push your legs further apart and crawl a little ways over you until his orbs, near black in the dimly lit room, were boring into you.

You intertwined, overlapped, transposed into something greater than yourselves. Sharing the same air, you panted in time with your lover and captured his lips with yours over, and over again. His body was so close to yours, that you could feel his necklace brushing over your chest, occasionally touching your neck. Seonghwa filled you to the hilt, the slight stretch turning your moans into barely audible mewls.

“Please- h-harder- I l-love your cock so mu-uch-”

Seonghwa cursed under his breath, drunk from your choice of words, and with one final kiss curled over you and quickened the rocking of his hips to a brutal euphoria. You were on the verge of melting, bodies turning agonisingly hot with each passing second. Your hands searched for his wrists, weakly wrapping around them for some form of support. Carnal; you were infinitely turned on by how instinctive his reactions were. You could not care for anything in the world, words turning to a garbled mess and moans loudly echoing in your husband’s ears. 

“F-fuck, you feel so good I’m-” he was fisting the bedsheets, ruthlessly pounding into you, the slapping of skin against skin and your sounds making him fall apart. 

His pace faltered as he came, legs shuddering, voice breaking as he unleashed an airy and high-pitched moan, but he still continued to thrust while he filled you with his warm load. He pushed his release deeper inside you, breathing heavily and pressing you more and more into the bedsheets. The squelching was downright filthy, but you wanted to capture every drop and threw your arms around Seonghwa as much as you could given your position, simply so he could be flush against you. He hissed through gritted teeth as your walls began to clench around his aching length, prompting aftershocks from his orgasm.

“Hwa-a, I’m coming, I- don’t stop please-”

“Come for me, love,” his gentleness, even in such a feverish moment, was your undoing. The thread you had been clinging onto snapped.

Your head fell back against the pillows, and if it wasn’t for Seonghwa’s form securing you from above, you knew you would be arching off the bed, uncontrollable. You called out his name like a mantra, and in your ecstatic haze could sense him slowing down, helping both of you ride out your intense climaxes. Vision spinning, you did not dare move, instead transforming into a pliable doll for Seonghwa to rearrange. Shakily, he let go of the bed sheets and sat upright, tapping your legs to relax. Lazily, you stretched out, heart still racing, and barely registered the dip of the mattress next to you. 

When you turned, your husband was there, head resting on his hand, propped up by his elbow. He was studying you with a small smile, and when he noticed you were more present, leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hello,” it was almost unbelievable, just how honey sweet he could be in a matter of seconds, making you more shy than during sex. This made you all too aware and critical of your current state, and you turned your head to search for something to cover yourself with, until you heard a sigh escape your husband, “It’s like I’m dreaming. You’re so enchanting.”

He fell fully by your side, draping an arm over your upper body and gingerly massaging your hip. It was rare for him to not rush to clean both of you off, but you were not complaining about this kind of moment of closeness. It felt raw. It felt real. You got to fall in love for the nth time. Seonghwa’s face was rosy, blushed, and he was just barely steadying himself, but even then, was not letting go of you, choosing to retain all physical proximity in favour of going about routines. HIs cum is smeared over your folds, was dripping onto the covers and had smeared across your inner thighs, you had remnants of spit and release on your face, and yet he was still looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. His one and only. 

“Not too sore? Shall I run a bath?” He poked your nose with his own, grinning when you ran a hand over the side of his face.

“Mm… I’m fine. But a bath would be nice. Can we…”

“Want me to join?”

“Mhm. Want you to give me a head massage.”

“Ah, of course, at your service-”

“Come on…” you chuckled at his joke and trailed off, pausing to stare deep into his eyes, musing everything and nothing all at once.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking how you should send me pictures more often,” a hint of darkness flashed in his eyes; mischief, future schemes formulating themselves. You traced past love bites, ran a finger over his plump lips which were equally as red and swollen as yours, you bet. 

“Mm, you changed your mind I see. None of that ‘I am at work’ anymore, then?”

“Maybe you should be the one who is worried now,” you shot back with a smirk.

Seonghwa sat up, swinging his legs over to the edge of the bed, but turning back to give you one last adoring look before launching into a routine long-familiar to you. In no time, you would be taking careful sips of water while waiting for the bath to fill, and your husband would be telling you to stay put, having returned from the clouds and back to finding it unbearable to have clothes on the floor and creasing. Your heart swelled. He was everything at once, flipping switches, changing from one second to the next while still being his gorgeous self. Before, it had made you confused, flustered. Now, you just loved him. There was no other way to put it. You got to see every curve and edge, and always discovered something new. 

“I’ll be impatiently waiting.”

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[amongemeraldclouds]

bookstore meet cute | jess mariano | flufftober masterlist | 729 words

a/n: special tag for the lovely @thatdammchickennugget ♡ glad you're back in your gilmore girls phase!

Your eyes lit up when you found the book you were looking for at the store. This was the third bookshop you had visited and you were starting to lose hope you'd ever get a copy of it.

You had already read The Subsect from the library, but you liked it enough to have wanted your own copy. It was a coming of age story that was sarcastic but meaningful, raw and relatable. The character felt like a friend you had known for years.

It was rare that a book could make you feel that way and you greatly admired the author. Your hands itched to underline phrases and annotate paragraphs. Now there it was, right in front of you.

As you reached out to take it, a stranger approached you and grabbed it first. You stared back at him, aghast. It was the last copy on the shelf.

"I got here first," you huffed.

"What's so good about this one?" He asked, scanning the cover. You looked at him with his geled hair and sharp jaw, mischief glinting in his eye. He was cute, it was a shame he was such an asshole.

"You're the one holding the book, you tell me," you bit back, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Answer my question and I'll give it to you," he offered.

"Stop harrassing my customers, Jess!" the owner called out from the counter. "This boy will run me out of business, I swear," she said fondly, giving you an apologetic smile.

"You know I'm your favorite," he replied to her with a charming grin and she waved him off as she turned to greet a new customer, not denying it.

"Well," he said, handing the book to you. You studied the book and frowned.

"The woman called you Jess..." you started, piecing things together.

"That is my name," he nodded.

"What are the odds that you're the Jess Mariano who wrote this book?" your eyes widened a fraction.

He tilted his head, "maybe, depends who's asking."

"This is why you should never meet your heroes," you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes. "Don't let that get to your head," you warned him as an afterthought.

He raised his hands as if he wouldn't dare. "I'm not usually one to judge someone's life choices, but why me?"

"You know what, I'm asking that very same question myself right now," you brought your fingers to your chin.

He laughed, "and what's your answer?"

"To be determined," you decided. "You should at least buy me a coffee first before asking about my life decisions."

You regretted the words as soon as it left your mouth. "Shit, no. I did not mean to ask you out," heat rose to your cheeks and you wanted to be anywhere else but here.

"Technically, you asked me to ask you out. And you know what? I think it's a great idea. Want to grab a coffee with me?"

You frowned, "you don't even know my name."

He just shrugged, "maybe that's another question you can answer over coffee."

You smiled at his persistence, "you invite all your readers out for coffee?"

"Just the ones who call me their hero."

You winced at his words, "what time do you get off work?"

"As it so happens, I'm due for my lunch break," he said. "I can ring that up for you then we can go, there's a place nearby that serves great coffee."

"I'll have to check my calendar." You considered for a moment and thought of all the questions about the book that you wanted to ask, you could now get answers straight from the source. You tamped down your excitement, you had already embarrassed yourself enough for a day.

"Works for me. You move fast, Jess Mariano," you said nonchalantly as you both moved towards the counter.

"I know what I want, name-to-be-discovered-soon-over-coffee," he said as he finished up and handed you the shopping bag.

You laughed, "you can call me y/n."

"And you can call me your hero. Oh wait, you already did," he teased.

"You'll never let me live that down, won't you?"

"Not until I hear something more interesting over coffee. No pressure," he winked before he moved away for a second to inform the owner he'd be taking his break.

He then returned and reached his hand out to you, "right then, shall we?"

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3

Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6

Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9

Chapter 10. - Chapter 11. - Chapter 12

Chapter 13. - Chapter 14. - Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Word Count: 1708

Chapter 16:

Once again, and as it was expected, arguments soon rose between the coven members. Yet through those arguments, confessions quickly came to light.

Like the fact that Alice recognised those markings, and was forced to expose one of her deepest secrets.

"I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit, that I couldn't save her" she confessed, refusing to meet any of your gazes. "I convinced myself they were birthmarks. Even though she had the same ones"

Jen seemed to connect the dots the fastest. "Wait, are we talking about a generational curse?"

You held back a groan the best you could, and all that was heard from you was a forced sigh.

Generational curses were the worst of the curses and you had been lucky to avoid them in your prolonged life. They were almost impossible to break, their bases so dark it was almost supernatural in terms of power.

While the tensions between the group intensified, you felt a sharp acute pain coming from both your shoulders.

With a loud gasp, you leaned forward; eyes wide open as you felt as if someone had touched a torch right on your skin.

You could not help but hiss and close your eyes momentarily, trying not to let this pain make you lose focus or have you on the ground.

Once was enough, your pride was not going to let you fall victim to it again; let alone let it make you kneel.

"Fuck" you cursed as you opened your eyes, pressing your teeth against one another and watched Alice rush your way.

To her surprise, you lifted your hand and motioned for her not to approach; confusing them group. Mastering all the self-control you had, you brought your free hand, placed it on the shoulder burning the most, and started to chant something under your breath.

White magic was barely noticeable beneath your hand, but a few seconds after, you constantly repeated some sort of mantra; you felt free of the pain, and you could breathe again.

Panting faintly, you looked at your audience; only two were not utterly surprised by your actions. The rest were both curious and slightly suspicious.

"How did you do that?" Alice asked, not expecting to have another protection witch in the group.

"Anti-curse spell. Works on the caster only, " you explained, not daring to check your skin for any marks.

You would deal with them later, when you would be free of any trial related danger.

Jen narrowed her eyes. "An anti-curse spell powerful enough to keep away a generational curse?" She asked rhetorically, clearly not believing you.

You had been honest on that part, feeling no need to lie. You had to give it to Jen for not settling for the breadcrumbs you had just given them.

However, now it was not the time to go into depth how you made such spell work.

Thankfully for you, the trial or the curse were furious with your little trick and chose to attack a different coven member... Teen.

Though this time, there was no burning sensation or anything mystical.

No, this time, something invisible hit the boy with so much force; it sent him flying.

You gasped and placed your hands in front of your mouth as you saw Teen being thrown mid air, smashing through the two way mirror glass of the recording booth and landing outside; right in the control room.

Everyone rushed to check on him, fearing for the worst after such attack; none questioning why the boy was attacked differently than the rest.

Thankfully, Teen was alright or at least not critically injured. He was even smiling faintly as he noticed almost everyone surrounding him; Jen having chosen to stay in the protective circle.

"Hey." He greeted weakly. "I got attacked by the curse. Does that mean I'm part of the coven?"

His innocent question made you smile faintly, relieved that he was okay. You slowly helped him to stand up, carefully ensuring he would not collapse any moment now.

"Blessings and burdens alike." You told him, seeing his naive little smile growing.

As you all gathered back in the recording booth, you started to discuss how to deal with this curse; the time on the metronome continuing ticking but this time you didn't know just how much Time you had been left.

In the end, by inspecting the broken record; a solution was found. Since the curse came from the record played backwards, the only way to battle it is to play the song normally.

Ironically, the song was none other than the Ballad of the Witches Road; sang by none other than Alice's mother, Lorna Wu.

Also, the genius mind of Agatha made the ultimate deduction.

"What did Lorna want from The Road? What was her intention? To save her daughter. You should have burnt to a crisp years ago, but here you are. Sullen and aimless, but alive. That's because at any given moment somewhere, someone is playing that song that you hate so much. Lorna's Ballad is a protection spell. It protected you."

Agatha's words seemed to bypass any of Alice's defenses, trying to win her over and give her the courage to play the song. Every member of the coven had to participate and since that trial was related to her mother, Alice was the centre of it all.

At Agatha's words, you could not help but glance to the ground momentarily. Hearing of Lorna's love for her daughter, going as far as to create a song spell to save her daughter... it made your heart ache.

You barely knew your mother, anything about her a distant and blurry memory at the very back of your mind. At least your birth mother, that is.

You did not have a motherly figure in your life, many witches doing the bare minimum to help you, but none wished to get attached to you; even though you were a little orphan girl.

Perhaps this was what had attracted you to Agatha in the first place. Being older than you and actually interested in being part of your life, had made you form an incredible bond with her; even if someone might argue this bond was one way.

Sometimes, though, you did wish to know more.

To know if this woman you had called your mother as a child, ghe very same one tht had chosen to look after and raise you, would have done something similar to protect you, rather than leaving through the door one morning and letting you wake up alone to an empty house.

You had never managed to find her again, and as for your birth mother, you had done a lot of research and got some answere; though you wouldn't mind to know more.

However, you feared it would not be possible; not with your situation.

Feeling a pair of eyes, you dared to search for them; only to see Agatha studying you. It was her turn to read through your fake mask and read your intentions, the topic of a mother hard to both of you; for different reasons.

Trying to look the other way, you were caught by Rio. She seemed to be intensely staring at you, though her gaze was soft; and you could swear you saw something that looked like sympathy or even regret.

"So," you cleared your throat. "Who plays what?" You asked, hoping to change the topic and also remind everyone that the metronome was still ticking.

"Okay, who's good on piano? Lilia?" Agatha asked, driving to take the lead since no one else was willing to do so.

"No. No, I studied the zils." The older witch argued. "And a little pan flute."

Defeated, Agatha turned to the other witch. "Jen."

"Ballet."

"Oh, come on, guys!" She groaned, not believing they were in such situation.

Their lives were depending on a stupid song, and no one seemed to have any music experience.

"I play guitar. Sort of." Teen informed a little shyly.

You chose to join. "I also do"

Your words made Agatha stare at you with an arched eyebrow. Her expression was literally screaming 'since when?'

You offered her a plain simple smile, unable to explain to her that you learnt Guitar during a difficult new moon; and then you kept it as a hobby.

Agatha did not comment about it but you could see the twinkle of interest in her blue eyes. When all of this was done and you had reached the end of the road, she would definitely ask you more about it; perhaps even make you play something for her.

Definitely not the Ballad of the Witches Road.

After some discussion that almost led to a argument between Jen and Agatha; you all found your respective instruments.

Rio had the drums, Alice the piano, Jen the Bass, Lilia the Zils (surprising everyone such instrtument was present) and you with Teen had the guitars.

"I am not sure how well I can play this" the boy confesed to you in a hushed tone as he fixed his grip on the instrument.

You both stood side by side.

"It's not a hard one. If you get stuck, follow my lead" you reassured him, a small smile just enough to make him relax a little bit.

He did and offered a small smile in return while trying to fix the guitar strap, all while doing the best to ignore the sharp pain coming from the side of hid abdomen.

Then, you did not notice it and failed to see that his landing was not as smooth or harmless as you thought it was.

Once everyone was ready, the lightning in the room changed and slowly you started to play the beat of the Ballad.

Agatha stood in the middle, right in front of the microphone and yet before she could truly start singing; the curse attacked her too.

"Agatha!" You and Teen exclaimed, almost rushing to her side.

"Keep playing!" She hissed, having bent one knee and supporting herself on the mike stand. "Keep playing!"

Left with no choice, you all focused on the rhythm as Agatha started to sing.

Chapter 17

[indigosunsetao3]

Older CIA Alex

NSFW | 18+ | Age gap/dad's employee/forbidden Please check AO3 for tags

Perspective: Female reader

We're going to work this like Ex-Husband Price where I expand on things here and there. I just had to get this listed out.

So much for 'next few days'. I swear these ideas will eat me alive if I don't write them out.

OCIA!Alex - Was in your father's office when you walked in to meet him for lunch. He rose from his chair the moment you entered, a sign of respect and also that he would be leaving. You give him a small smile which he returns before slipping out the door.

OCIA!Alex - Casually asks your dad about you, and how the lunch went, when he returns from an overseas mission weeks later. It's not very out of place, Alex is an observant man, but the fact it was over a month later and he recalled where you went to lunch together struck your dad as interesting.

OCIA!Alex - Accepts your father's offer to join a few of the group for dinner. Your father always extended the invite to his whole team which Alex declined each time with an excuse. Except this time when he finds out, you'll also be at this dinner. Your father questions his sudden change of heart to which Alex answers charity is important.

OCIA!Alex - Is careful to make sure he is seated next to you at the charity gala. He's in his dress blues looking polished and the attention he pays you has you flustered. All evening he keeps you engaged in conversation, pulls out your chair for you, and makes sure your glass is never empty. In an effort to make a friend you give Alex your number as if he didn't already have it, and your social media accounts, saved in one of his burners after a bit of digging so he could learn more about you. Your father notices the friendly exchanges and makes sure to have a conversation with his subordinate. (Lunch and Dinner Date can be found here)

OCIA!Alex - Barely bats an eye at the fact you are almost twelve years younger than him. What's age really when you were both adults? He's even less phased by the fact your father lets him know you're fresh out of a long-term relationship which is why you were living with him for the time being. That explains why Alex hadn't seen you before and why you subconsciously ran your thumb over your ring finger all evening to play with a ring that was no longer there. Your father warns him, in a casual but firm tone, that you are off limits; he kept family and work separate for a reason. Alex assures him he was just being friendly, Sir.

OCIA!Alex - Volunteers to assist you in moving to your new apartment in exchange for a couple of beers. You texted him out of desperation, no friends in town, and your father is not the young man he used to be. It was the first time you had messaged him, he had been waiting none too patiently. Alex agrees, he's got the time and it's an excuse to see you again. Your father would have been more suspicious of this if he wasn't relieved to not be the only person lugging your furniture up three flights of stairs. (Move In Day can be found here)

OCIA!Alex - Swings by when you send him a message at one in the morning that the AC unit is on the fritz. The landlord didn't deem it an emergency and your father was out of town. The apartment is beyond sweltering and there isn't even a breeze to help. It was more of a venting session, you had been talking more often via text through the past couple of weeks, but Alex takes it upon himself to give you a hand.

OCIA!Alex - Fixes the unit enough that it's at least blowing semi-cool air. He insists on hanging around to make sure it doesn't go out again, promising it's not a problem. "Too hot to try and sleep without some air." You offer him some leftover pizza before joining him on the couch, a good distance away because it's too hot. Yet somehow you end up with your feet resting in his lap and his fingers massaging out the soreness from wearing heels all day. (Midnight Maintenance can be found here)

OCIA!Alex - Texts you even when he's gone overseas. He's polite in his timing, making sure he doesn't disturb you when you should be sleeping or at work. You are less restrained, finding you stare at the phone waiting for the next message like an impatient teenager. You tell yourself it's because he's the only real friend you've got around and it's lonely when he's gone. Then when he sends you an audio message you nearly fall out of your chair listening to his silky smooth voice as he tells you about his day.

OCIA!Alex - Smirks to himself in his bunk at night when you start sending him pictures. Innocent ones of course. Things you saw on your walk, sighing in frustration at another video meeting at work, the dinner you made (and didn't burn!), and the weird neighbor downstairs who only checks her mail at night. But then a not so innocent one pops on his phone after you've had a few glasses of wine.

OCIA!Alex - Avoids your father's questions as he tries to probe and see just what your relationship is. He had tried you when he saw your phone buzz with a text from Alex when he stopped by. You maintained you were just friends, that Alex was a nice guy but too old for you. That was, if friends sent lingerie and shower pictures to one another...and instructed the other just what to do when they were feeling particularly needy and lonely.

OCIA!Alex - Doesn't let your dad know he took a flight back two days early, and neither do you. He barely makes it into your apartment before you jump him and insist the uniform stays on. Those two extra days are spent solely at your apartment before Alex reports back to your dad, who is none the wiser. Even if Alex has hickeys all over his neck and his clothes reek of your perfume.

OCIA!Alex - Has to play nice when your father has an award ceremony and he insists you meet a few of his friend's sons. Your father determined you've been alone for too long, not enough friends, and is trying to get you back out there. He doesn't see Alex staring down each man as if they are his next target. Nor does he see the two of you slip away before his speech.

OCIA!Alex - Is unimpressed when you start spending time with others, men your own age in particular. You insist it's to keep your dad's suspicions away because he's been asking very leading questions, he's not dumb. And also, you had both agreed that whatever this was it was only a hookup, no commitment. Alex had his job and you wouldn't risk your father's ire.

OCIA!Alex - Agrees, two can play this game. He starts making some other 'friends' of his own and grins as he notices the worry in your tone that he's turned the tables. Jealously is a young person's game and he knows exactly how he feels about you, it's just getting you to admit it yourself. Your father seems a bit more relaxed that the two of you seem to spending less time together.

OCIA!Alex - Is sent out on a particularly long assignment in Europe. After three weeks of being gone and radio silent he knows he won this battle of wills when he gets a notification of an airfare purchase. He's hardly shocked to find you waiting outside of his hotel room he booked under his fake name. You are your father's daughter after all.

OCIA!Alex - Tells you to let him worry about your father as you lay sprawled on top of him. He's dealt with bigger issues from smaller targets before. You attempt to talk about it more but he silences you as he rolls you under him.

OCIA!Alex - Has a conversation with your father. (We're not going to give away the ending here 😉)

[whencyclopedia]

Harlech Castle

Harlech Castle, located in North Wales, was first built by Edward I of England (r. 1272-1307 CE) from 1283 CE. Largely completed by 1290 CE, the castle received some further additions up to 1330 CE. A classic example of a concentric medieval castle, Harlech skilfully used local topography, the sea, and imposing towers to represent a formidable challenge to any attackers, as proven in the lengthy sieges of the Welsh rebellions and the Wars of the Roses during the turbulent 15th century CE. Harlech Castle is listed by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site.

Edward I's Castle Building

From 1272 CE Edward I, the new king of England, conquered most of Wales and joined it with the county system present in England. Following the death of Llywelyn, the Prince of Wales, in 1282 CE, the only part of Wales which remained free was the wild mountainous north and here the king built several major castles which included Caernarfon Castle, Conwy Castle, and Harlech Castle. Work began on Harlech Castle in June 1283 CE, the vast team of labourers, masons, and craftsmen being supervised by Master James of Saint Georges (c. 1235-1308 CE), the experienced architect and engineer who had previously built castles in Europe and who would be involved in many of Edward's other Welsh castles.

As with any major castle, the choice of location would be the key to its chances of withstanding siege or attacks. Harlech was built on one of the most secure spots any castle was erected upon, sited on a rocky crag which rose straight out of the sea (today the sea has receded). There was also vital access to a small port or quay which meant that in times of trouble the castle could easily be supplied by boats (although one does not envy the porters who had to climb the 100+ steps with their heavy loads). The king visited the site in person to check progress over three days in August 1283 CE, and by the end of the first major building phase, he must have been happy with the results as he made Master James constable of the castle in 1290 CE, a position he would hold until 1293 CE.

Harlech would, by 1303 CE, eventually cost 8,184 pounds to construct (around $11 million today) but that was still a third cheaper than the cost of Caernarfon or Conwy. This is because the castle was both smaller and less ornate in its stonework and design. Even more significantly, the castle used local stone and so avoided the heavy costs of transportation of cumbersome materials. Another 400 pounds were spent on the castle between 1303 and 1330 CE.

Continue reading...

[staretes]

to sail a ship

synopsis: when you first boarded the express, you immediately managed to become close friends with the archivist of the express.  but march doesn't miss the softness in dan heng's eyes, reserved only for you. likewise, march watched as you awkwardly tried to make conversation with him, tinges of red dusted on your cheeks. ever since then, march has made it her personal mission to get the both of you together thankfully for you two, march has the knowledge of hundred of romance shows at her disposal.

tags: dan heng x reader, fluff w.c: 1.5k a/n: aaah first oneshot ^_^ reader is gn, however, they are described by himeko as pretty

phase one: get both of you to recognize your feelings for each other! 

"so (name), what do you think of dan heng?"

"huh?!"

march's question's caught you off guard as you started scrambling for an answer. the both of you were in the express parlor car, sipping on juice, when march suddenly popped the question out of the blue. "he's great. i mean, he's a pretty reliable member of our team." you laughed nervously, familiar hints of rose creeping up your face.

"well everyone knows that, but would you date him?" march pressed on.

"uh…" march could practically see the gears turning in your head. but once march saw the small shift in your eyes and the light roses on your face blossoming into crimson petals, she knew her work was done.

"oh no!" march gasps "i totally forgot, i promised to do something for himeko!" she stood up. "bye bye! let's chat again another time, okay?" and before you could get a word in, march had skipped off to her room giggling, leaving you to mull over your thoughts.

however, dan heng proved to be a little (a lot) more challenging. 

“hey dan heng, what do you think of (name)?” march inquired after barging into his room after “needing help” with her camera.  “they’re a good friend.” dan heng responded curtly, keeping his eyes locked onto the data bank. “if you don’t need anything else, please leave. the archives is not a place for chitchat.”

after march was forced to leave sulking, she had no choice but to drag himeko into it.

himeko manages to corner dan heng after a meeting with the other express members. “dan heng, how do you feel about name? aren’t they pretty?” 

after hearing that last part, dan heng’s ears turns scarlet, and he only manages to muster out a small “mhm”. 

himeko watched him stumble over his words, and teases, “it’s obvious you like them a lot, you should ask them out! you two look cute together.” 

march, watching dan heng excuse himself with his face glowing red from afar, silently promises to treat himeko to a large cup of coffee

phase two:  help both of you pursue each other!

you used your shirt to polish the little keychain that you bought at a souvenir shop at a planet the express stopped at that day. as you awkwardly stood outside dan heng’s room, you couldn’t help but remember how you got here. 

you were shopping for souvenirs for pom pom with march, when she excitedly tapped you on the shoulder. “hey, doesn’t this cat look like dan heng?”  you squinted at the keychain of the cat. the little white cat had red, black and teal spots and a grumpy expression carved into its face with gold. besides the cat, there were little maple leaf charms hanging from the keychain.  it really does look like dan heng, you smiled softly. march, noticing the awe on your face, giggled, “you should buy it for him! he’ll like it a lot!”  “you think so?” you looked at her apprehensively  “if its from you, of course he’ll like it!” march laughs, pretending not to see the faint blush on your cheeks as she pushes you towards the cashier. 

as you stand outside the door dan heng’s room, hesitating before knocking on it softly.  the door swings open, and dan heng looks surprised to see you. 

“ah, (name), i was just looking for you.”

“huh?” you looked at him in confusion. “do you need anything?”

“it’s nothing important. it’s just…” he holds out a small phone charm. your breath hitched. it was made of sparkling beads of your favorite color and at the end, there was a little cat charm that bore a resemblance to you. "you mentioned once that you were fond of cats, so i thought you would like this phone charm.”

you take the phone charm and cradle it gently in your hands, before tenderly attaching it to your phone. “ thank you. i'll cherish it forever,” you whispered with a small grin on your face. 

noticing his gaze fall on the keychain still tightly in your grasp, you suddenly felt heat rise to your cheeks and neck. you almost forgot!  , “i got you something too! i was at a shop with march and it reminded me of you, so… here!” you ramble hurriedly as you put the keychain into his hands, ignoring your racing heart when your hands make contact.  “thanks for the phone charm, i really like it! sorry for disturbing you, have a great night!” you bow to say your goodbyes as you hastened to return to your room.

dan heng, who was left at his doorway in a daze, shuts his door as his hands are gently clutching the keychain. as he carefully inspects it, he smiled softly as his heart flutters in his chest. his cheeks are red as he furiously typed a long thank you to himeko for helping him pick out the phone charm. 

phase three: wait for the confession!

dan heng was unable to sleep that night. 

his head was filled with thoughts from his interaction with you. his heart is still beating wildly at the sight of you holding the phone charm he gave you as if it was the most previous thing in the world, before giving him something because it reminded you of him. he feels his lips form a small grin endearingly. aeons, he really did like you a lot. he tosses and turns before giving up and goes to the parlor car to try and put his mind to rest. 

his heart skips a beat when he finds you sitting there, looking into the blank space absent-mindedly. he greets you with a small “hello.” as he sits next to you

you snap out of your thoughts, and smile nervously, “hey. can't sleep either?"

he nods, and you both sit awkwardly in silence before dan heng speaks up "i realize that i never thanked you for the keychain. thank you. i like it a lot." 

you beam, and dan heng feels his heart melt. "it's no problem. actually, march helped me pick it out" you admit. "although i didn't expect you to remember that i liked cats."

"you mentioned it once. of course i remember. " dan heng responds, amused. 

you bring up the topic of how the little cat on the end of the keychain you gave him was a calico cat, and you liked those because you found them cute, and dan heng once again remembers that it reminded you of him. the two of you chat late into the night, dan heng's eyes growing softer and softer as he watches you passionately rant to him about everything that piqued your interest recently. you were just so captivating. 

"how about you? what's on your mind recently?"

"you."

the word slips through his lips and before he realizes what he said, your face has turned completely red.

he stammers as he tries to pull himself together, "i apologize, i didn't mean for it to come out that way i-" 

"you've been on my mind recently too." 

you whispered softly, looking anywhere else but him. "hey, we still have a six days before the express leaves this planet, and i saw a small café in the main city when i was hanging out with march. do you want to come with me tomorrow? "

dan heng's heart soars as a small flicker of hope alights in his chest. "yes, i would like that." he nods, ears still a shade of crimson.

"great!" you smiled in relief. "as for the meantime though-h…" you yawned, stifling it into your mouth.

"are you tired? it's late, you should head back to your room" dan heng furrowed his eyebrows. "come on, i'll walk you." he stands up. 

you nod sleepily, eyes half lidded, as he puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you to your room. as he watches you lie down on your bed, he can’t help but think about how soft your bed looked compared to his mattress. reluctant to leave you, he tells himself that you needed to rest, so he wishes you a good night and begins to leave.

"please stay."

he hears your sleepy voice behind him and pauses. "you can sleep in my bed tonight. i don't mind.

he hesitates, before lying down next to you. pillows and stuffed toys are scattered throughout the beds.  it's cute. he smiles tenderly. he feels you inch closer and closer to him until your head is on his chest. he relaxes as he cards his fingers through your soft hair. "good night, (name). sweet dreams."

the next morning, march peeks through your door, intending to talk to you about dan heng, and instead finds the two of you fast asleep, dan heng's arm wrapped around you, legs intertwined together. the plan worked better than she intended, she grins smugly and takes a picture to send to himeko, never intending to let the two of you live it down.

mission accomplished!

[not-goldy]

Looks like they went into solo chapter, not defining how want to carry on with their relationship. That's why they weren't on the same page in terms of expectations. Jimin seemed fine being away, while jk was pouting about it.

My kind of gossip 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Well may be....

But I do think they had clearly defined plans strategy and expectations but had a problem with its execution....

It's one thing to plan something and another to execute it. And I mean these are not robots they can't just shut off their emotions and feelings or needs.

If constant communication with JM is what Jungkook wanted he could have said that to Jimin. He could have said, look man I know we said we were gonna do this and that and focus on this and that but I'm not doing so well and I need to hear from you more.

Jimin probably over there thinking damn this dude is doing better than I'd thought he would he's handling this phase so well and if he's doing well I better suck if up and do what's needed of me.

and I don't think it's a case of JM being okay being away- it's more he's committed to the plan even it guts him. He's that type of guy.

And let's all not act like we weren't concerned for them in their Solo phase going into Military due to their seemingly over dependence.

I mean towards the beginning of solo we did say they seemed to be acting professionally less codependent and what not and then Jimin went and got his own place and all.

And human emotions are funny.

They can both agree to keep separate homes but that doesn't stop one or both from feeling rejected by the very idea and execution.

Let's flash back to the time Jungkook said he didn't want to be teams with Jimin- even though we all know he was just joking you could tell it did get to Jimin.

Talking of which, they both sometimes aren't aware how they each make the other feel. We are out here watching them from the outside in, and we see how JMs absence affects Jungkook but unless JK tells him that there's no way of him knowing but we know cos we see the other side they both don't.

Jimin is good at saying to JK his vulnerabilities but JK just acts out his vulnerabilities.

They can agree to concentrate on their Solo careers and work hard but doesn't stop one or both from feeling lonely etc.

People are quick to bring up JM saying he's lonely but also fail to see how that's him saying and expressing how all these things make him feel.

I'm talking about the life he lives, not just that he misses Jungkook, the compromises he makes in his life, the distance he keeps from people to protect them or himself, the performance he puts on because it's expected of him, all the hiding a huge part of who he is if he's queer can be lonely.

He's relationship with Kook is expected to be complicated and at times even less fulfilling if this is what they have to do to keep it.

It's why I don't really pay attention to people who talk about that or bring up the quality of their relationship. We don't expect this to be a bed of roses for them.

Some people express chronic loneliness as an offshoot of burn out and depression or when you feel there aren't many people around them they can relate to.

When I see Jimin I see a man who doesn't have that many people he feels he can relate to and that can feel pretty lonely as well especially if you are surrounded by people whom you have to cater to all the time, people whom you have to walk on egg shells around, never being able to let your guard down, always having to be the reasonable mature one who can't make mistakes you always have to be the thoughtful one thinking twice and three times about things anticipating everyone's needs while those around you are just too slow to keep up or are simply not like him at all.

I think depending on how you look at things they are on the same page in so far as they've been able to successfully pull all this off.

For Jungkook if all this got to him at some point then I'll say he lasted longer than expected cos dude has a very low tolerance of their closet with its glass ceilings.

He's doing so well I'm proud of him and for once he saw the plan through 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[squadmuse]

NSFW ALPHABET

THE SONNY CARISI EDITION

A - Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sonny is very affectionate and very attentive. If you’re hungry, then he’s offering to whip something up in the kitchen. If you’re feeling sweaty then he’s offering to run a bath. If you’re feeling sore then he’s offering to give you a massage.

B - Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s body)

Sonny likes his mouth. He knows a single word said in a certain way can have you wet as sin and that his tongue can leave your pussy absolutely wrecked. On you, Sonny loves your legs and how toned they are but he also loves the swell of your breasts.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum basically…)

Sonny is a traditional guy so he loves to cum in your pussy foremost. But he is a former Catholic school boy so he isn’t against getting kinky with you and cumming on your face & other places.

D - Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sonny has a secret folder on his phone that is filled with nsfw photos of you, taken on his professional camera. It helps him when he’s working long hours at Hogan Place alone or if he has to travel for a case. He just loves being able to photograph you in lingerie or in the nude, and it being your little secret that you both share.

E - Experience (how experienced are they, do they know what they are doing?)

Sonny isn’t the one to have one night stands, but he’s a quick learner and becomes very knowledgeable about what turns you on and your sensitive areas. I do feel he might’ve had a fling or two at college in a secret crazy phase, and that he had hidden Playboy magazines too.

F - Favourite Position (again, pretty self explanatory…)

Sonny Carisi, the vanilla ice cream man… he just loves missionary so much as he adores being so close to you, getting to kiss you as he fucks you so intimately. That doesn’t mean it’s bad, oh no Sonny absolutely wrecks you!

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment or are they more humorous?)

Hmm… Sonny can be either. He’s a chatty, goofy guy and perhaps says something that ends up with the two of you in a bout of laughter. But he can be a man on a mission, determined to make you orgasm one after another.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Sonny is very well groomed. He takes pride in his appearance in every way and it’s no difference down under.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? Are they romantic?)

Oh Sonny is so intimate and so romantic… sex is more than just sex to him. He’s with you because he absolutely loves and adores you, it’s an extension of his love for you. Sonny is all about the emotional connection within it! Candles, rose petals, body oils and massages… he’s going to spoil you so much!

J - Jack Off (masturbation…)

It happened more so when he was single, but now that he’s in a relationship with you he doesn’t do it as much. It only happens if one of you are out of town and doing phone sex with the other.

K - Kink (what are their kink/s?)

Breeding kink 110%. Sonny has such a big breeding kink and wants a large family with you… he wants to see you swell with his babies. But Sonny, that former Catholic schoolboy is quite kinky once you’re in a stable relationship together… phone sex, spanking, handcuffs, edging, lingerie, dominant/submissive, mirror sex, roleplay, titfucking etc..

L - Location (where are their favourite places to do the do?)

Sonny likes the privacy of home first and foremost. While he’s not against riling you up in public, that is all he’ll do until the two of you get home. Now… when home? It’s open season - bathroom, living room, dining room, hallway, the entire house has been christened more than once!

M - Motivation (what turns them on, what gets them going?)

A few things that you do can get Sonny going. He loves seeing how good you are with babies and children like his nieces, cousins and godchildren as it gets his breeding kink in overdrive. He loves seeing you opinionated and intelligently standing up for yourself and others, and he loves seeing you dressed up (but also seeing you in nothing but slinky lingerie). Sonny also loves seeing you being domestic, cooking etc. as it just kicks something off within him.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs?)

Sonny is all about consent. He will never do anything without consent from you, he’s seen too much via his work in the police department and the district attorney’s office to do anything else. He’ll never hurt you either, the most he’ll do is spanking your ass.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill etc)

Sonny is a giver and loves to eat you out. He’s at his happiest making you feel good and sex is no different. However, he won’t say no to a blowjob (and a few times it resulted in a risqué rendezvous in his locked office)

P - Pace (are they fast and rough, soft and sensual?)

Sonny is a romantic and loves to make soft, sensual love to you. But sometimes he or you need to fuck like rabbits and have the bed creaking like mad.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often etc.)

With Sonny’s job in the district attorney’s office, he has longer hours than before and sometimes a quickie is all the either of you have time for, before or after work. But Sonny loves it either way, getting to be so intimate with you. Quickies also happen more often when you’re trying for a baby too.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Sonny isn’t the biggest risk taker. He isn’t against experimenting in bed, he just feels there isn’t any need as the two of you have such great sex wherever you are. Now he does have a locked secret photo album on his phone and does phone sex with you every so often, but that is as risky as Sonny will get.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

A few rounds are the usual for Sonny, but he puts a lot of foreplay in beforehand for you.

T - Toys (do they own toys, do they use toys? on a partner or themselves?)

Sonny isn’t that keen on toys, other than his old handcuffs being used. Blindfolds maybe and perhaps some edible chocolate?

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sonny loves to tease you, he knows exactly what you like and will repeatedly rile you up with a sneaky smirk on his face. But sometimes it’s unintentional on his part, he just gets you so needy doing mundane things.

V - Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make etc?)

Sonny is somewhat loud, and he loves to talk during sex but it’s not just dirty talk. He groans, moans and checks in on you.

W - Wild Card (random headcanon)

Sonny wants to have sex with you in his childhood bedroom back in Staten Island… he just won’t do it with his parents there and is waiting for the next time they go away on vacation and need a house sitter.

X - X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His cock is long and slim like the rest of him, and Sonny is uncut.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Sonny’s sex drive can be high at times, but with what he sees at work it can make him low. With the hours you both work that can make you need each other so much, but weekends are usually the best time.

Z - Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards)

Sonny won’t fall asleep until he has made sure that you are okay and feel satisfied and sated. He’ll cuddle into you, either as the big spoon or your head on his chest, and let slumber take hold.

[beanzwrites]

⑉ Party For One ⑉

│Vox x Idol! Reader│

𝚂̷𝚢̷𝚗̷𝚘̷𝚋̷𝚜̷𝚒̷𝚜̷: (Y/n) was once an overlord, dominating the music industry with their talent and the souls they captured along the way. Then Vox came into their life and stole their heart with his big dreams. Everything was great for the lovers at first, then Vox wanted to team up with other overlords for more power. Vox became obsessed over his work, and with also looking out for the other Vee's, (Y/n) begins to realize that maybe they were never part of Vox's plans. They decide that it is time to start again and leave Vox behind.

━━━━━━━━━━━﹒⪩⪨﹒━━━━━━━━━━━

〣Featured tracks〣

You Need Me Now? │Single Soon │ Party For One

═══════════════════════════

It's been centuries since (Y/n) felt what it was like to be in power. They remember fondly of the countless nights where flashing lights hung above them, sweat clinging to their skin as they danced with such grace, and the warm buzz that ignited as the adoring screams of Hell carried in their ears. Though they would never admit it, they miss the opportunities of meeting sinners envious of their fame, only to take such demons under their wing, and mold them into their own image. What a perfect world they had created.

There was a time back then, where they did wish to slow down. The life as an idol is one of constant movement. You always had to be on top of things, avidly working with other big names to get your own out there. Along with the rising pop stars that (Y/n) had contracts with, things got pretty cumbersome. They loved the work they did, and it wasn't that much different from the earthly realm, but they couldn't even still themself in death.

No one, however, caught (Y/n)'s interest much like Vox did. He rose quickly to fame himself, the technology equipped under his belt top-notch compared to what was used in Hell before. He consistently improved what needed to be worked on, and (Y/n) quickly realized that making a deal with him would benefit their institution tremendously. They got the privilege of meeting him in an overlord meeting; Though Carmilla was ambivalent to accept him as an overlord at first, with some persuasion from younger lords such as (Y/n), she reluctantly invited him.

It wasn't love at first sight like the rumors claimed it was, but there was an undeniable click between the TV man and the famous idol. They enjoyed each other's company more so than any other overlord would do for another; it was like they were tied at the hip at times. The understanding between them was silent yet profound, and they aided each other whenever needed. Both of them were powerful on their own, yet unstoppable together.

(Y/n) wasn't fully aware that they were in love until the moment Vox showed them a tour of his first establishment, a proud smirk and rascally delight flickering in bright colors across his monitor. It was that same moment too, that Vox turned to them and proposed that they stick by his side for the rest of their damnation. Vox was never clueless then on how they felt, and he offered protection and power as long as they felt comfortable being linked with his name. (Y/n) wanted so badly to settle down from their busy lifestyle, and with a ring on their finger uniting them to someone they held dearly, they decided to remain in Vox's shadow for decades to come.

Vox was never a poor lover to (Y/n), and the first few years will always be held with care in their heart. The honeymoon phase never lasts as long as people would like it too, however. With gaining power comes the burden of responsibility, and as Vox grew as an overlord, so did his need for more satisfaction. Vox had asked his lover their thoughts on alliances, and wanting to see their husband expand his influences, (Y/n) encouraged him to seek it out.

Soon enough, the Vee's were formed, and the company Vox built with (Y/n) became that of a fortress. The nooks and crannies that (Y/n) grew accustomed to expanded into long hallways, and the small foundation that held Vox's love for them began to brittle and decay. The other Vee's were nothing but white-collared towards (Y/n), as they too in way, helped the two find their pedestal among sinners. There was no connection like that with Vox though, and (Y/n) quickly began to feel lonesome in a promised life of luxury.

Vox became neglectful; choosing his work over them most days. (Y/n) knows that it didn't mean he didn't care, but the gifts presented in opulent wrapping and silk bows began to mean less than nothing to them as nights without their lover continued. They saw more of his business partners than him, and though they aided the three whenever they could, the overlords opted to keep their projects to themselves.

(Y/n) began to feel restless from the interminable stillness that became of their life, and the rejection they felt in their own home made them feel small. They tried to bring up these issues with Vox whenever he decided to be present, but there was always a carelessness in his actions. His mind never wandered far from work, even if his other half was with him. (Y/n) held out longer than they should have with the shell of a man they used to know, the pleasant reminiscence that they held tightly of him beginning to dull out like that of a dying light.

They began to remember the distant pleasure of their idol existence, which felt like a forgotten reality from the many years of isolation, when watching from Vox's balcony as the Vee's were rehearsing for a big convention coming up. The extravagant costumes, the bright fluorescents, even the skimpy dancing, it all hit (Y/n) in the most amazing way possible. Soon enough, they began to dream for a new life again. This time, however, Vox wasn't going to guide them so easily.

(Y/n) left without a word to their lover, only choosing to gift Vox one last thing garnished in a simple blue velvet box; the ring he gave to them. Word got out quickly as (Y/n) began to sign off new sinners for fame, the habits from all those years ago coming back as if they never stopped pursuing it. Though (Y/n) hadn't been in the spotlight for some time, and the music industry went through many changes since their fall, the encouragement of their re-found wanting pushed them to do the impossible. They found connection with overlords they had established relationships with from long ago, and finding the need to become empowered again, (Y/n) was expeditious in striking deals that would benefit this. Even though the Vee's had a big grasp on the media industry, it didn't stop (Y/n) from finding opportunities to outshine them.

Velvette and Valentino immediately took notice of the traction their compeer's former partner gained, and though they knew they should've confided in Vox on what his run-away lover was up to, they couldn't pass up their chances of ascendancy either. (Y/n) remained vigilant in keeping their distance from the three, however, they granted the two their attention for mere amusement, and made simple deals with them for the sake of efficiency in the industry. Velvette became one of their many designers while Valentino's stars were given permission to be taught under the idol.

Though (Y/n) kept up with Vee's, it was nothing but professionalism. They never took up too much time with them, only choosing to do so for work, and Vox never came into conversation. (Y/n) was sure that he was keeping an eye on them, his control of technology impossible to keep under the radar. It's not like they really tried to hide themself from him either. Every now and again, they think of him, but they try not to dwell on it too much. After all, if he really wanted them back or felt embarrassed by the whole situation, he would've shown it by now. He very well had the power to destroy them if he wanted to, cursing their name and all that they stood for. The pride in (Y/n) told them that it was their dedication and luck that brought them back to where they were before Vox, but a smaller part of them also wondered why it seemed too easy. Was it truly the influence they had in Hell or was something else behind the scenes at play? Perhaps they will never know.

═══════════════════════════

[velvateen]

it’s always you - zoro x reader fluff!

warnings: mention of blood a little teensie weensie bit, all fluff!

you and zoro are in denial. structured around a chet baker song! listen to it for best experience!!

word count: 1,200 ish, not proofread i’m lazy

words in italics are lyrics!

song: “it’s always you” sung by chet baker (link to the song on spotify)

Whenever it’s early twilight, I watch til the star breaks through

Funny its not a star I see,

its always you

The light from the deck casted a gentle purple glow onto Zoro’s face as he yawned, his night watch finally almost over. He leaned over the deck, arms crossed as he admired the view unfolding in front of him. The chilly night breeze was giving way to the pleasant humidity of the sea spray warmed by the rising sun. This was the best part of night shifts for Zoro. Not only was it the prettiest part of the shift, it meant he could go to sleep soon.

He shifted where he stood, resting his cheek against his hand, squinting to try and catch the first peaks of sunlight over the horizon.

A glimmer of light snapped his eyes towards the waves. The first light of the day. He let out an amused laugh as he thought out loud.

“Man, they’d love this.”

What?

Since when did he start thinking things like that?

He shook his head and resumed his watch with more intensity than required, he didn’t even think about how he wished the sunlight on his arms was your touch instead.

He didn’t think about that at all.

Whenever I roam through roses, and lately I often do

Funny its not a rose I touch,

it’s always you

Tending to the garden was something you had gradually found comfort in. I mean, there really wasn’t much else to do on the long stretches of days out at sea, so why not try and soak in all the nature you could?

The flowerbed on the ship was always your favorite, there was always something to tend to. Weeds would peak through the dirt no matter your efforts, and you found serenity in the tedious task of picking them one by one, shaded by the tangerine trees.

In your dull daze of tedious weed pulling, your hand strayed a bit too close to the rose bush, the back of your hands taking the damage. You hissed and pulled it away, frowning at the trickle of blood running down from your knuckle.

Little cuts like this always hurt like hell, and you wondered how Zoro takes blows and cuts way bigger than this all the time without even being phased.

Not that you thought of him all that much, you just wondered if he’d even react to a cut like this, so trivial.

You stared at your hand, thinking of how Zoro’s was so big in comparison. This cut would probably look like nothing on him.

After a moment, you felt that your face was burning, cheeks hot. You shook the smile from your lips and returned to work, making sure you had your gardening gloves on from here on out.

If a breeze caresses me, it’s really you strolling by

If I hear a melody,

it’s merely the way you sigh

It was your turn for night watch. Wrapped in a blanket as defense for the chilly ocean weather, you fought sleep valiantly with all the strength you had in you. But you’ve been fighting for so long, you thought.

Your head bobs as you’re lulled by the warmth of your blanket and the rock of the ship. A breeze passes, movement alerting you awake. The bench your sitting on shifts as he sits across from you, and passes you a mug.

“What’s this?” You ask, taking the cup into both of your hands, reveling in the cozy sensation.

“Figured you were cold. And bored, probably,” Zoro responds, avoiding eye contact and taking a sip from his own mug. You smile.

“Didn’t know you even knew how to make tea, I’m kinda impressed,” you laughed, blowing on it and feeling the steam lift your eyelashes.

“I learn some stuff to keep that idiot cook humble.”

You grin, taking a sip from the cup. You hum in contentment. The grip on Zoro’s mug tightens, he prays you don’t notice.

Wherever you are,

you’re near me

You dare me to be untrue

The crew always ended up at some kind of bar while docked for any significant amount of time. The privacy that crowds offered was always so appealing, and you liked getting to meet people from different islands.

Your appreciation for bars was always matched, although for a different reason, by Zoro. He would go for the drinks, you’d go for the people. It was a good dynamic, you always had someone to escape with if any marines showed up. Plus, Zoro hated talking to people, so you served as his defense.

The bar at this island wasn’t remarkably different from the countless others you had visited. Dark sticky wood countertops, peeling leather seats, shady regulars, the works. It was fun, especially when you had the pleasant dulling buzz of alcohol in your system. As you chatted to different people in the bar, Zoro followed you. He swears up and down that it’s just to keep an eye on things, to make sure no one pulls a weird move on you or anything. He swears that’s the case.

It can’t be the way that you’re a bit more touchy when you’re drunk, or that he gets to stablilize you when you stumble or sway. That cannot be the reason.

Walks home from the bar are always pleasant, the moonlight guiding your way back to the ship. You have to drag Zoro towards the right direction, even as he holds your elbow and hand in an effort to keep you upright. As the walk progresses, you get sleepier, more dependant on his strength to keep you moving. You lean against his shoulder more, eyes drooping steadily closed.

His heart used to beat normally. Ever since you came around, he’d get a strange dropping sensation and his heart would race. He’s starting to get used to it, to miss it.

It means you’re near.

Funny, each time I fall in love,

It’s always you.

His hand was outstretched.

The motion caught you off guard as you snapped your head away from where you gazed leaning over the deck.

In his hand was a bouquet. A measly one, at that, only a handful of flowers. You smiled, taking them from him in bewilderment. He was avoiding your gaze, opting to stare stoically towards the setting sun. You noted the slight scowl on his brow, the breeze threading through his green hair.

“Are these roses from our garden?” You observed.

“Yeah. I thought you might wanna keep some near you to put in a vase or something, you know, since you’ve worked so hard to make them grow.”

You looked down at them and tucked them into the crook of your elbow.

He leaned next to you against the rail, not bothering to move away when your arm brushed his. Looking down, you grabbed one of his hands that was folded towards you.

“What are all these cuts!?” you asked, picking up and twisting his hand that was covered in small, thorn sized scratches.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he remarked, tracing a finger over the line where your cut was healing.

Your hands lingered, neither of you daring to pull away. The sun casted warm light on your faces, bringing a blush to the surface. It was definitely just the sun.

It might be something else.

a/n: HELLO IM BACK (for a limited time, like outback’s steakmas). school and life were kicking my ass but i’m here now for at least a bit. maybe i’ll post more, maybe i’ll continue being an enigma, who knows! i don’t. should i write a sanji or ace fic next? and should it be fluff or smut lmk bc i have no ideas everrrrr. or or should i write levi from aot since that’s popular rn and he’s sexy?

i have kofi help me buy a zoro figure pwease. link in masterlist.

okay bye everypony *.•

[katblu42]

Hand Warmers

For @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt #279 Warm Hands.

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go Characters: Gordon and Virgil Word Count: approx 953 Domestic fluff (no warnings apply as far as I can tell).

Gordon was well known within his family for suffering from the affliction of cold hands.  Virgil in particular had fallen victim to icy fingers placed against warm skin on numerous occasions.  But, in his defence, Gordon found this particular big brother was the most effective heat source for warming frosty digits. 

Of course, it also helped that Virgil was often the only brother in range when this was needed, and despite the initial grumbling, he was also usually quite amenable to lending body heat to a little brother in need.

Virgil himself seemed to always have warm hands – at least in Gordon’s experience.  It didn’t seem to matter where he was, or what he was doing, if Gordon placed a distractingly cold hand anywhere on Virgil’s exposed skin there was glorious warmth to be shared. Then those familiar, big, warm hands would soon be deployed to enfold his own and work some much needed heat into them.

It kind of made sense.  Virgil’s hands always seemed to be moving – dancing across the piano keys, applying brushstrokes to canvas, or sketching on almost any surface, artfully deploying exactly the right tool for anything that needed fixing, or gently but deftly applying first aid. 

But for Gordon the most memorable thing those well-muscled and well-used hands could do was to give expert massages to sooth overworked swimmer’s muscles, or gently relax a cramp.  He couldn’t remember how or when it started, but it had been quite a regular thing between them.  Somehow Virgil always seemed to know exactly when he needed the sweet relief of warmth and pressure working all the tension out of his back, shoulders and neck, and would be there to provide it in exactly the right measure.

He'd often wished he could return the favour, and with today’s rescue being as rough as it was, Gordon could see that now was the perfect time to do so.  But he couldn’t even approach those heavy-lifting muscles without doing some important preparation first.

Luckily, preparation was something Gordon was very good at.  He usually employed this talent when planning pranks, but the surprise he was planning this time should produce a much more favourable response.  And preparation for this one had begun during post-flight checks when Thunderbird Two had returned to her hangar.

Under the guise of restocking the medical supplies Gordon had grabbed a couple of the tiny packets containing air-activated heat packs.  Later, once checks were completed, uniforms shed and he’d showered and changed into his regular attire, the packets were opened and shaken and then clutched in each hand.

After half an hour with the little heat packets kept within reach – in his pockets when not in direct contact with his hands – he deemed himself ready to put the next phase of the plan into action.

Virgil was sitting at their dad’s desk, most likely making a start on post-rescue paperwork when Gordon decided to make his move.  Making his stealthy approach from behind, avoiding the squeaky floorboard, he gave the little heat packs in each pocket one last firm squeeze each.

When he placed his warm hands on his big brother’s shoulders he felt the muscles tense at the unexpected contact.

“Gor- . . . Gordon?” Virgil’s voice started with the low warning tone that usually accompanied an unapproved activity, but quickly rose in pitch and inflection.

“The one and only!”

As Virgil tried to turn his head to face him, Gordon gently redirected the movement with one hand and started kneading tense muscles with the other.

“What are you doing?” Virgil directed his gaze forward again, allowing Gordon to knead with both hands.  “And how are your hands so warm?  They’re never this warm!  What did you do?”

Gordon chuckled.  “Don’t you worry about that.  Just relax and let me do this for you.”

Right on cue he found and pressed against a particularly tough little knot that had Virgil groaning and relaxing into the massage as the knot released.  There was an easy silence between them for a while, broken only by the soft grunts that let Gordon know he was finding all the right spots.

“Where’d you learn to do this?”  Virgil asked somewhat sleepily.

“Kind of from you.  I’ve been on the receiving end enough times.”  He paused a moment, concentrating his attention on another nasty knot.  “But I’ve always kind of wondered how you learned to be so good at giving massages.”

“I guess it started when you decided to get serious about swimming competitively.  I wanted to be able to support you, and I had an interest in medical treatments, so I looked into the kinds of medical complaints swimmers often experienced and how to treat them.  I mostly learned from video tutorials and trial and error on unsuspecting family members.”

Gordon laughed again.  “Well, I’m very glad you did.  Of all the massages I’ve had, yours are always the best.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gordon.  There’s no way my efforts can compare with a professional.”

Gordon paused his thumb circles long enough to offer a playful tap to the side of Virgil’s head.

“I’m not kidding, Virge.  You’re massage skills are awesome, and I need you to know I appreciate every single one you’ve given me over the years.  And if the tension that was in these heavy lifting muscles is anything to go by, I think I need more chances to pay you back.”

It was Virgil’s turn to give a chuckle.

“If you think I’m bad you should try it on Scott.  When he’s tense his neck and shoulder muscles feel like steel girders.”

They were both laughing now. “No, I think I’ll leave Scott’s tense muscles to your magic fingers!”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

The Original Dick (Sinner!Adam x Reder)

CW: Rough blowjob, semi public blowjob, m receiving oral, stalking, reader is a bit craycray Rated: Adult Summary: After repeated encounters with Adam at work, through the hole, you have no choice but to follow him in hopes of finding an organic way to meet again. When you're less of a skilled stalker than you thought, you're faced with the repercussions of your actions.

You knelt on the ground, looking up at Adam. He looked down at you, large black bat wings flexing, a mockery of the angel wings he had once had. It didn’t make you want him any less, though. That’s how you got in this position. 

You had been following him for weeks, wanting him and yet unsure how to approach the first man. 

He had walked into an alleyway and you followed, only to have him round on you. You were far from fast enough to prevent him from getting a fistful of your hair, using it to whip you into the concrete wall of the building. 

The air was knocked from your lungs as you bounced off it, falling to your knees in front of the man you wanted so bad. 

“Why the fuck are you following me?” Adam yelled, pulling his leg back to deliver what would surely be a rib cracking kick only to hesitate as you looked up at him. “It’s you?” 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You crawled closer to him, not caring that the alley was dirty and wet. 

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Adam pointed to himself with a long, thick finger. 

“You’re Adam,” you answered eagerly, small bat wings twitching behind you. You and him both had bat features. It was a sign, you were sure of it. The stars or the gods or whatever it was that made these decisions fated the two of you to be together. You were sure of it. “You’re the first man.” 

“Exactly.” Adam’s chest puffed out slightly even as the rest of him remained tense, “So why the fuck are you falling me around?” 

“Don’t you- Don’t you remember me?” Carefully, you got one foot on the ground only to have Adam reach out, shoving you back with a large palm to your forehead before you managed to get standing. 

“Bubblegum cunt,” Adam shrugged, as if you meant nothing to him. “From the field. It’s been, fuck, like, a year since then.” 

“But you remember me?” You crawled toward him again, not phased at all by the name he had given you. 

“Yes, I fucking remember you.” Adam ran his hand through his hair, disgusted at the simple notion of being seen as he was, a worthless sinner, by someone who had known him in his glory. “What the fuck do you want?” 

“I-” you hesitated, not sure how to word what you wanted. “I wanted to see you again.” 

“Why?” Adam scoffed. “To laugh at me? To point out how far I’ve fallen?” His voice rose, anger at his situation fueling it. “We’ll I’ve got news for you. I may not still be a winner, but this sinner is still the Original dick.” 

“I know,” you whispered, looking up at him. What would he say if you told him you had wrapped your lips around his dick three times this month? Would he be angry?

“Is that why you’re following me?” Adam worked his belt open, hands moving in a threatening promise. “Want to ride the original dick again?” 

“Yes,” you moved to stand, only to have him knock you on your ass again. 

Wide eyes looked up at him, towering over you as he pulled his cock out. You licked your lips as you watched it grow harder, expanding with every beat of his dead heart. Saliva pooled in your mouth as you eagerly awaited having it inside you. 

“Right here?” You tugged the hem of your skirt higher, letting the fabric graze your upper thighs. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Adam asked as he stroked his cock. “I didn’t say I’d fuck you.”

“What?” Big pink eyes blinked up at him. 

“If you want the Original Dick, you better show me how fucking bad you want it. Make me believe you deserve it.” 

“I-” you shuffled forward on your knees, dirty gravel and puddles of water covered your knees, cutting into the soft pink skin. “Okay.” 

Red tongue slipped from between your dark plum lips, running over them as your eyes zeroed in on the dark red head of his cock. Eagerly, you licked the tip, taking in the familiar taste of him. 

Salty pre-cum coated your tongue as you ran it over his slit. You pulled him deeper into your mouth with every bob of your head. Eagerly, you sucked him into the back of your throat. You realized after a few moments that you finally had your wish. You could reach out and touch him. 

Reaching up, you rested your palms on his thighs. Strong, thick muscles flexed and bunched slightly as his hips twitched. You swallowed around him before backing off his cock with a pop. Eyes locked together as he watched you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, tilting him up.

Being able to properly feel him was intoxicating. You ran your tongue over the thick vein that wound its way over the length of his shaft. The feel of it pulsing under your tongue drew a moan from your throat.

Saliva pooled in your mouth as you struggled to take him deeper and deeper. Adam’s hand wrapped around your horn, pulling your face closer while you struggled to gasp for air. 

It spilled from your lips, running down your chin as you looked up at him. It was hell. You were already dead, so what if you couldn’t breathe? Each breath was hard won, a gargled gasp of air followed by a deep moan as you swallowed around his cock. 

Fingers wrapped around his shaft, working over what you couldn’t take into your mouth. Every bob of your head took him to the back of your throat, pushing deeper and deeper. 

Your hand traveled down your body, pulling your skirt up. Just as you pushed your panties aside, Adam thrust harshly into your throat. The powerful thrust surprised you, leaving you no choice but to take all of his length, even as you nearly were knocked off balance. 

“Did I fucking say you could touch yourself?” 

“Ugh” you struggled to answer around the cock that thrust into your throat again and again. He did not let up until your hand pulled away, letting your skirt fall and returned to his though. 

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought.” Adam’s hips stilled, letting you again take control of the pace. You worked yourself over his length, moaning at the taste of his precum on your tongue as it leaked from him in a steady stream. 

“Please,” you begged, as he pulled back enough for his cock to fall from your aching mouth. You stroked him, running your hand up and down his slippery shaft, not sparing a moment to wipe the saliva from your face. “Please, fuck me.” 

“Why should I?” Adam asked, flush high on his cheeks but otherwise looking painfully unbothered. 

“I want your cock,” you pleaded. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since the extermination. I dream of it. I think about it when I’m fucking others. I pretend it’s your cock.” 

“No,” Adam said simply, shoving your head back down on his cock as he thrust harshly into your mouth. Tears ran down your face as he hit the back of your throat again and again. The pace grew wild, leaving you little choice but to hold on to his thighs and try to fight off the black encroaching on your vision. 

He moaned deeply as he chased his release, seed exploding from him in hot ropes that splashed the mach of your throat. There was no choice but to swallow what he gave you. It was a task you failed at, the bulbus head of his cock pulling his essence from the back of your throat toward your lips as he continued his thrusts. 

It dribbled down your chin, mixing with saliva. White drops gathered on the sweater you wore. 

He fucked into your mouth again and again, not slowing into the throbbing pulses of his release slowed. Even then, he was still shooting short spurts of seed through the air as he pulled you off of him, throwing you back onto the wet ground as if you were nothing more than trash. 

He watched you as you gasped for air. At one time, he had thanked you for letting him fuck through the heat of the stupid hell flowers but he was a changed man now. He wouldn’t thank his stalker a second time for letting him use her.

“Stop following me,” Adam ordered, shoving his softening cock back into his pants. He fastened the buckle of his belt as he stepped onto the sidewalk again, leaving you alone with the taste of him still on your lips. 

“Never,” you whispered. “We’re meant to be.” 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[vinvantae]

Unmasked

Part 2/16

<< previous part

Word count - 2.8k

The nerves were washing over you like a tidal wave as you walked up the steps to the boardroom. You hadn’t felt this anxious since your debut and with no sleep under your belt, you were running purely on caffeine. All night had been filled with staring at the ceiling, running through all the plans the team had discussed with you and which one plan B was or if it was something else entirely. You were aware they had had meetings without you present, and it was these meetings that concerned you, there was no way to know what they had concocted behind closed doors without you to interject.

You were pleasantly surprised to see you weren’t the first one there, Charles was sitting on his phone - Ferrari cap discarded onto the table. The blinds had all been drawn and the overhead lights made it feel like a doctor’s office waiting room. He looked tired, you knew he went out for a few drinks with the other drivers last night so it didn’t phase you.

“Morning.” You said, the driver’s head lifting, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.”

The smile shifted to an apologetic one. “Mattia just texted me ‘urgent meeting with thirty at 8:30’, so if you’re going to ask… I have no idea either.”

As you circled the table to sit beside him, he rose from his chair and pulled you into a hug. “Are you feeling any better today?”

You sunk into his arms, enjoying what would probably be one of your last moments of peace before the meeting. In the 3 seasons you’d been together now, the bond you shared with Charles was something you truly cherished. Despite your identity being a secret, he always tried to make sure to spend time with you whenever he could - bringing coffees to your driver room or hiding with you for a little while. He made you feel safe, so you were glad he was here.

“Not fantastic but I kind of apologised to Lewis but he just thought I was some random staff so didn’t quite have the impact I’d been hoping for.” You chuckled sadly, earning a gentle squeeze from your friend. “I just… the winter break is very much needed.”

“Perfect. You’re both already here.”

You watched as Mattia stepped into the room, followed closely by the rest of Team Thirty. This group had remained practically unchanged since you’d joined, only gaining Charles and a few others after you’d won your first championship- becoming the youngest WDC made keeping your identity a secret a whole extra task for them. Everyone held tablets and laptops as they sat around the table, you and Charles remaining alone on your side of the table.

“Can we just get right into it?” You said, picking at the skin around your fingers. “Which one is it? Are you gonna sub me out for a couple races to throw them off?”

They all exchanged glances before Mattia cleared his throat. “Well, plan B is actually something new we came up with… when Charles joined the team.”

Both of you frowned simultaneously, sparing a moment to glance at each other before Charles decided to speak up. “When… I joined?”

“Yes.” Mattia sat forward a little in his seat. “It wasn’t much of a possibility with Sebastian due to the age gap but you two… this could definitely work.”

“What could work? What are you talking about?”

Instead of saying anything else, Mattia pulled two stacks of paper out of his bag and slid them in front of you both. “We would like the two of you to pretend to be in a relationship because there’s no way that Charles’ girlfriend would be our mystery driver.”

You stared wide-eyes at the contract in front of you, detailing what the upcoming season would entail for you both. You would remain as a staff member for Ferrari but instead of being restricted where you could travel and with who - they had planned a full itinerary for the winter break. When and where you’d be with Charles, every day of every month. They had even crafted up mock instagram posts and stories for the two of you to post.

“The winter break provides us with the perfect opportunity to orchestrate a soft launch.” The social media manager weighed in. “You’ll both be posting from the same locations, glimpses of each other and then at the start of the reason you can announce the relationship by coming into the paddock together.”

“I’m… I’m not sure how I feel about this.” You admitted. “Charles shouldn’t be forced to date me - he’s a young, handsome guy. He shouldn’t be tied down by this fake commitment if-”

He cleared his throat, bringing your attention from Mattia and the team to him. “If it’ll help you, y/n. I’d do it… hey, could be fun right?”

Usually his smile would put you at ease but you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Charles’ knew he had ulterior motives but getting to spend time with you, in public? That wasn’t something he was just going to pass up on. He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and you returned his smile cautiously.

“Okay, but if Charles wants out at any point-”

“We’ll end the contract, but it will be under an NDA so you cannot say it was fake. We can just script it as a mutual, friendly breakup.” The social media manager spoke up again, clearly very proud of himself for crafting this plan. “And you and Charles are friends, right? So hopefully physical affection like hand holding in public or a kiss on the cheek will be easy to pass off as something more than platonic.”

It was then when the team left you and Charles to read the contract and details of the relationship. Whilst you weren't a Monaco native, you had come from money - it was one of the reasons, alongside your talent, you were able to land your seat whilst not only being a woman but being so young. You had competitively raced in GP3 and F2 respectively before ‘dropping off the face of the paddock’ to become a member of the Ferrari staff - it was an excuse far too many people bought too easily.

So, it wasn’t much of a surprise you’d be spending a large chunk of the break in Monaco, both of you had a place there so they wouldn’t have to splash on the accommodation but there was also a trip to Bali pencilled in towards the end before you’d have to return to Maranello for pre-season training.

“They’re really going all out with this.” The Monegasque driver spoke first. “...Are you sure you're okay doing this? Because, I agreed to it because I want to help you out but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with it either y/n.”

“I mean, it’s definitely better than some of the other plans they come up with. And hey, it means I get to spend more time with you and I might actually get to know some of the people I’m racing against, even if it is as your girlfriend.” You smiled softly. “I can’t thank you enough for having my back through all of this. I was really scared when Seb told me he was leaving but I’m glad it was you who came next.”

His cheeks flushed a little and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I couldn’t ever imagine how difficult it was to be Thirty but when I found out you were my age and a girl? I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t support you.”

You lent into his side and he draped his arm across his shoulder. When you’d first met, he hadn’t been as protective - because as Thirty, you were fearless, but with the constant fear of exposure you were a lot shyer beneath the helmet so overtime Charles found himself wanting to watch over you.

“If we’re going to spend time with the others, I should probably give you some warnings.” He chuckled a little, as you sat back up to read yours and Charles’ ‘backstory’.

“Oh yeah?” You raised a curious brow. “They that bad?”

“No it’s not that. Pierre is a massive gossip, lives for it. So anything that’s a little juicy he’s all over it… so we’ve got to be extra careful around him.” He explained. “Like, have you ever seen those gossip accounts? He’s all over them. He also loves Thirty speculation.”

You lent back in your chair and tilted your head. “Has he ever been close?”

“Not even slightly.” He smirked. “He’s a big fan of the theory that you’re Barrichello. Or like, just a bunch of different drivers.”

“That would be impossible to keep secret, one of them would spill for sure.” You reached across the table to grab a pen. “I do enjoy reading twitter theories, I won’t lie. But, now that there’s a larger female audience, there’s been a lot more Thirty is a Woman theories being thrown around.”

Charles flicked through his papers to find the dotted lines that had been marked for him. “Your name ever cropped up?”

“Once or twice. But I was never an F2 champion or anything so it gets brushed off pretty quickly.” You shrugged. “Someone did a full twitter thread on it being me and I cannot wait for the day that I get to show them that they were right.”

“That’s crazy.”

Before the two of you could share any more words, the rest of the team rejoined - the scraping of chairs against the floor and all eyes landing back on the pair of you really made it sink in what you were about to agree to.

“Do we have any questions?” Mattia asked, passing Charles a pen as the team lawyers came and stood either side of you both to make sure you signed where you needed to.

“…Just one, for how long?”

The team principal forced a smile. “As long as needed. I know you think you’re ready to be unmasked, y/n, but that’s not what is best for the team right now. We’re focusing on getting our groove back and we don’t need the uproar of having a female driver detract from that. Understood?”

Charles frowned, watching the way your shoulders slumped a little. That didn’t seem fair.

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, good. Now, please sign.”

Both of you scribbled your signatures on the contracts, and after crossing the t’s and dotting the i’s, Mattia stood up and shook each of your hands. “Congrats. You make a very sweet couple.”

Charles dared to risk a glance at you and saw your cheeks had flushed a pretty pink, a colour he’d paint murals with if he could. It was beautiful. You threw him a shy smile as you grabbed your jacket and bag from the chair beside you. As everyone filtered out of the room, you noticed the Monegasque hanging back.

“Everything okay, Charl?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I am, it’s just properly sinking in now…”

“It’s not too late to back out.” You said, giving his bicep a gentle squeeze. “I meant what I said.”

“No it’s not that. I just feel a little guilty about my part in keeping you hidden away, y/n. I think they should be proud to not only have a woman on the team but the world’s youngest champion.” He sighed softly, his blue eyes intense as he studied you. “I hope that they realise that soon.”

“Thank you. Just so you know, I’m going to tell Sebastian… he’s signed an NDA previously so I trust him.”

Charles smiled. “I definitely think you should. You deserve at least that.”

You opened your arms and he immediately wrapped his around you. “See you later?”

“My car is at the lot by the heliport. Let me drive you home when we get back to Monaco?” He hummed, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Seen as you are my girlfriend now and all.”

Your heart skipped a beat, girlfriend. “Yeah, that would be nice, thank you.”

It was always protocol for you to hang around the weekend HQ a little longer than anyone else just in case someone had leaked the timings of a Team Thirty meeting and they didn’t want you being seen with the rest of them. Instead, you said goodbye to Charles and slipped into a small corner office to ring Sebastian. Charles’ voice continued to ring in your ear.

Girlfriend.

You were Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend. You knew it was fake but it still seemed crazy to you - you had known of him for years, and you had seen the girls he had dated before. You had to admit that you were nervous, you were built like an F1 driver - not a stereotypical influencer.

After dialling Seb’s number, you lent back against the wall of the office - going back to nibble on the skin around your fingers that you had started to pick at while in the meeting.

“Hey kid, how did it go?” His voice instantly put you at ease. Anything that was wrong, Seb could always give you the right advice. You were never sure when he got so wise but you were glad he did.

“So, uhm, plan B was something else entirely.”

“Oh?”

You let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah…”

“Y/n, what’s going on? You’re making me worried.” You could practically see the concerned Dad look on his face when you told him about the things that they did with Thirty.

“Charles and I are fake dating.”

The pause felt like a lifetime, it was almost as if you could hear Sebastian processing the words you had just said. It wasn’t like any of the plans they had come up with while he was still with the team and it was definitely in the top 3 of the most outlandish ideas that he had heard - and one of those ideas was to get you to start wearing stilts.

“I’m… wow, and Charles is okay with this?” He finally spoke.

“Yeah, he’s on board and as soon as he decides he’s had enough - it’s over.”

He paused again. “And are you on board? Because I know you, y/n, I know how long you’ve wanted to stop with the whole faceless thing…”

He was right, but you weren’t ready to fully admit it. “It’s not the right time yet. I want to focus on getting my third title and I can’t do that if they’re all cracking down on me.”

“Okay. Well, promise you’ll keep me in the loop? This isn’t just any old media routine, I don’t want you to get hurt if Charles or anyone else does something stupid… you’re about to be a WAG, y/n… that isn’t easy.”

“Oh because you’re an expert?” You teased.

“I’m not joking, y/n. People online can be really nasty, especially to WAGs.” He scolded lightly. “Just protect yourself okay?”

You sighed softly. “I’ll do my best. I’m going to Monaco tomorrow, let me know if you’ve got any time free for us to catch up properly? I’m sure I can convince them to let me add it to the itinerary they’ve made for us.”

“Of course.”

You both said your goodbyes and it was finally time for you to leave the motorhome and get back to the hotel to pack. Aside from Charles and yourself, you weren’t really expecting to see many drivers here the morning after the final race of the season - most opting to head straight home. The paddock was mostly full of staff packing up, ready to head back to their HQs but you couldn’t help but notice that Pierre was lurking around, a little too close to the headquarters with Charles, clearly hoping to get a glimpse of Thirty when they came out of the meeting. You could see him pointing to almost every man who came out of the building but when his eyes landed on you, his gaze simply flickered over you before asking about someone else.

Charles gave you a knowing look, Pierre proving just how clueless he really was. You fought back a smile and made your way back to the car park - walking passed them both without a word. The Monegasque didn’t miss the way Pierre looked at you once again, not as a potential Thirty but the same way he looked at any pretty girl in the paddock. Clueless.

“You guys have some attractive staff, you should introduce me.” He hummed.

The younger driver rolled his eyes. “I don’t think she’d be interested.”

“And you know that, how?” Pierre scoffed.

Charles simply shrugged. “Just have a feeling.”

He watched as you scanned your pass to leave the paddock, glancing back over your shoulder one final time and risking a smile at him. The recognisable flutters in his stomach reminded him of just how screwed he was - he needed to be professional, this was a contracted relationship.

But it was just a matter of time before his true feelings came to the surface, Charles just hoped that when that happened, maybe… just maybe… you’d feel the same too.

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

Next part >>>

Oooh drama. Hope you all enjoyed ❤️

Thank u to @carsgonyoom and @danielfuckingricciardo for letting me bounce ideas off of you and proof-reading! Love you both x

[whencyclopedia]

Harlech Castle

Harlech Castle, located in North Wales, was first built by Edward I of England (r. 1272-1307 CE) from 1283 CE. Largely completed by 1290 CE, the castle received some further additions up to 1330 CE. A classic example of a concentric medieval castle, Harlech skilfully used local topography, the sea, and imposing towers to represent a formidable challenge to any attackers, as proven in the lengthy sieges of the Welsh rebellions and the Wars of the Roses during the turbulent 15th century CE. Harlech Castle is listed by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site.

Edward I's Castle Building

From 1272 CE Edward I, the new king of England, conquered most of Wales and joined it with the county system present in England. Following the death of Llywelyn, the Prince of Wales, in 1282 CE, the only part of Wales which remained free was the wild mountainous north and here the king built several major castles which included Caernarfon Castle, Conwy Castle, and Harlech Castle. Work began on Harlech Castle in June 1283 CE, the vast team of labourers, masons, and craftsmen being supervised by Master James of Saint Georges (c. 1235-1308 CE), the experienced architect and engineer who had previously built castles in Europe and who would be involved in many of Edward's other Welsh castles.

As with any major castle, the choice of location would be the key to its chances of withstanding siege or attacks. Harlech was built on one of the most secure spots any castle was erected upon, sited on a rocky crag which rose straight out of the sea (today the sea has receded). There was also vital access to a small port or quay which meant that in times of trouble the castle could easily be supplied by boats (although one does not envy the porters who had to climb the 100+ steps with their heavy loads). The king visited the site in person to check progress over three days in August 1283 CE, and by the end of the first major building phase, he must have been happy with the results as he made Master James constable of the castle in 1290 CE, a position he would hold until 1293 CE.

Harlech would, by 1303 CE, eventually cost 8,184 pounds to construct (around $11 million today) but that was still a third cheaper than the cost of Caernarfon or Conwy. This is because the castle was both smaller and less ornate in its stonework and design. Even more significantly, the castle used local stone and so avoided the heavy costs of transportation of cumbersome materials. Another 400 pounds were spent on the castle between 1303 and 1330 CE.

Continue reading...

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Lawrence/Mark x fem!reader - Jealousy

Warning : jealousy, blood, saw horror, kiss, use of Y/n, fluff, comfort

Mark Hoffman x fem!reader, Lawrence Gordon x fem!reader

Summary : Two men, two successors to Jigsaw and yet, besides the latest game, there is something in both of them that they want...you.

masterlist

Costas mandylor - masterlist

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

Since John had chosen his successors, the last thing he hoped for from them was an intimate relationship. Lawrence was his biggest project and at the same time his biggest secret. Amanda for a short time like a daughter but for her he was the father.

Mark had gotten by the serial killer again a sense and Y/n the newest member of the almost cult was Johns second hand which concerned the creation of traps. Behind the young reporter's friendly demeanor, however, was a goddess who, like John, ruled over the living and the dead.

A woman who since she had emerged, especially the doctor and the policeman had not been able to get out of his head. Lawrence for the first time again felt his heart beating for someone after his wife and Adam.

How the blond came more and more often to the factory instead of being at work to take care of the medical things and to keep an eye on how it would cause physical pain.

His friendliness and just slightly insane mixed and he enjoyed the time together with her. To his surprise, she had worked as a nurse for a few years and both had an interest in the medical field.

Mark, on the other hand, scored with his sense of justice and his direct manner. He made it clear to everyone that he wanted something from her. The way he rolled up his sleeves to work on the machines when they tightened something together.

The way he made remarks and flirted, much to the chagrin of John and Amanda, neither of whom wanted to hear about it as long as the three of them didn't forget their goal in the work. The umstruckturieren, punish and judge the people.

The sun was already low in the sky when Y/n returned from her lunch break to her office for the last few hours. Closing the door to her office and enjoying the coffee she had bought just a few minutes before. Settling into her chair, she finally saw the bouquet of red roses lying on her desk.

Is it a birthday? she asked herself and looked at the calendar on her wall where the birthdays of her colleagues were listed. But there was no little cake to be seen that month.

Taking the bouquet in her hand she smelled the sweet roses, the redness of the blossoms matched her lipstick. She saw the small card in the bouquet and took it in her hands while she fetched a glass of water and put the bouquet in it.

,,For the most loving co-worker as a token of my love," she murmured the words that someone had written in cursive with a fountain pen. A message from a mysterious admirer had bought her the roses and seemed to be looking forward to them.

She looked at the roses with a smile and went back to her work. But during the remaining hours, her eyes kept going to the roses. The sweet blossoms, the scent that surrounded her, was intoxicating. Intoxicating until she walked out of her office and picked up a single one.

You could make any murder factory more beautiful, which is why she was even happier. ,,Hello, I'm here!" she called into the factory and got a cheerful hello back from Amanda who was working on the bear trap and John already seemed to be making new plans.

She put the rose in a coffee cup and filled it with water and put it on the small table by Amanda's bed. ,,Thank you" the black haired girl said and winked at the older one before Y/n disappeared into the corridors of the factory with a nod.

She looked into a few of the rooms and saw the various torture devices, some still in the middle of finishing work or in the testing phase. But that was not her goal. ,,I hope the stomach doesn't burst open again" she mumbled and could still remember the last time they wanted to place a bomb in one of the victims.

This, however, shortly after a false start led to complications and both died. A mistake that went on the cap of Lawrence and Y/n who had not switched everything on correctly.

Knocking on the door frame of the doctor's room she went in and saw the blond working on a person. He turned to her and seemed to be expecting someone else, but when his bright eyes went to her he smiled.

,,Hello Y/n, good to see you," he said cheerfully, pointing to the instruments he had laid out. She saw how he had already sewn up several wounds and was about to use hoes to probably hang the victim later. ,,A new device?" she asked and put on gloves before she started to hand him the things one by one.

He always gave her a thank you back and they both soon fell into a new conversation topic. She would be lying if she didn't like his calm and friendly manner. The little smile that was on his lips every time he pulled the needle with the thread through the man's skin.

He is always perfectly calm she thought and couldn't help but smile herself. The older one had noticed this and smirked as well, ,,What's so funny?" he wanted to know although they both seemed to know how absurd this all was. Two adults picking at one person.

Until they both burst into giggles and put away their medical tools to calm down. ,,Let's just hope that no-" she was about to continue when Lawrence put down the cutlery and stepped up with his prosthesis.

A mistake, as it turned out, when he drew in the air sharply and the bloody cutlery and tray fell off as he held onto the wall and almost toppled over. ,,Lawrence!" she cried, frightened, and hurried over to him, pushing the victim aside and supporting the blond doctor before taking him to a chair.

With a pained sigh, he tried to find a reasonably comfortable position before she pulled up his pants and looked at the prosthesis. ,,A screw came loose and cut your leg a little...I'll fix it...wait a minute" she said and he couldn't help but smile at her professionalism and caring.

More than once he had let his thoughts wander to her. He knew that his heart was beating for her but he didn't want to press her. Not like Mark.

He approached her and took off his prosthesis - he hadn't used his cane lately. ,,I shouldn't have been so independent of my cane," he said aloud and saw her give him a look of understanding before she came to him with the things.

,,It may have been a while now...but Gordon even I had to get used to my prosthesis," she said cheerfully and he looked at the three fingers of her right hand. Instead of flesh and blood, there was metal and leather and several joints connecting the three fingers.

Mostly, however, she wore a glove to hide the injury, not to mention the relatively large piece of her left ear that was missing after a bullet from a pistol nearly blew it off.

She didn't see the slight redness on his cheeks as she tended to his wounds and the blood. He had winced as she dabbed the disinfectant on the wound. His fingers briefly tightened on her shoulder and she gave him a moment to give himself time.

The position they were in she was kneeling in front of him practically between his legs and the pain stopped paired with her warm soft hands was something that made him draw in his breath sharply.

,,That should do it," she said in conclusion, tightening the bandage before sliding the prosthesis back onto his leg. Suddenly Lawrence's hand touched her cheek and she smelled that sweet smell again.

,,You gave me the roses," she said, and she felt as if someone had removed the board from her head. His smile widened and she felt the gesture of Lawrence pulling her closer. His fingers slid lightly over her body and he touched her gently.

She felt him pull her up, almost onto his lap, and she closed her eyes, hoping for the kiss, when suddenly a loud clearing of the throat was heard. ,,Doctor shouldn't you take care of your patients and let the living ones go?" Mark asked bitingly and gave the blonde a warning look before winking at the younger one and walking back into the hallway.

,,I need your help honey!" he called and she heard Lawrence shake his head in annoyance. ,,Thank you Lawrence" she said hastily and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and handed him his walking stick before walking behind Mark.

He seemed to have just returned from work, she smelled the smell of his gun, his aftershave and that smug feeling that surrounded him. ,,You can be nicer to him, you know," she reminded him, not liking that they didn't like each other. She knew that if they were going to keep doing this, they had to get along.

As soon as the next game was on, they all had to work together. ,,Don't be so sugar he'll get over it as soon as he can walk again" the brown haired man waved her off and she rolled her eyes as she walked with him to one of the machines.

She knew he had a more than deft hand for the traps. ,,Honey, can you get me the hooks from the main hall?" he asked and was already working on the metal. In answer to his question, she watched him for a moment before she disappeared.

A sigh inevitably escaped her and Amands patted her encouragingly on the shoulder. ,,Don't let it go to your head," she said, and John seemed to rebound from the whole affair.

His own relationship and love had been shattered by it all and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with it. ,,See that you get our new one and the trap ready...I don't want any delays Y/n" he said and she nodded showing him a look in which he let her know that she had finished it. Before the white haired one went back to his work himself. With the target in her hand she returned to the room and paused.

That's extra she thought and saw how the policeman had opened his shirt slightly, rolled up his sleeves and smiled broadly at her. ,,I knew it, good girl" he praised her and she threw him the heels which he found surprisingly good and started to work.

She leaned against the wall giving him new metal from time to time, but most of all she knew how much he enjoyed her looking at him.

How her eyes ran over his body and he was just wallowing in her gaze. After a few more moments of her looking at the trap and Hoffman in particular, he set the welder aside and tapped on the trap. ,,Sit down," he said, tapping the seat of the trap, which she knew could kill someone as soon as it was finished.

Sitting down on the cold metal, she was about to grab the blades when she felt his hand move up her thigh. Leaning against the metal and preventing her from escaping while she did not take her eyes off him.

At least he didn't allow that as he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. ,,You know, I could give you more than the doctor" he whispered to her and she saw how he came closer to her and the kiss seemed inevitable.

Suddenly a cane crashed against the metal of the tubes and he rose from her. ,,You're disturbing, you know that?" came the sarcastic question and Lawrence smirked smugly as Mark moved away from Y/n and grabbed the welder before the three went back into the main room.

But before that she had hastily risen and given Mark a kiss on the cheek as she did with Lawrence, standing in the middle while the two men stared at each other dismissively. ,,John, we're done," she said to the oldest, who nodded contentedly and withdrew.

She seemed to sense what was about to happen, which is why she was grateful that Amanda took her by the hand and the two women retreated together.

Between all that, they both seemed to have found each other the most. The kiss she got at the end of the day from Amanda herself. But the arguing noise could still be heard in the hallways of the factory.

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@lola-max-sugar , @megustadilf , @slut4hoffman , @agunislover