#he has his father‘s eyes

[kpstyles47]

My husband

And our son <3

[soobchwe]

beam me up —⋆˚࿔ 𝚌𝚜𝚋

SFW version of my fic posted here on @heechwe .ᐟ ୨୧ pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 1.9k ୨୧ genre: lots of fluff, smidges of comedy ୨୧ tags: parents!au, married!au, established relationship!au, pet names (love, bunny, baby, etc), down bad soobin essentially. ୨୧ synopsis: Going out after having a baby should be a breeze. So what if you don't feel incredibly confident? So what if you both act like awkward teenagers on your first date? It's you and Soobin, and that's all that matters. ➸ bless my pals @lovetaroandtaemin, @xomakara, and @heesuncore for reading this behemoth ilysm

Why am I so nervous? You think to yourself as you swipe the mauve shade in your hand across your bottom lip. Its light pigment prevents staining, yet provides noticeable definition, just enough to stand out. Your hair is in a low bun, two stray bangs falling over your cheeks. With your makeup and floral midi dress, you feel confident enough to step out and leave the house without becoming riddled with anxious thoughts.

The demands of motherhood have been hefty, but you clean up well. And despite all the dirty diapers and staying awake pumping, you’re ready to spend one night simply as Soobin’s wife. Perhaps a night out in town with your husband is exactly what you both need after three months of being parents.

It’s been picture perfect, without question. Minyoung has her father‘s pout when she sleeps, your long eyelashes, and the softness of a human being well beyond her years. But, you can’t deny that you miss the days where it was just you and Soobin in your own bubble.

Perhaps tonight, you can discover a balance where your old and new life blend harmoniously.

You step out into the living room to see Soobin with his mother, your daughter asleep in her grandmother’s arms. Soobin holds a laundry list of instructions in one hand and her car-seat in the other, waving his hands in frantic motions. “She usually naps like this for about two hours, but if she sleeps more, that’s even better. And then—“

Soobin stops short and looks back at you when he senses your presence. Your in-law and husband stare at you in disbelief. The frayed edges of your appearance from a few hours ago are nowhere to be seen.

Soobin looks at you like you hang the moon. His smile is small in the presence of his mother, him trying to maintain some semblance of modesty, but it’s ‌electric. “You look beautiful.” He sets the car-seat down on the floor to free his hand, reaching it out for you to take.

You do it gladly, smiling from ear to ear. Soobin also cleans up well, his button up tucked in his cargo pants. He’s always dressed a bit like a dad in training, and now he fits the bill‌. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Binnie.”

His face turns a shade of pink at the nickname, unable to hide your effect on him. He turns back to his mother and refers to the paper in his hand. “If you need something that isn’t in her diaper bag, please‌—“

“Soobin, I can handle it. Just spend the night with your lovely wife.” His mother winks at you and takes the car seat from him. “I promise to bring her back in the morning in one piece.”

You and Soobin kiss the top of Minyoung’s soft head and say your goodbyes, both of your hearts clenching. It’s the first time you’ve been apart from her for more than an hour or two, so the prospect is daunting, at the very least. “Be good for grandma, lil’ bun,” Soobin whispers to her sleeping figure.

When your mother-in-law leaves, Soobin looks back at you with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and desire. “Ready to go?”

You nod, sharing the same concoction of emotions. Most importantly, though, you’re relieved to finally have some alone time together. Wherever the night takes you is anyone’s guess. “Definitely.”

You both sit at the table in the restaurant like it’s your first date. Uncertain about what to expect once the meal ends, full of nerves and anticipation.

Soobin finds it hard to make eye contact with you, his eyes moving across the entire room. He can’t help it when you look so beautiful. You always do, but tonight is different. He’s been so stuck in the haze of being a new dad, it’s like he’s seeing you clearly again. Now, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve been married for half a decade, ‌yet every time he sees you, he falls deeper. It’s the first time for him every second he gets to touch you, kiss you, tell you how much you matter to him.

With a child, his feelings have only amplified. He looks at Minyoung some mornings and sees all the features he loves about you and vice versa in one human, his pride as great as his love.

But, instead of revealing he’s in the throes of intense admiration for you in the small Italian restaurant, he turns his focus back to the menu in his hands and looks over the wine list.

The appetizer you shared a few minutes ago has made him thirsty for some alcohol, it seems. “I know you have water, but do you want some Pinot, too? Oh! They have Moscato! I know that’s your favorite.”

It’s the way his eyes light up and his mouth curves into that signature O that makes you giggle‌, unable to contain it.

“What’s so funny?” Soobin looks up from his menu with mirth.

“Nothing at all, Binnie. I’m just happy.”

Your chest pinches at his soft reaction to your words, him looking over his menu at you with bright eyes.

Soobin has always been a goofball, intentionally or not, but it’s what makes him the best partner, among his many qualities. He knows when to be serious, taking the reins when necessary, but he’s well-versed in lightening the mood when you need it.

It’s surreal sometimes thinking about how you lucked out.

Suddenly, your thoughts cease thanks to the rising discomfort from your breasts. It started as an unnoticeable pinch when you gave your drink and light food order, but now it’s full-on pain erupting in your chest.

Why is it so uncomfortable?

You feel the droplets of milk settling into the fabric of your dress, your question answered in a flash.

The impending concern rises on Soobin’s face when he notices your scrunched-up brows and mouth. Then, he sees the two small wet patches forming on your chest. Immediately, he shucks off his jean jacket to give you. “Here baby, take this.”

A deep blush forms on your cheeks when you cover up with his garment. You’re unsure how to broach the subject or the rest of dinner in this state, immediately self-conscious. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing, I—”

“Baby, no. Don’t be sorry, it’s normal.” Soobin says the words with so much empathy, you could cry from that alone. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and clean yourself up, not listening to the words that leave his lips in rapid succession. You’re a mom. It happens to every mom at some point! I love you!

Soobin feels useless, knowing no words he says will assuage your shame. He decides now is as good of a time as any to check up on Minyoung. It’s been almost three hours since he’s talked to his mother.

When the line rings, Soobin doesn’t let it bother him. Minyoung probably needed a burping or night-time bath. No big deal.

By the second unsuccessful attempt at contact, his heart drops into his stomach. What if something’s wrong? As he tries to call for the third and fourth time, his thoughts spiral further.

What if his mother rushed out with Minyoung and she forgot to bring her cell because it was so serious? He knows babies usually are out of the woods for colic by the third or fourth month, but anything’s possible, right?

Parental anxiety is one thing, a feeling Soobin knows well by now, but his instincts are usually spot-on. And something has to be going on if his mother isn’t getting back to him.

You trot over to the table, tucking Soobin’s jacket tighter around your chest so it doesn’t flap open. The event may have been embarrassing at the moment, but you’re ready to get the night back on track and focus on your husband.

You smile eagerly, not noticing the way Soobin’s face has gone stark white. “I think I got most of it, but—“

“We have to go. Something’s wrong.”

You don’t think twice, practically stealing Soobin’s keys from his pocket when he stands up. The two of you race out of the restaurant and to your little girl, your thoughts newly scrambled in the worst ways.

Soobin tries to knock on his parents’ door without slamming his fist against the wood, but he can’t help it. So many scenarios have built up in his head since his intuition kicked in. He could barely say one word on the drive to his mother’s. The silence was palpable in the air, both of your bodies filled to the brim with fear and regret for leaving her for one second.

Soobin’s mother answers the door with a shocked expression. “Honey, what are you two—“

Soobin barrels past her and into the house. You follow hot on his heels. His pace is quick, his voice loud as he calls out Minyoung’s name like she’s able to answer him back.

Then, you find Minyoung perfectly content. Soobin’s dad has her in his arms at the dinner table, feeding her a bottle of milk. “Hey, kids. Why are you here?”

Soobin stutters when he responds. “M-Mom wasn’t answering and we—“

“Oh, lord.” You hear her deep groan pervade the small kitchen. “You left the restaurant for that?”

“What were we supposed to think?” Your words are full of defense, lighthearted now that you’re not in panic mode. Were your worst thoughts so unexpected? You felt bad enough leaving your daughter alone with people you trusted just for a night of solitude. If something worse had happened, the guilt would’ve been too much to bear.

Soobin rushes over to Minyoung and takes her from his father’s arms. Droplets of milk spill from her lips, but she doesn’t care. She reaches up to touch Soobin, her little nails gliding across his face. “Daddy’s here, Minnie.” He presses his forehead to hers, smiling proudly. “I’m right here.”

You tear up at the image in front of you, relieved to see your baby girl out of harm’s way. Even if the harm was entirely imaginary, you’re calmer nonetheless.

Soobin walks towards you and kisses the crown of your head. “Sorry I pulled a false alarm, baby.”

Although you’ll never tell him, you don’t mind that he did so. He’s an incredible husband and father, always on alert for the two of you and putting his needs to the wayside. You have to remind him every day to also think of himself, and he appreciates you looking out for him in the same fashion.

You shake your head and move Minyoung from Soobin’s arms to yours. You kiss her chubby cheeks and she coos at the attention, the spitting image of her father. “Daddy is gonna be the death of me, isn’t he, baby girl?”

Soobin chuckles into your hair and holds onto one of Minyoung’s fists with his palm. “Not if I can help it.”

“Now that you both have made sure she’s okay, go back to your date night!” Your mother-in-law strides into the dining room to pluck Minyoung from your grip. Minyoung is more than comfortable with it, smiling widely into her grandmother’s neck. “It’s rude enough that you both interrupted your dinner time and ours.” She turns to speak directly to Minyoung. “Right, sweetie? How dare they!”

You share another laugh with Soobin, tucking your face into his neck. Parenthood may not be the breeziest role, but with Soobin at your side, you believe with all of your heart that it’s one of the best adventures you’ll ever go on together.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @lapydiaries @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[pavardscherie]

fluff with pedri?? maybe dad pedri at camp nou?? 🤷‍♀️🙈

pairing pedri x f! reader

summary: you visit camp nou with your two year old son and pedri shows him how to own the pitch.

izzy‘s non-sense talk: okay, this killed me. have my child, please. i can only imagine him being such a great dad. hope you like it! and thank you for the request!

when the culers bought their tickets to the game, they expected a win from the team, they loved so dearly. what they did not plan on, was seeing a fan favorite midfielder in his most vulnerable state. on the pitch, when the minutes ticked away, pedri owned the game. dribbling out the enemies, finding the loopholes and adding assist after assist to his record.

the clear win spread happiness through camp nou, the individual players celebrated with the culers, clapping and singing the hymns they created. while most of them were occupied by the non-stopping cheering, pedri snuck away from the team to greet his two year old son, paulo. it was the first visit to camp nou, the little boy would remember. after all, he was a weekly guest when he was only a couple of months old.

pedri always tried his best to keep paulo‘s face out of the media, and hidden from the annoying photographers. this time, it was very different. the little hand disappeared in pedri‘s calloused palm, leading the two year old towards the empty goal. a football in his free hand, the midfielder wanted to show off the brilliance of his son to the culers and his mates.

paulo tried to hide himself behind his father‘s leg, the large crowds much scarier when standing in front of them than being in the middle of it. and as if the scene was planned and prepared, a couple of left over teammates started to shush the culers with their hands to allow paulo a perfect, and fearless first appearance in front of the crowds.

lewandowski has done it with his kids, showing them to the world with a proud smile plastered on his face while celebrating another win, another two goals he scored with them. but pedri has always been more protective with his son, always trying to keep foreign people far away from him.

pedri saw how much paulo imitated his father at home, trying to dribble the ball with his little feet, and outplaying you in the living room. and this time, the midfielder wanted to give his son the real chance to feel the cheering of the fans, the loud clapping and the hymn echoing through the stadium.

sharing smiles with his teammates, pedri led the little boy towards the white point in front of the goal. shooting a penalty was easier with no goalkeeper, but ter stegen immediately took his place in front of the net with a wide smile. obviously, he would not catch the ball, no matter how easy it would be.

crouching down beside his son, he whispered little hints about the goalkeeper‘s habit‘s into his ear, earning an understanding nod from paulo. „do it like pepi.“ you shouted from the sideline, clapping your hands together for your little everything. a small exemplar of pedro, the hair as black as charcoal, the sun-kissed tan a mixture of you and him. dressed in his own little jersey with ‚gonzalez‘ written on the back, paulo took a couple of steps back and showed ter stegen his tongue with a smile.

a signature gesture, a celebration gesture his father once made before pedri potter was born. truly exactly like the proud father, dressed in the barcelona kit with the number eight on the back, who stood beside his son with a wide smile. pride glistened in the curve of his mouth, and even tears gathered on his waterline, seeing the grown up little guy with his two years. paulo was everything pedro wanted after meeting you, and falling deeply and madly in love.

running forward, paulo kicked the ball with all his strength, watching with big, brown eyes and expectation. the ball jumped once, jumped twice, and ter stegen fell in the right direction but way too slowly and it rolled over the line. paulo could not believe what was happening, raising his hands in the air and running straight to his father, who watched proudly.

behind ter stegen, the culers cheered loudly, shouting pedris name but clapping for paulo‘s goal. the midfielder reached out for his son, picking him up in his arms with a wide smile. „did you see? i scored a goal just like you do!“ paulo boomed with happiness, giggling between the words.

„yes, yes, you did.“ pedri encouraged the little boy in his arms, his own world, he held tightly. „you just did it much better than pepi ever could.“

from the sidelines, you had your palms pressed to one another, the side of your fingers against your lips. pedri has been a good father before paulo was even born. always so caring, always so loving towards you and the growing belly. it was more than you could have imagined the night, you met the midfielder and engaged in a conversation.

the man you loved, who pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of paulo‘s hair. the little boy that looked exactly like his father, and would grow into such a great person as well. it was perfect.

[madhattervanessa]

Warmblood

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x f!Reader

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton, one of your father‘s loyal customers of your family‘s riding school, pays you an evening visit.

A/N: Actually I was thinking about writing more One Shots for these two, let me know what you think!

Warnings: (absolute FILTH I don’t know what posessed me, truly) fingering, grinding, oral sex (f receiving)

Words: 1904

-

“Milady”, you hum towards the maid in the doorframe and quirk a brow, your eyes still locked on what you’re writing down. “A gentleman is here to see you, ma’am-”

“I’m busy”, you simply retort, already turning back to the papers in front of you. The scratching of your feather lulls you back into a trance, eyes flitting over the numbers as you calculate the expenses and-

“Here you are.” Your eyes snap towards the door. A few years ago you would have stumbled over your feet in a hurry to get up and greet him, flustering to murmur something polite. But now you just sigh and sign off on another account.

“Viscount Bridgerton. What an honor. I had hoped the maid would have told you that I am quite busy.”

You hear him close the large doors behind him, fearlessly entering the room despite your hostility.

“Has your father left you to travel alone, now?”

“He is off... to a doctor, I think.”

He just hums in response and you toss another paper aside.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his fingertips dance over the edge of the desk. He passes you and there’s a whiff of freshly cut flowers and leather.

He comes to a halt behind you and you sigh as his hands roam over your shoulders. You sigh and do your best not to lean back. His breath fans over your skin before you feel him kiss your neck.

“I hope you are aware that half asleep is not as flattering a look on you as you might have come to think?”

“I need to finish these accounts for my father, Viscount Bridgerton”, you murmur. You only receive a displeased hum for an answer as you let your eyes drift closed. He kisses your shoulder and you lean away to give him more space. When you open your eyes again, you quickly grow distracted by his touch and bite the inside of your cheek as you watch his fingers indulge in a touch underneath the hem of your neckline. “You are aware that the riding lessons for your siblings shall not be receiving a discount-”

“That is not what I’ve come here for”, he interrupts, his fingers gently digging into the knots in your shoulders. You sigh and let his firm hands work at the pain there for a moment.

“What official business would you have in my family’s London residence, then, Viscount Bridgerton?”

“I had hoped wanting to see you would be enough reason to visit. Though I have brought you a gift, as well.”

“A gift?”

“Mhm. I will have it waiting for you in your bedchambers-”

You smack at his arm and open your eyes again.

“I have to finish these. Managing a riding school is hard work that has to be done right. Out of all people, I thought you’d understand.”

“Give me five minutes. I can help, after”, he suggests, his voice rasping pleasantly as you try your damndest to keep your focus on the papers in front of you. When he doesn’t let up, you stand, a measly attempt to escape his tempting grasp.

You turn towards him and watch as he cages you against the desk. Your nose brushes his and you suck in a sharp breath.

“Anthony.”

“Let us retire to bed.”

“I have to finish these accounts.”

His lips quirk and there’s that look in his eyes that spells nothing but trouble.

“So let me help you.”

“The Viscount Bridgerton helping with the expenses of another man’s business? Scandalous.”

“It is your business at this point.” You feel the heat creep up your neck at the earnestness in his voice. The stern look that follows as he reaches out to wipe at some ink staining your hand.

“My father would vehemently disagree.”

“Because he is too proud to admit that all he does by now is sign the accounts. Rumors are his daughter outdoes him at all but drinking.”

“So she does. Do you have any more praise for me, milord?”

“Would you like to request certain ones?”

You lift a hand to grasp his chin and let your thumb trace over the edge of his bottom lip. Your eyes meet before you pointedly stare at his lips.

“I can think of quite a few other ways you may be able to please me instead. Though they require less talking and to make use of your knees.”

He huffs with an amused quirk of his lips before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Alright.”

He drags the chair closer to the desk and you tilt your head at him.

“Come here, then. Finish your work.”

You hum, nodding as you eye him. He lunges at you and swiftly grasps your hand to pull you closer. You level another stern look at him before letting him lead you to sit on his lap, facing the desk. He presses another lingering kiss to the nape of your neck before scooting the two of you closer towards the desk.

“Go on.”

You swallow heavily against the lump in your throat and take up your feather again. You skim the numbers before you to find where you had previously left off. You feel him lean back slightly, and his hands splay your legs over his own as he does. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth as you start to jot down more numbers.

It is then that you feel his hands wander. He shifts, the left of it rucking up the hem of your dress as the right dives underneath the offending fabric. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, his nose nudging against your earlobe before he catches it between his lips. You feel yourself shivering under his bold ministrations.

You keep your focus on the paper in front of you, barely wavering in your penmanship as his right finds the ribbon of your stocking. You wait with bated breath as his hand wanders further and hear a sharp inhale when he discovers nothing else but warm skin.

“Where are your undergarments?”, he groans. You are caught between a smile and a gasp when he cups you between your legs.

“I’m at home... I was not expecting visitors”, you answer in a murmur. You strike through some of the numbers already calculated. Underneath you, Anthony shifts and you feel him twitch in his breeches, his hard cock jutting into your behind.

He sighs and lets two of his fingers swipe through the wetness between your legs. You sit up, rigid, as he curls them up to find the apex of your cunt. As you grasp the table with your second hand, he starts to delicately rub the tips of his fingers in small circles. His lips attach themselves to your neck, his hips rutting against you.

“Anthony- keep your hands...”, you trail off as he lets his other hand crudely paw at your breasts. He squeezes one of them and you stifle a moan. His fingers keep working underneath your dress and a zero quickly turns into a misshapen nine as he pushes his fingers inside of your dripping cunt.

“Anthony!” You hiss and he tuts, closely followed by a nibble of his teeth before he lets his hand gently pat the desk.

“Keep writing, So we may retire to bed”, he reminds you. You groan and furrow your brows as you start the line over on your scratch page. The fingers inside of your cunt slow to an infuriatingly slow pace. He chuckles at your predicament, obviously pleased with himself. “Go on.”

His thumb continues the previous gentle circles at the top of your cunt while his fingers inside of you coax gentle waves of pleasure out of you.

You bite back your moans, torn between keeping yourself perfectly still and frozen in place or squirming to drive him wild as well. 

Your hand shakes as you go over your last calculation again, making sure you did not accidentally overlook something.

You manage to finish another account, your hands shaky as you set down your quill. The slick sounds between your legs don’t stop even as you lean back, bracing yourself against the table as the pleasure climbs to a sudden high.

You bite down on your lip as you come undone. Anthony groans and pushes forward, forcing you to stand on your shaking legs.

The edge of the desk digs into your hips as he rucks the edge of your dress further up. You barely manage to save the inkwell from the chaotic shift- he brushes the papers aside and you know you will be angry at the chaos later but you don’t care if he keeps kissing your neck like he is right now.

“Anthony, I thought you would take me to bed-”

“I will, I just- I need to have you like this, first.”

You are about to ask what he means when you hear a dull sound. A moment later, his breath hits your cunt from behind. You shriek as he pushes his tongue against you. His firm grip makes you bend over the desk. He holds your dress up, exposing you to him fully as he opens his mouth to envelop your pussy before his tongue darts out to taste you.

You feel yourself blush as he licks at you. You have to bite down on a knuckle to smother your sounds, perfectly able to picture what he looks like as he flicks his tongue against you from behind.

You already know the image will haunt you for months.

A thick finger breaches you and you almost forget to breathe as the pleasure swells at his insistent, almost desperate moans.

Your thighs quiver as you cum a second time under his ardent ministrations. Anthony groans, fervently licking at the lips of your pussy before standing. You hold onto the edge of the desk for some sense of stability.

When you turn your head to look at him, he uses a handkerchief to clean his face. Your heart slams against your chest at the sight of his flushed cheeks and his cock that is straining against his breeches.

“Either we retire to the bedroom or I fuck you on the floor.” He is still panting and your lips part at the needy display. “Make your choice.”

You turn and ruck your skirts up further as you sit back on your desk.

“Come over here.”

“Your desk will break if we do that again.”

Your cheeks run hot and you let your mouth drop open at the memory of the last time on the desk.

“I’m fucking you on the floor then”, you mutter on an exhale. You watch him strip his shirt before you get off of the table again.

As soon as your feet touch the floor, he bridges the distance between the two of you, his hands quickly undoing the buttons of your dress until you are stripped down to your corset.

You grab his chin, your thumb digging into his bottom lip as you push him down to kneel in front of you. He grabs your waist, pulling you in as you push him further and further until he is lying down on the ground. You follow him down- this time his kiss is more gentle, his hands soft as he undoes the laces on your corset.

[sharenadraculea]

A tiny Castle

So I got this idea from this post and also this is just kind of me messing around with the reader-insert-format. Also I really needed to write some fluff Reader is Perturabos young child

@lemon-russ

~~~~~

„Papa, I can‘t sleep.“ You announce as soon as the doors have opend wide enough for you to squeeze through. 

Perturabo looks up and turns around, deep bags underneath his eyes. „Oh, has something happend?“ He stretches out his arms and a tired smile appears on his face as you run up to him. 

You giggle as he lifts you up. „I had a very evil dream. You went really far away and that was really bad.“ You explain as you try to take a look at your father‘s worktable. „Is that a castle Papa?“

„That? Oh…“ He quickly swipes away his notes, leaving only some sketches if a large war machine in front of you too. „Yes, yes it is.“

You take a closer look at the pictures. „Can I have it please? It‘s very pretty.“

Perturabo gently pets your head. „I think it‘s a little too big for you right now,.“

„Oh… then can I have a tiny little castle please Papa?“ You ask, looking up. „I really need one, you know?“

The smile on his face has gotten bigger. „Well, in that case do you have any wishes for your castle?“

You think for a moment. „Spikes! Lot‘s of spikes! And glitter! And I really, really need a big desk too! That‘s all very important.“

„Of course it is.“ Perturabo takes a new sheet of paper. „Should I also draw your castle?“

„Yes!“

[lolathestoryteller]

tainted with darkness (Narcissa’s pov of finding out about Draco’s pledge to the Dark Lord)

also on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59357410

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

Narcissa stares at the dark mark with wide, disbelieving eyes. Dread pools inside her at the way the harsh black ink has marred his pure, pale skin.

It is Draco, standing there, showing her what he‘d done to protect their family.

Draco…her little boy. He‘s only just turned sixteen.

She looks up into his pale blue eyes, and for a moment, they change colour. His face changes entirely into one slightly older, with even sharper cheekbones and even darker shadows beneath tired eyes.

Her breath hitches. Regulus.

Draco looks just like he did, when showing her the mark that will forever be part of him. And now, that very same curse stains her son’s skin — a horrible scar on his innocent frame.

No, please, not my son.

She won’t lose him like she‘d lost her cousin. Her dearest Regulus.

„Draco,“ she whispers.

She steps closer to him, reaching out to ghost her fingers over the mark. „What have you done?“

„I didn’t have a choice.“ her son replies, feigning a bravery he doesn’t own. He would not have fooled many, and least of all her. She can see the fear in his eyes.

Her stomach twists painfully. „He— he wouldn’t…you aren’t even of-age yet.“ she insists, though of course no argument could change what had already been done. „He doesn’t recruit underage—“

„He wants me to right Father‘s wrong.“ Draco explains quietly, the burden of such a task sitting heavily on his thin shoulders. He’s gotten so thin…and so…hollow in both body and soul.

Narcissa can barely look at him without feeling tears stinging in her eyes these days.

I failed you.

She takes his hands into hers, pulling him closer to her. „That isn’t your responsibility.“ she insists, squeezing his cold fingers. „You’re just a boy, Draco.“

He removes his hands from hers. „I’m sixteen.“ his expression hardens, hiding his true feelings entirely, even from her.

She shakes her head. Her tears swim dangerously in her eyes, no matter how much she tries to keep them down. „I know,“ she replies softly. „And that makes you still a child. My child.“ she grabs him by the shoulders, leveling him with a fierce glance. „I’d rather die than let anything happen to you.“

He looks surprised for a second, breaking her fragile heart — he should not be so surprised by her choosing him over herself. It is what any Mother would do, right? At least any loving Mother…and in all her life, Narcissa knows she could never love anybody as much as she loves her son.

„I did to protect you, Mother.“ he replies.

She pulls him closer again, all the way into her trembling arms, which get to hold him for the first time in weeks. „You don’t have to do that, little dragon,“ she whispers, clinging to him desperately.

She is very glad, in this moment, that he is still to grow taller than her. „That’s my job.“

[deadnotesapppoet]

“And he had never asked, either, because a dim, starved corner of his mind had liked it when his father lied to him. Looked him in the eyes and said something untrue. It meant that deep down, Pat Evans cared enough about his bastard-son to keep a secret from him.”

“He doesn’t remember anything else about that day. Not what he had had for breakfast, not if he had played with the kids next door, not even if it had been summer or winter. What he does remember— and probably won’t ever forget— is how the jagged edge of the beer bottle’s neck had felt breaking his frail skin. How a few shards had punctured his tongue. The grotesque look on his father‘s face when he realized what he had done. The tantalizing gentleness with which he had pulled the bottle back out of his sons cheek, murmuring apologies.” 

this fool has daddy issues! point and laugh girls!

[flowerxguts]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ——— | Free-Write — 2/5 | ———＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*

“We haven’t lived with her since I was fifteen, so around four years.” Dion declares, voice steady. He is staring directly at the judge, brown eyes boring into a very being. He is half-forgetting to blink.

He is focused intently to distract from the foreign feeling his mother’s eyes watching him from across the courtroom. She has never looked at him sober.

The judge taps her papers into a ray on the desk, placing them neatly before her as she asks her next question: “And who have you been living with?”

She looks up at Dion, who is suddenly intimidated by the eye contact. He shifts his eyes to the desk, prepared to lie.

“My father‘s friend, Alexandra, who is released earlier than my dad and stepped up for us.”

Does mom know he’s lying? 

[ncisfranchise-source]

CBS has an NCIS prequel series about a younger Gibbs in its crosshairs. But who is fit to fill a thirtysomething Mark Harmon’s shoes?

Well, we have some ideas!

Ordered to series earlier this month, NCIS: Origins will be set in the year 1991 and pick up with Leroy Jethro Gibbs as a “newly minted Special Agent at the fledgling NCIS Camp Pendleton office where he forges his place on a gritty, ragtag team led by NCIS legend Mike Franks.” TVLine has also learned that producers will be introducing a young version of Special Agent Vera Strickland, Franks’ onetime partner played by Roma Maffia in a Season 11 NCIS episode

In addition to executive-producing the well-watched franchise’s latest spinoff, Mark Harmon — who of course starred on the original NCIS for its first 19 seasons — will narrate NCIS: Origins.

And while Mark’s son Sean Harmon over the years has played a younger Gibbs in seven total NCIS episodes (via “flashbacks”), a new actor is being sought to fill the plum role on NCIS: Origins. Specifically, sources tell TVLine the spinoff is looking for an actor in his mid-30s, who ideally has blue eyes (like Mark Harmon).

The TVLine staff brainstormed some, and offer below a list of 11 possibilities, many of whom sport blue peepers. Review our picks, then weigh in with your own, ideal “Young Gibbs.”

Robbie Amell

We know, Upload — on which he stars as a digitally “resurrected” computer programmer — theoretically could get a Season 4 at Prime Video. But if that’s not in the cards, Amell could be a fine fit as Young Gibbs.

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: Upload, The Flash, The Tomorrow People, Revenge and others

EYE COLOR: Blue!

Matt Barr

We really like Barr for this. He brings a vitality to his roles, as well as swagger and charm, and he is no stranger to the Paramount/CBS/The CW family. Surely he’s on their radar.

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: Walker Independence, Walker, Blood & Treasure, Valor, Hellcats, Harper’s Island and others

EYE COLOR: Blue!

Ryan Hansen

OK, this is one of our wilder wild cards, seeing as Hansen’s resume is comedy-heavy. But we are admittedly curious to see if he could dial things in enough to lead a procedural. CBS, though, may not be as curious; plus, he’s one of the oldest (north of 40) picks on our list.

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: Veronica Mars, Party Down, A Million Little Things, Ryan Hansen Solves Crimes on Television (web series), 2 Broke Girls and others

EYE COLOR: Hazel

Matt Lanter

You kinda like this one, right? Lanter proved his leading-man chops on the gone-too-soon Timeless, and frankly he is due for a sure thing such as an NCIS spinoff.

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: Timeless, Jupiter’s Legacy, Star-Crossed, 90210 and others

EYE COLOR: Blue!

Chris Lowell

With How I Met Your Father‘s cancellation, he’s available. Though his previous drama roles have leaned a bit on the lighter side.

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: How I Met Your Father, GLOW, Graves, Enlisted, Private Practice, Veronica Mars and others

EYE COLOR: Blue!

Jake McDorman

CBS has twice before bet on McDorman, to headline its adaptation of Bradley Cooper’s Limitless movie and to play no less than Murphy Brown’s son. It’s almost hard to see how he doesn’t get this role.

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: Class of ’09, Mrs. Davis, Murphy Brown, Limitless, Manhattan Love Story, Greek and others

EYE COLOR: Blue!

Beau Mirchoff

With Ride cancelled and Good Trouble ending, we put forth Mirchoff, because he deserves nice things. Blue eyes? No. But his age (a reported 35) is right in the sweet spot NCIS: Origins aims to cast.

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: Ride, Good Trouble/The Fosters, Narcos: Mexico, I’m Dying Up Here, Awkward., Desperate Housewives and others

EYE COLOR: Green

Luke Mitchell

Like, how could we not suggest Mitchell? Yes, he’s about to recur on Chicago Med, with an option to maybe become a series-regular. But if a spinoff of TV’s most-watched drama came knocking with a leading role, that’d be quite the temptation.

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: Chicago Med (upcoming), Big Sky, Blindspot, The Code, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., The Tomorrow People, Home and Away and others

EYE COLOR: Blue!

Chris Pine

Let us stop you right there: If our list had a “reach school,” yes, Pine is it. He’s a total long-shot, given his big-screen bonafides. But if he’s tired of Trekking… man, he’d be quite perfect (if one of the older, 40-plus candidates on our list).

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: I Am the Night, Netflix’s Wet Hot American Summer sequel and prequel series, Angie Tribeca and others

EYE COLOR: Blue!

Ian Somerhalder

If Somerhalder, after so many years of genre-TV, is ready to settle down with a procedural, he in some ways does favor a young Harmon. That said, he appears to be the oldest, 40something actor on our list.

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: V-Wars, The Vampire Diaries, Lost, Tell Me You Love Me and others

EYE COLOR: Blue!

Lucas Till

The star of CBS’ five-season MacGyver reboot is perhaps the youngest of our picks, south of 35. And with FX’s Lee Daniels-EP’d The Spook Who Sat by the Door pilot being redeveloped, he is 100% available. A perfect fit for all…?

PREVIOUS TV CREDITS: MacGyver, plus guest spots on Blue Mountain State, House, Medium and others

EYE COLOR: Blue!

[aajjks]

TPOL!JK

“sorry, i know you’re a busy man but i was hoping you could partner with tina again for this huge project she has. she’s off in LA doing some modeling work but she wants to start another clothing line and you’re the only company she wants to collaborate with. the last time she had a clothing line it sold out, so i wondering if you’d like to do that again”

oh yes, the clothing line jungkook didn’t approve of but went through with anyway when they were “together.” the clothing line was indeed successful and put a lot of money in his pockets but it wasn’t cheap to fund either.

“here you are” says the secretary who neatly places the snacks and warm coffee beside jungkook’s desk. “cream and sure are right here” she points before leaving the two to finish their small meeting and as mr. hwang grabs the warm cup, his eyes dart to the picture on jungkook’s desk, a picture of a small little boy with glasses on.

“i apologize if i sound nosy but is this you?” he asks pointing to the picture and as his eyes drift, there’s a picture of you with jungkook kissing your big belly bump. the last one he sees is two babies, a girl and a boy all smiles laying on their backs and wearing a matching onesie. “you have a beautiful family” he compliments referring to the portraits.

“so what will it be? please consider the opportunity. the demand for fashion increases by the day and i’d hate for you to miss an opportunity as good as this one”

Jungkook can’t help but scoff.

“it’s so shocking that she wants to collaborate with my company when we had a very bad argument the last time we spoke- and I’m not sure if I want to work with her.” Jungkook doesn’t beat the bush around at all.

“And fashion isn’t my strongest suit when it comes to business.” He tries to reject the offer because he knows that she was friends with chaeyoung and he’s sure that she tried to conspire with chaeyoung over something, and he remembers, when he had to call with chae and he knew that Tina was there, he remembers insulting her and telling her that she was always his father‘s choice and never his.

But the old man tries to persuade him, so Jungkook sighs, “umm I would like to discuss this with my wife, and I will agree if she’s fine with this.” of course he’s going to ask you about this because he knows that you’re familiar with their history together and his exes have always been so problematic.

“And thank you.” he thanks Mr. Hwang for the compliment, “well have a good day ahead, I will let you know soon.” Jungkook bids goodbye to Mr Hwang after they’re finished talking and then Jungkook just goes on with his day. 

And after he attends the meeting about the hotel, which goes successful so he’s in a happy mood.

Until he’s reminded by his secretary that he has to pick up his son, four hours really went by so quickly he forgot to call you today.

And he still hasn’t eaten.

“Alright clear the rest of my schedule.” Jungkook says before grabbing his coat, and he’s out of the building. The drive to Jaemins school isn’t too far away, so he’s there within 15 minutes.

It almost 1 PM and he thinks he’s a little bit late, he gets out of the car and just waits for his son, and there comes Jaemin running along with his teacher.

“Hi champ!” Seeing his son makes him really happy. Jungkook quickly lifts up the three-year-old, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Did you Have a good day today?” and he greets the teacher too. “Played with ahnjong and the rest of your friends?” Jungkook chuckles when Jaemin starts to ramble about his day,

After saying their goodbyes to the teacher, he’s got Jaemin in the car, and they’re headed home while listening to their favorite songs and singing along to them.

Well, he’s driving and Jaemin asks him to get him ice cream, which, of course he says no to, “mommy will kill me, no.”

So Jaemin is pouty during the whole drive. jungkook drives to the house quickly and he opens the door to see you chatting on the phone with one of your friends maybe, while you’re breastfeeding one of the twins.

“WE ARE HOME!” Jungkook announces, holding Jaemins bag. You quickly cut the call and Make sure that the baby is well fed before you go to greet your husband and son.

And then you take Jaemin to bathe him and have him change his clothes, and jungkooks just busy playing with his children, “aww look at you.” He cries seeing the twins fully awake, he kisses the both of them.

Then after not so long, Jaemin comes in along with you, jumping around and then he crashes down on the couch, whining to his father, so he can play with his siblings.

So Jungkook gives in and puts the babies into their respective bouncers so they can be safe while your toddler plays with them.

And he has to talk to you about something really important too so he’s following you to the kitchen.

“Ynnn I missed you so much.” he has to back hug you every time, “today Mr Hwang, Tina’s dad visited me at the company and he requested me to work with Tina on some clothing line… and I was wondering if you were OK with that.. I’ll have to go to LA, America. I don’t want to leave you and the kids and ma alone all on your own here..” he tells you everything while you’re preparing some food.

And his mouth waters at the sight of that.

“at first I declined him I mean I rejected the offer, but then he was really persuasive about it and he said that Tina only wanted to work with my company which is a little weird but I just wanted to know what do you think I should do?”

[the-royal-blue-network]

Step into the Concrete Jungle; home to the New York Yankees, The Empire State Building, and The LaVine family.

In The Big Apple The LaVines are well known amongst the lower class; providing the less fortunate with meals, warm blankets, and quick fixes, The LaVines have done more for the homeless than any politician ever could.

But Pauly and Paula LaVine’s good deeds are fulling no one.

NYPD detective, Dani (she doesn’t have a last name) knows that all The LaVines ‘out reach programs’ are the family’s way to try and throw law enforcement off their scent.

For years Dani has studied and trained, wanting more than anything to be part of the team that finally takes down TheLaVines.

Back when Dani was merely a twinkle in her father‘s eye, her father, captain Jackson and his team hunted Pauly, and his men. For years Jackson watched men and women attempt to penetrate The LaVine circle and get information, only to fall victim to drugs, money, and women, and end up in body bags. For years Jackson prayed that he’d live long enough to put Pauly and his goons away, but deep down inside, he knew there was a good chance he may never live to see the day. But things begin to look up for Jackson and theNYPD, when Paula and Dani meet in the bathroom of a nightclub, and Dani peeks Paula’s interest.

Will Dani finally be the one to put The LaVine family behind bars; or Will Dani suffer the same fate as many of the men and women who came before?

There’s only one way to find out!

Start Here

[vampireloverz]

it’ll make you feel better

pairing: shouta aizawa x fem! reader

words: 3k

cw/tw: pseudo incest/stepcest, slight dubcon cause reader has a fever, age difference, daddy kink, mention of adultery, a little praise kink, pet names (including puppy, baby doll, etc.), aizawa ties up reader’s hair

a/n: this is a companion piece/sequel to my hitoshi-nii fic but could be read on its own!

—  Aizawa pulls you closer to him as you wipe errant tears from your face, “Why didn’t you tell your daddy, hm? You’d rather have Hitoshi take care of you, not me?”

You don’t think about the implications of the question when you answer, “No, I like it when you take care of me.” —

✰ ✰ ✰

You hate being sick. Of course, it’s not like anyone enjoys it. Normally you can muscle through it but this time it’s worse, like this fever might be the most unpleasant you’ve ever experienced. You’re aching all over, cycling between overheating and shivering so hard your teeth chatter. You felt a little under the weather last night but thought nothing of it until you woke up feeling like the weight of the world was packed into your skull.

You don't want to miss out on the movie your family is going to see today but your body isn't giving you a choice. You hear them getting ready downstairs; your mother packing her purse with pre bought snacks you and Hitoshi like, Aizawa double checking that he has the tickets, Hitoshi looking for his car keys. You can’t find the strength to leave your bed to let them know you can’t come, you can’t even reach over to use your phone.

Your head swims as you slip in and out of light sleep, you don’t know how much time passes until you hear a knock on your door and your father‘s voice calling out, “Are you coming? We don’t want to be late.”

You grunt, frustrated when your voice won’t come out. He cracks open the door and peeks his head in to see you splayed out on your back. He comes to the side of your bed and lays the back of his fingers on your forehead. They’re cold and silky against your hot and sweaty skin. You turn on your side towards him chasing the comfort and huff when he pulls away.

“Oh, why didn't you tell me you felt bad, little girl?”

You just whine and rub your face into your pillow.

He whispers something you don’t catch and taps your cheek before he leaves your room. You’re barely aware of the conversation happening outside your door. You hear Aizawa convincing your mother and Hitoshi to go on without you, he’ll stay behind to take care of you and take you to the movie another day. 

Hitoshi tries to insist that he can wait until you feel better but your mom says she’s been wanting a mother-son day anyway. Then they’re leaving the house before you know it. 

You roll onto your back and sigh, feeling sleep tug at your consciousness until Aizawa comes back with a bowl, a bottle, and some medicine. He sets them down on your nightstand and sits by your side.

“Open up.”

You let him slip a spoonful of medicine between your parted lips, wrinkling your nose as the taste slices through your sick haze. Aizawa chortles and brings the bottle of water to your mouth to wash the flavor out. He sets it back on your nightstand and you hear water splash in the bowl. You pry your eyes open to see him dunking an old towel repeatedly in the bowl he brought. 

“Close your eyes, it’s okay.”

You obey and groan at the first contact of the fabric on your skin. He brushes the hair stuck to your forehead away with the rag, it's cool and soft against your feverish skin. You already feel a little better, sighing softly as he brings the rag down your face into the hollow of your throat. He pauses there, resting right on your collarbone. You crack your eyes open to see he's no longer smiling. You don't like the unreadable expression on his face.

“Daddy?”

“I know,” he says.

Your heart leaps into your throat, you don’t know why, “Know what?” you whisper.

“You’ve been sleeping with my son.”

It takes a moment for your addled brain to process the words but the instant you do tears of mortification spring into your eyes and swiftly roll down your cheeks. You don’t ask how he knows, you’re not sure you even want to know how he found out. Your sickness is making you feel extra sensitive, like every emotion and touch is amplified tenfold. You hate this feeling, you can’t bear to look at Aizawa’s face any longer. You turn away from him, curling into your side and covering your face with your hands as you cry. 

“Darling,” Aizawa coos, sliding into your bed to hold you. He rubs one hand up and down your arm, his other brushing your hair out of your face. “Don’t cry, it’s alright.”

He whispers your name soothingly in between soft kisses to the side of your neck and face. It’s odd, you know he shouldn’t be doing that but you can’t bring him to stop. Your overheated skin feels alleviated by the little touches of his lips and hands. 

After a few minutes, you think you can manage to speak, but your voice comes out squeaky and strained. “Daddy, ’m sorry, I—” another cry falls from your lips, “I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

Aizawa pulls you closer to him as you wipe errant tears from your face, “Why didn’t you tell your daddy, hm? You’d rather have Hitoshi take care of you, not me?”

You don’t think about the implications of the question when you answer, “No, I like it when you take care of me.”

“Hm,” he says as he pets your hair, “Can you tell me what you two did?”

“Daddy… I…” you swallow down another sob and bite your lip. 

“Would you rather show me?” he murmurs in your ear, almost a purr. 

You shouldn’t feel your clit throb at the thought of him touching you. Fucking your stepbrother is one thing, fucked up as it is, but your stepfather? He’ll be cheating on your mother, with her daughter of all people. You know this, yet, you can’t even pretend to feel sick at the thought of him fucking you like Hitoshi has.

God, you’re such a stereotype, a dumb little girl getting horny for her father figure. You ignore that Aizawa is acting stereotypically too, offering to fondle his daughter without a second thought. 

You don’t trust yourself enough to speak so you just take his hand off your arm and place it on your collarbone.

Aizawa doesn’t gasp, not quite, but you hear and feel his breath come harder, faster. He kisses the hinge of your jaw as he moves his hand down your shirt to slide over one of your breasts. 

“Tell me, did he touch you here?” he asks as he squeezes it lightly, thumb encouraging your nipple to harden under his touch. He rewards you with a kiss on the shoulder when you gasp out an affirmation. He plays with your nipple for a little while longer until he slides his hand over to the other side of your chest, “My little girl has such cute tits,” he comments, setting your face ablaze.

You feel yourself tighten around nothing as he plays with your chest, “Daddy!”

Aizawa moves his hand away, running his fingers down your stomach until he reaches the top of your panties. He hesitates until your hips buck upwards, encouraging. You think you feel him laugh. 

“And here?” He grazes the tips of his fingers along the front of your panties, dragging them agonizingly slowly until he finds your clit.

You nod, feeling dizzy and bubbly all at once when he rubs you back and forth. 

He presses against your hole through your panties, you gasp when you feel the wetness gathered there. “Did you let your big brother inside your pussy?” 

You wince at his words, not expecting him to be so explicit. “Yes!” you sob.

“It’s alright,” he takes his fingers away. “Being honest with me is good, you’re a good girl.”

You almost start to cry again when he moves back but he shushes you with soft noises before he pulls your shoulder to make you rise.

He encourages you to sit up, helping you into place until you straddle him. He smiles at your charming dopey expression and kisses your cheek, making you smile in return. He slides the hair tie around his wrist off and tells you to lean your head forward. You drop your head to his shoulder as he gathers up your hair, making sure it’s up and away from your neck. You giggle when he blows cool streams of air across your neck, the dull ache between your legs forgotten for now.

“Feel better, princess?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good.”

Aizawa pushes you back gently until your weight is resting on his legs so he can reach towards your nightstand to take the wet cloth out of its bowl. One of his hands settles on your thigh as he begins to work, you don’t mind it at all.

He tucks some loose hair behind your ear before swiping the rag across your temple as his other hand’s thumb steadily strokes your thigh. It shouldn’t feel this good, having Aizawa caress your skin like this. Your mind blanks out and just focuses on the feeling of him all around you, he wipes your cheeks before he kisses them and it makes you smile. His hand slides higher on your thigh, his thumb pushing against the softness there. You bite your tongue and try to ignore that it feels nice. 

“Stop squirming,” he commands, you didn’t even realize you were, “You should know what that does to a man.”

“Huh?” You blink at him, pretty and fake innocent. 

“A cute girl sitting in my lap, moving around like that?” He slides his hand higher on your thigh so his thumb drags along the edge of your panties at the crease of your hip. You’re immediately aching to have his hand on you again. 

You look down at his arm and shimmy forward slightly so that he’s touching you through your underwear, you sigh and grind yourself against the barely there contact. You blindly grab for his free hand and toss the rag to the floor before you press his hand to your chest again. You arch into his hands and feel your whole body heat up. “You really think I’m cute, daddy?”  

He chuckles and starts to touch you with purpose, “Like a puppy, begging for my attention.”

You hum, agreeing with him. You think you’ve always wanted your daddy’s attention like this, why hadn’t you ever thought to ask before? You half-lidded eyes float up to his lips and you watch them curl into a lazy smile. 

“Do you want something, puppy?”

You don’t look away from his mouth as he speaks, you don’t even feel ashamed anymore, “Kiss, daddy. Kiss me, please.”

He takes his hand off your chest to tuck his finger until your chin, tilting your head up so it's easier to make your lips meet.

You’ve never kissed someone with stubble before, it scratches against your face but it feels kind of nice, it’s like physical proof that Aizawa is mature. You curl your arms around his shoulders, sliding one of your hands in his hair and making a tiny sound when Aizawa’s tongue presses against you. You push your tongue against his right as his fingers slip past your panties, making you whimper. 

He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, “God, you’re soaked. It’s like your gorgeous little pussy is begging for me…” He presses a quick kiss to your lips and hums out your name as he toys with your clit. “Do you want more, sweetheart?”

You rock your hips down and push forward to kiss him again, needy. “Oh, please, daddy, wan’ you inside me. It’s too much, please.”

Aizawa lays sweet comforting kisses across your face as he pushes you to lie back on the bed. He pulls up on your shirt until it comes off so he can slide his tongue against your nipples, sucking them one after another into his mouth for a moment before he moves down. He tugs your panties off, kissing down your heated legs as he does. He throws your clothes into your hamper before he takes off his jeans and lays by your side, stroking the inside of your thigh and pressing his erection to your hip. 

You nuzzle into his neck and whine, pressing open mouthed kisses along his skin as he drags his fingers along your slit. “I’ll take care of you, pretty girl, I want you to feel better.”

You clasp one hand over your mouth and bite down on a finger to stop a yelp from flying out, it makes Aizawa give a noise of disapproval.

“No, no, I want to hear you,” he frowns and pulls your hand away from your mouth. You don’t like making him frown so you don’t hold back, whining and panting without a second thought as he pushes his first finger inside. He pumps it gently for a minute until he pushes another in alongside it.

Your eyes almost roll back into your head, his fingers are so long and perfect that they reach places yours can’t. Your hips jolt when he touches your cervix softly and his hips press against you mindlessly, almost like a response.

He peppers kisses along your neck as your hips roll up to meet his fingers, “Such a perfect, good girl,” he laughs when you clench down because of the praise, it isn't mean but it makes you feel embarrassed all the same. He pushes his thumb on your clit, dragging it in small, tight circles. “How’s that feel, baby doll?”  

You giggle, delirious. “Daddy, it— ah, feels good!” You clumsily push your head up and knock your noses together when you kiss him. You slide your tongue past his lips, sighing when he opens up for you.  

He pumps another finger inside, groaning deep in his throat at how you tremble and moan into his mouth. “I bet you’d take my cock so well, you’re so beautiful. Fuck, in your mouth, in your tight little pussy, I’d fill you up so much,” Aizawa’s thumb moves down to collect the slick flooding out of you and onto his fingers before pressing harder against your clit. “I’d fuck you however you wanted, I’d do all the work to make my princess satisfied.” 

His fingers are ruthless and precise, like he’s fucked you with them a thousand times before. You hope he’ll do this to you again and again, even if you aren’t ill. “I can feel you tightening up, would you like that, hm?” You nod frantically, getting wetter at the mental image of him filling you with his cock. “Would you want me to stuff you with my cum, with daddy’s cum?”

You almost finish right then and there, “Oh, my— fuck yes—!”

“I want you to cum on my fingers, can you do that for me?” He kisses your hairline and harshly flicks his wrist, driving his fingers impossibly deeper.

You grasp his arm as one of your legs kicks out, trembling from the pleasure of your building orgasm. “Mhm, please don’t stop! G’nna make me cum!”

He stills his fingers inside of you to focus on pressing his fingertips against the little swollen spot inside your cunt. Paired with his thumb steadily massaging your clit, you have no choice but to cum. 

Your eyes press shut tight as you ride his fingers through your orgasm, arching into him as your breath stays caught in your throat until it breaks into a choked wail. You collapse back onto the bed, legs quivering and fucked out moans escaping your parted lips. Aizawa pulls his fingers out of you and slides them into your mouth. You suck on his fingers happily until they’re clean, you can barely taste anything due to your sickness but it’s worth it to see the downright starry-eyed expression on your stepfather’s flushed face. You think he’s never looked more handsome. 

You can barely move but you want to make him feel good too, you want him to fuck you. Your hand reaches for his cock pressed against you but he pushes you away. 

You feel tears spring up in your eyes, “You don’t want me, daddy?”

Aizawa looks like you’ve just slapped him, all sad eyes and furrowed brows, “No, baby, no. Daddy wants you so bad, can’t you tell?” He humps his cock against you just to prove his point. “But this was to take care of you, sweet girl. You’re sick, and I bet you’re tired now.”

You shake your head at him, “Don’t care, I can take care of daddy too! Please, wanna make you feel good too.”

His lips tick up and you smile back at him, half asleep and dazed. “I don’t want you to do any work, alright?” Aizawa turns you on your side once you nod and slides his underwear down before he curls into your back to rut against your ass, “It’s okay, just let daddy use your body, you’re making me feel so good.”

His arms wrap under your arms to get his hands on your tits again, squeezing them like he’s trying to anchor himself to your body. You sigh and cover his hands with yours, arching your back into his hips and hands. You like being good for him, you want to be obedient for your daddy, you want to make him cum. 

“Daddy!” You shiver as he pants against your neck, “Please cum, daddy, please!”

You yelp when he unexpectedly sinks his teeth into your shoulder, his voice muffled as he moans. You’re so warm from your fever that you barely feel his cum spread across the small of your back. He keeps humping until he makes himself whimper, until you both are overstimulated and trembling. 

“Fuck, oh,” he gasps out your name, “You did so well for me, you’re my perfect girl, wish I could’ve cum inside you, ah.”

The thought of that makes you mewl as you link your fingers in his. You trace your fingers along the indents of his teeth left on your skin.

He kisses the back of your jaw and sighs as he relaxes, “I guess there’s always next time, pretty girl.”

✰ ✰ ✰

thanks for reading ( ʃƪ˘ ³˘ ) 🤍  

thanks to the lovely shai, @hqmonarch​, for beta reading!! 💘

[devoutlywished]

how do you think the media treated harry? like, do you think he’d have been treated like the kardashians or something? i mean, he’s the son of a billionaire, and he’s cute, and he’s single. would the tabloids write about him? would there be articles in tiger beat about him?

oh now we’re getting to the good stuff

i’ve definitely thought about this before. like this was the 2000s, the peak of trashy celebrity gossip mags. i KNOW they were talking about him, for the reasons you said, like he’s perfect tabloid fodder. i imagine he was probably at least sort of in the spotlight from a very young age as his father‘s success grew, but i don’t think he would’ve really been a hot topic until sm2, because 1. that’s when he started getting involved with oscorp 2. that’s when his life started falling apart. this was the britney era and people LOVED watching someone self-destruct. like probably everything that was happening to him– the disaster at otto’s lab and oscorp losing money, his spiral into alcoholism, his public meltdown at the planetarium party (i’ve talked about that before cause i know the tabloids were going WILD), his relationships (or lack thereof). definitely magazines tried to market him as a teen idol heartthrob in mags like tiger beat but i could see that fading as he continued having zero romantic relationships, as people became more focused on him as a train wreck than him as a potential sex symbol. i also think as he continued having no real romantic relationships, speculation regarding his sexuality would be unavoidable like people would LOVE to read about that. again the homophobia in the 2000s was rampant. like i remember when every male celeb had gay rumors and they’d be treated like a complete joke until the media moved on to something else.

i feel like the media is underused in harry-centric storylines and i think taking into consideration that so much of his life is in the public eye really adds to his mental decline and eventual breakdown. it’s just another layer of pressure, it’s just someone else he has to worry about impressing. so much of his life is on public display. if he fucks up, if he makes a mistake, everyone sees it. everyone is watching, everyone is talking, and no one is helping.

[peachoony]

chasing love - one

Genre: mafia!au, smut, arranged marriage

Warnings: blood, kidnaping, basically violence, smut

Word count: 3.2k

Pairing: mafia leader!changkyun x fem!reader

A/N: yes another mafia lmaoo, but this will definitely have more parts. actually i had this au written for a very long time in my drafts so i thought i’d post it.

You greeted all the new guests with a smile while looking for your parents, who were talking to other guests. You walked to them, hoping you wouldn’t get interrupted by some auntie telling you how much you’ve grown up, since the last time she saw you. By the time you reached them they were already bowing goodbye to the guest.

“Dad the priest has arrived and Uncle Minho is asking for you.” You informed him and he nodded, leaving you alone with your mother.

Well actually not really mother. Your parents had passed away in a car accident, before you could even start collecting any memories with them and your biological father‘s brother – your now father – adopted you and now you called them mom and dad. They were just like your actual family.

„You look beautiful, y/n.“ Your mother smiled and you smiled back while looking down on you. You were wearing a baby pink silk dress with some accessories and your hair was lying with wavy curls.

„Thank you mom, but so do you. Still looking all young,” you said making her chuckle and playfully hit your arm.

“Stop it, will you?” She rolled her eyes playfully. “Can you go to up to Mirae and help her a bit with the preparations, I’ll come get you two when it’s time.” She continued and you nodded, mumbling a ‘sure’ before walking up the stairs to the bride’s room.

You knocked twice before walking in with a big smile, but you were rather greeted with an empty room.

“Mirae?” You said and silence answered you.

You opened the bathroom door but nothing. Where is she? You walked further into the big room and your face fell into a deep frown, when you saw Mirae’s wedding dress on the bed. You immediately walked to the bed and your eyes found a folded paper next to it.

No. No she can’t do that. Not today.

With shaking hands you picked it up slowly opening it, scared of confirming your biggest nightmare.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’m sorry I haven’t told you this before and It’s probably too late to fix anything, but I can’t marry Changkyun. I tried to force myself but the feelings aren’t there anymore. I fell in love with someone else and, before I could’ve done something that could’ve hurt him more I decided to leave all this behind. Don’t try to find me, I’m happy.

~ Jeon Mirae

You stood there for a while, slowly letting your arms fall next to you, grasping the letter tightly. It took you a moment to realise what just happened, but when it did it came crashing down on you like a tsunami. You blinked a couple of times, still unsure what to do as anxiety started taking over you.

You opened the door, running through the hallways trying to find your parents as you placed a hand against your forehead, but before you reached the stairs you ran into a bigger figure making you stumble back. You looked up, your eyes meeting the ones, you wanted to see the least right now.

“Y/n, I’m sorry I didn’t see you.” He apologized, his icy expression not leaving his face, as always.

You looked at him with widened eyes, still grasping onto that piece of paper. His eyes scanned your face and he tilted his face.

“Why are you crying?” He suddenly asked, making you sniff. You were crying?

“I…” you started still at a loss of words. “Is everything okay?” He asked, now frowning.

“Mirae…” you said, getting his attention now. “What’s with Mirae? Is she okay?” He was clearly confused on what’s going on.

You nervously looked around, going through a panic attack.

You’ve been walking on heels for years now, but suddenly you couldn’t even stand on them. You needed to sit down with your wobbling leg. How will you tell him that?

“Y/n what happened to Mirae,” he said again louder, stepping closer and you gulped, suddenly scared of him.

“Mirae, she...is not in her r-room,” you choked out, hands shaking when you held up the letter. Changkyun looked at the letter then back to you before grabbing it as his eyes slid from left to right.

Slowly the letter slipped from his hands and landed on his neatly polished shoes. He stared into nothing, before coming back to his senses. You expected him to at least show some emotions, but he just stood there with a clenched jaw. His eyes met yours and you both looked at each other for a solid minute.

“She did what?” Your father yelled out standing up, making the chair fall to the ground.

“We can’t cancel the wedding,” Changkyun’s father said, shaking his head. “What will the people say? They will look down on us.” He added.

“I’m so sorry Minho, If I had known she would do that…” he trailed off and your mother placed a hand on his shoulder.

Changkyun didn’t say anything, while sitting on the couch. His cold eyes looked into nothing with his hand rubbing his jaw.

You sat on the bed still looking at her million dollar wedding dress. Their voices faded and your eyes went back to the letter and you sighed silently. When your name fell, you looked up confused on why you were relevant in this conversation.

“Right, why can’t y/n marry him?” Changkyun’s father said.

“What?” You blurred out, instantly covering your mouth with your hand. “I mean...How can I do this? This is not my place,” you explained and your mother walked to you.

“Y/n right now is not the time, please do us that one favor. Everyone is outside waiting.” Your mother spoke up and you looked over to Changkyun, but he didn’t seem to care what was happening, blinking a couple of times you looked down. “People will look down on us y/n. What image will we bring across? They will take us a joke,” she added and you frowned, deeply in your thoughts.

“Y/n, you won’t regret this decision, I promise you that,” Chanwoo, Changkyun’s brother said this time.

You looked up into the mirror and here you were in a wedding dress, that wasn’t even yours, just like the place as Im Changkyun’s wife. Your heart pounded against your chest as your father walked with you to the hall. You liked Changkyun, maybe more than you were allowed to. You didn’t know when those feelings took over your heart, since it was pretty obvious that your families would form an alliance of the clan’s, but the moment Changkyun’s family asked for Mirae’s hand in marriage, your heart broke into millions of pieces. You were honestly still hoping somewhere deep in your heart that it would’ve been you. That it would’ve been you he fell in love with, but who were you fooling? Mirae was always the prettier one out of you two, always the one everyone liked more. She had all the friends and the lovers. How could you even think you can compete against her? Of course he would choose her, of course he would choose a pretty, outgoing and loveable wife. All these years you pushed your feelings aside and now that you’ve finally mastered hiding those feelings, you’re becoming his wife. You wanted him to be yours secretly for so long, but not like this. Not as a replacement of his actual love. Not as his last option.

“I’m so sorry,” your father spoke up, making you look at him. “You don’t deserve this y/n. You’re not supposed to clean after your sister's mistake,” he continued clearly ashamed.

You stayed silent, not sure what exactly to say. “If you don’t want this, tell me now. I will manage something.” He seemed disappointed in himself.

You shook your head squeezing his arm. “Accepting someone else's daughter and actually treating her like your own kid is not easy. Despite Mirae being your real daughter you always treated us fairly, always making sure I have everything she had. I never felt like an orphan, thanks to you dad.” You smiled as he looked at you with teary eyes.

“You’ve never let me down, now it’s my turn.” You added and he pulled you into a hug.

“You’re not an orphan and neither are you someone else's daughter,” he said after placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my daughter. And after today my only daughter.”

You sighed giving your best holding your tears back so you wouldn't ruin the make up as a smile spread over your face.

“I’ll make sure he treats you right, y/n.” Your father said and you nodded. “I know you will.”

If it wouldn’t be for Changkyun holding your hand, they would be shaking like crazy and when he slid in the ring you almost scoffed. This wasn’t supposed to be the finger the ring should be on, this shouldn’t be the hand he should be holding, this shouldn’t be your dress and this shouldn’t be your husband, but now it was.

You looked around the big room. You were in here once, because of your sister Mirae, but now you’re here as Changkyun’s wife. A sigh left your lips and you leaned back against the headboard, closing your eyes.

So this is your life now?

It was still hard to believe but it was best for you to get used to this, since you would only hurt yourself. Your eyes shot open at the sound of the door opening and you instantly sat up at the sight of Changkyun walking in.

He walked to his dresser, taking off his watch and tie without looking back at you.

“Changkyun,” you started clearing your throat as you stood up from the bed.

“I’m sorry all this happened and I know that I wasn’t supposed to be here today. This is not my place but it happened and I promise to not bother you at all.”

He turned around blankly staring at you and you gulped, clearly uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. You were about to speak up, but he suddenly walked into your direction making you stumble back, falling back on the bed.

“Is that all?” He asked and you shuddered at the harsch tone.

He grabbed your wrist, not as harsh as his tone, and pulled you with him to the door and the next thing you knew was him closing the door in front of your face. You stood there for a while, before you realized what just happened.

He threw out of his room.

You couldn’t believe you were standing in front of your husband's room, after he just kicked you out. Tears started gathering at the corner of your eyes and all you wanted to do was fall to your knees and cry. You knew that you wouldn’t get the love and affection from Changkyun as a husband, but if you knew that he would straight up throw you away like a piece of shit, you would’ve definitely reconsidered this marriage. You would’ve saved you from this hell. You couldn't spend the rest of your life like that, not with your own husband treating you like a complete stranger. The thought of living like that just brought more tears into your eyes. You wanted to go home, to your father. You wanted to go back to him. You don’t want this life.

“Y/n?” You suddenly heard someone call your name and you froze, scared to turn around and face whoever was standing there. You slowly turned around looking straight into Chanwoo's eyes.

“Do you need anything?” He asked confused as to why you were standing here in the hallway at almost midnight. You blinked a couple of times, panicking inside and thinking of a plausible answer.

“Uh no…thank you,” you stuttered. He nodded slowly looking to Changkyuns door then you. “Why are you not going in?” He asked with an raised eyebrow and you opened your mouth just to close it again, left with no answer.

“He kicked you out didn’t he?” He sighed and you looked away, clearly embarrassed at the fact that you got kicked out from your own husband.

“That jerk,” he mumbled and started taking steps towards the door, but you immediately grabbed his arm. “No please don’t say anything to him,” you said and he frowned.

“Y/n, he can’t do this. Let me talk some sense into him,” he said and you shook your head. “Chanwoo, please just...don’t.” Your begging made him sigh again and he took a step back.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked you after he walked you to the guest room.

You stayed silent not knowing the answer to his question either. Why were you doing this? Better said why was Changkyun doing this? Why does he hate you so much? Was it really your fault that your sister decided to run away? That you got talked into marrying him?

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry you got into this situation.” His last words before he disappeared wishing you a good night.

You sat there for a while and before you knew the tears started running down your face.

You opened your eyes as you felt someone gently shake your shoulder. “Miss, good morning,” a woman smiled and you knew she was one of the workers here. You sat up and blinked the sleep away, before you realized you didn’t have the chance to change, still sitting here in your wedding dress.

“Breakfast is ready in 30 minutes. Please freshen up, I’ll bring you your clothes.” She informed you and you nodded still in the process of waking up.

When she left you sighed and fell back into the bed. You barely got any sleep, all you did was cry and miss your parents. What were they doing right now?

After recalling last night you stood up and walked to your, well Changkyun’s room and thank god he wasn’t there. You quickly got out of your dress straight to the shower and the moment the warm water hit your skin you closed your eyes. You felt your muscles relax, especially after yesterday where you slept in a dress in the most uncomfortable position. After a while you heard the door open and you remembered the worker telling you she will bring you your clothes.

“Place my clothes on the island next to the bathtub, please.” You said, but when you heard Changkyuns voice you almost jumped out of your own skin.

“I don’t have your clothes,” he said and you heard shuffling before he disappeared again and you thanked all the seven seas that your shower glass was dimmed due to the warm water. The moment the door closed you let out the breath you were holding in. Of course this would happen with your luck.

You slipped into your heels before walking down hesitantly, still ashamed of what happened back in the room. When you walked into the dining hall you saw an unfamiliar girl sitting next to Changkyun while pinching his cheeks.

“You’re so skinny gosh, what are you guys feeding my poor baby brother?” She said playfully and you remembered Mirae telling you he has a sister, but she lives in the states due to work which meant she was rarely even here. Her eyes landed on you and she smiled.

“Oh hey, aren’t you Mirae’s sister y/n?” She asked and you nodded slowly. “Uhm, yeah that’s me.” Why was she mentioning her name?

Her next words felt like a slap into your face. “Where is Mirae though?” She asked, still smiling and everyone fell silent. You didn’t dare to move looking away to Changkyun, but he clenched his jaw. Chanwoo slapped her arm and she frowned.

“I’m sorry y/n, she just arrived and we didn’t had the chance to tell her.” He explained and nodded to the seat next to Changkyun with a smile.

“Join us.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” She asked looking at her parents, but Chanwoo silently gave her a sign that he would explain everything once they were alone.

To say the least – the breakfast was awkward. Changkyun didn’t even finish his food before he excused himself for work and honestly you didn’t feel like eating at all, so you just had some fruit to not completely come off as rude.

The moment you walked upstairs you let out a sigh, happy that you had the most awkward moment behind you, but when you heard your name you looked up.

“I’m sorry for what I said in the dining hall. I didn’t know all of this happened, I was just assuming you were here to visit Mirae.” Kyuhyun's sister carefully took a step closer. “It was so insensitive of me to speak without thinking,” she scoffed and you shook your head.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. You didn’t know, since you just arrived today. It’s fine,” you smiled at her and she took a deep breath. “Okay good, I was so scared that you might be upset.” She laughed. “Oh and I’m Gyuri.”

How weird is it that you were just now finding out your husband's sister's name. Mirae never really spoke much about her or the family at all. She was mainly focused on Changkyun, but here and there said something about his family. You knew his family too, exchanging a couple of words on galas and events, but more than the basics you weren’t that informed about them. Especially Changkyun, he was always a mystery to you, with his secretive persona. You were always curious on how Changkyun was with Mirae, since he didn’t seem to be a romantic and affectionate person, but she didn’t really give you any details.

After Gyuri offered you to always talk to her when you needed something, you thanked her and headed back to your room. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, but before you had the chance to drown in your thoughts your phone on the dresser started ringing, showing up your fathers contact.

“Hey dad,” you said and for the first time after your wedding you smiled that genuine.

“Oh wow someone is extra happy,” he chuckled at the other side of the phone.

“I missed you dad.”

“I missed you too y/n,” he said and you could hear the car engine in the back.

“Are you going somewhere?” You asked leaned against the dresser. “Oh yeah I’m on the way to a meeting, so I thought I’ll just quickly have a talk with you.” He explained and you nodded. “I see, but don’t overwork,” you reminded him and he chuckled.

“Yeah yeah don’t worry. How is Changkyun?”

Your smile faded as you remembered everything that happened yesterday. “He is good,” you said, but he sighed. “That’s not what I mean, I’m going to see him in that meeting anyways. How is Changkyung treating you y/n?” He asked more specifically and you bit down on your lower lip. “Don’t worry dad he is good to me.”

Yeah you’re lying, but things will change and then it won’t be a lie...right?

> chasing love masterlist <

[frillyfacefins]

Good Old-Fashioned Sodomy (Lucifer/Paimon)

Fandom: Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel Rating: Explicit Pairing: Lucifer/Paimon Tags: Historical Setting, Demonic Deal Making, Paimon gets to top (as a treat), human disguises, I researched Edinburgh in 1890 way too much for what little details there are in this fic..., headcanon heavy, seriously I have so much lore for this ship, Lilith mention, Polyamory, Only implied though, Paimon „more obedient to Lucifer than the other Kings are“ Goetia Word Count: 4118

Also on AO3

Summary:

Edinburgh, 1890. Paimon successfully closes a deal he has been working on for weeks. It's a good thing Lucifer has never been stingy with his rewards...

The medium let out a deep sigh and, with her eyes still closed and her head swinging from side to side, she said: „We thank the spirits who have honored us with their presence and bestowed us with their wisdom.“ Another deep sigh, then her eyelids fluttered open. Paimon let go of the hands of the people beside him, though not before he gently squeezed the one of the young man to his right.

The medium looked at her guests with a weak smile. The dim candlelight made her look tired, and the strands of hair that had come loose from her pompadour aided that effect. She really looked as if her soul had travelled to the spirit realm and she had returned triumphant, but only after a hard battle.

She lit the gas lamp on the table as the guests started to stand up. One of the women, a regular at this ‚medium‘s seances, immediately monopolized her attention, and Paimon used the general breaking up of the party to turn to his target.

„Now, how did you like your first seance, my boy?“ he asked, though he could guess the answer by the wide-eyed, confused look on his face. He wondered if the young artist would have just such an expression after a good fuck as well.

„I‘m… I don‘t even know… You know that I have been a believer, but this?“ He was rather pale, and Paimon put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

„Madame Tenebre‘s abilities really are impressive,“ Paimon said, and he actually meant it - this woman was maybe the best close-up magician working in Edinburgh at the moment. At first he had assumed that a demonic deal was behind her success, but no, ‚Madame Tenebre‘ (or rather, Mollie McFaddon) really was such a talented trickster that she didn‘t even need to consort with Paimon‘s colleagues.

Of course she still was going to Hell as soon as she died. But he respected a confidence woman, and he was sure she‘d do quite well in Pentagram City once her time had come.

His little friend, however, would likely be headed for Heaven if Paimon wasn‘t successful. He‘d been working him for a while - befriending him at his club, giving him the admiration and attention he needed for his insecurity to turn to pride. He had taken a shape he knew would be irresistible to this young man - his mother‘s eyes, his father‘s chin, the nose of the tutor he had been dreaming of when he‘d had his first youthful effusions at the tender age of twelve. He had made himself just a few years older than his mark, just the same height but more slender, more elegant, and if the boy‘s furtive glances and lingering handshakes were anything to go by, his guise was proving to be very effective.

The young artist‘s eyes were unfocused now, still trying to process what had happened. Paimon squeezed his shoulder and then gently stirred him out of the velvet-stuffed dimness of the salon, through the cramped hallway and into the stairwell of the tenement building. He pulled out his cigarette case and offered his ‚friend‘ one of them.

The smoking had also been something Paimon had inspired in his mark. He hadn‘t quite managed to get him into opium, but alcohol and tobacco should be enough to make his soul join them as soon as possible.

Speaking of which…

„Let‘s head to the club, have a drink,“ Paimon said, smiling at him. „You look quite pale, my dear fellow.“

The young man smiled back. „Yes, that sounds marvellous.“

-

Paimon had gotten three finger-widths of top-shelf whisky into his little friend when he felt it was time for his next move. The boy had been prattling on about the seance ever since he‘d emptied his first glass, and he was talking himself into a state of wonder and excitement about the occult that gave Paimon the perfect opening.

„You know,“ he began, his body tilting to one side as if he‘d also had far too much to drink (Earth alcohol was weak as water to him, but the taste was quite nice, so he‘d matched his mark sip for sip). „I did not want to tell you this, my friend, for fear you wouldn‘t believe me… But now that you have seen the marvels of the spirit world, I am thinking that I can trust you with my secret.“ He leaned forward, and so did the young artist, his eyes shining with drunken curiosity. „I have, myself, made contact with a mysterious power of otherworldly origin… With its help I have created sculptures that will make my name immortal. Would you like to see them?“

-

The sculptures he had conjured in his spacious apartment were of sublime quality. They depicted beautiful men and women with faces so lifelike despite their bronze and marble skin that they might have started to speak at any moment, or rather, to scream - for Paimon had taken advantage of the newer trends in the world of art and had made them just infernal enough to become fascinating. The little men and women were screaming in agony or ecstasy, their bodies haphazardly clothed in flowing robes in the greek-style that left their most enticing qualities bare. He had added symbols for an added spark - snakes and apples and tiny, hidden details that would turn a man‘s heart towards sin without his mind ever understanding it.

His mark was enraptured by the sculptures. It took him nearly an hour to go through every one, exclaiming over their beauty, their genius, their vision. By the end of it, he was as drunk with admiration as he was with whisky.

„Treasures beyond belief,“ he finally said as he sank onto a chaise longue and Paimon pushed another glass of golden scotch into his hand. „I can hardly believe my eyes, and yet…“

He looked longingly over to one of the sculptures, the one for which Paimon had used Lilith as an inspiration. She was the only one of his sculptures with a smile on her face, but it was a demonic smile, too broad and too sharp, her eyes only suggestions, her hair flowing into her gown and finally into a nest of snakes pooling by her feet.

He took a long drink from his glass, his eyes still transfixed by the sculpture. His next words were so soft that Paimon might not have heard them if he had been human.

„If I could paint like you can sculpt… I would change the world…“

There it was. Paimon could hardly suppress a grin - he had him. He was so drunk and so overwhelmed by all he had seen today that he didn‘t even think to ask why Paimon wasn‘t showing these sculptures publicly. He had seen what was possible, and he was starting to think - ‚why not for me?‘

Paimon swirled his own whisky for a few moments before he said. „You know… I could show you how I did it. How I harnessed this spiritual power.“

That made the young artist drop his glass, staining his trousers and the carpet. He dropped to his knees in front of Paimon, looking up at him with a need in his eyes that made the demon‘s whole body tingle.

„Please! Oh please, tell me your secret! I would give anything, if I could just… If I was just…“

He didn‘t have words for his desires, so he just shook his head and kept looking at him beseechingly.

Paimon smiled and leaned forward to pet the boy‘s head. What a prize for Hell… He let his hand run down his cheek and lifted his chin.

„You do not have to give anything, not during your lifetime,“ he said. „But it isn’t free.“ The boy was so suggestive by now that he just pressed closer, rubbed his cheek against Paimon‘s hand.

„What will it take, then? To make paintings that will change the world,“ he whispered.

Paimon leaned down until their noses nearly touched. Their breath mingled, scotch and cigarettes and unending hope.

„You must give what all of the greatest have given. You must give your soul to your art… For your art.“

Finally the boy hesitated. There was something about those words - something about the dark truth Paimon had revealed - that made him baulk.

Paimon grasped his chin tighter. „You could be as brilliant as Courbet, as rich as Meissonier, as world-renowned as Matejko. Your art could change everything. You could be a Titian, a Caravaggio of the British Empire…“ The velvet sweetness of his voice would have rivalled Lucifer‘s in Eden. And it worked like a charm. The boy relaxed, his eyes glazed over, and his lips parted in a look so precious it made Paimon want to ravage him.

But no. This was strictly business.

He gently ran his fingertips over the boy‘s cheek. „Is that not what you want, my dear?“

„I want it,“ the young artist rasped. „I want it desperately.“

Paimon smiled again, and this time he allowed just a shimmer of his true nature to shine through - just a darker hue to his eyes, just a certain sharpness to his teeth. He let go of his chin, but did not retract his hand. Instead, he made a pallet knife appear in his palm, the blade glinting in the light, the mahogany handle inlaid with the golden pattern of a crown.

He didn‘t need a physical object to close the deal. A kiss or a few drops of blood would have been sufficient, and most demons still kept to those traditional means. But a physical object could be lost, could be stolen, could lead to wrath and envy and paranoia.

It would make his soul so much sweeter, so much more ready for Hell. And the deal would be closed once the artist took the knife - whatever happened to it afterwards, their contract would be sealed for eternity.

The boy reached out. He hesitated again, but this time Paimon did not have to coax him.

His fingers closed around the knife‘s handle.

-

The opium dens of Edinburgh always reminded Paimon of Belphegor‘s palace. They weren‘t as beautifully appointed, of course, but the scent was the same: A powdery floral fragrance underlaid with the warm scent of sleeping bodies and the spice of cloves. He made his way through the balmy humidity of the parlours and into the backroom where Lucifer was waiting for him.

Even in a human disguise, his king was beautiful as a sunset. His hair was darker, the color of aged bronze, and his usually paper-white skin had the natural pallor of the humans living in this cloud-plagued city. His eyes were grey, his pupils round, and only the points of his canines remained of his usually sharp-toothed smile.

„There you are, Paimon,“ Lucifer said as he stood up from the couch where he had been nursing a snake-shaped porcelain pipe. He smiled at him, his eyes drinking in Paimon‘s form with obvious approval. „You have really outdone yourself with this disguise, my boy,“ he purred as he stopped just inches in front of him. His fingers ran along the chain of his pocket watch, dipping between the buttons of his waistcoat. „You have been successful, then?“

„You know that I would not disappoint you,“ Paimon said. His king was only inches shorter than him, in this shape, and the fact that he could feel his breath against his lips was driving him to distraction.

A happy sigh left Lucifer‘s lips and touched Paimon‘s in an opium-scented caress. „Wonderful work, Paimon. His soul will be a lovely addition to Pentagram City… Maybe I will take him into my own house, there are several projects I have planned that would benefit from an artist with modern sensibilities.“

Paimon could practically see the plans arranging themselves behind his King‘s eyes. He didn‘t move - Lucifer‘s fingers were still hooked into the placket of his waistcoat, after all.

It only took Lucifer a few moments to return to the present. He smiled at Paimon, slowly blinking his eyes like a satisfied tomcat. His fingers moved to slowly push the button nearest to them through its eyelet.

„Now, my dearest, my most perfect servant… However should I reward you for such impeccable work?“

A low growl just tinged with despair rumbled from Paimon‘s throat. When was the last time they had fucked in the human world, in human disguises? It had to be centuries ago by now… It wasn‘t as if having sex as humans was better than it was in hell - but it was different. More cumbersome, for one. They could use magic instead of oil and change their flesh just enough to give them their usual stamina, but if they were to do that, they could just as well open a portal and return to Lucifer‘s palace.

No, as inconvenient as it might be, Paimon wanted Lucifer like this, with his sharp edges buffed and his skin smelling of human sweat and opium instead of brimstone. The way his mark had been kneeling before him, the way his lips had parted in wonder, had made something roil inside of him, and he wanted to gift this dark desire to his beloved King.

„If you wish to reward me, my most beloved,“ he whispered, „let me have you right here, right now.“

Lucifer‘s eyes sparked with hellish intent, and his smile spread into a grin. His fingers tightened around the placket of his waistcoat and pulled him even closer. „As you wish, my darling… You have certainly earned your reward…“

Lucifer tasted different, on Earth. There was none of that tooth-rotting sweetness that Paimon was so addicted to, only the taste of saliva, opium, and the tiniest hint of wine. It was nice, though, to be in a completely compatible shape to him. It had been a while since he‘d been with Lucifer while wearing an even vaguely human-shaped body; he usually preferred the shape of a bird or a lion when he was in Hell. Their mouths fit together so well like this, and even though their tongues were shorter and less dexterous, there was something pleasantly base about the way they slid against each other.

Taking off human clothes by hand was also rather inconvenient when you weren‘t using magic, but since Lucifer kept unbuttoning his waistcoat manually, he resigned himself to undoing his king‘s cravat with his own hands as well. It did mean that he got to touch him more, though, which made up for the additional work it took to get him naked.

Lucifer was better at this than he was. He had Paimon‘s jacket, waistcoat, cravat and cuffs off before Paimon could even get all of the buttons of Lucifer‘s waistcoat open.

He pulled back with a little growl and crowded Lucifer towards the sofa. „I guess humans really want to make fucking as difficult as possible with these contraptions, huh?“ he asked, slightly annoyed.

His king only chuckled. „You‘re always so impatient, my friend…“ he purred. „Here, let me take this…“

He pulled away from Paimon‘s hands and sat down on the sofa, his legs spread, one of his arms draped over the back rest. Paimon had no idea how he did it, but he opened the entire placket of his waistcoat with only one hand, and quickly as well. He made quick work of his cuffs as well, carelessly throwing the golden, apple-shaped links to the floor, where they were soon joined by the waistcoat and his shoes.

Paimon had toed off his shoes and freed his shirt tails from his trousers at that point, but the sight of his King in nothing but a gleaming white shirt and unfashionably, sinfully tight breeches proved to be too much for him. He was on the couch in a heartbeat, pushing Lucifer down and pressing ardent kisses along the line of his jaw, his neck, his collarbones. He had gotten so excited that he tugged at the collar of his shirt with too much strength and ripped the first three buttons right off. He was too caught up by the flames of his own desires to really notice, and given Lucifer‘s low chuckle, his King didn‘t seem to care, so he just kept kissing down his chest, fumbling to get rid of the rest of the buttons, ripping at least two more before he had finally kissed his way down to his stomach.

Compared to the buttons, the buckle of his belt was solid and easy to open. But of course there were more buttons holding the placket of his trousers closed.

Paimon didn‘t bother with those; he just pulled down Lucifer‘s trousers and underpants off with one fast motion.

„So impati-aah…“ Lucifer‘s smiling admonishment melted into a happy moan as Paimon immediately swallowed down his half-hard cock. The taste of sweat and musk was nearly identical to how Lucifer tasted in hell, a little more bitter, maybe. His human form seemed more sensitive, though. He could feel Lucifer‘s thighs tremble, and a clawless hand was pulling on his hair, making him swallow every inch of his King. His cock had the perfect size for Paimon‘s human throat, just long enough to fill him, just thick enough to leave him wanting more.

Paimon somehow managed to get rid of his own shirt, and he gave his own bottom garments the same treatment he‘d given Lucifer‘s. He had to pull away from his King‘s cock to free his legs completely, but he was delighted when he saw that Lucifer used the moment of respite to hook one of his legs over the back of the sofa, spreading himself perfectly open for Paimon.

He sat back down between Lucifer‘s legs, but he didn‘t do much more than set one hand on his thigh and let his eyes rove over his body. In his usual shape, Lucifer‘s body was like smooth, perfect alabaster, unmarred by anything but two large scars on his back. This disguise, though, was perfectly human. The color of his skin was a variety of shades of pink and light beige, his knees visibly darker than the inside of his thighs, his cock and balls a deep, brownish pink, his chest and face flushed rosy red. There were freckles all over his body, and hair - wiry on his legs, a fine dusting on his lower arms, a nest of curls between his legs…

No Man made by their Father could possibly be more beautiful.

Lucifer had tilted his head slightly, his eyes wandering over Paimon‘s body. There was no rush; the opium he had been smoking might have been Earth-grade, but with his body being made of human flesh, that ought to be enough to make it soft and pliant, even though it wouldn‘t affect his mind. So Paimon could look his fill, could feast on the anticipation of feeling that warm body below him, surrounding him. But there was another issue with human bodies - and a quick look around the room told him that he would have to use a little magic for this, after all.

A happy sigh oozed from Lucifer‘s lips when he saw the little bottle Paimon conjured into his hand and the oil he was pouring into his hand. „There really is something about good old-fashioned sodomy…“ he murmured as he reached for his right leg, which had until now been lazily hanging off the couch. He grasped his thigh below his knee and pulled it towards his body, making it easy for Paimon to rub over the husky, puckered muscle of his hole with a slicked middle finger. That was another thing about male human bodies - if you went with the most common configuration, you had to not only work your way through cumbersome clothing, but also through a human body‘s natural resistance. He figured this was still a problem for most Sinners in hell, and probably for some hell-born demons, but he‘d never had any interest in anybody who was not Fallen, so he really neither knew nor cared.

But when it was Lucifer whose ass he was slowly coaxing into accepting his fingers, even this aspect of human sexuality was exhilarating. He had to apply more oil to his fingers to make two of them move smoothly in and out of Lucifer‘s body, but he was rewarded for the trouble by a series of low, pleased gasps.

He slicked a third finger for good measure, just to make sure that his King wouldn‘t regret allowing him the honor of fucking him. He didn‘t target his prostate, though - Lucifer‘s cock was already dripping on his abdomen, and his toes, still in their black socks, were curling with pleasure. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows tense. Human bodies couldn‘t withstand pleasure like demonic ones could, and especially not when they were likely saturated with enough opium to buy a small trading fleet.

„So fucking gorgeous,“ Paimon muttered as he finally pulled his fingers out. Lucifer opened his eyes and grinned as he watched Paimon slick up his cock with even more oil.

„Took you long enough,“ he said on a long exhale, hiking his legs up a little farther. His well-stretched, glistening hole was winking at Paimon, teasing him with just a glimpse of its red, velvety inside.

Paimon shifted on his knees until he was kneeling right behind Lucifer. He grasped his legs below his knees, freeing up Lucifer‘s hand to move between them and guide Paimon‘s cock to its destination.

It was so easy to follow Lucifer‘s guidance, more natural to him than breathing could ever be. His body bent to his King‘s will, even in this position, and when he finally pushed into him, the tight, slick heat that enveloped him made his body thrum with a kind of pleasure he could only describe as blasphemous in its divinity.

Lucifer kept his eyes on Paimon‘s as they came farther together, holding his gaze like he would a leash. Paimon couldn‘t look away, couldn‘t close his eyes even as the sensations stirring his flesh demanded that he gave himself completely over to his lust. Lucifer looked at him with so much pride, with such adoration that the tight feeling of his body around Paimon‘s cock became a secondary source of his pleasure, something he could take or leave, and yet still such a proof of his King‘s affection…

They both lasted longer than Paimon would have expected, but then again, their lovemaking was slow and languid as rolling waves breaking on a sandy shore. By the time both of them had reached their climax, their bodies were so slick with sweat that Paimon nearly lost his grip on Lucifer‘s legs. He leaned forward to press a desperately tender kiss to his King‘s lips, a last shudder running through his body when Lucifer raked his fingers through Paimon‘s damp hair and whispered: „Well done, darling,“ against his mouth.

They lay together for a few minutes, relishing in the last waves of pleasure and the sticky remains of their tryst. Usually, Paimon was fussier about bodily fluids than Lucifer, but even with sweat drying on their skin and cum sticking their bellies together, he just really couldn‘t be bothered with being bothered right now.

Eventually, though, he began to feel cold where he wasn‘t touching Lucifer. His King must have noticed somehow, because he finally kissed his lips a last time and said: „Let‘s go back home. I want to take you and Lil out to dinner, darling.“

Paimon sat up with a sigh and stretched his body. He’d been human for too long, judging by the aches in his joints and muscles.

“Also, paperwork,” he sighed. He was just about to get up and change back into his bird shape when he remembered something.

“Oh, by the way…” He opened a very small portal in space and pulled out the little bronze statue he’d made of Lilith. “I’m wondering if I should give this to Her Majesty… It has come out rather well, really.”

Lucifer’s disguise was already bleeding, his skin and hair turning lighter so slowly that one watching him might have missed it. He stood up and regarded the statue for a moment before he took it out of Paimon’s hands and turned it this way and that.

Finally, he grinned - his mouth now as broad and as sharp-toothed as that of the statue.

“I keep forgetting how interesting your imagination can be, darling. I believe Lil will like this.” He lifted the statue to his nose and took a deep inhale. “Hmm… Yes, I believe she will like this indeed.”

[astairwaytobooks]

The Scorpio Races Festival 2022

Week Two: BEACH TRAINING

Reading Challenges: Chapter 17 - Chapter 28

“I think I see someone standing up at the top of the cliffs, watching us, but when I look again, there’s no one.” Who do you think was watching Puck train Dove?

I’ve always thought this was Sean, restless, unable to sleep any longer and on a walk to clear his head. Finding himself at the cliffs looking down at the beach and seeing that girl with her island pony on his beach again. He probably felt simultaneously annoyed and intrigued and couldn’t help but stay and watch. It never even occurred to me that it might have been someone else, but now that you’ve brought it to my attention, I realise it is never explicitly stated to be Sean.

Do you have any favorite scenes or quotes from this section?

My favourite scene in this section is Sean training Fundemental. Fundemental is such a good horse, just doing his best to please Sean and Sean looks at and thinks about him with such affection. Juxtaposed with Mutt’s indifference and even use of Fundemental for his own goals, this makes for an interesting scene. Mutt’s impotent rage costs poor Fundemental his life. I don’t actually fully blame Mutt for this. I think Benjamin Malvern is the more guilty party, as it might be easy to forget but Mutt is technically just still a kid, desperately trying to get his father‘s attention. But Benjamin Malvern only has eyes for Sean, imaging him his successor (even though Sean doesn’t even want that, but that is beside the point here).

What conflicts are the characters going up against? What seems to drive them at this point in the story?

Puck wants two things at this point in the story: For Gabe to stay and to improve their financial situation. Incidentally the (temporary) solution to both these problems appears to be taking part in the races. This does go against Puck’s moral code however, as she doesn’t want to have anything to do with the capaill uisce who murdered her parents. She has largely overcome this issue by the end of this section, by deciding to ride on Dove and learning to tolerate the water horses.

Sean just wants Corr (and a roof over his head and reins in his hands and the sand beneath him, but mainly just Corr). His wants are harder to fulfil as he needs two things to get Corr; He needs enough money to buy him and then he needs to somehow convince Malvern to sell Corr. Getting Malvern to sell such a profitable horse seems, at this point in the story, very unlikely. So in the mean time Sean just saves as much as he can and riding in the races helps him accomplish this goal and gives him the opportunity to spend time with Corr.

Having two characters who both basically need to win the race, but knowing only one of them can win by definition, makes for great narrative tension.

Talk a little about the world-building so far. How does Thisby’s geography and traditions help or hinder the characters?

Talking about Thisby like it is only a place seems insufficient. Thisby is a character in itself in this story. A character with stormy moods, sometimes warm and caring with the scent of November cakes and the warm wild light of a campfire and sometimes cold and indifferent with dark clouds pouring out cold rain over a beach with the sea receding, leaving a bloody corpse on the sand. Thisby feels alive. Somewhere it is mentioned how Puck and Sean feel like the island is part of them (hence why they have no interest in going to the mainland) and maybe Thisby knows which people belong on the island and helps them achieve their goals with a little bit of island magic; the wind at their back, good solid sand to gallop on and maybe helping push people that need each other together.

In a more literal sense the geography of Thisby allows Puck to circumvent the rules a bit and train on the cliffs instead of on the beach between the capaill uisce. While the traditions hinder her, as being a girl, she has to fight the traditions to enter the races and again when she decides to ride a non-traditional horse. Sean on the other hand has all of tradition behind him in this regard, with his father also having been a rider and him being a boy.

Finally I think “the mainland” is an interesting concept, it functions a bit as a cautionary tale for our main characters. It is this place if people go there, they DON’T COME BACK. But we know tourists visit Thisby every year, the islanders get mail from the mainland, which shows that travelling to and from Thisby is totally possible, but apparently not something that really happens. This helps us understand why Puck reacts the way she does to the news of Gabe leaving for the mainland. Gabe is leaving them to fend for themselves and maybe only supporting them with some occasional money send from his job on the mainland. But the presumption is he is never coming back, which would make it essentially like he is dead, especially to young people like Puck and Finn. At the same time I totally get Gabe wanting to escape and go live his own life. He didn’t ask to have to take care of his younger siblings. The scorpio races is full of tragic tales if you think about it.