#maybe I'll think about them more who knows

[misayani]

Okay, this is a bit of an odd request, but could you write a threesome between No-el, Se-Mi, and the Fem!reader? Like both No-el and Se-Mi are ganging up on the reader to fuck hard enough for her to see stars.

I don't really have a plot in mind. Maybe another contestant was flirting with the reader and they both get jealous so they corner her in the bathrooms? And the reader is more than willing to fuck them too.

Thank you so much!

NOBODY KNOWS — NO-EUL (GUARD 011) & SE-MI (PLAYER 380) 

◜ pairing ... no-eul / guard 011 & se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜you knew you were fucked, as you managed to get two women jealous over you.

𔗨 author's note — came ten times writing this so i apologize if i took so long /j. lets just pretend mi-na's still alive and happy in this fic <33 (i needed this no-eul fic as much as you guys do because theres little to no fics about her and im so sad and I JUST NEED HER.) [lowercase intended]

♡ upcoming fic — se-mi + comfort 

warning: smut [threesome, fingering, oral] 

"ugh, get off meeee!" mi-na tries to wiggle you off as you cling tighter onto her arm. right now was your second game, and they had asked everyone to team up into five— your team included you and mi-na, thanos, nam-su, and se-mi who had been acting distant ever since you guys sat down waiting for your team's turn.

you were sat in between mi-na and se-mi, the latter who had been sneaking glances to the both of you without you noticing. 

"i'm scared, what if i mess up?" you unconfidently mutter to your bestfriend, who looked at you with an expression that read 'are you kidding me?'

"babe, i've seen you play gonggi ever since we were kids. and there was not a single time where you missed catching. you won't mess it up." mi-na said, grabbing your hand to reassure you.

"you've known each other since kids?" se-mi spoke up beside you, making you both turn your heads to her. your lips form into a polite smile, she finally spoke. 

"yes, we were neighbours but she actually used to bully me—" mi-na cuts you off as she rolls her eyes, "yah! don't just go and tell some nobody shit about us." she nudges you as se-mi scoffs.

"the fuck you mean nobody? if it weren't for me, she wouldn't have made it past first game." your smile drops as se-mi speaks, well it was true— if it weren't for her catching you during 'green light red light', you would've been dead by now.

"you bitch—!" mi-na started but you immediately jumped in, "it's fine. not a big deal." you shoot your bestfriend a look to calm her down. please, not now.

mi-na flips her hair and crosses her arms against her chest, turning her attention to the purple-haired man beside her, who called himself thanos. he notices her and smiles, starting a conversation with her.

you turn to look at se-mi and give her an apologetic smile, "i'm sorry about her. she acts the same for everyone, if that makes you feel better." se-mi rolls her eyes, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek as she darts her eyes back to the contestants currently playing. 

you just pressed your lips together in a thin line at her lack of response before you turned your head back to also watch as you fiddled with your fingers anxiously.

                            ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

 "can't it be our turn already? my ass is starting to hurt from sitting." you hear mi-na complain under her breath. you roll your eyes playfully as thanos smirks, "don't you worry babe, i'll massage it for you later." nam-su—you think that's his real name. thanos calls him nam-gyu, despite nam-su correcting him many times already until he got tired and just let it be— looks at the purple-haired guy weirdly, you couldn't blame him.

"get a fucking room"

finally, the current team playing made it to the finish line. all of you stood up, cheering the group that won. you turned to mi-na the same time she does and you both crash into a hug as if your own team had won. 

beside you, was se-mi staring at the both of you, jaw clenched and hands formed into fists. she sat back down as mi-na and you finally calm down, smiles still plastered onto your faces. the both of you sit back down and you tilt your head at mi-na, whose eyebrows are furrowed as her gaze was locked at something behind you. you follow her gaze, simply seeing a triangle masked guard. 

you look back to mi-na before you spoke, "what's wrong?" you see her blink as she snaps out of it, looking to you instead, "nothing. just felt like that guard behind us was staring."

you laugh, "you're overanalyzing everyone. what? gonna fight that guard too?" she rolls her eyes at you as she shakes her head, sighing. "whatever."

moments later, it was finally your team's turn. what mi-na said was right— you didn't mess up during playing gonggi. in fact, the each of you managed to play all the mini games smoothly and went back to the large room without any scratches.

                            ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

it was finally bedtime, after doing the votings. you and mi-na had voted for go home, while the other three in your group voted for the opposite. you toss and turn in your bed, unable to sleep. many thoughts are racing inside your mind and you would literally kill just for them to give you a break.

suddenly, your mind wanders off, and a girl with the bold personality comes to mind. se-mi. just the thought of her makes you squirm. you had noticed the way she looked at you, the way she touched you everytime she had a chance to. 

heat rushed to your core. really? right now? you shift, removing the pillow supporting your head and placing it in between your legs instead. it's not enough, you thought. with a sigh, you hesitated before slipping yourself out of bed and drag your feet towards the door on the left side of the room.

you knock on the door softly, patiently waiting for the masked men to answer. seconds later, the hinged cover on the window swings open, revealing a triangle masked guard.

"restroom. please." you speak, before adding "my stomach really hurts." you see the guard pause for a while, before shutting the hinged cover and you sigh in defeat, preparing to walk back to bed. the door opens and you look up, the triangle masked guard standing on the side, making way for you.

"i need to go too." you flinch as you hear someone speak behind you. glancing to your back, your cheeks heat up as you see the girl you had just been fantasizing about earlier. se-mi glanced back, looking directly into your eyes. 

you snapped your head back, facing forward. with an awkward cough, you walk forward, se-mi following behind as the triangle masked guard guides you both towards the restroom.

the guard opens the door for the both of you as soon as you reach the restroom. se-mi walks past you, going inside first before you walked in next. 

the door shuts behind you just before you hear one of the bathroom stall's door slam shut. you just stand there for a moment, why was i here again? right. to get yourself off.

you felt disgust towards yourself as you made your way to the sink, turning on the faucet. you start to wash your hands as you think: but how the fuck am i supposed to do that when the woman you were thinking about is also inside this restroom and wouldn't that be so disgusting to think of someone like that an— your thoughts were cut off as you look back up to the mirror in front of you, startling as you see se-mi just meters away behind you. 

you turned the faucet off before you turned around, facing her. "you scared me." you said quietly, your chest rising up and down. she snickers before she spoke up, "scared you, huh? don't tell me you don't like me being in the same room as you, alone."

she clicks her tongue, "you think i haven't been noticing your little stares?" oh so she felt it too, the thing between us. "you're probably having dirty thoughts right now for all i know." her lips form into a smug smirk, making your knees feel like jelly.

your lips part and the restroom door suddenly swings open, making you both snap your heads to look. your eyes widen in fear as you see a triangle masked guard walk inside, locking the door behind. your head turns to look at se-mi, who didn't look as scared at all. what the fuck? you thought.

your heart started to hammer in your chest. you hear rustling as you look back to the guard. he— or she— started taking the mask off, revealing piercing eyes, before taking off the balaclava next. it revealed a woman. a rather hot woman, she had short black hair and a scar on her right cheek that was still reddish.

"s-semi..?" your voice came out shaky, as you reached for the girl beside you. you were so confused and scared, not knowing what this guard's deal was. she glanced at you, walking in front in a protective manner, before speaking to the woman you didn't know the intentions of. 

"why the hell are you here?" she bravely starts, "don't you guys have your own restrooms?" se-mi huffs at the woman. you admired se-mi for her courage to talk confidently but at the same time you're scared shitless for her. 

the woman sighs, "why the hell—? fuck—" she starts, before adding: "to join in on whatever the hell you two are doing."

"to join in on—? ah." se-mi pauses as if she read the woman's mind. "i see. you want her?" se-mi chucks her head sideways at you, as the woman glances at your confused state— eyebrows furrowed and eyes doe. you looked like a puppy, which made her want to ruin you even more. 

"wha-what?" you stuttered, fiddling with your fingers. "what do you mean? what do you mean you want me? how?" you hear se-mi chuckle as the woman in front of you crosses her arms. want me? want to kill me?? or like, sex? hopefully sex. different thoughts raced to your mind. 

"don't act dumb now sweetheart. you know exactly what i mean by it." se-mi cooes at you mockingly. 

"well.. what do you say? are you up for it..?" the woman speaks up again with her raspy voice. you bit your lip, as they both stare at you in anticipation. fuck it.

you shyly nodded as you look down at your fingers. "words." your head snaps up to look at the woman once again before saying, "fine— yes.. i'm down." 

after hearing your confirmation, the woman starts to unzip her red jumpsuit, making your legs weak. se-mi walks closer to you, "take your jacket off, baby." she softly says. you comply, before se-mi speaks up once again "shouldn't have been so close to your 'bestfriend' in front of me" 

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, dropping your jacket onto the floor. "oh. i guess we're both in here for the same reason, then." the woman speaks, your cheeks heat up as you saw her figure— she had the jumpsuit unzipped down to her waist, revealing a sports bra underneath.

se-mi snickers as she pushes your shoulder, making you fall down to your butt. "you saw that too?"

"was observing them from afar." oh.

"huh? bestfriend? you mean mi-na?" se-mi hums as she squats down to your level.

"but- but we're just friends?" you lock eyes with se-mi as the other woman walks just behind you.

"we're just friends," se-mi mocks you, "bullshit." 

the woman's also bent down to your level now and you can feel her hot breath against the back of your neck. "shirt, off." she whispers. 

you hesitantly grap the end of your shirt, you were shy to show them your body, it'll make you feel too exposed and pathetic.

the woman behind you clicks her tongue, before she takes your shirt off herself impatiently. "hesitant now? you weren't as hesitant earlier when you kept flirting with your friend." 

"won't be surprised at all if the both of you had sex before." semi continues, you were now left in your bra and tracksuit pants. "slut." 

your breath hitches as the woman behind you started kissing the side of your neck softly, while her gloved hands traveled to your covered breasts and started caressing them over the cloth. "no-eul. my name's no-eul." she whispers in between  leaving kisses on your neck.

you whimper, your hands going towards your pants to slide it down your legs. se-mi helps you and she throws it aside, exposing your soaked underwear. "you look so pretty like this. so wet for us." se-mi purrs as she presses the pads of her fingertips to your clothed cunt.

the woman— no-eul— unclasped your bra and you wiggle it off you as the cold air made your nipples hard. no-eul takes off her gloves and immediately brings them back to your boobs to grope them.

you let out a soft moan, head tipping back to kiss no-eul. she complies, taking your soft lips onto her chapped ones. the both of you make out as se-mi kept herself busy sliding down your underwear. you lifted your hips up slightly to make it easier for her, and once they were finally off, she spreads your legs as her breath hitches.

you pull away from the kiss and rest your head on no-euls shoulder while she continued to touch your chest. semi leans down and starts to leave kisses on your thighs, sometimes sucking them. 

your head shoots up to look at se-mi. "se-mi please" you plead, "please what?" she murmurs against your inner thigh. 

"please, eat me out. please."

"yeah? is that the same way you beg mi-na?" she taunts, "no, no— we don't fuck i swear! we're just friends." you cry out, your hips bucking up, desperate for any contact. 

you tilt your head back to no-eul's shoulder once again, pouting and whining, "no-eul.." the woman chuckled at you and shook her head, "you have to beg, baby." 

you look at se-mi as your lower lips tremble. you didn't even care at this point on, "please se-mi, i— i promise we're both just friends. really- i— i swear she's straight. just please, i need you." 

"give the poor girl what she wants, don't be so mean." you were grateful that no-eul spoke up, as it finally led to se-mi giving in. 

your back arches as your head falls down to no-eul's left shoulder. se-mi latched her lips onto your aching clit, swirling it with her tongue. soft gasps escape your mouth—that's very close to no-eul's ear— making her hear everything loud and clear.

"mnnnh— so good.." no-eul herself was getting wetter and wetter at your noises: soft moans and the lewd sound your wet cunt is making while se-mi hungrily makes out with it.

"fuck, baby.." you swear you just heard a low moan from no-eul, but maybe you're just tripping, considering your mind is spinning around right now out of pleasure. 

you reach for no-eul's hand, bringing it to your mouth before you started to suck on her ring and middle finger. "shit," no-eul mutters, her fingers softly thrusting in and out your mouth, "don't do this to me."

se-mi hums against your cunt, her tongue teasing your entrance before she pushes it in. many things are happening too fast right now, you could feel your orgasm growing. 

no-eul pulls her fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them. she leans down to kiss you, making your moans muffled. your hand travels towards se-mi's hair as you push her head deeper. you couldn't think of anything that's better than this: no-eul's tongue exploring your mouth while se-mi's explores your cunt. 

"i'm going— to cum—" you say in between kisses, loud enough for se-mi to hear. you should be thankful for se-mi being nice, because she speeds up, eager to make you cum and taste you. 

and then it happens. everything waist down tightens as you release, your orgasm ripping through you. a loud moan escapes your mouth and onto no-eul's who pulled away and watched your pleasured face. se-mi laps your juices up before you feel no-eul remove herself from behind you. 

se-mi stands up and no-eul whispers something to her, nodding before she pulls her pants and underwear down and tosses them somewhere else. you lick your lips at the sight before no-eul spoke up

"on your hands and knees." holy fucking shit— se-mi places herself down as you turn around, your legs slightly wobbling while you try to support yourself using your hands. your face was met with se-mi's dripping core before she speaks "well?" 

"i- i don't know how to... um," you shyly say, not feeling confident to make someone cum.

"it'll be fine, just trust your instincts." trusting her, you lean down to close the space between you and se-mi's cunt, giving her light kitten licks. "fuck— more." she forces out. you started making '8' patterns against her clit as she lets out a breathy moan. 

your eyes widen as you moan out loudly from no-eul slamming two of her fingers inside you without any warning. "fuck—! mngggh!" se-mi didn't let you adjust as she forcefully pushes your head down to her core, making your moans muffled against her, sending vibrations to her whole body. 

tears started to well up in your eyes as no-eul's fingers pound into you. no-eul grunts behind you as her fingers works wonders inside of you, hitting the right spots, "you're so fucking tight." 

se-mi lets out a scoff, "surprising, thought you were a whore." you moan against her core, if it was possible— you grew wetter at her words. 

you start to think that you're doing a good job because of how se-mi lets out small moans. you flutter your eyes open and traveled your eyes to look at her expression, you were surprised to see her already looking at you, eyes half-lidded with lips parted and sweat dripping down her forehead as you kept making out with her cunt. 

your arch your back as you felt no-eul curl her fingers inside you. you felt another orgasm building up, this time faster due to being the second one. 

"dirty girl, letting a guard fuck you senseless like this when you should be scared of me." you hear no-euls raspy voice— shit, her voice alone is turning you on so bad, making you feel butterflies inside your stomach. 

"think you can handle one more finger baby?" no-eul cooes, as you hum against se-mi, tasting something salty— did she just cum? holy fuck did i make her cum? 

se-mi tugs your hair up and shifts herself closer to you before crashing her lips onto yours. you could differentiate the way no-eul and se-mi kiss you: no-eul kissed you soft and slow while se-mi kissed you hungrily and rough. you moan into her mouth as no-eul pushes a third finger inside you, making you closer to releasing. 

"you're taking it so well, so good."  

you pull away from the kiss and se-mi immediately latches her lips on your neck, sucking on it. 

"i'm gonna cum- i'm gonna cum," you moan out as no-eul's fingers work faster. 

your eyes roll back as your second orgasm hits you, feeling an overwhelming bliss throughout your whole body. no-eul doesn't stop but she slows down her thrusts as she lets you ride your high. soon enough, you've calmed down and the woman behind you pulls her fingers out of you, making a squelching noise.

your knees shake before they gave out, if it weren't for se-mi catching you you would've fell to the floor face first. 

"clean her up. i need to go back outside." no-eul speaks up. you can hear the faucet running so you assumed she was washing her hands. you can feel se-mi nod against you, before you turned around to look at no-eul who was zipping up her jumpsuit and tidying herself up before walking towards the door. 

she's leaving already? the thought made you sulk.

se-mi leans you against the wall as she starts to dress herself up as well. no-eul pauses, her shoulders going up and down as if she let out a sigh before you see her turn around and walk back towards you.

you just stare straight forward dumbfoundedly, before feeling a cold hand tilt your chin up as no-eul leans down to give you once last kiss. 

"i trust you to not tell a soul about this." 

her voice was gentle but firm, and it made you not want to even think about telling anyone about this— it wasn't like you're planning to anyways. no-eul walks towards the door and pauses as she sees se-mi come back with a tissue roll on hand, she gives her a nod before unlocking the restroom door; she opened it slightly at first, checking for anyone outside, and walking outside when she confirmed it was clear.

se-mi picks your underwear and pants up from the floor and shakes it off, you stand up as she hands you the toilet paper and you use that to clean your slick off. she hands you your clothes after and you wear them, disposing the used tissue paper and then washing your hands after. 

you glanced at where you dropped your jacket, frowning when you didn't see it there. se-mi clears her throat behind you, you turn off the faucet and turn around before she hands you your jacket. 

you both stare each other awkwardly. you bit your lower lip as her lips form into a smirk, "have you learned your lesson?"

you nod slowly and then you see her raise her eyebrows at you. "next time you pull the same shit, i won't be so nice." she leans in to kiss you; you reciprocate. "but it's too bad we don't have too much time using the restroom." se-mi says in between kisses as she cups your jaw

"or maybe should i just fuck you out there for everyone to see, hm?"

she smiles against your lips, "even had a fucking guard swoon over you." she murmurs. you pull away from the kiss before clearing your throat, you aren't really sure what to say right now. "cmon." se-mi intertwines her fingers with yours as she leads you towards the restroom exit, opening it before stepping outside with you following.

no-eul— well, a masked guard, but you think it's her, was standing outside patiently, nodding and leading the way back to the large room after seeing the both of you.

your mind wanders off as you walk— oh my god. i just fucked two women and one of them's a fucking guard. a quiet sigh escapes your lips as you rethink your life choices;

what the hell am i doing with my life

                         ㅤ࿚࿚࿚࿚ㅤ࣭ㅤ𐙚ㅤ࣭ㅤ࿙࿙࿙࿙

"why are you walking so weirdly? hey— walk straight for the love of god!" mi-na exclaims as she catches you from falling down, the two of you were walking towards the line of players to get your breakfast.

"the fuck does that have to do with you not walking straight?" she scoffs, "it's like you got fucked so hard you can't walk." she murmurs as your eyes widen before you nudged her.

your cheeks heat up as you remembered the things that happened last night in the bathroom. you shake your head, "it's nothing. my head just hurts."

"mi-na!"

you didn't deny it though. if only she knew, if only.

@misayani

[supermassiveblackholeeyes]

Note: I wrote these at least twice but I can't find the last one.

1: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

yes. more so with my dad than my mom, but overall - yes.

2: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

margarita

3: Do you regret anything?

yes a lot of things. esp regarding my studying and career choices.

4: Are you insecure?

I thought I was not but I realized that yes, I am a bit. Regarding my body and youknowwhat.

5: What is your relationship status?

Single as always LMAOO kai-

6: How do you want to die?

I want to be able to tell the people who love me dearly that I will be alright and that I am extremely happy for the life and love I got to live and feel - After I tell them all this, and then I don't know.

7: What did you last eat?

lots of chocolates and now I'm not feeling good

8: Played any sports?

I kinda tried to learn tennis but I couldn't, was fine while it lasted though. I'm hoping I'll learn skiing or snowboarding this year. or boxing. I'll be very very content and happy if I do. (psst or calistenics)

9: Do you bite your nails?

just the ... skin around...........

10: When was your last physical fight?

have never had a serious physical fight I think. but slapped my sister a few days ago nothing serious. BECAUSE she pissed me off ok?

11: Do you like someone?

nope. A fictional crush Vi yes. but apart from that noooo. or maybe? no. or maybe....

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

wow. no.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

Hate is a strong word. many do annoy me but I love them all. I hate many government officials though. obviously.

14: Do you miss someone?

Yes my relative who is in the states.

15: Have any pets?

YESYESYES. I have a cat and a little dog. one is 3 and the other is 1. and also two dogs. but the first two are the ones I am close to and love veryverymuch.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

I am feeling a bit stressed and over stimulated. and annoyed. I don't know the exact reason why. maybe because I haven't left the house for days even though I wanted to. and I am angry at everybody who I could've gone out with but I did not.

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

no just a peck on the lips but friendly.

18: Are you scared of spiders?

Yes.

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

Yes. Yes. A hundred times yes.

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

I'll search up what that is n come back to yall.

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

I don't even know what day it is.

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

I go from no to yes a lot. so it was yes for a long while and now, like now these past weeks I feel like I don't want any? I am a confused individual so I truly don't know. but if I do I want 2. a girl first and then a boy.

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

Noo. Only have ear piercings. I'm getting the itch to have some more either on the side of my nose, or brows, or lips. but I don't like the permanent scar that it leaves so I guess I'm good without them.

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

Now this question made me sad. because once, centuries ago, it was maths. and now? I do not know... Nothing. I really am good at nothing for now.

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

I always miss at least someone. I miss my relatives who are in the states... I miss my friends who were once my neighbors (or maybe the times I spent with them). I miss everybody always.

26: What are you craving right now?

A good balanced meal. A big jug of room temp water. My room and a new gym membership.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Yes.

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

I've never been anything.

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

Not boyfriendboyfriend or girlfriendgirlfriend but I think maybe... but of course not on purpose

30: What’s irritating you right now?

Everything. the temperature in the house. people. my friends. this country. the world. humankind and everyone.

31: Does somebody love you?

Idk about romantic love but other than that of course. :)

32: What is your favourite color?

Black. navy blue. pink. green. pink and green together. green and red together.

33: Do you have trust issues?

yes, but I also have trust issues towards myself because I don't remember shit.

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

A reaaaaaally weird and creepy dream that I was in a huge, tall hotel on the last floor and it was all dark except of the last floor where I was and I was shitscared. another was that some ti tu shkbi found me and found out I was spreading info about them (which I was not) and tried to beat me up but fortunately I was the one who beat them up in the end.

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

My sister.

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

Not really?

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

easier to forgetttt. I am not forgiving sh1

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

no but it was the best year after 2019 at least.

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

... girl don't ask.

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

no? tf.

51: Favourite food?

Maybe sushi? And there is this bomb ass tofu salad I love that too. and a nice pizza, there was one in Italy with some pears on it. fantastic. also anything with truffle. I love food... I also kinda became a pescatarian this year, Which I thought would never happen. Oh and add khinkali to the list!

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

No. I think that's a bit selfish and evil to think so. Not everybody deserves the things that happen to them. I believe more in the "meant to be"... that not everything can be predicted.

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

Unfortunately nothing. I did dance a bit and daydream, and ate an orange before that.

54: Is cheating ever okay?

nope. Unless the partner is like ab*sive or a cheater themselves. or something veryveryveryveryveryvery bad and you can't get out of the relationship.

55: Are you mean?

I-... I try not to be? I truly think I am not. I just.. sometimes ON accident I am mean.

56: How many people have you fist fought?

bruh... none.

57: Do you believe in true love?

Yea... Starting to doubt it a BIT. but yes. Also when I say doubt it I mean doubt that there is the ONE that is meant for you.

58: Favourite weather?

Spring weather... late may. When you can wear jeans/pants and a short-sleeve on top. and some sneakers. my fav.

59: Do you like the snow?

Yes. haven't experienced it in a long time.

60: Do you wanna get married?

yea........................................... I think?.......

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

Woof woof. Yes.

62: What makes you happy?

When I have my sh1t together. So eating good balanced meals, sleeping well, reading, ditching scrolling and daydreaming, GOOD GRADES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my family, good weather, the sea, going out with friends in the evening when the weather is nice, food. which I already said... When I am good at something. Nice and pretty clothes (good quality fabric), pretty thrifted shoes, good skincare. Beauty.

63: Would you change your name?

No I love my name.

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

Yea I have issues.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Reject them-

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

YES.

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

Just talked to? my stepfthr.

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Maybe my sister? I don't know.

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

I believe you are meant to meet certain people.

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

yes.

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[canonkiller]

sometimes I think about how fan made merch has changed in the last few years and like. I'll admit maybe it's a fable grapes situation at least in part (my limitations keeping me from getting into physical merch production) and I've done a few small things in my time (charms, stickers, I have a Redbubble, y'know) so I don't intend to be like preachy about it but it's like . man idk isn't there enough

like I get that shit's easier to make than ever. you get charms, standees, clothes, plushies, all pretty standardized decent quality, made to order, straight to home. but more and more I can't stop myself from feeling like too much has changed. there's a lot of difference between one person's handmade oven clay charms at the artist alleys of conventions close to them vs having a travel schedule to all the major meetups so you can set up a mass produced enamel pin booth at each one. this isn't even touching on the working conditions of the people who do have to make the actual items, or the ecological impact of that much shipping and plastic.

I don't know. I guess I just kind of wish people stuck to making what they can actually make rather than just being a storefront for some small batch manufacturer. I wish we could do more recycling. if you want a charm of your blorbo why not learn how to make one for yourself instead of buying one. idk

[jinwoosbabyboo]

I have a silly thought that I would like to share with you. Sometimes, I make random noises as a sort of verbal keysmash. Wouldn't it be funny if the verbal keysmashes were somehow Lemurian swear words? Or an old Philos curse?

Gibberish … Maybe?

How I imagine the LADS men reacting to you accidentally saying something in another language. Whole time you just made a random noise and have no clue what they’re even talking about. A/N: Imagine saying "manamana doot dee de dee tee" and they think you just cursed them out in a different language

Zayne

Doorways and staircases really suck sometimes because why did you completely forget what you came in the kitchen for as soon as you walked through the cased opening. You stood there dumbfounded and made a random noise which you could only refer to as a ‘verbal keyboard smash’

Zayne: Where did you learn that? MC: Learn what? Zayne: You just said ‘Forevermore’ in latin MC: I literally made the most random noise my brain could think of Zayne: That was latin clear as day MC: How the hell do you know latin? Zayne: I studied it MC: Why? Zayne: Why not?

From then on Zayne sends you random quotes in latin just to see if you can tell what they say. You keep telling him you never learned latin and have no clue what he’s talking about. After months of him teaching you bits of latin you two have your own little secret language now.

Rafayel

Your brain must've stopped working for a second because here you are opening the oven with your left hand and reaching in with your right hand. The problem? The oven mitt is on your left hand. Just as the tip of your finger is about to hit the edge of that scalding hot cookie sheet you pull your hand back making the most random shocked noise.

Rafayel: What did you just call me? MC: What are you talking about? Rafayel: You just basically called me a barnacle muncher in glubbanese MC: Glubba what?! Rafayel: Who taught you that? MC: Nobody taught me anything what in the blue fuck are you talking about? Rafayel: Are you seeing other Lemurians? MC: I made a random noise Raf get outta my ear with all this

You turned to pull your baked goods out of the oven and set them on the stove. You quickly turned the oven off before turning back to him.

MC: Also aren’t you the only Lemurian left Rafayel: Me and my aunt Talia … wait!

He grips you by the shoulders

Rafayel: Was it her?! I knew it! I'll be back MC: NO! I-

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence as he turned on his heels and made a beeline for the front door. You try to stop him from storming out the door, but he was too fast. You stare at the door dumbfounded because you still have no clue what the actual fuck glubbanese is.

Xavier

Xavier was the perfect body pillow to lean against while you read a book. Perhaps you were a little too immersed in your book because when the major plot twist came the most unintelligible string of gibberish came out of your mouth. You felt Xavier stiffen behind you which broke you immersion.

MC: What's wrong? Xavier: Why did you say that? MC: Say what? Xavier: You just said something rather strange in Philosian MC: I said what in philosophy? Xavier: I’d rather not repeat it MC: Xav I literally just made a random noise Xavier: Well that random noise is ‘hairy anus’ in philosian MC: WHAT???

You sat up so fast you somehow managed to fall off the couch hitting your elbow on the coffee table. Xavier pulled you back onto the couch checking to make sure you were okay before you notice the grin he’s trying to hold back. He finds this whole thing hilarious.

MC: Stop laughing! Xavier: I should’ve known you didn’t mean to say that MC: I didn’t say anything I made a random noise Xavier: I’m sure you’ll be more careful next time MC: If Philosian sounds like random throat noises then yea I guess I'll be more careful

Sylus

You were laying on the plush couch in Sylus’ study while he was taking a few business calls. He said he would be done soon however the boredom was getting to you. With absolutely zero thought you blurted out a random noise. You didn’t think much of it until you looked over and saw Sylus starring at you; his brows furrowed and his head cocked. You sat up confused on why he was looking at you as if you’d just called him a no neck bitch or something.

Sylus: Where did you learn that? And when? MC: Learn what? Sylus: You just tried to curse me MC: I didn’t do anything…… Sylus: That was a curse in ancient Philosian MC: That was random gibberish Sylus: …. MC: Fix your face Sylus: Trying to get rid of me sweetie? MC: I’m not trying to do anything! Sylus: Unfortunately for you those curses don’t work on me you’ll have to try something else MC: What in the blue hell do you mean ‘try something else’ I didn’t try anything in the first place!

Ever since you supposedly tried to curse him in a language you’d never heard of he’s constantly teasing you. He checks in from time to time to see if you’ve taught yourself any new spells and you tell him the same thing every time.

MC: Sylus it was a random noise Sylus: Keep telling yourself that Sorceress

[strawberryblondebutch]

hi! Random question maybe, but you seem very knowledgeable about hockey: there's a post on the PWHL subreddit right now asking about the differences between PWHL and NHL hockey. A lot of people in the comments are saying the skill level in the PWHL is much lower, which to me a weird statement for multiple reasons, but I don't know enough to disagree or agree with certainty. Do you have any thoughts? In general, what do you think are the differences between the style of play in the two leagues right now (other than ofc level of physicality l)?

That is a weird statement, which I'll get into in a second. To me, the biggest differences are such.

Fundamentals. This is not a PWHL-specific statement. It also applies to the WNBA vs. the NBA, and baseball players drafted out of college vs. high school. With truly all the respect and love to my prep school coaches, college is where you learn how to play your sport. You get by on raw talent until you hit the college level (or, for Canadian men's hockey players, the junior level) and then you learn how to actually play. Men are spending 1-2 years in college before leaving for the show. Women do a full 4-5. It's hard to imagine someone like Jason Robertson (who I love) succeeding in the women's game, because he's not a very good pure skater. He got by on his raw offensive ability. If he were coming up through the NCAA, someone like Mark Johnson or Matt Desrosiers would have grabbed him and said, "You're doing extra shifts in the barn until you stop looking like you're drowning out there."

"Then the skill in nhl level is just insane. Passes are perfect, players can handle bouncing pucks easily, and most importantly positioning is excellent - players are almost always where they are supposed to be (because they are big and fast) so zone entry/exit is super smooth.

60 minutes of Flyers hockey would kill this Redditor. I can assure you passes are not perfect and positioning is abysmal in the NHL, because again... these are the fundamentals that players would learn if they weren't plucked out of college/juniors on the basis of their raw, unhoned talent.

Roster construction. This is largely a function of limited roster space. The PWHL has less than 1/4 the positions than the NHL does. In the men's game, each line has a defined role. The first two forward lines are your top scorers, the third line does most of the checking and defensive play, and your fourth O-line is meant to tucker out the opponents' best scorers. The PWHL doesn't really have checking lines, because there aren't really checking specialists. Instead, lines are determined by the whims of the coaches by a combination of seniority and "riding the hot hand" - players who score more get more ice time.

Goaltending. PWHL goalies are smaller than NHL goalies and working with the same size net. Someone like Ivan Fedotov (6'8") can take up more space just by standing there than someone like Emerance Maschmeyer (5'6"). As a result, PWHL goalies tend to be far more mobile, and they start their post-to-post movement early, trying to anticipate where the shot will come from so that they can physically get there and block it.

Speed vs. acceleration. I think the comments about size that people in that thread were mentioning are largely overblown because they forget that everything is relative. It only really counts in two dimensions. The first is in goaltending. The second is in movement. Taller players can cover more ground with each push, which helps with their speed. Smaller players, because they aren't dragging as much weight around the ice with them, can push off from a stop faster, which helps their acceleration. It's why KCS is such a pain in the ass to play against: if she and I are both standing at the starting line, she (5'2", 125 lbs) can take off much faster than I (5'10", 170 lbs) can. I can hope to close the distance by using my strength and stride, but she's got the edge on that first 200 ft. Hey, you know what else is 200 feet? A hockey rink. She beat me to the other end.

[fledgedragonfox]

A Wizard's Will

"you know you are only supposed to have 1 apprentice maybe 2 not 15." said the wizard council member "well until people stop leaving surprisingly powerful orphans at my doorstep I'll be taking care of my 17 apprentices." The council member snapped their wand "WHERE DID YOU GET 3 MORE!"

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

Bartriol the Brown gave a very deep sigh as the council erupted around him. The Blue who had spoken was nearly frothing at the mouth as he tried to process the situation. There were no strict rules against having so many apprentices, of course. But the older members of the council were sticklers for tradition. But really, was it Bartriol’s fault that so many magically inclined children were left abandoned in his woods? No. No it wasn’t, and he’d thank you very much for not insinuating such a thing. 

“Despite Nector’s anger, he makes a valid point Bartriol.” Navester the Green chimed in. Ever calm, ever courteous. He sat smiling over his half moon glasses as he looked Bartriol over. “We as wizards have a duty to teach the next generation of wizard kind, but surely having seventeen pupils must be taxing.” He said, ever poised and soothing. All his words got him was a flat look and several groans from the blues. 

“Well, if you don’t want me to raise such bright talents by myself, find out who keeps abandoning them.” Bartriol responded as he pushed back his chair. “Meanwhile, little Wecco requested I pick up some of that nice elven taffy on my way. And Markle has that nasty cough. Really I must be off” Several members of the council tried to stop him, but Bartiol was out the door and on the back of his pet griffon before they could blink.

True to his word, Bartriol stopped by the lovely little candy shop in elven towne and bought enough taffy to feed his little army. Then he popped into the hedge witch’s for a tonic for Markle. A quick flight had him back in his clearing. A cozy cottage was tucked into the roots of a massive tree. Windows dotted the trunk, all the way up and above the treeline. His garden was green and bright even as the chills of fall were beginning to nip about. 

Laughter filled the clearing as his apprentices practiced. Some of his older ones were practicing with their newly carved staves. Nico and Scarlet were having a mock battle while Ozmund fiddled with the gemstone on the tip of his staff.  Hecubah was spending her time grooming the countless cats that had emerged from the wood to meet her. She would certainly be a brown when she was old enough for a robe. Wickle was picking blackberries for some strange concoction they were planning. 

“Master Bartriol, Master Bartriol!” A voice called out, getting closer all the time. He turned to see Baker jogging up to him. Finally reaching eighteen, Baker had only recently been given a robe. Bartriol had practically glowed as his eldest had been deemed worthy of a grey robe. “What did the council need you for?” The boy asked. Translation: “Why did the council feel the need to summon a brown rather than just come for a visit?”. Bartriol was inclined to agree. After all, Wickle and Walker had just perfected a rather scrumptious cream tart that most of the white wizards simply adored. 

“Oh, it was nothing. The blues are getting jealous I think.” Bartriol said, a twinkle in his eye. The young man was a bit confused, but his mature facade melted just as soon as the bag of taffy hit his chest. His eyes lit up like he was a child again. Bartriol didn’t linger, instead walking up the path to his home. Tossing bags of taffy left and right to be caught or fumbled by his gaggle of trouble makers. 

The inside of his cottage was just as chaotic. Mice and hedgehogs were ferrying items and ingredients from the pantry and into the kitchen. In all corners his children shrieked, played, and practiced. Wecco popped into existence with a loud crack. Her eyes were wide as dinner plates. Bartriol laughed, and complimented her on her sudden apparition, before dropping a bag of taffy in her waiting hands. She hugged him round the waist and with another loud crack was gone. 

Taffy was handed off to Bailey, Shiphand, Byrd, Terrycloth, Winona, and Lumps as he passed them by. Some of his children' s names were less than fortunate, but until they decided to change them there was nothing to be done. His children gave choruses of thanks as he smiled and commented on their studies. He ascended the stairs and made his way to the sick room, where little Markle and Westron were resting. 

“Hullo master Bartriol.” Markle said, coughing into his hand. Squella, the second eldest, and only one of his apprentices who was not of human birth, hopped onto the desk and chirped a hello. She often volunteered her time watching over her sick siblings. Bartriol was certain she would end up in a green robe before the year was out. The little borrower squeaked in pure joy at the huge bag of taffy that Bartriol sat beside her. Westron lay in bed, struggling to keep a human form. The poor lad had flesh magic, and Bartiol was still searching for a way to help him control it. 

“And how are we all doing today?” Bartriol asked, pulling out the cough syrup he’d picked up and coaxing Markle to drink some of the bitter sweet concoction. As the trio began to open up about their day. The wizard rubbed soothing circles in Westron's aching back as they talked and enjoyed their taffy. Yes the blues could kick up a fuss and complain, but really where else would the children go? It seemed to Bartriol that the blue wizards were simply jealous they hadn’t produced a single non-blue wizard in years.

While a lowly brown had produced a grey, and was well on the way to making a great splash with the rest of his apprentices. Really though, even if they hadn’t a single lick of talent for wizardry, he would still bring them in from the cold all the same. Wickle and Walker would surely be hedge witches one day with how they cooked and baked. As the pair of sicklings tired themselves out, Bartriol excused himself from Squella’s company to take a walk through the woods. It had been a good few months since Markle and Westron had come to him. It would probably be smart to check the edges of the wood just in case another little one had been left behind. 

After all, if people were going to leave surprisingly powerful orphans all alone in his woods, he might as well take care of them. Blues be damned. 

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

For anyone wondering, I do have some more ideas on how these wizards work, but for that I'll need to do a few more prompts. lol. Let me know what you think!!!

Also, figured I might as well share this again. Losing a bit of heart but well, here it is.

All of the details for the gofundme can be found on the gofundme page, I promise.

Pareon: Artemis Dragonfox Gofundme: https://gofund.me/d271f0c4

"you know you are only supposed to have 1 apprentice maybe 2 not 15." said the wizard council member "well until people stop leaving surprisingly powerful orphans at my doorstep I'll be taking care of my 17 apprentices." The council member snapped their wand "WHERE DID YOU GET 3 MORE!"

[quintessenceofdust88]

Bucktommy + 46

👀👀👀👀

ohhhh anonnn, thank you for this ask, this was so much fun! 👀 I hope you enjoy this one! I swear I didn't mean to make it NSFW (just slightly! it's not explicit smut or anything, I regret to say D:) at first, but the boys took it away from me and they're horny bastards, so I'm adding a cut:

Buck enjoys coming to karaoke trivia night with Tommy. There's something special in seeing his boyfriend so comfortable in his own element, answering questions about movies (he knows every Oscar winner since 1929 and it's hot) and belting out 80s pop hymns that Buck barely know through cultural osmosis.

There's one thing he doesn't like about it: Nick.

Nick being a member of Tommy's trivia team, he's the brother of one of the other guys. Nick is new, he just moved back from Australia and has been to two trivia nights already. And Nick loves 80s songs, and movies, and craft beer, and apparently he has to let Tommy know all of that.

('Yes, I do love everything that comes from the 80s. Say, how old are you again, Tommy?') "So, Tommy", Buck overhears Nick saying in that insufferable fake accent when he's coming back with beers for him and Tommy. "How about we sing a duet next? Maybe that song from Dirty Dancing?'

Buck isn't that good with movie references, but he knows Dirty Dancing because he watched it with Tommy just last week. And yeah, this duet is not gonna happen.

"Actually, I've already booked us for a duet, babe. We're singing 'The Boy is Mine'. I hope you know that one, Nick" Buck says, putting the beers down and glaring daggers at Nick, then turning to Tommy. " Now come here, I missed you"

He doesn't wait for Tommy's answer; he pulls him close by the collar of his shirt and glues his lips to Tommy's with enough fierceness to bruise. Tommy groans against his lips, but if he had any intention to protest, it quickly melts down, and he wraps his arms around Buck's waist, kissing him back just as enthusiastically.

When they finally break apart, both gasping, Tommy's lips red and swollen, he's staring at Buck with his mouth agape and flushed cheeks and... Buck smirks as he looks down at Tommy's crotch; bad day to wear light pants, apparently.

"Yeah, we're not singing any duets" Tommy declares, voice weak and high-pitched. "We're going home. Right now" "Oh, I'm sure Nick will be more than glad to transmit our goodbyes, won't you, Nick?" Buck says smugly, taking Tommy's hand in his and practically dragging him towards the bar exit under Nick's indignant stare. "Fuck, Evan" Tommy says breathlessly as the cold air hits them when they get outside. "You are so hot when you get all possessive, but that was entirely unnecessary. You know I'm not even remotely interested in him, right?" "Oh, I know" Buck purrs, pressing Tommy against the wall of the bar, pinning his arms above his head and kissing him again, making sure to bite his lip before letting go. "I just love the opportunity of reminding you of who you belong to" Tommy's breath hitches, his lip bulging where Buck bit him, and he lets out a moan, squirming against Buck's strong hold. "I... I think I need a stronger reminder" He says, and Buck chuckles, pressing a kiss against his earlobe. "I'll remind you alright, Tommy" He promises. And by God, does Buck intend to fulfill that promise.

-- (Would anyone be interested in a continuation bc I *think* possessive!Buck might be enough to unblock the smutty writer in me, so let me know, ok?) Send me a ship and a number and I'll write you a kiss!

[captainpetebradshaw]

so i watched 2x22 "the wire" for the first time today and it was a near religious experience so you're getting my thoughts on it under the cut

I love how comfortable they've gotten with each other; talking books? disagreeing about books? garak asking if julian can't just use his status as a doctor to get them to skip the line?

"perfect health, huh??" julian is so offended by garak lying to him about his condition lol

"i'm a doctor, not a botanist" is this some kind of star trek tradition?

"why can't he just tell me what's going on?" "it sounds like you're taking this personally" "i suppose I am... It's just that garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year now" once a week?! for more than a year?!

and then julian angrily stabbing dax's plant in frustration. let it out.

unsure if quark called julian to come get the absolutely hammered garak from his bar because he's the doctor or because julian is literally the only social contact quark could think of for garak???

"i prefer to drink somewhere quiet" "quiet? excellent idea... we'll go to my quarters" "whatever you want. but first i must make a stop at the infirmary" guess garak wasn't drunk enough for that little trick

but he was drunk enough to not notice the bottle hand-off to quark

"make it stop, make it stop..." aww no, poor baby!

julian using his doctor credentials to basically break into garak's. guess they ended up in his quarters after all

"if i was ever tortured, [the implant] was designed to stimulate the pleasure centers of my brain to trigger the production of vast amounts of natural endorphins" i gotta say, that has some freaky fucked up potential for fanfics and i can't wait to see how often it has been appropriated in the last 30 years

"living on this station is torture for me, doctor. the temperature is always too cold. the lights are always too bright. every bajoran on the station looks at me with loathing and contempt" ah yes, the autism experience

"why don't you just shut the damn thing off?" julian, do they teach nothing about addiction in med school?

i had to rewind this scene a couple times because i was chanting "kiss! kiss! kiss!" in my living room and didn't listen to a word they said. the 4:3 aspect ratio is also doing its thing

"has it ever occured to you that i might be getting exactly what i deserve?" "no one deserves this" julian going from all that taunting and appealing to garak's pride to this???? unexpected softness incoming

garak telling this story about how he is responsible for so many people dying and julian just saying right now he's just concerned for his health and won't let him die??? "you need to turn that implant off and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, i promise i'll help you through them" like this is insane. i assumed people shipped them for a reason (and lower decks made them "canon" for a reason) but i was LIVING watching this.

it also has to be said that andrew robinson is acting the ever living shit out of these scenes - fantastic

even odo can't get past protector mode chief medical officer doctor bashir

staying by his bedside? for hours???

shoulder touch denied!!!

it's wild, garak must be suffering so much in that moment but he's still spinning up some new potential backstory. maybe this time it's not a lie but we just don't know.

"and so they exiled you" "that's right! and left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you." "i'm sorry you feel that way. i thought you enjoyed my company." "oh i did! and that's the worst part. i can't belive that i actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into your smug sanctimonious face. i hate this place and i hate you." "ok, garak." addicts do get just absolutely hateful so this sounds pretty spot on to me.

on a side note, i don't think i could have done lunch every week with julian. he is smug and he has a big ego and i relate to the other senior officers who were sometimes a little condescending in their reactions when he was boasting about something or other. but that's ok, i don't have to. garak enjoyed it, it seems.

garak: you still have to learn the truth julian: heart eyes motherfucker

"why are you telling me this, garak?" "so that you can forgive me. why else? i need to know that someone forgives me"

"i forgive you. for whatever it is you did" "thank you, doctor. that's most kind"

so julian goes and finds the guy who's kind of responsible for garak having that implant in the first place. it's also i think the first time julian acknowledges they are friends?

"how sick is garak?" "he's dying" "and you're trying to save him?" "that's right" "strange... i thought you were his friend?" "i suppose i am" "then you should let him die. after all, for garak, a life in exile is no life at all"

"thank you" "don't thank me. i'm not doing garak any favors. he doesn't deserve a quick death. on the contrary. i want him to live a long, miserable life. i want him to grow old on that station surrounded by people who hate him, knowing that he'll never come home again. "what a lovely sentiment" "and it's from the heart, i assure you" <- that made me laugh

we learn garak's first name!

he's well again! back to the regularly scheduled lunch date!

and he's got a new book recommendation for julian, how nice

"what i want to know out of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't" "my dear doctor, they were all true" "even the lies?"

"especially the lies"

smiley boys!

this ended up being more of a collection of my favorite quotes from the episode but that's fine with me. it's my post.

[shackleton2]

it's true and I say this as an avid binge-watcher who in the stone age had to look up transcripts of episodes because I couldn't wait THREE ENTIRE DAYS OF MY LIFE FOR NETFLIX TO MAIL ME THE NEXT DVD

Seasons of TV released as one fat drop of 8-12 1-1.5hr episodes, literally being told THIS IS FOR YOU TO BINGE IN ONE INSANE SITTING is the exact definition of my dreams and desires.

......why are they no good??

I can definitely think of exceptions, but "both of them have too much time and not enough time for the characters to struggle and grow and change," as it's well-put above, does seem to be the rule more and more. But what does that phrase really mean??

I saw something recently weighing in on this and saying series in particular seem to think every single thing depicted on screen has to move the story forward, possibly because everything is angled to encourage "binging". It's funny because that sounds like it should do the opposite of making the story feel ponderous and pointless!! So what's going on?

Maybe it's because Real Life™ isn't constantly moving towards one plot resolution, so the more you write a story where that's true, the more impossible true immersion for the viewer becomes?

But also I think actively designing a series to be compulsively watched in one or two massive sittings is hurting them as stories. Maybe it's because bingeing, especially as it's understood in other contexts, is not about enjoying something massively good, at least not after the initial part.

We all know this, right? You don't binge on something because it's just sooooo good. Are there people out there who have never done any kind of binge? Maybe so, so I'll tell you because I surely have: it's inertia. A really scary kind, to be honest, that feels, after a while of getting acclimated to nonstop-consuming the thing, like an absolute involuntary need. Because the second I stop eating the family sized bag of chips, stop taking another drink, stop lighting another smoke, reality will come rushing back in place of the comfort-stimulus. And in reality I am not experiencing joy or even pleasure, I am experiencing the kind of existential horror you get when you try to convince yourself you don't actually have to deal with your own mind. This 100% applies to letting the next episode autoplay after 5 hours of watching one story unfold.

Sorry I got kinda dark there, but the point I'm trying to illustrate is that I don't think you NEED a GOOD PRODUCT in order to get people to binge. And, well, that shows more and more with this "content" streaming services are releasing.

True Blood was a hot mess in so many ways and my mental health sure as shit was too but holy shit watching that obsessively years back was so FUN. That show and other story-loves of mine feel different from stuff getting released in full-season streaming dumps right now, and I don't think it's quality of writing or acting or effects or anything else making the difference as much as whether a show seems to genuinely LIKE itself, or whether it's counting on you finding it preferable enough to reality to let the next episode play and thus get good stats.

we need 15-20 episode seasons again these limited series have the worst pacing in the world and none of the character decisions hold any weight

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Can I get 34 from the prompt list with Max Verstappen?

Burn It All Down ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Prompt: 34. “You could put a knife to my throat and I wouldn’t flinch.”

₊ ⊹ mv x reader ★

₊ ⊹ fluff + angst + mafia au ★

masterlist ☾☼

There is the city outside, beyond that high-rise apartment window full of bright lights against the dim darkness that spreads out like living darkness across the room. This air was thick with tension only found in the underworld of crime and clung to your sweaty body as you sat along the edge of the worn, leather couch. The collapse of your father's empire was suffocating to him.

You had always played the part of the dutiful daughter, watching from the shadows as men like Max Verstappen rose to power within your father's rival mafia family. But tonight, everything had changed. Max wasn't just a soldier anymore. He was a betrayal.

You didn't know when it was exactly—that point at which the lines blurred between enemies and something else—you just knew you couldn't deny it anymore. Max was no longer a thorn in your side; he had morphed into a problem.

Now, standing before you, clad in his black leather jacket, looking more ominous than ever, he had become the problem you no longer had the luxury to ignore.

Max entered, his eyes piercing into yours and cold, yet intense, but at the same time, was a flicker of another emotion. Was it maybe regret? Or something deeper still? You didn't know. But one thing did you know for sure- you knew Max Verstappen was there not as a foe, but as the man who made a decision.

"You shouldn't be here," you said, your voice steady, despite the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

Max didn't flinch at your words. He only took a step closer, his presence suffocating. "I came to see you. To tell you the truth."

The words felt like a punch to the chest. He was here to betray his family. To betray everything he had fought for all these years.

"You think I'll believe you?" you said, your hand curling into a fist by your side. "You were never supposed to be my enemy, Max. I never wanted this."

Max’s jaw tightened, his lips pressed into a hard line. “I didn’t either. But I’ve spent my entire life being trained to be this monster, to be a weapon for my family. And for what? To destroy yours? To keep killing without ever stopping to think about why?"

He was angry now, his voice low and rough. "I'm done with this life. I'm done being the monster. I'm done being a pawn in a game that will never end."

Your heart raced as he closed the distance between you, and suddenly, he was right there, standing too close, his presence overwhelming. You could feel the heat from his body, the rawness in his words.

"Then why now?" You couldn't help but ask, his decision settling in like lead. "Why come to me now, Max? Do you think I can just forget everything?"

Too much had happened. He had killed too many of your people for you to just forgive him. He hadn't known, but that didn't change the outcome.

He shook his head slowly, eyes softening for the briefest moment. "No. But I cannot keep living this lie. I'm not going to be the one who keeps killing for the sake of power anymore. I'm finished."

You met his eyes, the battle warring inside you. A part of you wanted to believe him. A part of you wanted to trust him, wanted to toss aside the years of hatred, of bloodshed. But the other part of you—the daughter of a mafia boss, trained from birth to distrust men like him—couldn't.

"Max, you think you can just leave them all behind? You think you can walk away without consequences?" Your voice was shaking now, barely contained. "Do you really think you can just walk away from your family?"

Max's face hardened, the pain in his eyes a reflection of the decision he had already made. "I don't care anymore. I would burn it all to the ground for you."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words landed like a strike to the heart.

Max stepped closer, but before you could process it, the door slammed open, and three figures appeared in the doorway. Daniel, Lando, and Charles— Max's mafia brothers, who had somehow followed him to her house, to her room.

Daniel, always the level-headed one, was the first to speak, his voice stern. "Max, what the hell are you doing? You can't just walk away. You can't—"

"Shut up, Daniel," Max interrupted, his voice filled with fury. "You don't understand."

Lando crossed his arms, his expression part incredulity, part anger. "You're really throwing everything away for her? For her?" he spat, nodding toward you. "You're making a huge mistake, Max. You can't just betray the family like this."

Charles, normally calm, looked between you and Max, his eyes narrowed. "This isn't just about her, Max. This is about everything we've worked for. You know what they'll do to you if you walk away. You're putting us all in danger."

Max didn't flinch. He didn't back down. His gaze was unyielding as he turned to face them, his voice steely. "I've already made my decision.". I don't care if they come after me. I don't care if they kill me. I'm doing this for her." He pointed to you, his finger trembling slightly. "I'm doing this because I can't live in this bloodbath anymore. And if I have to choose between them and her, I choose her."

The room fell silent.

You could feel the weight of Max's words—words that could tear apart everything he had worked for, everything he had fought to protect. Your heart ached for him. And yet, despite the betrayal, you felt something else—something far deeper. Hope.

"Max, you can't be serious," you whispered, voice breaking. "You know what will happen if you do this. I know what'll happen. My family could kill you. Your own family would kill you. Hell, for all you know, I'm a ploy and I'm going to kill you at your most vulnerable state!"

A subtle softening crept up Max's features as the words fell, his tone one of sincerity, "You could put a knife to my throat, and I wouldn't flinch," Those last words slammed home, washing into you like a tsunami wave. You think you saw, suddenly in his eyes, a better reason than just love-for it was also freedom-to be able to give and take from one another end.

"You really would? You really would leave everything that you've been trained for, that you've worked for, that you've been loyal to, for me?" you asked, your voice breaking and trembling as you took a step closer to him.

Max's jaw softened, a little something in his gaze. "I already did."

For a long moment, the world outside seemed to fade, and the only thing in your existence was the both of you within that room. Your enemies were still there, in the doorway, but Max was resolute about what he was saying, his decision solid and concrete: he had already chosen.

And so had you.

"I can't promise you an easy life, Max," you said softly. "But if you're really willing to risk it all for me… then I'll fight for you."

Max stepped closer, his hand reaching for yours. "Then let's burn it all down together."

The room was silent and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you realized that no matter how hard the world fought against you, nothing could break the two of you apart.

The days that followed were chaos. Max's betrayal was not left unexposed, and the repercussions were brutal. But with you by his side, the two of you fought back against the storm, tearing down the remnants of both mafia families. It wasn't easy. There were losses, close calls, and moments where it felt like the world was trying to pull you both apart.

But you stayed. Together.

Max Verstappen had burned his past to the ground, but in doing so, he had built something new. With you. And in the end, it was that bond—the one forged in blood and fire—that kept you both unbreakable.

✧˚ ʚɞ˚ ༘✿ ♡ ⋆｡˚

i tried something different this time! let me know if y'all like it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04

[mo-ons-stuff]

Pick a Card: Your Love Life in 2025

Any card!

Pile one -> Pile two ↓ Pile Three

Pile One

I'm hearing that you're going to experience this fairytale kind of love. The one where Cinderella and Prince Charming find each other. They dance at the ball, yadda yadda yadda. You're going to experience it all, so I don't have to reaaalllly go into that much detail. It'll be great.

Except, since I also see that you'll love this person persistently, right? But there's also gonna be a minor issue. They're perfect, sure, but there's that one thing that gets you a bit like... hmmmm.

Aka, ~the ick~.

Now, pile one, you're going to have to get real for a moment. Is it an ick, or is it normal? Can you really chastise someone for existing as, like, a human being?

This year will bring you great love, but also great lessons. You may need to learn how to grow with other people. Meaning, you've done the work to get comfortable with yourself, but are you comfortable with other people? I don't see so. You're actually a bit more judgmental than you thought, to the point where you don't realize it. You may think of yourself as a person who is graceful to others, so maybe try seeing where this thought blocks you from actually giving grace.

Sometimes we get so caught up in our own lives that we forget to focus on growing with other people, too. The thing you're gonna have to remember is to get out of your own head. Touch grass. I don't see that you don't but maybe look at the grass for what it is instead of triumphantly exclaiming that you did the thing.

So, in tandem with what I just said, your love life will go just perfectly. I doubt that this lesson will fly over your head, so try not to ruin a good thing for yourself and it will all be good. You're going to get your happily ever after.

Want me to elaborate? Consider a paid reading!

Pile Two

Not going to lie, this pile is similar to pile three in the sense that you've gone through a bit. Life has a habit of throwing things at you, so you are used to bracing yourself. However, where others haven't done the work, you have. Where there was lack before, there is abundance now. You cultivated the wastelands and have conquered mountains. You've done so much and now all is left is... love?

You're pretty balanced as an individual. Nicely enough, this actually attracts people. That. Is. So. Crazy !!!! <- I'm getting that you'll be thinking back on this year and it's interactions like that. Literally, though, it's going to blow your mind how when push comes to shove... your efforts actually led to good results. You're going to see what it's like in action.

It's not like it's going to be too unbelievable. It's literally just a new normal. And, it takes getting used to.

When you do get used to it, dating itself is going to be really nice. You'll know how to get around and find someone. This is going to be less of a surprise to you; I'll explain why.

This lover is very bumbly (almost clumsy) and sweet, and meanly enough you may not consider them an option at first. It's not personal, you just didn't. But they are also kind of obvious too. It's just endearing, honestly. They're a bit silly, with all of this as I'm reading like awww they're so cute. You won't have to worry about the cruelty of the world with them. They're a human with emotions and complications do arise because of that, but you know how to navigate these things and so do they.

Not going to lie, some of you are afab wlw, and others are afab but straight. This person could be either gender, so basically take it as it resonates for the gender you're into.

*gif unrelated. Tahani is hot and a baddie.

Want me to elaborate? Consider a paid reading!

Pile Three

"I am trying to find myself. Sometimes that's not easy."- Marilyn Monroe

Admittedly, and I mean admittedly because you know this deep down, pile three, but admittedly you know that your love prospects haven’t been good. You are aware of why, too. There’s a truth that you’re running from, all because it’s a bit too painful to process. And it makes you choose the same hurt again and again. The devil often comes knocking at your door, and you haven’t comprehended that maybe you shouldn’t fall for the different clothes or his sweet words.

All of that is to say: gain more self-awareness. You’re falling for the same tricks in different clothes because you aren’t aware of what you need to do to not let this in. Boundaries are powerful only because they stop things that aren't meant for you in your life. Don't forget: you not liking things and acting accordingly is a boundary, too.

To speak from the heart for a moment: I kept wondering why certain types of people were "attracted" to me, like I was a magnet for bad. But, as it turns out, I've learned that other people tolerate bullshit so much less. Meaning, I was not attracting these people. They interact with others too; I was letting them in where others wouldn't. If you're suffering, and you notice that the people around you aren't, they're doing something you haven't been doing. Maybe you subconsciously tolerate less, or maybe you even consciously ignore the voice in your head telling you to get away.

You can only ever subconsciously tolerate less by consciously getting disgusted at tolerating more.

Actionable advice to change your future: if confronting the monster that needs to be confronted is too hard for you, chip away at its hard scales slowly but surely. Keep your distance at the times you need to, and confront it head on when you need to. It takes patience and you may get burned, but experience is the best teacher. Look to others who have been through the same thing as you and be completely open to trying what they have successfully used to combat their disorders, addictions, and trauma (always get medical professional help first though).

This is a you year. One day at a time, you will get better. And when the next new year rolls around, maybe you'll have learned enough to finally embrace a year of romantic prosperity and abundance. I see that this pile is actually lowkey full of baddies, pulling a quote by Marilyn Monroe isn't for weak personalities.

On a final note, don't get discouraged by this message. One year in a life is a drop in the ocean. You most likely won't remember the lonely times when you finally do reach the other side of the hardships. All that matters is that you get comfortable with *you*, and what's meant for you will soon follow.

Want me to elaborate? Consider a paid reading!

Thank you for reading!

[befallenstars-archive]

Oh, my...I did not read the 15k words part. However, we are here.

Before I yap— Eris, have I ever told you that there's something about the way you write that catches my interest? Can't really put it into words just yet. Maybe if I read more I'll eventually formulate that feeling into words~

Alright, spoilers under the cut! And LOTS of yapping~

Blade

Going for the single bed trope I see...this'll be interesting (¬ ͜ ͡¬)

Okay, but I do find it funny that the reason he wanted to share the bed was for the reader and him to get better rest. Only for the two of them to NOT get a wink of sleep. Reader toss

Love to see a reader that doesn't back down and even takes on a challenge. And oop— would you look at that. Nobody's really getting any sleep now. Hopefully, the bed frame's sturdy enough! And that the walls are thick enough for the sake of the neighbors.

"Knowing you did that to him-that you could make this cold, calculating man lose control-sent an electric thrill through you." Mnhmmm...I'm sure it did.

I think the maintenance of professional distance flew out of the window the moment he said they should share the same bed— to which was literally made for a single person alone. Also when the reader agreed.

Please, just fuck already—

Did I get slightly absorbed in reading that I forgot to make comments? Yes. Sorry. I actually came back to drop a comment about the headboard bc I'm praying for that thing to survive the night.

Also...whoooo *fans self* there's a reason I was a bit occupied with reading than commenting. That bit was VERY distracting.

Ah, a touch of sadomasochism. Love to see it.

Personally, I've always been weak when it comes to the magic phrase "pretty girl". Always will be actually.

Hey!!! The bed frame survived. At least they'll be able to sleep comfortably now.

And the softness of the ending. From passionate and almost feral but gently holding each other and savoring the moment <333

Sunday

THE TENSION.

Ohhh, the underlying yearning and fear of speaking out because of the status. Wanting to just close that small gap and yet it feels like such a wide wedge between two people who simply want to love one another.

I am unwell.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his forehead against yours. You don't.

What if I flatline—

Yes. Go, reader! Tell him! That man's holding back too much when he already has such a gorgeous being in his arms who clearly wants him. Stop trying to play hard to get, Sunday.

Did I get distracted? AGAIN? Yes. Yes, I did.

Came back to comment when he said that he'd be gentle. Oh, his constant reassurances, and the way he does his best to memorize and savour the intimate moment with the reader. I am sighing out dreamily and swooning into a fluffy couch. He's even focusing on the reader's pleasure and comfort!!

...all these praises have me looking the side blushing and fanning myself—

THE CONFESSION. I'M TEARING UP AS WE SPEAK. THE WAY HE'S BEGGING??? I'M ON THE FLOOR.

I actually wanted to pick a dialogue to put here and fawn over but all of them are actually too good. I can't pick one. All of them are just— URGH

"His arms wrap around you, holding you close. It's a protective gesture, as if he's afraid you might slip away if he lets go."

Lemme see if I can find that one specific meme that describes how I feel rn...

AHA! FOUND IT!

Did you know? I'm actually an absolute sucker for the lines that go "You're home". Very much so. That was the final nail to the coffin.

Agrenti

Oop— fanboy behavior, huh?

Ngl, I'm fairly new to HSR so I don't really know this character. But he seems like such a sweet guy. Deserves tons of kisses.

"He didn't know whether to laugh or combust." Pretty understandable if someone as lovely and amazing as the reader offers to be your first kiss.

...giving me a wolf hidden in sheep's clothing vibes rn. Interesting. Nvm, he's still a sweetheart <3

He reminds me of a bunny somehow. Like I just wanna pet him and reassure him that he's fine. Very adorable too hehe

Reader has this man completely in the palm of their hand, I fear. Dude is absolutely SMITTEN.

He's so sweet huhu

The ending!! So soft and lovely. Just two people just enjoying the connection they have.

Aventurine

I will never tire of the way you write the reader, Eris! The sassy and confident attitude? Oh, please! I might just started simping for her instead of the men at this point—

"I’m pretty sure the only thing you’ve carried is that overinflated ego of yours.” IM WHEEZING AS WE SPEAK.

“What can I say? You’re entertaining, like a fancy slot machine with nice hair.” *cue incoherent fox wheezing noises* NO BC I AM IN LOVE WITH THESE REMARKS.

I just know the dealer's just there looking up to the ceiling and praying to whatever aeon there is to let the reader and this man just get a room before he has to call for both security and clean-up service.

Was the gap between feedbacks a bit...lengthy? Yes. But in my defense it's only 'cuz a certain writer over here really knows her way with words on how to make the tension so thick and palpable that I'm too busy drowning in it to make any comments.

"Let me take care of you." I dunno if you'll be able to tell which part I am on rn but I promise you that I am absolutely blushing and burying my face against my pillows.

"He moans in response" I am currently dying from a nosebleed.

Unsurprisingly, I'm weak towards the specific petname "love"...

I absolutely adore the softness of it all afterwards. My heart's melting huhu

Dr. Ratio

*breathes in*

THE INTIMACY—

Good gods, I am over here just reading the first scenes and I can already feel the tension seeping into my bones. I'm just here with a hand over my mouth, and completely invested in the way this all unfolds.

This one feels so...intimate somehow. I can't really explain it and I am absolutely loving it. I think it's in the way that most of the time the reader is more fiery and sassy while here? It feels like there's a bit more depth to it. Such a good read and I'm literally still at the first part.

"Let's move somewhere private." Yeah, I agree since I recall Aventurine saying they'll be back in a bit. Hell, I'm not even gonna be surprised if they were in the shadows making bets about how this all goes, and didn't want to disturb the moment.

"His words were sincere, giving you an out if you needed it. But the way his eyes roamed over your face, the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours, betrayed his own longing." + "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

I AM WEAK IN THE KNEES FOR THIS.

"He stepped back slightly, giving you a moment to take in the sight of him..." Hands on my hips rn. I also had to take a moment to go 'Really?' with an exasperated expression on my face.

Devotion. First word that came to mind. I adore that so so very much.

I am feeling this fic was definitely the favorite child.

Wait. Just finished the fic. Lemme gather my thoughts. That— I...uhm..how...wow. Who knew a smut at 8AM could render me speechless in a good way, eh?

I just KNOW this fic was definitely the favorite child. Though the ending was a lot more bittersweet than I expected huhu

Jing Yuan

Ah, last but not the least. Unsure how to feel abt this one since I found him unnerving when I first met him in-game.

"Stop thinking so much." Goddamn, I wish it were a switch I could just turn off—

WELL, THAT THREW ME OFF-GUARD.

Was I once again sucked into the tension that I completely forgot to make comments? Yes. I'm sorry. It's not my fault. Eris writes them too well.

By this point, I truly have a love and hate relationship with this man. Do I still find him unnerving? Yes. But he also extremely attractive that it's unfair when matched with the honeyed-tongue of his.

Struggling rn/lh

...having even more mixed feelings abt Jing Yuan bc of this fic—

But alas! Setting that aside...

Eris, I am positively in love with your writing <3

༉‧₊˚. Turning Page ˚.₊༉

Ft. Sunday ノ Blade ノ Aventurine ノ Dr Ratio ノ Jing Yuan ノ Argenti

sum: unintended one night stands with hsr men wc: 15.7k (roughly 2k - 3k per part)

contains: fempovノpnv (unprotected), creampie, (protected in argenti's), oral (receiving and giving), fingering, handjob, college au in argenti's, royal au in sunday's, both had been drinking in ratio's, legal age gap in jing yuan's, loss of virginity (reader's in sunday's part & argenti's in his part)

a/n: argenti's just so sweet <333

༉ - 2k

The safe house was cramped and freezing, with bare walls that felt as though they'd been forgotten by time. The mission was far from over, and so was the night. Blade had insisted on sharing the only bed, his reasoning being that it made more sense for both of you to rest.

You didn’t argue, at least not openly—but as the minutes dragged on, frustration slowly began to creep in.

But beneath it all, there was an undercurrent, a taut thread of tension that whispered of something unspoken—a frustration you weren’t ready to confront.

The bed was far too small for two people. You could feel his presence constantly, his shoulder brushing against yours with every move you made. It was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from his body, or the quiet tension hanging in the air. The silence between you felt suffocating, far too thick.

You shifted again, desperate to find a comfortable spot, but it was futile. His warmth pressed into your side, too close for comfort. No matter which way you turned, there was only more of him—his body right there, almost too much. You tried to pull away, but the space was so tight you were only met with the sharp edges of the bed, forcing you back into him.

“Stop moving,” Blade muttered, his voice low and laced with irritation. But there was something else, a tension that hinted at a deeper frustration.

“This bed barely fits one person, let alone two,” you shot back, your tone tighter than you intended.

He didn’t miss a beat, “You’re welcome to take the floor.”

It wasn’t a real suggestion, the teasing smirk in his voice was undeniable. You huffed, exasperated, letting out a frustrated sigh as the bed creaked under the smallest of movements. It was maddening—this small space, the constant proximity, his body so close that your nerves hummed with awareness. It wasn’t just frustration anymore. Your heart was racing, and not for reasons you wanted to admit.

Neither of you spoke for what felt like an eternity. The only sounds were your breathing and the ruffling of the duvet. Then Blade's voice sliced through that quiet like a knife. "You're too tense," he said, softer than before but with an edge. "Relax.”

You nearly laughed. Relax? In a bed this small, pressed up against him, with everything swirling between you? It was impossible. Instead, you shifted again, purposefully leaning just a little more into him, testing his patience.

He stiffened, just slightly. "Stop."

It wasn't an order, per se- more of a warning beneath the restraint of desire. The space between you was alive, humming with an unspoken something. Perhaps it was that frustrated buzz of being too close, or perhaps it was simply fatigue from the mission.

"I don't think either of us is getting any sleep tonight," you murmured.

Blade's response was a low grumble, his voice rougher than before. "You're right." Then, ever so slightly, he moved closer, closing the gap until you could feel the heat of his body right against yours again. That subtle shift was enough for your breath to catch in your throat, and the space between you began pulsating with something far more dangerous than mere proximity.

He shifted; his eyes razor-sharp as he spoke, his voice low, almost too calm. "If you're going to keep fidgeting, just say what it is you want.”

You shifted again, your body moving against his in a slow, deliberate motion. The air between you wasn’t just charged—it was thick with unspoken desires and the undeniable pull of him. His heat radiated against your back, his presence a magnetic force that sent a shiver cascading down your spine.

"I don’t know what I want," you murmured, your voice a betrayal. The words faltered under the weight of their lie, and you knew he heard it too. You did know and so did he.

Blade's eyes narrowed, his gaze nearly predatory. "Don't play games," he warned, his voice low.

You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against your ass, insistent and unmistakable. It sent an electric jolt right to your core, making your breath hitch. Knowing you did that to him-that you could make this cold, calculating man lose control-sent an electric thrill through you.

You bit your lip, fighting a moan as Blade's erection pressed even harder against your ass. The intense heat coming off his body seeped into your skin. You knew you should pull away, maintain the professional distance between, but temptation just proved too strong.

You arched your back, pushing against him. A low groan rumbled from his lips and you could feel his control slipping, his resolve crumbling under the weight of his need.

"Don't tease," he growled, low and rough with desire. His fingers gripped your skin, firm and possessive, leaving faint crescents in their wake. A warning, a promise. You should stop this—walk away before the fire consumes you both. But you didn’t. Instead, your body moved of its own accord, your back arching again, pressing your ass against him with deliberate insistence.

The low, guttural sound that escaped his lips was almost feral, reverberating through you and igniting something wild. Blade’s hand slid up your thigh, his fingertips grazing the edge of your shorts. You knew you should probably stop this but as his fingers hovered, promising more, the pull of temptation was too strong and you couldn’t push him away. You didn’t want to.

"Blade." you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His fingers curled around your thigh, jerking you closer. "Don't say my name like that," he growled, his voice low and rough with wanting. "Not unless you mean it."

You reached back deliberately, slowly, your hand finding his wrist. But instead of pushing him away, you pulled his hand higher, guiding his fingers to the damp heat between your legs. A low groan escaped his lips as he felt how wet you were, how much you wanted this.

Blade's fingers circled your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan. His touch was electric, making your body shake with need.

His fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance, and making you ache for more. You arched your back, pressing your ass harder against his bulge. The friction was maddening; the heat between your bodies was almost unbearable.

"Please," you whispered. The word slipped out before you could catch it. "Blade, please."

The low growl was his immediate response, and his fingers slipped inside you. "Fuck," he growled, sounding rough with desire. "You're so wet."

You gasped as Blade's fingers plunged deep inside you, your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he thrust his fingers in and out, setting a brutal pace that had you seeing stars.

"That’s it-" he purred, his voice low and rough, sending shivers skittering down your spine. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, the words a seductive growl. "Take what you need."

The thought of his cock filling you, made your head spin. Your hand moved instinctively, fingers fumbling in a desperate attempt to free his cock. Blade's breath caught as your fingers reached around to his cock, stroking him through the fabric of his pants. You turned in his arms, facing him now, his eyes were dark with lust as you straddled him. "I want you," you breathed.

His hands gripped your hips,  "Are you sure?" he growled, his voice rough with restraint.

You nodded, your lips skimming his.

His resolve shattered. You reached between your bodies, your hand slipping inside his pants to free him. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy in your hand, the tip slick with precum. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slowly, teasing him, delighting in the low, guttural sound that rumbled through his chest. Blade’s control cracked further as his hips jerked into your hand.

"I'm sure," you breathed, positioning yourself above him. "I want you to fuck me, Blade. I need it."

With that, you sank down onto him, taking his cock deep inside you in one smooth motion. A low moan tore from your throat at the sensation of being stretched and filled so completely. Blade's hands tightened on your hips, his fingers leaving bruises in their wake.

"Fuck," he growled, his head falling back against the pillow. "You feel so good."

You started to move, rising up and sinking back down, finding a rhythm that had sparks of pleasure shooting through your body with each thrust. Blade matched your movements, his hips snapping up to meet yours, driving himself deeper inside you.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin on skin, the bed creaking beneath you while you rode him.

"Harder," you demanded, your nails raking down his chest. "Fuck me harder."

Blade's response was to flip you onto your back, never once slipping out of you. He loomed over you, his eyes wild and hungry, his hips pistoning into you with a force that had the headboard slamming against the wall.

Your legs coiled around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, urging him to claim you fully. A moan tore from your lips, unbridled and desperate. "Yes," you gasped, your fingers clutching the sheets as his cock stretched and filled you, the sensation both overwhelming and addicting. "Don’t stop—just like that."

He silenced you with a bruising kiss, his mouth crashing against yours with a fervour that bordered on feral. His tongue danced against yours, matching the rhythm of his hips, exploring and claiming. You met him with equal hunger, your teeth grazing his bottom lip, the taste of copper blooming as you bit down. The sharp pain only seemed to drive him wilder.

Blade’s rhythm faltered for a moment, becoming chaotic, each thrust harder, deeper, as if he was losing control. His breath was ragged against your mouth, his groan reverberating low in his chest. "Fuck," he growled, the word guttural, strained, trembling with need. "I’m so close."

Your nails raked down his sweat-slicked back, leaving fiery trails along his skin. "Me too," you managed between breathless gasps, your body arching into him, seeking the climax coiling tight within you. "Don’t stop. Please don’t stop."

His movements turned punishing, each drive a collision of raw power and desperation, his body demanding your surrender. The pressure inside you built to a fever pitch, a tether about to snap. Blade’s voice cut through the haze, low and commanding, "Come for me, pretty girl."

Those words, spoken with such command, were enough to send you over the edge. Your body convulsed, your inner walls clamping down around Blade's cock as your orgasm crashed over you in waves of intense, overwhelming pleasure.

"Yes -God yes!" you cried out, your head thrown back.

Blade followed, his hips slamming into you one final time as his release overtook him. His guttural groan was almost primal, his cock throbbing inside you as he poured himself into you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as some of his cum dripped out, running down your thighs.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was of your mingled breaths. Your bodies shone with sweat, were entwined. His weight pressed you into the mattress, exhaustion in his muscles.

Blade’s lips brushed against your temple, softer now, a contrast to the raw passion that had consumed you both moments before. And as your heartbeats slowed, his presence became the only thing you knew—a warmth, a gravity, pulling you under.

Blade rolled onto his back beside you, his arm pulling you close. You snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest.

"That was..." you started, but words failed you.

Blade chuckled softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "It was."

༉ - 2.8k

The corridors are quieter than usual tonight, save for the faint echo of your footsteps and the sound of Sir Sunday’s armour as he walks beside you. You have done this many times before: this midnight escort from the ballroom to your chambers, accompanied by your knight. But there was something about tonight that felt different and maybe that’s because the event was hosted to find you a suitor.

The silence stretches, broken only by the soft rustle of your gown against the polished floor. His presence always feels heavier, and there's an edge to the air between you, something unsaid pressing against the confines of propriety.

"They were all good choices," Sunday says at last, in a low and even tone.

Your brow furrows. "Were they?"

He doesn't look at you as he replies. "I'd expect so. The court wouldn't invite anyone unworthy.".

You look over at him, catching the faint tension in his jaw. There's something restrained in the way he speaks tonight, something tightly wound beneath the surface. "And yet, I didn't choose any of them.".

He exhales sharply, the sound barely audible over his steps. “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

You slow your pace just enough that he has to adjust his stride to match. “Would you like to know them?”

His gaze flickers toward you briefly, a flash of gold under the dim light. “I doubt they’re for me to know, Your Highness.”

You stop to face him. The soft light casts shadows across his features, sharp and unreadable as always, but there’s something in his stance—a slight hesitation, the way his hand hovers just above the hilt of his sword—that betrays him.

"Maybe they are," you say, softer now, your voice barely enough to draw his attention fully.

For a moment, the distance between you feels insurmountable, though it's only a step or two. He doesn't speak, doesn't move, but his eyes search yours, as if trying to piece together what you're not saying aloud.

"I dismissed them all because none of them felt…" You pause, to think over the words. "....Right."

Sunday's grip tightens on the hilt of his sword. "You'll have to choose eventually," he says, deliberately keeping his voice neutral. "The court won't let you wait forever.".

"And what if I don't want to?"

The question hangs in the air, daring him to respond. You watch the flicker of something in his expression—surprise, perhaps, or maybe something deeper, something he’s worked too hard to keep buried.

“You’re the princess,” he says, but the words are softer this time, almost hesitant.

"And you're my knight," you reply, closing the distance.

He doesn't back up, but you notice the way his shoulders tense. "Exactly. And that is all I can be.".

Your breath catches at how his voice drops on the last word. There's no anger in it, no bitterness—only a quiet resignation.

"You think so, huh?" you whisper, not much louder than a whisper.

He turns away, tongue against his cheek. "I do."

You lift a hand before you can stop yourself, fingers brushing against the cold steel of his chest plate. The contrast between the armour and the warmth of the man beneath it sends a shiver through you. He freezes at the contact, his gaze snapping back to yours.

"Sunday…". His name is too familiar on your lips, but you can't stop.

"Don't." His voice is rough, but his hand rises, fingers curling loosely around your wrist. He doesn't pull you away, though; he doesn't move at all. "If you say anything else, I won't be able to forget it."

"Maybe I don't want you to."

The words have barely left your lips when he takes a step closer, erasing the distance between you. His eyes still remain so intense that they're pinning you in place, but there's a flicker of uncertainty there, too.

"This isn't a decision you can take lightly," he says in a low, hoarse voice.

"I already have."

He watches you, a silence building between you, gaining more and more weight with each passing second. Then, as if something inside him finally snaps, he lets go of your wrist only to frame your face with both hands.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his forehead against yours.

You don't.

His breath catches as you lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When you open them again, "I won't ask again," he whispers, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly that you are sure he can hear it. But you don't step back. You don't tell him to stop. You simply tilt your chin up, just a fraction, an invitation he doesn't need twice.

His lips brush against yours, tender at first, then pressing. It's the sort of kiss that seems like one great confession, revelation, and promise all at once. His hands move to the small of your back, drawing you closer, and you can't help but melt into him, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his tunic.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathing hard. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your stomach flip.

"We can't…" he begins, but the words are half-hearted, not very convincing.

"We can," you correct, your voice steadier than you feel.

He looks at you for a long moment, something fierce and tender warring in his expression. Then, with a low groan, he surges forward again, capturing your lips with his own. This kiss is harder, more urgent, and you can feel the way his body trembles against yours.

“Your chambers” he mumbles against your mouth. “Now.”

Without any warning, he sweeps you into his arms, cuddling you against his chest as he heads down the hall. Your heart races with the sudden motion, but you do nothing to protest it-merely wrapping your arms around his neck for balance.

The castle is quiet at this time of night, most people having gone to bed. You feel as though you have the whole world to yourselves as Sunday carries you swiftly through the halls, his footsteps echoing in the stillness.

He doesn’t wait around when you reach your chambers: he kicks the door shut behind you and pins you against it with his body, hands roaming over your curves, mapping out your form through the layers of your gown.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he growls, his lips trailing hot kisses along your jawline. “Wanted you.”

You arch into him, your head falling back as you let him in closer. "Then take me," you whisper, fingers curling in his hair.

He makes a low sound in his throat, something between a groan and a growl. His fingers find the fastenings of your dress and begin to undo them one by one, till the fabric pools at your feet. You stand before him clad in nothing other than your chemise, the thin material doing little to mask the signs of your body's reaction to his touch.

His gaze rakes over you, hungry and appreciative. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist.

He lifts you easily and sets you down on the bed. The sheets are cold against your bare skin as he lays you down, his body following yours, looking down at you with an intensity that takes the breath from your lungs.

"You sure about this?" he asks low, his voice rough with emotion.

You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," you whisper.

That seems to be the only confirmation he needs. He bends down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that sends a tide of heat through your body, his tongue plunging into your mouth to taste you thoroughly. You moan against his lips, your hands roving over his hard back.

His lips trail down your neck, tracing a path of fire in their wake. He pauses to suckle at your pulse point, and you can feel the way your heart races beneath his tongue. His hands slip under your chemise, and his calloused fingers skim the sensitive skin of your stomach.

"Sunday-" you gasp, arching into his touch.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “Just relax.”

You do your best to listen, focusing on the feel of his hands on your skin. He explores you at leisure, learning every dip and curve, every spot that makes you sigh or whimper. By the time he carefully removes your panties, you're trembling with need.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with wanting. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he says, his fingers teasing at your entrance.

"Don't-please-."

He pauses, his fingers stilling above your pussy. His eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. "Are you-" he starts, his voice soft.

You nod, knowing exactly what he’s going to ask, "I've never…”

His expression softens further, if that’s even possible. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. “We’ll take this slow.”

As you nod, he drops between your legs and his breath ghosts over your folds. He starts off slow, his tongue tracing delicate patterns and teasing you with light touches until, gradually, the pressure builds up, licking and sucking on your clit until you're gasping and writhing beneath him.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he works you with his mouth. He is patient, very attentive, judging by your reactions and modulating his technique accordingly. When you're trembling near the edge, he slips a finger inside you, then two, stretching you slowly.

"That's it," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin.

He groans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers through you. "You taste so fucking good," he mumbles, his words just a little slurred. "Can't get enough."

As he continues to lap at your clit, his free hand slides down his own body, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. You can hear the slick sound of skin on skin as he begins to stroke himself.

"Fuck," he gasps, his hips bucking into his hand. "Want to be inside you so badly."

He redoubles his efforts, his tongue delving deep, his fingers pumping faster. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you can feel your orgasm building, your inner walls starting to flutter around his fingers.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "Come for me, baby. I want to taste you."

With a few more well-placed licks, you're there, crying out as pleasure crashes over you in waves. He laps at your release, his own hand moving frantically over his cock, his groans muffled from where he’s buried himself against your folds.

He easily settles himself between your thighs, his cock at your entrance. His eyes were filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness as he looked down at you.

"You ready?" he asks, his voice low and rough.

You nod, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Yes," you whisper. "I'm ready."

With a low groan, he starts to push inside, slow and careful with his movements. There's only a slight sting as he pushes in deeper, his eyes widening in concern.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, his brow furrowed.

You shake your head, reaching up to cup his face. "No, I'm okay. Please, don't stop."

He searches your eyes for a moment, then nods, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

You can feel every inch of him as he stretches you, filling you in a way you never have been filled before; it's agonisingly slow, but he refuses to be selfish and make this about his own pleasure.

"Fuck," he gasps, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel incredible."

He gives you a moment to adjust, his hips pressed flush against yours. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and shallow at first. Each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you can't help but moan.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "Let me hear you."

He increases his pace gradually, his hands gripping your hips for leverage. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and cries.

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans. His tongue delves into your mouth, mimicking the rhythm of his hips.

"You're taking me so well," he praises, his breath hot against your ear. "Such a good girl."

His hips roll in a steady rhythm, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through you. One hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and thumbing your nipple. The dual sensations make you gasp into his mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, his eyes locked on yours. "So perfect."

He shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. You cry out as he hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you.

"There," he groans, doing it again. "Is that good?"

You can only nod, your nails digging into his back as he drives you higher and higher. The pleasure builds with each stroke, coiling tighter and tighter in your core.

He groans, his hips snapping forward as he buries himself deep inside you. "Fuck, angel," he pants, his voice strained with pleasure. "I love you. I've loved you for so long."

The confession bursts from his lips in something like prayer, and his eyes shine with its vehemence. It is as though a dam has burst inside him and all his pent-up feelings are pouring out in this moment.

"I know you're s'posed to pick one from the court," he goes on, his pistoning never flagging. "But don't. Please. Don't give yourself to anybody else."

His hands clamp down on your hips, fingers digging in soft. "Choose me," he begs, his voice cracking. "Be mine. Only mine."

You can almost feel the desperation in his words, the raw need. It's readily apparent how the thought of you with another man is tearing him apart.

"I'll do anything," he whispers, his forehead against yours. "Anything to keep you. Just say you'll be mine."

His words are like a warm bath washing over you, filling your heart full of something that has nothing to do with physical pleasure. In this moment, you know without a single doubt that you want to be his and his alone. 

"I'm yours," you breathe, legs wrapping around his waist. "Now and always." He surges forward, capturing your lips in a reverent, passionate kiss. He picks up speed, his hips moving faster, harder, as though he's trying to pour every ounce of love he has into you.

"I love you," he gasps against your mouth. "I love you so much."

His thrusts grow more erratic, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Fuck," he groans. "I'm close. So close."

You could feel him throbbing inside of you, his cock pulsing with each stroke. Your pleasure was mounting to a crescendo as well, your inner walls fluttering around him.

"Come with me," he pleads, voice ragged. "I want to feel you come undone." His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit. He rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, and that's all it takes. You cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking with the force of it. 

He follows a moment later, his hips stuttering as he spills himself deep inside you. He falls on top of you, his weight pinning you to the mattress. His cock still is buried deep inside, pulsating with aftershocks of his orgasm.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "That was... incredible," he murmurs, his voice muffled.

His arms wrap around you, holding you close. It's a protective gesture, as if he's afraid you might slip away if he lets go.

"Stay with me," he whispers, his lips brushing your pulse point. "Don't leave me."

You curl into him, relishing the feeling of his body against yours. "I'm not going anywhere," you promise. "I'm right here."

He sighs contentedly, his grip on you loosening slightly. "Good," he murmurs. "Because I don't think I could bear it if you married any of them."

You smile, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back. In this moment, everything feels right. The world outside might be chaos, but here, in his arms, you're safe. You're home.

༉ - 3.1k

Argenti sat on the floor of your dorm room, trying his best not to feel completely out of place. He’d been here a few times already—enough to recognise the familiar scent of citrus from the candles you always kept burning. But even so, it still felt a little surreal. You, the girl everyone at the university seemed to know and admire, had somehow invited him into your space.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. One night, a random chat at a party turned into shared laughs, then another conversation, until the two of you were talking long after your friends had left. Since then, you’d found reasons to hang out, even though it seemed to baffle everyone around you. You, the social butterfly, and him, the reserved guy who somehow ended up regularly meeting up with you outside of classes.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” you suddenly said, breaking the comfortable silence as you lounged on your bed.

“What’s weird?” Argenti asked, glancing up from the guitar pick he’d been absentmindedly fiddling with.

“Us.” You made a vague gesture between the two of you, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I mean, we’re just very different”

Argenti blinked, unsure of what you meant. Was it a good different? Or a bad one? “I—I guess,” he stammered, his voice unsure. “But it works, doesn’t it?”

You tilted your head, studying him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, it does,” you finally said, your smile softening. “You’re sweet, Argenti.”

“Thanks?” he mumbled, his face warming up. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but the compliment made him feel a little lighter.

You laughed at his blush suddenly wondering if there was a reason he became so flustered over small things. Sitting up, you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Argenti froze, his face going red in an instant. “Uh… why?”

You shrugged, clearly amused by his reaction. “Because you’ve got that look. You know, like you’ve thought about it a lot but never actually done it.”

“I don’t… have a look,” he muttered, but even his awkward attempt to brush it off didn’t work. “But no. I haven’t.”

Your eyes widened, and then you laughed—a genuine, playful laugh that felt more teasing than mean. “Wait, seriously? Not even like a dare or something?”

He shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at you. “No,” he mumbled, feeling heat crawl up his neck. “I just… never really had the chance.”

You didn’t let up. “You’re telling me you’ve gone your whole life without even one kiss?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” he blurted out, immediately regretting it. He winced, wishing he could take the words back.

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, the teasing gleam in your eyes shifting into something more playful. “Are you saying you want to change that?”

“I—I didn’t mean—” Argenti stammered, his face burning. But then your hand brushed lightly against his arm, and he looked up to find you studying him, a mysterious glint in your eyes.

“You want me to teach you?” you asked, your voice quiet now, though still carrying that playful edge.

His heart skipped a beat. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”

“Relax, Argenti,” you said, leaning in just a little closer. “I’m not doing this out of pity. Trust me, you’re a good looking guy, pretty face.”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or combust, but before he could say anything, you were already moving in, your gaze locked on his as you tilted your head. “Okay,” you murmured, voice soft. “Here’s how this works. Don’t overthink it. Just… follow my lead, alright?”

He nodded, his thoughts jumbled as he fought to find his bearings. Then your lips brushed against his—gentle, almost tentative, testing the waters. It was quick, almost too quick, and when you pulled away, you studied him with an amused expression, clearly pleased by the way he’d reacted.

Argenti’s mind spun for a moment, still reeling from the sudden soft pressure of your lips. But as your eyes met his again, something inside him clicked. The hesitation, the awkwardness—it all seemed so distant now. This was real, and there was no way he was going to let it slip away.

Without thinking, his hand rose to cup your cheek, gently pulling you toward him. His heart raced as the space between you vanished, and in a smooth motion, he leaned in again, this time with a newfound confidence.

The kiss came quickly, without hesitation, and it was unrestrained, still soft, but with a sense of urgency he hadn’t expected. He kissed you with intention now, the sweetness and eagerness spilling out in the way his lips moved against yours. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, pulling you just a little closer as if he wanted to lose himself in the moment. He’d never felt anything like this before.

The kiss wasn’t perfect. He stumbled a little, his lips not quite finding the rhythm, a few moments of clumsy movement as he tried to keep up. But in that imperfection, there was something pure. There was something real about it. Each time his lips brushed against yours, a little out of sync, you were patient, guiding him back.

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a seasoned kisser. He made up for it with sweetness—lingering just a little longer than necessary, his hand never leaving your cheek, as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. Each time he leaned back in, he was driven by a need to prove that he could do this, that he wanted to be here with you.

When he finally pulled back, his breath coming in shallow gasps, he couldn’t help but glance up at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he’d just run a marathon. His lips were swollen, and a nervous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “I probably messed that up.”

But when your gaze met his, there was no judgement, only amusement—and something softer, something deeper in your eyes.

“No,” you said gently, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “You didn’t mess it up. It was… sweet. Really sweet.”

Argenti’s heart did a flip at the praise, and the knot in his stomach began to loosen. “I just—wanted to do it right,” he admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to mess it up with you.”

You smiled, that familiar teasing gleam still in your eyes, but now with something warmer behind it. “Well, you didn’t. And if it helps, I think you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s just… practice.” You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling mischievously. “And maybe a little bit of confidence. But don’t worry, I’m happy to teach you.”

The words sent a thrill through him. “I think I could learn from you,” he said, his voice a little breathless, his smile genuine. He was starting to feel more at ease, less unsure of himself. “I don’t mind practising.”

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing across his cheek, sending another wave of warmth through him. “Good,” you said, your voice light but sincere. “Because I’m not letting you off that easily.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, eliminating any distance between your bodies.

He could feel the warmth of your skin through your clothes, could smell the faint scent of your perfume. It was dizzying, overwhelming in the best way. He lost himself in the sensation, in the taste of your lips, the softness of your mouth.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard. Argenti's eyes were dark, pupils dilated with desire. "I want..." he started, then faltered, unsure how to put the ache inside him into words.

"What do you want, Argenti?" you asked, your voice a husky whisper. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

"I want to touch you," he breathed, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "I want to see you" He swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet your gaze. "I want you."

He watched as your eyes searched his face, saw the moment understanding dawned. A slow, seductive smile spread across your lips, and your fingers tightened on his shirt. "Then show me what you want." you whispered, your voice low and sultry.

Argenti's breath caught, his body responding instantly to your words. Emboldened, he reached for you, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. Slowly, he lifted it, revealing inch after inch of smooth, warm skin. He drank in the sight of you, committing every curve and dip to memory.

When the shirt fell away, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat. You tilted your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips as his mouth moved lower, trailing kisses along your collarbone. His hands roamed your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra.

He could feel your heart racing beneath his touch, could hear the hitch in your breath as his fingers found the clasp of your bra. With a deft movement, he unhooked it, letting the garment fall away. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, naked from the waist up, your breasts full and perfect.

Unable to resist, he cupped one in his palm, marvelling at the feel of it, the softness. He thumbed your nipple, watching it pebble under his touch. Your breath hitched, and you arched into him, wordlessly encouraging him.

He took the hardened nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as he lavished attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing nips.

Your skin was hot beneath his hands, your body pliant and responsive. He could feel the heat building between your legs, could sense your arousal growing with each passing moment. It spurred him on, fuelled his own desire.

“Let me-” you whispered, wanting to help him out, noticing his obvious bulge.

Argenti's breath hitched as your hands moved to his belt, your fingers deftly working to undo the buckle. He watched, transfixed, as you slowly unzipped his jeans, your knuckles brushing against his straining erection.

He swallowed hard, his hips twitching involuntarily at the contact. "I want to make you feel good too," he managed to say, his voice rough with need.

You smiled, a wicked gleam in your eyes. "Patience," you purred, pushing his jeans and boxers down. His cock sprang free, hard and thick, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly from base to tip. Argenti groaned, his head falling back as pleasure coursed through him. "Fuck," he gasped, his hips bucking into your touch.

You increased your pace, your grip firm but gentle. Your other hand cupped his balls, rolling them in your palm. "It’s pretty" you murmured, your breath hot against his ear.

Argenti's heart raced as your hand worked him over, pleasure sparking through his veins with each stroke. His cock throbbed in your grip, the sensation almost too intense to bear.

"Your hand—it feels incredible," he panted, his voice strained with need.

You smiled, clearly enjoying the effect you were having on him. Your thumb swiped over the sensitive head, smearing the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there. You lowered your head, your tongue darting out to lick a long stripe up his shaft. Argenti's breath caught, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

You took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each descent. The wet heat of your mouth was exquisite, driving Argenti wild with pleasure. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping tightly as he fought the urge to thrust into you.

You hummed around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Argenti's grip on your hair tightened as you took him deeper, your throat constricting around his throbbing cock. The sensation was indescribable, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Pleasure built at the base of his spine, coiling tighter and tighter with each pass of your tongue.

He could feel his orgasm approaching, the tightening of his muscles. But he didn't want this to end, not yet. He wanted to savour every moment, every sensation.

He quickly pulled you off him, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. You looked up at him, your lips swollen, your eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

"I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you around me when I come."

You chuckle at his neediness as you lean across your bed, grabbing a condom from your drawer.

Argenti's eyes widened as you retrieved a condom from your drawer, a mix of anticipation and nerves fluttering in his stomach. He watched as you tore open the packet and then rolled the condom onto his cock, your fingers brushing against his sensitive skin, making him shudder.

Once the condom was in place, you turned around, giving Argenti a tantalising view of your ass as you bent over slightly. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, revealing your pussy to him.

Argenti's mouth went dry at the sight, his cock twitching with renewed interest. He stepped forward, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he pressed himself against you. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin.

Argenti's hands trembled slightly as he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his condom-sheathed cock nudging against your slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, beckoning him to plunge inside.

"I've never done this before," he admitted softly, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and excitement. "I want to do it right. I want to make you feel good."

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, a reassuring smile on your lips. "Just go slow," you murmured, reaching back to guide him forward. "And don't worry about doing it perfectly. Just focus on how it feels."

Argenti nodded, taking a deep breath as he began to push forward. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced - the tight heat of your pussy enveloping him, drawing him deeper. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he savoured the feeling. Inch by inch, he sank into you, until he was buried to the hilt.

Argenti bit down on his lip, fighting the urge to come right then and there. The sensation of being inside you was overwhelming, your tight heat gripping him like a vice. He could feel every flutter of your walls around his cock, every pulse of your arousal.

"Shit-” he gasped, his hips twitching involuntarily.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. He wanted this to last, wanted to make it good for you.

Slowly, carefully, he began to move, pulling out until just the tip remained inside before sliding back in. He set a steady rhythm, rocking into you with deep, measured strokes. Your moans filled the room, spurring him on. He could feel your body responding to his, your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts.

"Is this good?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Your reassuring moans and the way your body moved against his told Argenti all he needed to know. He continued to thrust, gradually increasing his pace as he grew more confident.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your breathy gasps and his low groans. Sweat beaded on his brow as he lost himself in the sensation, in the feel of your body beneath his. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in his core. But he held back, determined to make sure you reached your peak first.

His hand slid around your hip, finding your clit. He rubbed in slow circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Argenti's fingers worked your clit in time with his thrusts, the dual stimulation driving you closer to the edge. He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around him as your pleasure mounted.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice low and rough. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

Your moans grew louder, more urgent, and Argenti knew you were close. He redoubled his efforts, thrusting harder, faster, his fingers circling your clit with increasing pressure.

Suddenly, your back arched, your head thrown back in ecstasy as your orgasm crashed over you. Your pussy clenched around him, rippling along his cock, and Argenti groaned, the sensation pushing him over the brink.

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he came hard. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, his vision whiting out as he rode out the intensity of his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both lost in the aftermath of your shared climax. Finally, Argenti slipped out of you, disposing of the condom before collapsing beside you on the bed. He turned his head to look at you, a lazy smile on his lips.

Argenti's heart swelled at the gentle press of your lips against his forehead. The simple, tender gesture spoke volumes, conveying a depth of care and affection that he'd never experienced before.

He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulled you down for a soft, lingering kiss. It was different from the heated passion of before, this kiss. It was sweet, almost chaste, a physical manifestation of the connection growing between you.

When you pulled away, he gazed into your eyes, his own shining with a mix of contentment and wonder.

“You’re a natural.” you joke with a soft laugh as you wrap your arms around him.

Argenti chuckled, the sound deep and rich as he rested his head against your chest. "I think I'm a quick learner."

༉ - 2.5k

The casino floor was alive with energy, especially  at your table. You and Aventurine had been on a streak for so long it was starting to turn heads. Chips piled up in neat stacks in front of you both, the gleam of gold and the scent of success making the night feel almost unreal.

“Another win,” Aventurine announced casually as the dealer slid another stack his way. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned back in his chair, the picture of effortless cool. “But let’s be real here. This run? It’s all because of me. Clearly, I’m your lucky charm.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms as you gave him an incredulous look. “You’re my lucky charm? I think you’ve got that backwards. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

He chuckled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Oh, is that how it is? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’ve been carrying this team all night.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Carrying? Please. I’m pretty sure the only thing you’ve carried is that overinflated ego of yours.”

Aventurine laughed, a low, warm sound that sent a pleasant thrill up your spine. He tilted his head, his gaze locking with yours in a way that made your pulse quicken. “You talk a big game for someone who wouldn’t be winning without me. Admit it—you’re having fun because I’m here.”

You leaned in closer, matching his energy. “Oh, absolutely,” you said, voice dripping with mock sincerity. “It’s so much fun watching you pretend you’re the reason we’re winning when we both know who’s really the lucky one here.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, the playful challenge in them unmistakable. “Careful, or I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”

You grinned, tapping a finger on the table. “What can I say? You’re entertaining, like a fancy slot machine with nice hair.”

Aventurine barked a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “A slot machine? That’s the best you’ve got?” He leaned even closer, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“And you love it,” you said with a wink, surprising even yourself with the boldness of your words.

Aventurine’s grin widened, his eyes glinting as he tilted his head slightly. “You know what? You might be right. Guess I’ve got a weakness for confident types.”

The air between you shifted, the playful banter taking on a sharper edge. You refused to back down, instead, you leaned in, your faces just inches apart now.

“Careful, Aventurine,” you said, your voice soft but laced with teasing. “If you keep flirting like that, I might start thinking you’re not just here for the gambling.”

His gaze flicked to your lips for just a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes, his smirk now decidedly more dangerous. “Maybe I’m not.”

The tension between you and Aventurine was electric, the noise of the casino fading into a distant hum. His smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with mischief and something more daring. Slowly, deliberately, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, metallic keycard.

He twirled it between his fingers like it was a chip, the move impossibly smooth. “You’re good at reading between the lines,” he said, his voice low and inviting. “Think you can figure out what this means?”

Your gaze flicked to the keycard, then back to his face, your heart pounding as your brain scrambled for a witty retort. “Oh, I don’t know,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Looks like you’re trying to skip ahead in the game. Aren’t you supposed to take me out to dinner first?”

Aventurine chuckled, the sound rumbling and warm. He slid the card across the table, stopping it just in front of your hand.

You picked up the card slowly, holding it between your fingers as if weighing your options. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he said smoothly, leaning back with a confidence that was infuriatingly attractive. “Unless you count spending more time with me. But if that’s too much of a gamble, I’d understand.”

He collected his chips as he stood up, leaving the table, “Don’t keep me waiting too long. Wouldn’t want that luck to run out, now would we?”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you stood, slipping the card into your pocket. “Not a chance.”

—

You locate the room number on the keycard and slide it into the lock. The door swings open to reveal a spacious suite, all sleek lines and modern decor, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city lights below.

Aventurine is leaning against the wall by the window, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He turns as you enter, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

"I wasn't sure if you'd actually show," he says, his voice a low purr. "But I'm glad you did."

You close the door behind you, turning to face him fully. "And miss an opportunity like this? Not a chance."

He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between you with a few easy strides. "Opportunity for what, exactly?" he asks, his gaze roaming over your features with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

You meet his eyes boldly, refusing to be intimidated. "For whatever you have planned," you say, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart.

Aventurine's lips curve into a smirk, his hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw with a feather-light touch. "Careful what you wish for," he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your skin. "You might just get it."

Your pulse races at his touch, desire and anticipation coiling tightly in your belly. "Promises, promises," you breathe, tilting your head into his palm.

His answering chuckle is dark and full of promise. "Oh, I always keep my promises," he says, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

And then his lips are on yours, hot and demanding, and you're lost in the taste and feel of him, the world falling away until there's nothing but the two of you, caught up in a dance.

You melt into the kiss, your hands coming up to tangle in Aventurine's hair, pulling him closer as you press your body against his. He responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours.

He tastes of whiskey and sin, and you can't get enough. Your fingers slip under the hem of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest beneath your palms. He groans into your mouth, his hips pressing forward to grind against you, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal.

"Bedroom," he rasps against your lips, his voice rough with desire.

You nod, breathless and wanting, allowing him to lead you towards the bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind you, then spins you around, pinning you against it with his body. His hands are everywhere, slipping under your clothes to stroke heated skin, his mouth trailing fire along your neck.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growls, nipping at your earlobe. "I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."

Your breath hitches as Aventurine's hands roam your body, his touch setting your skin ablaze with desire. You arch into him, craving more, needing to feel every inch of him against you.

He groans, low and primal, his hips grinding harder against yours. His hands slip under your shirt, pushing it up and off, leaving you bare from the waist up. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes dark with lust.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curves of your breasts. He leans down, his mouth hot against your skin as he kisses a trail down your sternum, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipple.

You gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. "Please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for, only knowing that you need more, need him.

He chuckles, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love," he purrs, his hands sliding down to pop the button of your jeans. "We've got all night."

And then he's on his knees in front of you. He looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes hooded and full of promise.

"Let me taste you," he murmurs, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your jeans.

You nod mutely, your heart pounding in your chest as Aventurine slowly slides your jeans down your legs, his hands caressing your skin as he goes. He tosses them aside carelessly, leaving you in nothing but your panties, which are already damp with arousal.

He leans forward, his breath hot against your panties. "You're so wet for me already," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the damp spot. "I've barely touched you, and you're dripping."

You squirm under his touch, desperate for more. "Please," you whimper, your hands fisting in his hair. "I need..."

"Shh," he soothes, placing a kiss over your clothed pussy, licking a stripe along your covered slit. "I know what you need. Just relax and let me take care of you."

And then he's pulling your panties aside, his fingers stroking through your slick folds. You gasp, your hips bucking into his touch. He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin.

"So responsive," he praises, circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. "I can't wait to taste you."

And then his mouth is on you, his tongue delving between your folds, lapping at your essence. You cry out, your head falling back against the door as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He works you skilfully, his tongue alternating between broad strokes and targeted flicks against your clit. His fingers join in, pumping in and out of you, curling to hit that spot inside that makes you see stars.

Your legs tremble as Aventurine's skilled mouth works you over, his tongue delving deep, lapping at your essence. The pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Aventurine," you gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair, pressing his face harder against your aching pussy. "I'm... I'm going to-"

He moans in response, the vibrations sending you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, your vision whiting out as ecstasy consumes you. You grind against his face, riding out the waves of pleasure, his name a broken cry on your lips.

He doesn't stop, prolonging your climax, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to wring every last drop of pleasure from your body. Finally, you collapse back against the door, boneless and sated, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Aventurine rises, his face glistening with your arousal. He licks his lips, his eyes dark with hunger. "So sweet," he purrs, his voice rough. "I could do that forever.”

You can only moan in response, your body still thrumming with aftershocks. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He takes your hand, leading you to the bed, pushing you down onto the plush mattress. He crawls over you, his body covering yours, his weight pressing you into the sheets.

"I need to be inside you," he growls, his hips grinding against yours, letting you feel the hard length of him through his pants. "I need to feel you wrapped around me, squeezing me.”

You reach down, fumbling with the button of his pants, desperate to free his cock. He helps you, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to spring free, his erection bobbing against your stomach.

"Please," you whimper, wrapping your hand around him, stroking the velvety soft skin. "I need you, too. I need to feel you stretch me, fill me."

He groans, his hips thrusting into your hand. "Fuck, you're killing me," he pants, reaching down to position himself at your entrance.

With a single, powerful thrust, Aventurine pushes his cock all the way inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your body struggles to adjust to his size. He stills, giving you a moment to acclimate, his forehead resting against yours.

"Breathe," he murmurs, his hips flexing slightly, sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Just breathe, love. I've got you."

You take a shuddering breath, your inner walls fluttering around him. Slowly, you begin to move, rocking your hips against his, urging him deeper. He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he starts to thrust, setting a slow, deep rhythm.

"You feel incredible," he pants, his lips brushing against your ear. "I could stay buried inside you forever and die happy."

You clench around him, relishing the feel of him stretching you, filling you. "More," you demand, your nails digging into his back.

He laughs breathlessly, complying with your request, his hips snapping against yours with increased force. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust.

Aventurine's thrusts grow more erratic, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as he nears his peak. His hands grip your hips bruisingly, holding you in place as he pounds into you, the force of his thrusts pushing you up the bed.

"Come with me," he demands, his voice a guttural growl. "I want to feel you come undone around my cock."

Your body tenses, your inner walls fluttering around him as your orgasm approaches. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he finds his release.

The feel of him coming inside you is enough to push you over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows you, his hips jerking as he spills his cum deep within you.

You collapse back against the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Aventurine follows suit, laying down beside you. He leans over peppering your face with soft kisses, his hands stroking your hair, your back, your sides. "You’re beautiful" he murmurs, his voice soft with satisfaction.

You smile, turning your head to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "You're not so bad yourself," you tease, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his sweat-slicked skin.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours. "I aim to please," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And I'm not done with you yet, love. Not by a long shot."

You shiver at the promise in his words, your body already stirring with renewed desire. "Is that so?" you ask, arching an eyebrow. "And what exactly did you have in mind?" 

His grin is wicked, his eyes gleaming in the low light. "Oh, I think you'll find out soon enough.”

༉ - 2.8k

Topaz’s flat was warm and inviting, the perfect spot to unwind for a casual evening. Soft amber light spilled across the room, casting a cosy glow  that made the space feel like home. Somewhere in the background, faint music played  that blended perfectly with the gentle clinking of glasses and low chatter.

“We’ll be right back,” Aventurine called out, with Topaz trailing close behind as they disappeared toward the kitchen.

You had settled comfortably into the corner of the sofa, a glass of wine in hand and Veritas lounging beside you. Tonight, he seemed different—relaxed in a way you rarely saw. His shirt was unbuttoned, his tie discarded, and his usually immaculate hair slightly mussed, as though he’d finally let the weight of the day slip away.

The air between you buzzed with the kind of easy familiarity that only came with years of friendship, though tonight there was something else–.

“Another top-up?” Veritas asked, his voice smoother and slower than usual as he reached for the wine bottle on the low table. Without waiting for an answer, he topped off your glass and then poured more into his own.

“You’re a terrible influence,” you teased, though you made no move to stop him. “If I wake up with a headache tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”

He smirked, swirling his wine with an air of mock innocence. “I’d argue it’s your fault for being such agreeable company.”

The words lingered, their meaning sharper than his usual dry humour. You glanced down at your glass, suddenly unsure what to say. Was it the wine, or was there something more in his tone tonight?

“Quiet now, are we?” he teased, leaning in just slightly. “You’re usually quicker with a retort.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Just giving you a moment to bask in your supposed wit.”

His chuckle was low and warm, the kind of sound that settled somewhere deep in your chest. His knee grazed yours, a light touch that didn’t feel accidental. When you shifted slightly, his arm brushed against yours and lingered, just enough to make you wonder if he’d noticed it too.

“I’ve always admired that about you,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Admired what?” you asked, your pulse quickening.

“You have this way of making even the most tedious conversations feel alive.” His eyes softened, and for a moment, he wasn’t the sharp, collected man you knew so well. “Though I don’t think this moment qualifies as tedious, does it?”

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “No. It doesn’t.”

Neither of you moved for a moment. His hand found yours, his fingers warm and steady, and though the gesture caught you off guard, you didn’t pull away. His thumb traced slow circles over your skin, sending a rush of heat up your arm.

“Veritas—” you began, but your voice faltered.

“Too much?” he asked gently, his brows drawing together, as if he was ready to let go at the slightest hint of hesitation.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Not too much.”

His shoulders relaxed, and the faintest trace of a smile appeared on his lips. He shifted closer, his arm sliding along the back of the sofa until his fingers brushed your shoulder. The scent of his cologne—something crisp with a faint warmth beneath it—lingered in the space between you, making your head swim.

The world beyond the sofa seemed to fade. His presence filled the room, his thumb still tracing light, deliberate circles on your hand. When his fingers grazed your neck, their touch feather-light, you couldn’t help the shiver that ran through you.

“You’ve gone quiet again,” he murmured, his tone both teasing and earnest. “Should I be worried?”

You turned to face him, and suddenly his face was so close to yours. His gaze locked onto yours, and your breath hitched. It felt impossible to look away.

“Not worried,” you managed softly. “Just… thinking.”

“Dangerous,” he quipped, though his voice held less humour now. His hand shifted, brushing along the curve of your jaw. His touch was barely there, yet it lit up every nerve. “Care to share?”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t know what to say, but because the words carried weight. “I was thinking,” you said slowly, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart, “that you don’t seem as restrained as usual tonight.”

A flicker of something—surprise, maybe—passed across his face before he smirked. But it wasn’t his usual teasing smirk; it was softer, quieter, like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. “Restraint,” he murmured, “has its time and place. And this… doesn’t feel like one of them.”

The charged silence between you was almost unbearable. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you plenty of time to stop him, but you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, the kiss was gentle and tentative, like he was testing the waters. It was fleeting, yet it left your heart racing. His hand slipped to your jaw, steady and warm as he kissed you again, this time with more certainty.

You melted into him, your hands coming to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was fast beneath your palms, and when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“We should…” His voice was rough now, laced with restraint. “Move somewhere more private.”

Your heart jumped at the suggestion, and you nodded, your voice barely audible. “Yeah.”

He stood smoothly, his hand slipping into yours as he cast a quick glance toward the kitchen. When he was sure your friends were still out of sight, he guided you down the hallway. His touch was firm, grounding, but there was a tenderness in the way his thumb brushed over your knuckles.

At the end of the hall, he paused outside a closed door. His free hand found the handle, turning it slowly. The hinge creaked softly as he pushed the door open, revealing the spare bedroom. He guided you inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The room was small but cosy, with a large window that let in a silver glow.

Veritas turned to face you, his expression a blend of uncertainty and desire. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "We can stop if you want to."

His words were sincere, giving you an out if you needed it. But the way his eyes roamed over your face, the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours, betrayed his own longing.

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you. "I'm sure," you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your palm, and you marvelled at the softness of his stubble against your fingers.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When he opened them again, they were dark with want.

He captured your mouth in a searing kiss. It was nothing like the tentative brush of lips from earlier. This time, there was no holding back. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the firmness of his muscles.

You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. He tasted of wine and something uniquely him - a flavour you knew you'd crave forever. His tongue teased your lower lip before delving into your mouth, exploring and claiming with a passion that left you breathless.

Slowly, he walked you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged as he looked down at you. "Tell me you want this," he breathed, his hands settling on your hips. "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

The words were a plea, a confession. In this moment, the usually composed and controlled Veritas Ratio was laid bare before you, vulnerable and wanting. Your heart swelled with affection and desire.

"I want this," you whispered, your hands sliding up his chest to link behind his neck. "I need you. Please, Veritas..."

His name on your lips seemed to break the last of his restraint. With a groan, he kissed you again, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

It wasn’t long before Veritas' fingers deftly worked at the zipper on his trousers, his movements quick yet precise, revealing the bulge straining against his underwear. With a deft tug, he freed his cock, the hard length springing forth, already flushed and throbbing with need.

He stepped back slightly, giving you a moment to take in the sight of him. Moonlight spilled across his body, highlighting the contours of his muscles, the defined lines of his abs. His cock was long, with a prominent vein on the underside.

You wasted no time, sinking to your knees before him. The plush carpet cushioned your knees, but you barely noticed. His cock jutted out, hard and proud, the tip glistening with pre-cum in the moonlight.

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for him, fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft. He was hot and heavy in your grasp, the skin velvety soft over the rigid flesh beneath. You stroked him slowly, savouring the weight of him, the way he twitched and throbbed against your palm.

Veritas groaned, his head falling back as he savoured your touch. "God," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "Feels so good-”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, stoking the fire building in your core. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. The taste of him exploded across your tongue, salty and musky, uniquely him.

Emboldened, you took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. He was big, filling your mouth completely, but you revelled in it. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head.

"Fuck," Veritas gasped, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Just like that, baby. Take me deeper."

You obeyed, relaxing your throat as you pushed forward, taking him inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you held him there, your nose pressed against his pelvis, breathing in his scent.

Veritas’ grip on your hair tightened, his hips rocking forward slightly. "God, sweetheart," he moaned, his voice strained. "You're incredible."

The praise washed over you, spurring you on. You bobbed your head, setting a steady rhythm as you worked him with your mouth. Your hands slid down to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm.

Veritas' hand cupped the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you further down his shaft. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take all of me."

You complied eagerly, relaxing your throat as you pushed forward until your nose nestled against his pelvis. The scent of him filled your senses, musky and intoxicating. You held him there, savouring the weight of him on your tongue, the way he throbbed against your palate.

"God, beautiful-" Veritas gasped, his hips rocking forward slightly. "You're so good at this. So fucking perfect."

His words sent a thrill through you, stoking the heat building in your core. You pulled back slowly, letting him slide from your mouth with a lewd pop. Strings of saliva connected your lips to his cock, glistening in the moonlight.

"Touch yourself," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I want to see you get off while you suck my cock."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but you didn't hesitate. Your hand slid beneath your skirt. You were already soaked, your panties clinging to your skin.

You circled your clit with your fingertip, gasping at the jolt of pleasure that shot through you. Ratio watched with hooded eyes, his cock twitching in your grip.

"That's it, baby," he urged, his hand guiding your head as you took him back into your mouth. "Make yourself feel good. I want to hear you moan around my cock."

You obeyed, increasing the pressure of your fingers as you sucked him deeper. Your other hand came up to fondle his balls, rolling them gently in your palm. The combined sensations were overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge with each passing second.

Veritas’ breath came in short, sharp gasps as you worked him with your mouth and hands. His cock throbbed against your tongue, the veins along the shaft pulsing with need. You could tell he was getting close, his hips rocking faster, his grip on your hair tightening.

Suddenly, he pulled you off him, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. "As much as I love your mouth," he panted, his eyes dark with lust, "I need to be inside you."

You nodded eagerly, your heart racing at the thought. He helped you to your feet, his hands roaming over your curves appreciatively. With a swift motion, he pushed your skirt up around your waist and tugged your panties down your thighs.

Veritas gently pushed you back onto the bed, his eyes roaming over your body with undisguised hunger. "Always been so pretty" he murmured, his hands skimming up your thighs to your hips.

He settled between your legs, the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You could feel his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. Slowly, he pushed forward, stretching you open around him.

You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed. He was so big, filling you completely. He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move, his hips rocking in a steady rhythm.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder.

His words sent shivers down your spine, stoking the fire building in your core. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. He obliged, his thrusts growing harder, faster.

The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke. Veritas' hands gripped your hips, his fingers leaving bruises on your skin. But you didn't mind the pain, not when pleasure was coursing through your veins like liquid fire.

Despite the intense sensations coursing through your body, you bit your lip, muffling your moans and gasps. The thought of Aventurine and Topaz hearing you in the other room was enough to keep you silent, even as Veritas’ thrusts grew harder, deeper.

He seemed to sense your restraint, his eyes locking with yours in the darkness. "Don't hold back," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I want to hear you.”

You shook your head, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You couldn't risk it, couldn't bear the thought of your friends walking in and catching you in such a compromising position.

Veritas frowned slightly, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, swallowing your silent cries of pleasure.

His hips never stopped moving, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body. You could feel your climax building, getting closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his pace quickening, his breath coming in harsh pants against your ear.

"Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Let go. I've got you."

His words were your undoing. With a muffled cry, you came undone, your body convulsing beneath him as you gushed around his cock. Veritas quickly pulled out, his cum shooting out and splattering on your folds.

You lay there in the aftermath, your chest heaving, your limbs trembling. He  collapsed on top of you, his weight a welcome comfort.

Slowly he rolled off you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He pulled you close, your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his heart racing, matching the pounding of your own.

He kissed your shoulder softly. "We should probably get cleaned up and head back out there," he said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "Before Aventurine and Topaz come looking for us."

You nodded, leaning in to kiss him one last time before reluctantly pulling away from his warmth.

༉ - 2.5k

The training grounds hummed with the steady rhythm of swords meeting swords, the sharp ring of steel echoing in the air. You were lost in the rhythm, your every move precise as you worked through the drills Jing Yuan had set for you.

The weight of the training session was starting to catch up with you—your muscles burning, sweat trickling down your back—but you refused to stop. His gaze was always on you, but today, there was something about it that made your heart race a little.

Jing Yuan was a study in effortless grace, each movement fluid and controlled as he parried your strikes. His hair shimmered in the sunlight. His composure was unmatched—he never seemed to break a sweat, even when you were struggling to keep up. And yet, his every motion felt like a reminder that you still had so much to learn.

“You’re improving,” he said suddenly, his voice a smooth, unwavering contrast to the intensity of the training. He dodged your strike so easily it was as if he already knew it was coming. “But you’re still too tense. Stop thinking so much- Let your instincts take over.”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words. You couldn’t quite explain it, but his praise always felt so... personal. It was like he wasn’t just teaching you how to fight; he was seeing something deeper. And you hated how giddy that made you feel.

The practice continued, but with each passing moment, it became harder to focus. Every glance he gave you seemed to leave you a little more flustered, his every compliment a spark that made your heart flutter. You tried to shake it off, to stay in the moment, but your movements became a little less fluid.

“That’s better,” he said again, his eyes narrowing as he watched you catch your breath. “You have the power. You just need to learn to channel it.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your skin. It wasn’t that you weren’t good at sword fighting, but when Jing Yuan spoke to you like that, it felt different. His words were a quiet evaluation, but they made your heart feel exposed, as though he was seeing right through you.

Minutes blended together in a haze of quick movements and hurting muscles. The sweat on your forehead trickled, and you could feel the strain in your arms and legs, but you pushed yourself harder, determined not to disappoint him. Finally, when the session was over, you dropped your sword, your breathing heavy.

"That's enough for today," Jing Yuan said, his voice quiet yet imperative as he stepped toward you. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the fatigue in your eyes, the way you were trying to steady your breathing. "You have worked hard.

You managed a small smile, though the weight of the session left you feeling drained. "I'm fine," you said, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. You weren't sure if you were convincing anyone, least of all him.

He studied you a moment longer, his sharp eyes picking up the subtle signs: the way you were holding your breath, the way your hands trembled ever so slightly. With a soft sigh, he leaned in closer, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. The touch was light, but it sent a ripple of warmth through you, and you couldn't quite keep the flutter from your chest.

"Let me check you over-" he said, his voice dropping an octave soft yet purposeful. "make sure you're not hurt."

The words should’ve been routine, should’ve been just another part of the training, but the closeness between you, the way his gaze lingered a little longer than usual, made everything feel different. His touch was so careful as he ran his hands over your arms, your shoulders, your ribs—light and methodical, almost as if he were memorising every detail of you. Each brush of his fingers sent sparks through your skin, and you had to force yourself to breathe normally.

“Does this hurt?” His fingers pressed against a sore spot near your ribs where you'd taken a hit earlier.

You gasped softly, the breath catching in your throat, before shaking your head. "It's a little sore.

His eyes softened, a glint of concern in them as he regarded you, yet there was something else, too-something more than mere mentorship. The air between you grew thick with unspoken tension, not exactly teacher and student, but something else entirely. His presence overwhelmed you; the way he watched you-also so intense-made it even harder to think clearly.

Before you could catch yourself, your fingers grazed his chest-just the lightest touch, but it felt like an electric jolt went through you. The space between you contracted, and the pull you'd been fighting became too much. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a fleeting, impulsive kiss.

The world seemed to stop for that second, and then Jing Yuan froze. His body stiffened, and for a second you thought you'd made a terrible mistake. But when he pulled back, his expression wasn't anger or confusion-it was soft, searching. His gaze lingered on your face, as if he were trying to understand the emotions swirling there.

You stepped backward in haste, heat flooding your face as you muttered, "I- I didn't mean-"

But before you could get the words out, his hand was cupping your cheek, his touch warm and comforting. His thumb stroked your skin with soft gentleness-a motion that made your heart thud. "Don't apologise," he said, his voice soft, low-assuring. "You don't have to be sorry."

The air between you seemed to thicken with the weight of the moment. Jing Yuan leaned in just slightly, giving you space to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You stood there, your heart racing in your chest, the tension building with each breath you took.

“I think…” he began, his voice a little quieter, “you’re not the only one who’s been holding back.”

Your breath caught in your throat. That was all he needed to say, and in that moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. The spark between you wasn’t one-sided. And maybe this was the beginning of something neither of you had expected.

Slowly, hesitantly, you reached up to cover his hand with your own, pressing it more firmly against your cheek. "Then what’s stopping us?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jing Yuan's eyes darkened at your words, a flash of hunger in their depths. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded, your eyes locked on his, unable to look away. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

With those words, Jing Yuan closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate, desperate kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you.

You melted into him, your arms winding around his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervour. The world spun around you, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of his lips on yours, the scent of his skin, the sound of his ragged breathing.

You felt yourself being pulled into Jing Yuan's embrace, your bodies pressing together as the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passion that left you breathless. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as you lost yourself in the sensation of his touch, his taste, his very essence.

Time seemed to stand still, the rest of the world fading away until there was nothing but the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms. Jing Yuan's hands roamed over your back, your sides, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake. You arched into him, craving more of his touch.

Jing Yuan broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was a flicker of concern there too. "We should move somewhere more private," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "There are too many prying eyes here."

You nodded, your heart still racing as you glanced around the training grounds. He was right. Anyone could stumble upon you like this, could see the way you were clinging to each other, the way your lips were swollen from his kisses. The thought sent a thrill through you, even as it filled you with a sense of urgency.

Jing Yuan took your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours as he led you away from the training grounds. You followed him willingly, your steps quick and eager, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his touch. He led you through the winding paths of the gardens, past flowering bushes and babbling fountains, until you reached a secluded grove hidden behind a curtain of willow branches.

As soon as you were out of sight, Jing Yuan pulled you into his arms once more, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fisting in his hair as you kissed him back. His hands roamed over your body, slipping beneath your clothes to caress the heated skin beneath.

Your hands fumbled with the fastenings of Jing Yuan's robes, your fingers shaking with a mix of anticipation and nerves. He helped you, his own hands working to remove your clothing with a practised ease that belied his gentle touch. Soon, the fabric fell away, leaving you both bare in the dappled sunlight filtering through the willow branches.

Jing Yuan's eyes roamed over your body, his gaze appreciative as he drank in the sight of you. "You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. His hands skimmed over your curves, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Your fingers trailed over the hard planes of his chest, the defined muscles of his abdomen, marvelling at the feel of his skin beneath your palms.

Jing Yuan groaned at your touch, his hips pressing forward to grind against yours. You could feel his cock, hot and insistent against your stomach, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. Your own body responded in kind, aching and throbbing with a need that was almost painful in its intensity.

His lips found your neck, his teeth nibbling, and tongue leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you lost yourself in the sensation. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you harder against him, the friction delicious and maddening all at once.

"Jing Yuan," you gasped, your voice breathy and needy. "Please..."

His response was to lift you up, wrapping your legs around him as he carried you. Jing Yuan pressed you against the cool stone wall of the garden, his body pinning you in place as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. Your legs tightened around his waist, drawing him closer, craving more of his touch.

He held you up with one arm as the other delved lower, his fingers finding your pussy. You were already wet, your body ready for him, and he groaned at the feeling. "So ready for me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "So perfect."

His fingers circled your clit, teasing and stroking, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You rocked your hips against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. Jing Yuan obliged, his fingers sliding lower to dip inside you, stretching you, preparing you for what was to come.

You could feel him, hard and heavy, pressing against your entrance. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body trembling with need. "Please," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you."

Jing Yuan's eyes met yours, "I've got you," he promised, his voice low and husky. And with that, he pushed forward

Jing Yuan’s cock pushed inside you slowly, carefully, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your face for any sign of discomfort. You could feel every inch of him as he stretched you, filled you, your body adjusting to his size. It was a delicious burn, a sweet ache that only made you want more.

"Dove," he breathed, the pet name a reverent whisper on his lips. His hips pressed forward, burying himself deeper inside you, and you couldn't hold back the moan that escaped. "So tight," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips for support. "So perfect."

You clung to him, meeting his thrusts. The pleasure was immense, overwhelming, and you could feel yourself already teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Jing Yuan's thrusts grew harder, faster, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he lost himself in the feel of you.

His thrusts grew more urgent, more demanding, as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. His hips slammed against yours, driving into you with a force that had you seeing stars. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

Jing Yuan's lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he drove into you harder, deeper. His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, circular motions. The added stimulation was too much, and you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of pure, blinding ecstasy.

"Atta girl," Jing Yuan growled, his voice strained with his own impending release.

Your walls clenched around him, milking his length as you rode out the aftershocks of your climax. Jing Yuan followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he emptied himself inside you, ropes of cum spilling inside you.

As the final waves of your shared ecstasy subsided, Jing Yuan held you close, his body still intimately connected with yours. He peppered your face with soft, tender kisses, his hands gently stroking your hair and caressing your back. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the heated passion that had just consumed you both.

"Think that was a good training session" he joked, his voice low and content.

You couldn't help but laugh, a breathless, giddy sound that bubbled up from your chest. "I think that was the best training session I've ever had," you replied, your words laced with a mix of humour and sincerity.

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

© lovesculprit → do not copy or translate any of my works

[protect-namine]

this post is about qiao ling. but first, I want to talk about the power rangers of this show.

so. I'm really glad YE2 is putting the triple star warrior mirroring in a more interesting context

because that's clearly the intent and it's not like it doesn't make sense back in S1, but the actual execution of that mirroring seemed shallow at best with just S1 knowledge

(look! qiao ling even bought cake of them in the S2 finale)

I think it's because I couldn't quite place qiao ling's role in this until now. she's the star of wisdom, but she's the one who is the most out of the loop and lacking in knowledge... or so we thought. but with the S2 ending giving her tianxi's ability, and YE2 showing that it's a pattern for her to keep relevant information, then yeah, it's starting to make sense. the triple star warriors really are their character arcs.

star of justice, bringing hope (cheng xiaoshi's kindness being both a strength and a weakness that can either uplift or endanger other people; "even if you don't see hope, it doesn't mean it's not there")

star of courage, conquering fear (lu guang timelooping himself is the most extreme response to fear he has over cheng xiaoshi's death)

star of wisdom, serving knowledge (qiao ling and the burden of knowledge that she keeps from people out of guilt or protection)

and they really do need to overcome all of that to get the good ending.

anyway, I just think it's neat. I thought the triple star warriors mirroring was cute back in S1, but now I love it even more knowing qiao ling's place in all of this. I actually love this trait about her. she is always taking care of other people and has "big sister" vibes. she's the one who actually goes out of her way to find clients for shiguang to help and hearing their clients' troubles, even when she had no idea how their abilities worked. she's the one who truly connected with tianxi and knew how to communicate with her — even better than cheng xiaoshi could, and cheng xiaoshi was the one who actually got to live as tianxi.

it's in her nature to care for others, but it's also her biggest flaw. much like lu guang, in her desire to keep cheng xiaoshi safe in her own way, she hides relevant information from him. and the act of secret keeping causes her to keep doing it out of guilt too — as we've seen in the doudou case. it's a very human trait to have.

it puts the earthquake arc in a new context. a young cheng xiaoshi went to qiao ling, distraught over the possibility that maybe his parents died in the earthquake. young qiao ling, wanting to comfort cheng xiaoshi but also knowing that her parents were advised that it's safer for cheng xiaoshi to not go to bridon, tells him that his parents are probably somewhere "far away" and wasn't caught in the earthquake. this isn't just words for the sake of comfort. she has reason to believe this is actually true.

she's in a tough spot when S3 rolls around, because she should, by then, know about cheng xiaoshi's death, if not possibly everything that happened in bridon (through tianxi's power/memory transfer). unlike lu guang, who is dead set on timelooping himself as a way to fix things, qiao ling is in a precarious spot.

should she honor aunt shao's wish and keep cheng xiaoshi safe, which she also wants? or should she tell cheng xiaoshi information he rightfully should know, thereby allowing him to exercise full agency over his own future, even if that future has the risk of death? and whatever she chooses will affect lu guang too. what is the wise thing to do here?

on that note, others have pointed out how this recontextualizes S1E1 cheng xiaoshi talking about his parents. looking back, it's insane to me that S1E1's opening scene (not the dive rules, the one after the op plays) has cheng xiaoshi saying, "I won't go anywhere until my parents come back. if you drive me away, I'll hang myself here! then your father will never get a new tenant."

(it's looking like whatever he learns in bridon won't carry over to the cheng xiaoshi of S1, but I digress)

he says this, and both lu guang and qiao ling are sitting there calling him a childish idiot, all the while harboring knowledge about his parents that cheng xiaoshi doesn't have. (lu guang also has the extra knowledge of cheng xiaoshi's death and what happened in bridon at this point probably, but this post is not about lu guang)

like... in S1 this could just be seen as a little "haha okay so this is exposition and this is their dynamic" scene but now... man. qiao ling knew all this time, in this scene, where his parents might be. she knew during the earthquake. she knew while they were renovating the shop.

I understand the reasons behind it, and in her eyes it probably was the wise thing to do. but when S3 comes around, should she still keep hiding it, like she did with the doudou case? when she confronts lu guang about his memories, what will she do?

I have hope that she'll bridge the two boys together. we saw how her strength has always been communication and delivering words. she is the person the clients look to. she is the person that gained tianxi's trust and knew how to meet her where she's at. she is the person who knows cheng xiaoshi and lu guang best.

here's hoping that she can overcome her guilt and desire to protect cheng xiaoshi from himself, and become the star of wisdom the show wants her to be

[woozisguitar]

scoups and slut! by taylor swift please…

requests for 200 celebration post: open (but slow updates!)

warning: mentions of panic attacks, use of words like slut and whore, some shitty people, one very vague reference to sleeping together

Flamingo pink Sunrise Boulevard Clink, clink Being this young is art the pink evening sky glimmered over the high-end street of your apartment complex. when you first moved here, sunrise boulevard was a dream. now, the same streets feel fake with no real passion or life in them. being a young actress, with success kissing your feet from the very beginning, people often gave you unsolicited advice. be it about your acting roles or the stardom in general, they always treated your youth like a piece of art they wanted to have their name engraved on. ‘it’s a vicious town. they’ll eat you alive unless you learn to feast first,’ your old co-actress once told you, lighting her cigarette as you waited for the set to be ready. and now, standing in a crowd of people with flesh-colored glitter masks and coy smiles, clinking their champagne glasses with foes and friends alike, you understand what she meant.

Aquamarine Moonlit swimming pool What if all I need is you? when you saw him, the world seemed to stand still for a moment. there was something about him, something you knew you’d spend your whole life trying to decipher. maybe it was his eyes that sparkled under the moonlight, or the easygoing smile that made his beautiful dimples pop. you were never one to believe in love at first sight, not one to give into the fantasies you often starred in, but god, he made you want to believe in it. he was wearing black slacks, a white shirt with an apron, serving the people around you. you didn’t even see what he was serving, just taking one when he approached you and gave you the same damn smile. call it delusion, who cares, but you knew you had to know him. his name, what he liked, disliked, all of it. a thought popped in your mind, ‘what if all that was missing in this life was him?’

Got lovestruck, went straight to my head Got lovesick, all over my bed Love to think you'll never forget Handprints in wet cement

now, you weren’t exactly known for making good decisions. often listening to your heart more than your brain, your reputation preceded you. what you thought was love in the past had disguised itself as a snake in butterfly wings to bring you down. still, the heart wants what it wants. your brain, riding on the oxytocin high, or as the locals would call it, was ‘lovestruck,’ decided that it was a great idea to ask the host about the contact information of the catering service she used. making up a sad excuse of the staff’s lovely personality and great food, you flattered her enough to get the email and phone number from her. now with the name of the company, it was quite easy to track them down and find where they were located. luck seemed to be on your side because they had their employees listed on their webpage along with their photos. scrolling through the list of names, you found the picture of the same man you saw last night. next to his picture was his name, choi seungcheol, in bold. a small, reasonable part of your brain tried to convince you that this was a stupid idea, but you were too lovesick to care.

a quick email about seungcheol’s lovely service, followed by a subtle name-dropping and sweet-talking, ended with the company agreeing to meet you, bringing him along. sure, you had to drop the sudden house party notice on your team and the fact that you reached out to catering yourself, but you were far too deep in this to back out now. tomorrow you were going to meet seungcheol, and that’s all you cared about.

Adorned with smoke on my clothes Lovelorn and nobody knows Love thorns all over this rose I'll pay the price, you won't the next day, you found yourself sitting in a cafe reserved by your team, looking outside the window waiting for seungcheol and his manager to arrive. you tried to get seungcheol’s contact information from them but couldn’t—company policy or something. either way, the devil on your shoulder convinced you to hatch a plan to try and get seungcheol closer. you looked over at the faces of your team members and for a second felt bad because they had no idea that this was all a caprice to fulfill the desires of your lovelorn heart. the bell above the door rang, snapping you out of your thoughts. you saw him enter along with a man who looked like he was in his mid-forties. the manager introduced himself to you and your team, but you were too distracted by seungcheol to pay proper attention. clad in a simple white sweatshirt and blue jeans, this man looked more beautiful than any other celebrity or model you had met. your team went over the plans with his manager while you stole glances at the gorgeous man who stuck to the sidelines.

while your team was discussing the various options, you announced that you would order everyone something, asking seungcheol to accompany you to the counter, which made you earn a few confused glances from your team. ignoring them, you made your way to the counter, finally getting a moment of privacy with seungcheol. “hi, i’m yn,” you exchanged a smile. seungcheol’s lips quirked up in a teasing smile, “i think everyone here knows who you are, miss y/n.” “you don’t have to call me miss, just y/n is fine,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks warm up in embarrassment. way to go y/n... “alright, just y/n. i’m seungcheol, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he smiled, giving his order at the counter. you quickly followed his cue, giving the order for your team and made your way to the pickup counter with him by your side. the shy smile wouldn’t leave your face no matter how much you tried to fight it off. “so i’m guessing you will be in charge of catering at my house,” you said, looking up to see him already staring at you. “well, you specifically asked for me, so yes i will,” seungcheol replied, the stupid teasing smile not leaving his face. “right, so i was thinking wouldn’t it be easier for me to contact you if i had your number…?” you trailed off, looking at him with hopeful eyes. “shouldn’t your team contact me, y/n?” you flushed yet again at his teasing, trying to come up with a reply. seungcheol laughed and reached out, pointing at the device in your hand. you unlocked and gave it to him, watching as he opened a new contact page and filled in his details. “here you go,” he said, giving you your phone back. “by the way, you really suck at flirting,” he leaned back, taking his order and walking back to the team.

But if I'm all dressed up They might as well be looking at us And if they call me a slut You know it might be worth it for once And if I'm gonna be drunk Might as well be drunk in love the past two weeks or so had been eventful. you saw seungcheol every day at your residence, from tasting the various items off the set menu to deciding on the outfits for the staff, he was present for it all. the night when you first met, you spent hours debating whether to text him first or not. then around 11pm you decided to bite the bullet and sent him a small ‘hi, this is y/n’ text. his reply came quicker than you had anticipated, which read ‘hi, just y/n.’ you never knew a simple text would have you feeling so many butterflies. while your conversations were strictly professional, you couldn’t help but look forward to every notification from him. having seungcheol so close and around only resulted in your feelings increasing for him. when the day of your party arrived, you wore your prettiest dress, partially hoping for seungcheol to take notice. and boy, did he take notice, with his jaw slightly dropping as his eyes raked over your form. you took this moment to have a proper look at him too. dressed in dark gray dress pants, a white button-up, and maroon tie, seungcheol ditched his apron as the current stand-in manager. “done staring?” he asked, the same teasing smile gracing his face. “are you?” you flirted, terribly so, and pushed past him.

while the party was a success, you realised pretty late that the attendees took notice of you, in the wrong way. sure, you did have a reputation with dating, labels and names like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ commonly gracing the headlines with your picture on the front page. you always decided to look past that, telling yourself it's just the media and this is the curse of success. but now, it felt a little ridiculous because it involved seungcheol. plus, it wasn’t like you kissed him in front of everyone. all you did was make conversation about the various foods and laughed at his joke or two. when your publicist told you about the article, your hands were itching to text seungcheol, asking him if he was alright. even after a warning of not contacting anyone, you decided to fuck it and text him, perhaps it might be worth being called names for once. nursing yourself to a bottle of wine, you were long passed out when your phone pinged with an ‘i’m fine but how are you? :(’ text.

Send the code, he's waiting there The sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air

you saw the text from seungcheol. texting back an ‘i’m alright, don’t worry,’ you decided that you might as well shoot your shot. it was now or never. you texted him a quick ‘hey, i have to confess something, do you think you can meet me today? my place?’ seungcheol’s reply came a second later, just a ‘yes, i’ll see you there,’ to which you replied with ‘dinner’s on me :)’

seungcheol arrived right on time and you let him in. “i ordered chinese. i didn’t know what your preference was, so i hope you like it,” you said, giving him a nervous smile. he smiled back reassuringly and said he loved chinese. you showed him your living room just as your food arrived. there, now sitting next to each other with chinese takeout in between the two of you, you decided it was the right time to confess to him. “so, i want to tell you something,” you started, and seungcheol put down his food, giving you his undivided attention. you took a deep breath and started, “i really like you, really, really like you, and i know it’s silly and stupid because we’ve barely known each other for two weeks, but i do. and i completely understand if you don’t like me, i get it, truly. this life and dating me comes with a lot of drawbacks and secrecy, so i understand if it’s too much. i just really had to let you know this,” you finished, feeling breathless from your rant. you looked up to see seungcheol smiling at you. he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “i know. plus, if i didn’t want this, i wouldn’t be sitting here with you.” he simply leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

Everyone wants him That was my crime The wrong place at the right time And I break down, then he's pullin' me in In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

the next few months were absolute bliss. seungcheol was everything and somehow more than you could’ve asked for. you found out that this catering business was actually his part-time job to help put himself through grad school. yet never once did he care about your status, money, or fame. whenever you were worried things might get too much for him, like when a new hate article was released, you were shipped with a co-actor, or whenever people recalled your past relationships having no idea about what went on behind closed doors, all seungcheol would do was hold you close and tell you that he didn’t care. all he wanted was you, just y/n, no one else, he would say, recalling your first conversation. then the news broke. someone spotted the two of you holding hands and walking in the dead of night. with no one in sight, you made the stupid mistake of not hiding yours or seungcheol’s face in public. when your pr team asked if you wanted to go public to simply make the public scrutiny easier, rather than them trying to pry into your life, you could confirm and ask them to back off. seungcheol’s opinion, when asked, was simply ‘whatever works best for y/n, i’ll be happy with it.’

the confirmation announcement had alright responses. not good, but not bad either. but the worst always happens behind closed doors. with seungcheol in the spotlight, every other actress in your vicinity wanted their hands on him. whether it be sliding into his dms or straight-up trespassing at his job, demanding him to be present with other staff members, trying to sink their claws into him somehow. one of your so-called friends invited you to a party and unbeknownst to you, hired seungcheol and his catering for the same. when you saw seungcheol along with the other staff members, she tried to make a spectacle of your boyfriend, trying to insult both you and seungcheol. she thought he would cave in and was doing you a favor by revealing his ‘true form,’ but when seungcheol saw your trembling hands, unshed tears, and shaking form—all signs of the impending panic attack he had become so well-versed in handling—he didn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything. he just held you close, in the middle of the now-quiet party, and whispered if you wanted to leave. when you nodded yes, he held your hand and walked you out of the door, leaving his apron by the patio. he held you close as you tried to even your breathing, humming softly under his breath to distract you from your thoughts. slowly drifting off in your car, you sent a small thank you to the fates for finally sending you a true gentleman.

Got lovestruck, went straight to my head Got lovesick, all over my bed Love to think you'll never forget We'll pay the price, I guess

the next day, the headlines went crazy. pictures of seungcheol embracing you in the middle of the party went viral everywhere, and that’s when you realized, he also made sure to shield you completely from all sides so none of the pictures showed your tearful, panic-stricken face. seungcheol had just sent a resignation to his job when you walked into your living room, eyes welling up with tears. seungcheol saw your phone in your hand, fearing another horrible headline. you, however, hastened over and buried your face in his chest, murmuring a small thank you. seungcheol buried his face in your hair, basking in the moment of quiet. when your pr team called to discuss how you wanted to handle this, you told them to announce your short hiatus, wanting a break from everyone and everything. both of you knew relationships, in this life, came with prices to pay and yet decided to jump in headfirst.

But if I'm all dressed up They might as well be looking at us If they call me a slut You know it might be worth it for once And if I'm gonna be drunk I might as well be drunk in love

seungcheol told you about his job the same evening you told him about your hiatus. “why don’t you move in with me?” you suggested, which surprised seungcheol. “what?” “yeah, i mean it makes sense. you’ll save up on rent, which means you don’t have to take another job, and i get to have you around so i don’t spiral whenever a new article pops up. it’s a win for both of us.” seungcheol hesitated for a second, as much as he loved being with you, he felt like he was taking advantage. when he voiced his concerns, you absolved them by reminding him how much you wanted this and how having him around would be more of a favor you’re doing for yourself than him. slowly, seungcheol moved in and notified his landlord, officially taking his place in your home.

Half asleep Taking your time In the tangerine, neon light This is luxury You're not saying you're in love with me But you're going to

with seungcheol moving in, mornings definitely had its perks. the soft tangerine orange glow of sunrise slowly gracing his sleepy features while he cuddled himself closer to you was a view you would not be able to forget even in death. on his off days, you would spend late mornings in bed, slowly waking each other up with kisses, and you realised no comfort in the world would compare to this luxury. the same bed seungcheol unravels and puts you together every night was witness to the first time he murmured that he loved you. a kiss on your forehead every morning, and you knew you were irrevocably in love with him too.

Half awake Taking your chance It's a big mistake I said it might blow up in your pretty face I'm not saying do it anyway But you're going to

but your days weren’t all in blissful warmth. sometimes, your insecurities would get the best of you, and you’d ask him if all this was a big mistake and if you were really worth taking such a big chance. “this could blow up in your face, seungcheol!” you yelled after a long and difficult night of overthinking and doubting. “so be it,” was all he said, and the sheer determination in his eyes made you realize he would never leave you, no matter how hard it got.

And if they call me a slut You know it might be worth it for once And if I'm gonna be drunk Might as well be drunk in love

five months later, you decided to go back to the industry. by now, time had played its part and the general public was on your side. you steered clear of places and gatherings you knew would only cause you harm, opting to spend the nights cuddled with beloved boyfriend. every time he gives you the same damn smile, you know it was all worth it again and again.

a/n: happy new year <3

[justfrolikin]

Shiguang's domestic bliss : an Asian perspective

For most of us Asians...the image of 'love' looks quite peculiar. While the traditional 'romantic' stuff is still prevalent in our culture, it's relatively modern. In Asian households, 'love' has always taken priority over 'romance'. Let me explain.

In Shiguang's case, they never got that 'feeling nervous around each other', 'butterflies in stomach' love. Instead what they get? They get the 'bickering with each other', 'call each other nicknames', 'doing each other favours', 'comfort each other without sharing a word' love. They live in each other's presence without a doubt in mind about the other's loyalty. Needless to say, that's very reminiscent of an old married couple who have passed the 'honeymoon phase' way back. Except, Shiguang never had that honeymoon phase.

I think, to get the most out of my perspective, I need to give some more cultural context:

As Asians, we:

Are not very big on PDA

Most of still prefer arranged marriage, as most of us value partnership between spouses than typical romance stuff anyway.

More than feelings, we prefer cooperation between partners. Also, we heavily condone divorces(bad thing, I know) meaning we,like Shiguang,value 'partnership for life'.

(hilariously Shiguang's 'partnership' parallels a 'arranged marriage scenario very well XD)

They demonstrate a bond that only come with living together for a long term, sharing life with each other. A kind kind of fondness that grows with time. It is showcased in season two when CXS was told lg was dead, instead of recalling some grand sentimental moment, recalls all the little moments of lg (affectionately) reprimanding cxs. I don't know if I can call it 'romantic',but it definitely comes across as extremely domestic.

As someone who lives with my family, my parents interactions are very interesting to observe keeping this context in mind. They undoubtedly love and care for each other, but don't leave a single opportunity to criticize and mock(playfully) each other. Does that sound familiar?

Moreover, 'loyalty' and 'trust' are the most important values that are cherished among couples.

So if someone says, 'shiguang have zero romantic chemistry ' maybe we need to keep in mind that maybe 'romance' can mean different things in different contexts. It's something only the people who are experiencing the relationship can tell.

I know that's not what the director intended, but I think we can experience and expand our perceptions while engaging in a piece of media. Shiguang may not be a romantic couple, but they live like one, and their bond is not any lesser because of it.

I could've said a lot of things but my thoughts are all jumbled up now. I know there are a lot of things to talk about Link Click, but let's be honest , Shiguang is at the heart of it and I'll not get tired of talking about them.

Anyway, feel free to share your thoughts :)

[maretinelli]

SWEET NIGHT

Lewis Hamilton X Wife!fem!reader

Summary: When the little Hamilton family has a fun night out with their little girl and Roscoe.

Words: 2.8K+

Warnings: Daddy Lewis, Mommy Y/n, mentions of Italy, daughter, cute and just cute things, maybe a suggestive themed ending.

Author: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes there may be. And I love Papa Lewis, I could read everything on this topic😭❤️‍🩹 (You can request stories on my profile!)

MASTERLIST

Y/n was in the kitchen, stirring a pan while the soft sound of Italian music filled the room. She liked to put on podcasts, songs and talk to her daughter in Italian, so that the little girl would have her independence in the language. Since with her father's work, the family had to move to Italy.

Mariah sat near the island, absorbed in her coloring book, her small hands quickly coloring the pictures carefully. While Roscoe, lying next to the girl, seemed to be enjoying the peace of the house, his gaze calm and distant, as if he had surrendered to time.

The oldest one talked about her daughter's writing in Italian, giving her tips and telling her what she could use as a basis to write better.

"Mommy, you've explained to me a thousand times how to do this, I already know," Mariah said, shaking her head, still not letting go of her focus on the image.

Y/n smiled, trying to hide her amusement as she turned her food over. "I know, honey. I just wanted to make sure you understood." She walked past her daughter and placed a quick kiss on the girl's wavy hair.

The little girl let out a dramatic sigh, her brow furrowed as she looked at Roscoe, who had his head down, looking dejected. "Why does Roscoe seem so sad lately?"

"Ah, it's because he's getting old and tired, you know? He doesn't have the same energy to play as you do." Y/n adds seasoning to the food she was preparing.

Mariah still had her eyes on the dog as he snored softly in his sleep.

"How old is he, Mom?"

Y/n let out a sincere smile, amused by the seriousness with which the question was asked.

"Oh, I don't know exactly. But when I started dating Dad, Roscoe was already there. So I can't say for sure." Y/n smiles at her daughter, and she smiles back at him with the same smile as her father. "We can ask Dad as soon as he gets here."

Mariah looks at the dog again: "He really does look old." Then she picks up the colored pencil again and starts coloring again. "He must be as old as daddy!"

Y/n laughed, surprised by the comparison, as she dropped the spoon into the pan. Young Hamilton looked at her mother in amusement.

"Well, when Daddy gets home from work, I'll tell him about it!"

Mariah laughed loudly, enjoying the fun moment with her mother, and Roscoe, as always, didn't care much about the family's jokes.

Y/n continued talking to Mariah as she stirred dinner, the words flowing naturally between them.

Little Mariah Hamilton was a perfect mix of her parents, but the traits of Lewis's genetics stood out more, making Y/n remember her husband every time she looked at her daughter's wavy dark hair or when she smiled.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do for your next birthday, Mariah?" Y/n sets the table with plates, glasses and silverware.

"I don't know..." she says thoughtfully, stopping her drawing for a moment. "I'm in doubt between two themes..."

Y/n smiled, looking at her daughter, as she walked over to the stove, where Mariah was sitting on the front counter.

"It's okay, sweetie. We still have time to think."

Just then, the front door opened. The familiar sound of Lewis's footsteps made Mariah's face light up and Y/n cracked a smile. The house was filled with silent anticipation, the family's routine interrupted only by this small daily ritual.

Roscoe, who until then had been quiet next to Mariah, suddenly stood up, his ears pricked up, as if he had sensed his owner's presence. Before Lewis had even fully entered, Roscoe took off, running excitedly towards the entrance.

The girl gave a cry of surprise and laughter, watching the dog running around the house, wagging its tail excitedly.

"Roscoe, you're too excited right now!" Mariah said, laughing loudly, her identical Lewis smile spreading across her face.

Y/n laughed.

"Girls, I'm home!" Lewis called out from the front door as he hung up his car keys. "Hey, Roscoe, how are you, buddy?" Lewis said, his voice soft and caring, reaching down to pet Roscoe, running his hand through the dog's fur affectionately.

Hamilton smelled the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen, and then decided to follow it, knowing that his girls would probably be there making dinner.

"Look there, my girls!" He smiles when he sees Y/n at the stove finishing dinner and Mariah perched on the stool coloring.

Lewis hugs his daughter from behind and kisses her cheek, making her laugh as her father's beard tickles her. Hamilton smiles as he hears the laughter and then looks at his wife, approaching and hugging her.

"How are you guys?" He asks, after giving the woman a quick kiss on the lips.

"We're fine. We were just talking about Mariah's Italian lessons, weren't we, daughter?" Y/n smiled, placing the pan on the table and walking back, while Lewis snaked his hand down to rest on his wife's waist.

"Oh, really? And how are you?" Lewis asks interestedly, looking at his daughter.

"I think it's going well... Today I managed to understand almost everything the teacher said in class, she even colored it in.

Y/n and Lewis exchange an amused look when they hear the 'almost everything' coming from their daughter.

"That's great, sweetie." Lewis walks over to his daughter, kissing the top of her head.

Y/n smiles. "So Mariah..." she begins, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at her daughter in front of her and her husband. "Aren't you going to tell daddy what you said to mommy just now?" She holds back a laugh and Lewis looks at the two of them curiously.

"What have you been up to, Bub?" He drawls, pinching her nose lightly. Making her giggle.

Mariah shrugs a little and sets the pencil aside, turning to see her father's amused face.

"I told you Roscoe is as old as you." She went back to coloring, while Y/n laughed again and Lewis stood there looking at his daughter, a smile appearing on his face and a false indignation.

"You did what?" He asks playfully, starting to tickle his daughter. "I'm not old, just so you know." Mariah laughed out loud.

"It's okay, it's okay...daddy's not old. Just Roscoe" Mariah shouts laughing, making Lewis stop tickling and smile seeing his daughter's face.

"That's much better" He kisses the top of her head and turns to Y/n laughing.

Mariah looks at her mother and makes a discreet gesture with her finger, as if to say that he was just a 'little' old. Y/n holds back a laugh and rolls her eyes.

Everyone knew what a great jokester Mariah could be. But sometimes she outdid herself in her jokes.

"Okay you two. Old or young, dinner is on the table waiting for you" Y/n says and Lewis walks past her, slapping his wife's ass, making her squeal.

"I'm not old, you know," he whispered into his wife's ear, as she smiled sideways and a shiver ran through her body.

Mariah, for her part, struggled to get down from the high chair.

"Hey, honey. Let me help you." Lewis comes and picks up his daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek and placing her near the table.

After dinner and cleaning up, the little Hamilton family gathered in the great room, along with Roscoe. In the center of the room, a small toy table was surrounded by a likely circle: Lewis, Y/n and even Roscoe, all sitting on the floor, with their knees bent and their gazes focused.

Mariah was in charge, her little face beaming with joy as she poured imaginary tea into the toy mugs. She wore a sparkling tiara on her head, her princess costume creating an extra sparkle in her eyes.

Around her, her parents were dressed in the makeshift costumes she had chosen herself.

The incredible serious Ferrari driver - Lewis, was unrecognizable with a pink princess tiara on his head and fairy wings spread across his back, trying to maintain a serious expression, but the corners of his mouth betrayed his smile.

He looked at his daughter with a fond gleam in his eyes, knowing she had gotten what she wanted, as she always did, but also feeling grateful for these small, adorable moments.

Y/n, on the other hand, had light makeup done by Mariah, her eyes softly colored with shadows and a bit of glitter that her daughter loved to apply. She wore several scarves around her neck, some awkwardly wrapped and others hanging down, and a pair of childish glasses were stuck on her head, over her hair.

Even poor Roscoe had glasses on his doggy face, not really caring about the game, just laying there for Mariah to play with.

Mariah seemed to have her parents wrapped around her finger, as if they were completely at her beck and call, but at the same time, she treated them with such affection and sweetness that it didn't feel like a command, but a desire to share.

"Daddy, do you want some more tea? Mommy, can I get you some cookies?" he asked softly but confidently, knowing they would never say no.

As Mariah continued to serve tea and tell stories, Lewis allowed himself to relax, forgetting for a moment the hectic life he led. He was there, with his family, on a peaceful night, and that was all he really needed.

He laughed lovingly at the way Yin played with their daughter, as if all the worries in the world could wait while they lived in this moment.

"Daddy, do you need more tea?" Mariah asked again, her expression beaming as she held out the toy mug to Lewis, who, with a smile of pure happiness, pretended to take a sip.

"Of course, my princess," he said, his voice soft and caring, and there, in that simple gesture, he realized that he didn't need anything else beyond that little scene, that unconditional love that seemed to fill every corner of the house.

Mariah, with her sparkling tiara and focused expression, poured another imaginary cup of tea for her father, who greeted it with a smile.

When she turned to hand the imaginary cookie to Y/n, she noticed that the cookie toy was almost empty, with only a few pieces visible on the table. With an expression of slight frustration, she raised her hands and said in her childish, determined voice:

"Just a minute, Mommy, I'll get some more cookies!"

Without waiting for a response, she ran excitedly into the room, her little legs making a happy noise as she walked away.

"Our daughter really is amazing, isn't she?" Lewis said with a tender smile, touching her hand.

Y/n looked at him, her eyes shining with affection, and nodded. "She has a unique way of making everything more fun," she replied softly, feeling her heart warm at the moment.

Lewis then leaned towards Y/n, pulling her close and whispering something sweet in her ear. "I still can't believe you're mine," he said with a fond smile, before pulling his wife into a kiss on the lips, affection spreading between them.

Mariah walked into the room with a new toy in her hands, a small, mischievous smile on her face. She placed the toy on the table, crossed her arms with a serious expression, and approached her father, pulling his head back, making him look at her with a confused look.

"Hey, what are you doing, princess?" Lewis asked, laughing, while Y/n also smiled at the funny scene. Mariah held her father's head back gently.

"You can't kiss. Princess Mommy is promised to another prince."

Y/n let out a laugh, and Lewis widened his eyes, pretending to be shocked.

"Hey, what's this? I came first and I conquered first! Princess Mommy is mine," he said playfully, pulling Yin into an awkward hug, nearly knocking over the toys around them.

"Okay... you can have Princess Mommy... but only because you're my Daddy," She said with a chuckle, before jumping towards the table and throwing herself back on the couch, pretending to be defeated.

Y/n smiled at that unique moment, hugging Lewis back, feeling a warmth in her chest. She couldn't imagine living that sweet dream, with the family they had created, when she met Lewis ten years ago. Life had been full of surprises and twists and turns, and that simple, yet perfect moment, was everything she could have wished for.

"I can't help but love this," Y/n whispered, stroking Mariah's hair as the girl played with her teacup again. "I love you guys! So, so much!"

Lewis kissed Y/n's forehead affectionately, still smiling at the funny and loving moment they had just shared.

"I love you too, princess mommy," he said in a soft, loving voice. "And I will win you forever."

Y/n's gaze met his, and for an instant, the entire world seemed to stop, leaving only that moment of pure happiness and familial love.

The mood only dissipated when little Hamilton asked if anyone wanted a biscuit to go with their imaginary tea.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tea night had long since ended, the house was silent except for the soft sound of music playing in the background.

Y/n was in the living room, picking up the toys scattered around the small makeshift tea table. Roscoe was lying on the carpet, watching her with his tired eyes, as if he understood the serenity of the moment. She smiled at him.

"You're tired, buddy, but you did a great job today. Mariah loves you, you know? I bet she'll want to take you to ballet tomorrow, but you can sleep in a little longer, okay?"

The dog wagged his tail slightly, as if in agreement.

Lewis comes out of the hallway and appears in the living room, bringing with him a smile and a sparkle in his eyes. He comes closer, leaning against the doorframe for a moment, watching Y/n fondly as she finishes putting away her toys.

"She finally fell asleep," he began, walking over to her. "But before she closed her eyes, she said something that made me laugh."

"What's wrong?" Y/n looked curiously.

"She said she was really tired because, and I quote, 'Being a princess is a hard job, Daddy, but someone's gotta do it.'" He laughed, shaking his head. "I think we have a little leader in our house."

Y/n laughed with him, shaking her head in amusement.

"She's growing up so fast, Lew. It seems like just yesterday she was that tiny baby in our arms. And now, she's so smart and full of personality."

Lewis approached her, wrapped her in a hug from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder, as he always did when he wanted a quiet and close moment. Y/n smiled instantly, feeling that familiar butterflies in her stomach, something he still managed to provoke in her after so many years together.

"She gets her intelligence from her mother," he commented, gently kissing the side of her neck.

"And father's charisma," Y/n replied, tilting her head to lean against him, the smile still on her lips.

For a few moments, they stood there, enjoying the silence and each other's company, until Lewis broke the moment with an unexpected question:

"Have you ever thought about having one more?"

Y/n turned her head to look at him, surprised, but with a curious glint in her eyes. "Another child?"

"Yeah, why not?" He smiled, wrapping his arms around her more tightly. "Mariah would make a great big sister. And I'd love to do it all over again."

Y/n chuckled softly, thinking about the idea.

"I never imagined you would bring this up now. But... it's not a bad idea."

Lewis smiled, clearly pleased with her answer. He gently turned her to face him and pulled her into a hot kiss, full of passion and desire. Y/n melted into his arms, as she always did, and smiled against his lips.

When the kiss ended, he murmured in a playful tone, "So... how about we start now?"

Y/n laughed loudly, pushing him lightly in the chest.

"Lewis!"

Before she could protest further, he quickly picked her up and placed her over his shoulders, eliciting a surprised gasp from her followed by laughter.

"What are you doing?!"

"Taking the queen to her chambers, of course," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/n laughed as he walked down the hallway, commenting, "You're a freak!"

"Maybe. But I'm your crazy person," he retorted, laughing along with her as they disappeared towards the bedroom, the sound of their laughter filling the house.

Author: My first name is Mariah (actually, without the H) but it's the same thing hahahaha