#paramour profiles

[vacantgodling]

a guide to: hyacinthus shrapnel

thank you to anyone who's expressed interest in my favorite asshole man--at some point i'll do this for more ocs, but i am not immune to favoritism. gently tagging those who i think would wanna see this:

@henrike-does-writing-sometimes @outpost51 @void-botanist @jezifster @mjjune @sergeantnarwhalwrites @ink-flavored @astral-runic @calicohyde @kk7-rbs @foxys-fantasy-tales @inadequatecowboy @sarahlizziewrites @multi-lefaiye

transposed under the cut!

SLIDE 1: A GUIDE TO HYACINTHUS SHRAPNEL -- the meanest, prettiest, and most emotionally constipated man ever. by @vacantgodling, yours truly

SLIDE 2: BASIC INFORMATION pt. 1

FULL NAME: HYACINTHUS SHRAPNEL (nicknames: HYA (by amon), CINTHY (by aloe, lovingly, and tagetes, degradingly), CINTH (by narci))

AGE: 31

BIRTHDAY: he hates talking about his birthday, so you won’t get the exact date. just know that it falls during the galerian form of “christmas” which is the two weeks of may 12th — may 24th. its somewhere in there :)

GENDER: TROIBEMME (HE/HIM PRONOUNS ONLY)

the galerian equivalent to our nonbinary; an entirely separate gender denomination that blurs the line between masculine and feminine; encompassing everything inbetween, nothing at all, or outside of a binary frame altogether. its considered a ‘third gender’ by the galerian people, and has been observed in galerian history for centuries. old galerian even features multiple pronoun sets, but they have been lost in the modern age. nowadays, those who present as troibemme usually use “they” “he” or “she” but this does not negate their troibemme status. gender =/= pronouns etc.

SOCIAL STATUS: WIFE OF THE KEEPER OF CHATEAU AUX AISLES D’OR

husband and wife refer to the specific social hierarchy in galere. “wife” and “husband” respectively refer to the role of being a breadwinner and connection maker (husband) versus the manager of the house and finances (wife). wives do occasionally lead the way in organizing at home balls. child rearing (in upper society) is usually left to maids and nanny’s—not a responsibility of either parent. traditionalists believe wives should take on this task as children are part of the “home”, but in actual valerian society children are usually pawned off. all of the gunn clan, sans aloe (as he is part of the clergy) are wives.

SLIDE 3: THE GUNN FAMILY TREE

a family tree that showcases the main gunn family tree. lonicera gunn and clematis gunn are crossed out because they are deceased. they were wed first and had 3 children, tagetes gunn de beneaux (40, they/them), iberis winch (36, he/him) and narcissus spokes (33, she/her). while it is not indicated by the chart, clematis had a relationship with moxie shrapnel in lonicera's twilight years, giving birth to hyacinthus shrapnel (31, he/him) and his name is in bold lettering. then, clematis finally married belladonna anvil (who hyphenated her name to anvil-gunn) and had 2 children, lavendula caldern (28, she/her) and aloe anvil-gunn (24, he/him).

SLIDE 4: BASIC INFORMATION PT. 2

SOCIAL STATUS: aside from a wife, hya is also a BASTARD. this is not a well kept secret.

bastards, as per the definition, are illegitimate heirs. hyacinthus is the 4th child of the dodgy businessman, CLEMATIS GUNN, who had an affair with a prostitute, MOXIE SHRAPNEL (where hya gets his surname), during his first wife’s decline in health. 

bastards have no claim to family fortunes, so when clematis passed, hya would’ve been shit out of luck if he wasn’t essentially adopted by tagetes. hya has also never met his mother to his own knowledge as she fled the situation when clematis started getting more abusive.

in order to marry the keeper, tagetes had birth certificates forged. whether or not the keeper knows of this deceit is questionable; but the large dowry tagetes paid to facilitate the marriage has seemed to placate them enough not to question it.

MISC LIKES: coffee (misted ivory geisha is his favorite in universe blend—its imported from the northeast country i have yet to name), fashion (dresses, shoulder pads, and embroidery are his favorite things), gold & white (for jewelry, dress, and aesthetically), MONEY (he’s extremely materialistic), reading & literature (he’s very critical however—in a modern au he would probably be a pretty well renowned critic).

in general however, hya is easily annoyed.

SLIDE 5: what annoys hya, you may ask? FUCKING EVERYTHING. thank you for being polite because he's not :D

SLIDE 6: GENERAL APPEARANCE

HEIGHT: 5’11” (~180cm)

EYE COLOR: dark brown

HAIR COLOR: black, with hime bangs (square bangs in the front with short, square cut side bangs that frame the face and chin), and long hair that reaches to his mid back.

BUILD: broad, girthy👀, and imposing. when he finds time to work out is a mystery to most, but his physique shows he clearly does.

there are 2 photos of hyacinthus to display his looks; a broad shouldered, dark brown skinned man with fox-shaped and narrow eyes, multiple piercings (nose, ears, and lip), and two beauty marks under his left eye. he is wearing an intricate white and gold outfit in the picture on the right. in the one on the left he is wearing an intricate white and gold choker. there are 2 thought bubbles over each. one says "RBF STRONG AF". the other says "even though hya is so well manicured he hates showers bc #childhoodtrauma. he does take baths though!"

SLIDE 7: everything on hya glitters like gold -> here’s a map of hya’s piercings and notable features

the picture shows various arrows pointing to hyacinthus (who has his mouth open to reveal that his canine teeth on his upper row of teeth have been replaced by sharp, solid gold). they point to his beauty marks, canines, and various piercings.

SLIDE 8: IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIPS

as an aside, hya didn’t have friends growing up because he literally wasn’t allowed to leave the estate his father trapped him in until he was 19… and that was bc his dad died and tagetes ‘adopted’ him.

TAGETES ⟶ despite the fact that tagetes basically raised hya, the two of them hardly see eye to eye. tagetes views, treats, and exploits hya (as they do everyone) as a means to their end goals—though what those goals are is anyone’s guess. hya doesn’t trust tagetes as far as he could throw them. yet, at the same time, they have a strange sense of obligation and “care” (if it can be called that) towards one another. tagetes was definitely the main influence into why hya is Like That.

ALOE ⟶ since aloe turned 10 and learned that he had an older brother whom he hadn’t met yet, he began to try and write letters getting to know hya. despite being generally brash, crass, and a pain in the ass, hya really cherishes aloe’s letters and companionship, and they actually meet for the first time in person during the events of paramour. 

AMON ⟶ y’all knew it was coming. i feel like i don’t even have to explain this one they are obsessed with each other in the most toxic of ways lmao. amon infuriates hya down to a molecular level, yet he is also the only man—only person—hya has ever been attracted to. (and he will not EVER admit that)

SLIDE 9: HIS OPINIONS ON...

… Narcissus ⟶ she annoys him and he can’t understand why she’s so obsessed with trying to ‘fit in’ with other people. also he wished she wouldn’t try to talk his ear off every time she saw him.

… Iberis ⟶ he literally doesn’t have one. the two of them avoid each other like the plague.

… Lavendula ⟶ avoids her like the plague if he can help it, but she actually looks up to him in a way, especially based on the things aloe has told her about him. they aren’t close and don’t really speak until her book but that’s a whole other thing.

… Clematis ⟶ #daddyissues. hates the man’s guts and is glad he’s dead.

… Lonicera ⟶ she died before he was born, but even if she lived, he would’ve never met her regardless. no opinion.

… Moxie ⟶ he’s never met his mother to his knowledge, so he has no opinion of her. she loves him very much and there’s more to that story that we won’t hear about until empire (tagetes’s book)

… Belladonna ⟶ the loathing is mutual

… Erecia ⟶ he doesn’t gain an opinion of her until lavendula’s book, and even then it’s mostly just “that’s amon’s friend” territory

… Viola, Barbatus, & Rumex ⟶ he’s not good with kids so he tries not to interact if he can avoid it

… Helianthus ⟶ finds him EXTREMELY obnoxious

… Terian ⟶ no opinion, they’ve never met.

… Miss Shanin ⟶ she’s always in his way and he’s generally annoyed by and suspicious of her

… Vira, Tamhas, Asahel ⟶ no opinion at all. they’re just servants.

… The Keeper & The Bishop ⟶ finds them genuinely disturbing. distrusts them HEAVILY.

SLIDE 10: ASSOCIATIONS

alcoholic drink: white russian

food: steak bechamel

colors: white & gold

flower: yellow hyacinths

animal: leopard

zodiac: taurus

tarot: six of swords

song: lyin’ to myself — todrick hall

[constantinerkives]

PAIRING: Hotel Magnate! Yoo Jimin x College student! Fem reader _____________ WARNINGS: Sugar Mommy AU, college AU, age gap, OC is in her final year of college while YJM is 34, profanity, strangers to paramours, Chopard and Cannes Film Festival Karina, good lord. OC has a slight crush on the dean lmao. OC short-circuits when pretty, older women talk to her. Smut, oral (K receiving), strap-on sex (reader receiving), Dom! Karina, mommy kink, OC ain't a virgin, riding, rough sex, cock-warming, or was it strap-warming? (IDK, but you catch my drift, yeah?), shower sex, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, use of a vibrator, pool sex, biting, marking, fingering, that's pretty much it, I think. _____________ WORDCOUNT: 14.7K Sorry, this was self-indulgent yall, my bad💀🤩 _____________ A/N:

You asked; I shall deliver. Oh - and please see the header for synopsis and turn on your sound hehe.

"Ning Yizhou, what the fuck-"

"Shut up and listen, will you?" She cuts you off with a glare and turns her MacBook screen towards you. "You need this." 

You clamp your mouth shut and allow the younger girl to continue. The ash-blonde girl takes a seat across from you and shows you a site from the internet. You sit before the latter with the pads of your fingers tapping against your thighs. Ningning observes you warily before knotting her fingers together. "After hearing your rants for months about how the school's kicking both your ass and wallet, I propose a solution." 

"By being a sugar baby," You snort. She shoots you a silencing look. "Let me finish, Y/N." 

 She shows you her profile, "This website is safe, and it strictly monitors the chats of both parties. It is consensual and beneficial for person A and person B." She then shows you her chat with her sponsor; the profile read: Uchinaga Giselle. If your memory serves you correctly, she is the managing director of AE Industries, a definition of young, rich, and beautiful. "Woah, your sugar mommy is Giselle?"

Ningning's lips curl to a smirk, "Focus, Y/N. Have you read our conversation?"

"Yes," Your eyes skim the chat, "It's respectful and direct." 

"Exactly," She grins and closes her MacBook. "Not all stories involving a life like this are scary, Y/N." Your friend presses a palm against her chest, "Like me, for example." 

"Yeah, yeah," You sigh and lower your head, "I don't know, Ning." Her features soften as her hand reaches yours, her thumb rubbing comforting circles against the back of your palm. 

"Some sugar mommies or daddies want to fill the void of being rich Y/N. Some want to soothe their overbearing parents, and some just have too much fucking money. They're mature and won't force you to do something you're not comfortable with for the sake of being spoiled in return." 

You contemplated for a moment before curling your lips to a smile. "Fuck it, Ning. I'm in." Your friend grins and opens her MacBook. "Leave your profile to me, Y/N. And pick a dress you'll be using for the ceremony. You need to look fresh for tomorrow." Right. Before this discussion with Ningning, you received an email from Hanyang University that you're a dean's lister for the second semester. 

"Thanks, Ning." You stand from the table and make your way to her room. 

"Y/N!" Minjeong squeals upon seeing your familiar figure as more awardees enter the venue, "I'm relieved! I thought I was going to be alone with strangers for the ceremony." 

"Not anymore," You grin and crane your neck to examine the students on the premises. "Are we the only ones from our block?" 

She follows your example and hums, "Seems like it, and - oh shit, the dean's heading this way!" You snap your head and lock eyes with the dean of your department. An automatic smile curls on your lips as you acknowledge her presence by bowing your head. "Miss Kim, Seol," The older woman greets with her slender digits knotted atop her stomach. 

"Good evening, Miss Bae." You greet in return. Bae Joohyun, professionally known as Irene Bae, is the dean of your department. The woman couldn't be older than forty, fair-skinned, doe-shaped eyes framing sharp, intelligent obsidian-hued pupils, an upturned nose, a small face, and pink, plump lips. The dean is sporting a mint blue suit and white heels, and her long black hair tied in a low ponytail. The older woman's lips curl upward, "I see that it's only the two of you again from your block," She comments while you and Minjeong look at each other, uncertain. "And I'm impressed," Irene adds. You glow under her praise, "Thank you, Miss Bae." 

The latter hums, "Do enjoy the celebration." 

With that, she walks past you and Winter. You caught a whiff of the older woman's scent and let out a blissful sigh as you stagger. "Damn," Winter exhales as her head follows the older woman's slender figure, "If she wasn't the dean, I don't mind being smashed by her." 

"Agree," You giggled as you watched the older woman interact with her faculty. "I guess I have a reason to study my ass off." 

Then your stomach churns uncomfortably as an unpleasant thought voices your concern. 

That is if you have the money to enroll for the final semester.

Blood drains from your body, and your smile drops. "I should find a job that should sustain me." You mutter under your breath as another feminine voice interjects: "Minjeong!" You snap from your reverie and raise your head. You spot Chaewon standing next to Yunjin and Ryujin; gesturing a hand to Winter, who looks at you with a small smile, "I'll hang around with them, yeah?" Her tone indicates permission, and you snort at her. "You don't need to ask for my approval, Winter. Go." 

The latter guffaws and pats your shoulder, "Have a nice evening, Y/N." With that, she leaves to join the group. 

You sigh, and your posture droops as your eyes scour your surroundings. Your vision dims at the sight of extravagance oozing from your peers and faculty. You clench and unclench your hands to calm your racing nerves before the voices behind your head speak up: You don't belong here. 

And you painfully agree. How the hell did you manage to keep up? 

"Excuse me, miss," Your ears perk upon hearing an unfamiliar deep yet feminine voice. Sultry and alluring. "But have you seen Joohyun?"

Joohyun? Your brows furrow. How can someone say the dean's name so casually? 

You turn in the direction of the stranger, and your eyes subtly widen at the sight of the towering beauty behind you. Your eyes take in her appearance. Her long black hair was styled; slid back, allowing you to have a good glimpse at her smooth, fair countenance, familiar doe-shaped eyes framing those sharp, intelligent hazel-colored crevices. You mentally pick your jaw from the floor. 

"Joohyun?" Your voice came out as a squeak, and you fought the urge to palm your face. "You mean our dean?"

A playful grin curls on her plump lips, "Yes," Her hazel-colored eyes scour your features, "And my," She purrs, "Aren't you a beauty?" Your cheeks warmed as the woman continued: "I should count myself lucky for asking a pretty girl like you." A subtle shade of pink dust your cheeks as you clear your throat softly, "Thank you," You muse as you shift your weight from one foot to another. "How may I help you?"

"I'm looking for-"

"Karina," Your posture straightens upon hearing her authoritative voice. Irene takes a stand beside you. Her face turns in your direction with slight surprise before she regains her calm countenance and returns her gaze to the said stranger: Karina. 

"I see that you've met one of my students," The dean gestures a hand towards the raven-haired beauty. "Y/N, meet my..." She trails off before Karina's lips release a deep chuckle, shivers run down your spine, and your stomach churns at the sound. "Don't be shy now, Hyunnie." 

Hyunnie? 

Karina holds out her hand for you to shake, "I'm Karina Bae, her half-sister. And you are?" 

Half-sister? 

Oh

That explains the familiar features, and if you have to compare the two of them by age, Karina seems to be ten years younger than the older woman next to you. But still, both women are drop-dead gorgeous. They won the battle of genes. 

"Seol Y/N," You reply in a trance as you reach to shake her hand, expecting a handshake, but she surprises you by bringing it up to brush her mouth against your knuckles, a shock traveling up your arm at the contact. Her eyes never leave yours, and you hold your breath, afraid you'll do something embarrassing if you do. Hopefully, your face doesn't show how the action flustered you. You gawk at her as she releases your hand. 

"A pleasure, Y/N." Your body glows at the way her tongue smoothly caresses your name. It's embarrassing how quick you are to succumb to the younger Bae. You instinctively look away from her raving eyes as the dean clears her throat. 

"Easy, Karina." The dean chides, "She's my student," 

A heart-throbbing smile graces Karina's lips, "Anyways," She raises a paper bag. Was she holding something all this time? How come you didn't notice? "As you can see, sister. I just returned from France," The hazel-eyed beauty hands it to her, "And I bought a present." 

You eye the two of them, feeling as though you're intruding on a moment between the siblings. Irene's lips curl upwards and takes the paperbag, "You shouldn't have, Karina. Is that why you came here?"

"Of course," Karina grins, "I can't come back to my alma mater empty-handed now, can I?" 

"Thank you, Karina." 

The latter merely hums in reply, "I'll get going now. There's no need for me to stay if a party lacks drinks." She grins while Irene rolls her eyes. "It's protocol," 

"Sure," Karina turns to you, "Take care, Miss Seol." 

Perhaps she was waiting for you to hold your hand out again, but your brain decided that risking another touch from this gorgeous woman would have undesirable consequences. A wave sufficed for now.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Karina." 

You were wrong. Karina doesn't even have to touch you to get you woozy. Her wolfish smirk was enough to make your knees wobble. She departs, leaving your eyes to follow her lithe physique. 

"I apologize on her behalf," The older Bae announces, and you move your gaze to her. You gulped. "She isn't usually like this. Perhaps staying in Paris rewired her behavior." You shake your head sideways, "It's fine Miss Bae. Have a wonderful evening," You tell her before bowing and departing from the dean. 

Ningning automatically bombards you with her findings while you are at the ceremony. 

"So your account has been receiving DMs," She grins with pride beaming in her delicate features as she slides you a takeout from her favorite fast-food chain, "All you have to do is to go through it with a fine-tooth comb and take your pick." She slides the MacBook in your direction, and your eyes widen at the number of requests. 

"Woah," You mumble, feeling overwhelmed. Your friend catches on and sits next to you. "You don't have to make a choice overnight. You can scour it whenever you're free." 

And that's what you did. 

You spent your lunchtime and break times scouring the site for your potential benefactor. 

For days, no one caught your eye, until a woman popped up on your screen. 

Yoo Jimin

You clicked on her profile, half of her face was hidden, but those plump lips, the lighting, and the prominent collarbones beneath the lapels of her blazer pulled you to dig deeper into her account. You press the photo where she is leaning her back against the gold railing of Hotel Olympia. Jimin was wearing a form-fitting black dress showing off her slender figure. On her hand was a champagne glass and the closest glimpse of her side profile; absolute perfection. You let out a huff and close your eyes to steel your nerves before typing:

Hello

"Ning, what are we doing here?" You inquire the younger girl as she drags you into Givenchy's boutique, the employees eyeing you warily as the latter scrutinizes the boutique before looking at you with a familiar smile.

"We're shopping for your outfit next week," If your face showed surprise, you hid it poorly. You lean close to whisper against Ningning's ear. "In here?"

The ash-blonde shoots you a look. "Duh?"

"It's expensive!"

"It's fine-"

"What can I do for you ladies?" Ningning turns to the employee and smiles, "I made an appointment three hours ago under Giselle Uchinaga's name." The older woman hums as your friend continues, "Send us your best attires for a date night for my friend-" She gestures a hand towards you, "What's your size?"

You gawk at her as the employee looks at you expectantly, "Uhm-"

"Tell her," Ningning commands, the look on her face gave no heed to protests.

You blurt out your size, and the lady nods and turns to your friend, "We'll look for her size. In the meantime do enjoy the private suite located to the left corner of our store." She gestures an open palm to one of the five private booths. Ningning seemed pleased by the suggestion and thanked the woman before grasping your wrist and dragging you to your assigned booth.

"Yizhou-"

"If you're worried about paying back, don't worry about it." She cuts you off as she grabs one of Givenchy's brochures presented on the table. "Besides," She tears her gaze from the material, "You need to look presentable for your meeting with your sugar mommy."

You purse your lips. After interacting with your benefactor for two days, you finally agreed to meet to discuss the nature of your relationship with her. She gave you the freedom to dress in whatever clothing you want, so long as you'll style it with a white scarf. That way, she'd be able to identify you and not cause any misunderstanding. Ningning pats a spot next to her on the velvet couch, "Be comfortable, Y/N. I'm here."

"This is new territory to me, Nings." You confess while rubbing your nape. The younger girl's expression softens as you sit next to her. The ash-blonde-haired girl drapes a slender arm around your shoulders. "You don't have to pay me back, Y/N." She tells you solemnly, "I take pleasure in knowing that you'll look good in your first meeting because I was there to ensure that you'll give a good impression. Now don't worry about the price tags. Gigi is aware and is willing to extend her generosity because she knows I'm friends with you, and we've been together through thick and thin."

"Gigi?" You teased with a smile, and she winked at you. Before she can say anything else, there's a knock on the double doors.

You fix your posture as your friend tells them to come in.

On cue, three women entered the room. Two of them were delicately guiding the cloth rack inside while one pushed a tray of shoes, bags, and accessories. Your jaw slacks at the collection.

"These are our finest collections," One of them declares with a smile, "Feel free to choose which ones you like." Without another word, they exit the booth, leaving you and your friend alone. "Okay," Ningning stands from her couch and approaches the dresses and takes one that caught her eye, and presents it to you. "Try this one first."

After trying on different types of attires for an excruciating hour, you found a dress you and Ningning agree on.

"Finally!" She grins as she circles you, inspecting the dress. You stare at your reflection, unable to recognize the lady in the mirror. It's a black, leather one-shoulder draped dress; it hugs your body perfectly. "It goes well when your hair is down." She notes and looks at the shoes, "Okay. Let's try shoes."

Unlike the dresses, the shoes were easier to match with your dress: Voyou slingbacks, or just quintessential black leather heels. The same goes for the small pouch just for your phone and cash to take you to Hotel Olympia, the destination of your first meeting.

"Perfect," Ningning awes, "This will be your look for your meeting." She locks eyes with your reflection, "Do you like it?"

"Yes," You breathe, and she claps her hands in delight. "We're taking it." The latter then eyes at the accessories, "One last!" She snatches a white silk twill scarf with beveled ends and styles it around your neck.

Now you don't recognize the girl in the mirror. You eye her with awe as you run a free hand from the top of your neck; down to your chest. The reflection inclines her head to the side.

You are going to be this girl next week, and you can only hope that your attire alone can coax your potential benefactor to sponsor you.

The ride from Hanyang University to Hotel Olympia is twenty minutes. 

Upon entering the hotel, the biting chill nips your skin, eliciting a shudder from you, and with your free hand, you rub your bare arm. No one seems to mind your presence. 

"Should've brought a jacket," You shudder, and a voice behind your head interjects:

But as if any of your jackets can match your attire. 

A snort leaves your lips as you scour the lobby of the hotel. 

Hotel Olympia is the largest hotel group in all of Korea with Lotte trailing behind them. Your eyes scour the area for the front desk and lock eyes with the hotel receptionist. With a smile, you approach the employee. 

"Good evening, miss." She greets, "Is there anything you need?"

"Yes," You clear your throat to steel your nerves while your feet tap against the polished marble floors. "Can you point me to Bicena Olympia?"

She fixes her posture and gestures a palm towards one of the double doors to your left. "Through that door." You follow the direction of her hand and bow at the older woman, "Thank you." Shuddering, you enter Bicena Olympia: the restaurant of Hotel Olympia: white, clean walls, cloud-like chandeliers, polished saddle-brown floorboards, and elegant yet comfortable furniture; to add life to the restaurant: it's decorated with carefully selected plants and priceless paintings. Guests from all over the country fill the walls of the restaurant with hushed chatter, laughter, the cluttering of utensils, and the clinking of champagne glasses. 

"Excuse me, miss." One of the restaurant's staff approaches you. A man, no older than twenty-five, sporting a neatly pressed suit. His hair: gelled and slid back. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Oh, yes - for Miss Yoo." 

The gentleman nods, and folds his hands behind his back, "Follow me." He turns and strides toward one of the vacant tables - you follow behind him as he pulls out a seat for you. "Thank you," You tell the man before he bows and returns to his podium. 

According to Jimin, she'll be joining you shortly. She's caught up in a meeting. You take this opportunity to fix your appearance via your phone's camera. 

From the entrance of Bicena Olympia, there emerged a woman no older than thirty-four, wearing a black long Cady dress with a plunging neckline, exposing the valley of her breast down to an inch above her navel and white heels. Her hair is styled straight and loose, and at the base of her neck lay a single gold chain necklace, emphasizing her prominent collarbones. Her right hand secures a shoulder bag, while the other, a neatly pressed, double-breasted tailored coat with red lapels.

Her hazel-colored eyes scour the restaurant, looking for a college girl with a white scarf. 

Your nails tap against the tablecloth as you wait patiently for your date, ignoring the biting chill that keeps brushing against your skin. You felt a presence behind you, wondering if it's a waiter you crane your neck - only to be stopped when you feel someone draping a thick piece of cloth over your shoulders. Hands grasping your shoulders delicately. 

"Oh-"

"Thank you for waiting, darling." Your skin tingles as you look up, pupils dilating, jaw-slacking as a familiar woman with hazel-colored eyes locks with yours; they light up with mirth as her plump, red lips curl to a bemused smile. 

"You," You breathe, inhaling her subtle but expensive perfume. The scent is so intoxicating and warm. With notes of coffee, white flowers, and vanilla, it's the perfect mix of sexy and sweet. It suits her. 

"Good evening to you too, Miss Seol." Karina chuckles deeply. Your stomach twinges blissfully at the sound as you shift beneath her intense gaze. Oh, wait - she remembers your name? Oh, lord. 

"Good evening, Karina." You stammer as one of her hands plays with your scarf. She hums absentmindedly and takes a seat across from you and as she did, your eyes shamelessly follow her graceful physique. 

Holy shit, she looks hot-

"This is a pleasant surprise," Karina starts as she knots her fingers together and shoots you a playful smile. Your cheeks dust pink. "I didn't expect to see Joohyun's pretty student so soon." 

And you didn't expect to have your potential benefactor as your dean's half-sister, either. Shit. 

"And I you, Yoo Jimin." You counter and mirror her smile. The older woman guffaws, but you didn't miss her eyes wandering from your face to your attire, and your skin tingles at her attention. "You look wonderful, Y/N." She puts her bag to the side of the table. "Are you hungry?"

Your stomach growls, and your cheeks flush as you sheepishly rub the back of your neck. "Yes - I'm hungry." 

A knowing smile graces the older girl's lips as she directs her gaze to the person behind you and nods. "Dinner's on me, Y/N. Order what you like."

A waiter immediately comes to her and distributes the menu. Karina swiftly opens it, her hazel eyes scouring her options before looking up at the waiter. "I'll take a steakhouse-style ribeye." She shifts her gaze toward you, "And for the lady?"

Your lips swiftly moved the meal that Ningning suggested for you to order:

"I'll take the balsamic-and-rosemary-marinated florentine steak." An approving look dances on the older woman's face as the waiter jots it. "How about your drinks?"

Karina looks at you, beckoning you to order first. 

"A cranberry mocktail," The waiter nods and turns his attention to the other woman, "And as for you, President Bae?"

Hold on a minute - president?

"A Sauvignon Blanc," A grin breaks from the waiter's lips, "Excellent choice, President Bae." He takes a step back. "I'll come back with your orders in approximately 40 minutes." Without another word, the man bows and strides away from your table. 

"President?" You muse as a smirk creeps on the latter's lips. "Surprise, surprise." Karina picks up her empty wine glass and examines it. You watch her intently. "I'm sure you have questions." Her eyes suddenly dart back to you, and your skin crawls. "Ask ahead, darling." 

You purse your lips, "The waiter called you president," You tread carefully, "Are you, by chance, the president of Hotel Olympia?"

"Clever girl," She purrs, and you shrink in your seat, "Yes, Y/N. I'm the president of Hotel Olympia." Damn.

She gestures for you to ask again. You clear your throat, "The name you used in your account, why use Yoo Jimin?"

Karina hums, "Yoo Jimin was the name my mother initially thought of before Irene's father changed it. They still let me keep it for casual occasions that aren't related to business." 

Your lips form to an 'o' as Karina leans close, "Is that all?"

"Yes," 

"If that's the case," She puts down her empty wine glass, "What about you, Y/N?"

A playful smile tugs your lips, "What do you want to know?"

"Your information, likes, dislikes." 

You followed through with her request, telling her everything she has to know, and the woman paid attention to every word you said. And it feels odd having someone like her listen to a girl of your caliber. 

"-I'll sponsor you," She finalizes. 

You gape at her, "Really?"

"Of course, princess." You nearly threw yourself out of the chair as your hands gripped your purse as she continued: 

"You're a catch, Y/N." She admits with honesty brewing in her eyes, "And something tells me that you're someone who must be kept at high maintenance. And I'm here for it. You chose me out of all the women out there, and you chose well." 

Your face warms at her praise as Karina leans close, "So, pretty girl, will you be mine to spoil in return for your time?"

And who are you to deny her?

"Yes," You breathily answer, and the older woman approves with a wolfish grin. "Perfect,"

And speaking of perfect- 

"Excuse me, President Bae." The waiter returns with a tray of your ordered steaks. The older woman leans back, giving them space as they distribute your meal and your drinks. Setting it down on the table, he straightened up, but not without opening the wine and pouring it into her wine glass. 

"Do enjoy your meal," 

"Wait," Karina held up her hand, halting the server before reaching into her bag. Sliding a small roll of bills out, he pulled at least five of them free to hand over. "Thank you, President Bae." Judging by the way his smile brightened, it must've been an enormous amount as the server bows deeply before leaving.

Karina snaps you back to reality by motioning to your plate. "Dig in, sweetheart, and if you want to eat anything else, speak up - it's all on me." She grins as she picks up her glass by the stem and swirls it. You watch as the liquid sloshes while the woman inhales her wine before taking light sips and releasing a sigh of contentment. Noticing your stare, she snaps her gaze to yours. You quickly look away with pink dusting your cheeks, and the older woman's lips curl to a smirk. "Say, do you have plans this weekend?"

You bring your attention back to her, recounting your plans and finding none. 

"No, I don't have plans this weekend, Karina." You blink, "May I ask why?"

"You'll see," The raven-haired beauty grins, "Enjoy your dinner, Y/N." 

Your jaw slacks upon stopping before the boutique of Patek Philippe. Karina stands beside you and puts her hand on the small area of your back. Despite her coat hanging on your shoulders, a mild shiver runs down your spine. "Come, Y/N." She beckons gently as she leads you inside the boutique. 

You stand there while the retail clerk and your benefactor talk, unsure of what to contribute to their discussion, and finally, the sales clerk gestures a hand towards the three models displayed inside a glass casing. 

"There are only three of them in the world," She proudly begins, "And it just so happens that our branch won all three of them in the auction, President Bae." Karina turns to you with a kind smile, "Pick whatever you want, sweetheart." 

The sales clerk expectantly looks at you. You snap your head to the display of watches before looking back at Karina, "Is this okay with you?"

"Consider this a sign of our beneficial partnership, darling." She goes behind you. Your breath hitches as her snake past the coat and traverses to your waist, delicate yet firm as she presses her front against your back. Karina drops her voice an octave lower, sending goosebumps trailing in her wake as she husks: 

"So choose," 

Fuck, you bite your lower lip, trying to focus while the older woman's hands rest on your hips, gently squeezing them. 

 "That one," You stammer as you point to the two-toned watch. The older woman smirks from behind as she moves to the side, leaving your back cold and aching for her warmth. "Excellent choice, miss." The sales clerk grins before shifting her gaze to your benefactor. "I'll just prepare some paperwork, and then she can wear it." 

It didn't take long for the transaction to be processed. By the time the three of you reached the counter, Karina pulled out her wallet. You watch, as her well-manicured hand gracefully takes out a JP Morgan Reserve credit card made of laser-etched palladium and gold and hands it to the register. Seconds later, Karina's sitting while the retail clerk assists you with the watch. 

"There you go," The clerk beams while you study the accessory. 

Patek Philippe reinterprets the design of its most complicated wristwatch by offering it for the first time in a "two-tone" version combining white gold and rose gold, along with brown opaline dials. The watch is accompanied by white gold cufflinks featuring a brown opaline center adorned with a hand-guilloched hobnail pattern and a rose gold Calatrava cross. 

It's beautiful, elegant, and practical. 

"What do you think, Y/N?" You turn to the latter and smile warmly at her with gratitude swimming in your eyes. "It's beautiful. Thank you, Karina."

The wealthy woman returns your smile and stands up. She holds out her arm for you, beckoning for you to intertwine your hand on her arm, and you happily indulge her as she leads you to the exit with the clerk trailing behind and bowing as you two leave the store. You examine the watch again with a small smile dancing on your lips. 

"Beautiful," Karina praises, and you tear your eyes from your watch and lock eyes with the hazel-eyed beauty. "Yeah, it is beautiful."

"I mean you," She grins, and your cheeks warmed. "But yes, I agree the watch is beautiful." 

Bemused, you asked her: "Are you this flirty with someone you just met?"

The older woman shakes her head sideways, "No, pretty girl." You freeze as she reaches to brush a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "I meant what I said." 

Eyes wide like a dear caught in headlights, your face flushes, and you clear your throat as you step back. Karina smirks, amused by your reaction, before looking at her wristwatch. 

"Oh, my," She returns her gaze to you. "Didn't you say that the university dorm closes at 10 PM?"

"Yes," Your stomach drops as you instinctively look at the time. 

9:35 PM

"Shit," You mutter under your breath. 

"I'll drive you there," She chimes as she reaches for her bag. "I'll call my secretary." 

Before you can say anything, she already has her secretary on the line. 

"Yes, we'll drive her back to Hanyang University." Karina turns to you, "It isn't safe for her to return there alone. Yes, we'll meet by the entrance of the hotel, have the car ready." With that, she ends the call and turns to you, and raises her arm, as if to escort you. "Come, Y/N. Our ride awaits." 

Elated, you intertwine your arm with hers as she leads you to the entrance of the Hotel Olympia's building, where a sleek black Rolls-Royce car is waiting with a short-haired brunette no older than twenty-seven leaning against the passenger door. 

"Good evening, Miss Bae." The secretary turns her head to you and regards you with a bow. "Miss Seol." 

Karina opens the passenger door for you. "Let's go, darling."

Twenty-three minutes later, Karina's car parked near the entrance of the university dorm. 

"Thanks again, Karina." You bashfully tell her as you take the coat off your shoulders and hand it back to her. The older woman takes it with a smile while her secretary focuses her eyes in front. And just before you open the door, your eyes widen as your body numbs as you turn to her, Karina tilts her head, her gorgeous face contorts with curiosity. "What is it, darling? Did you forget something?"

"No," You clear your throat, "No. I forgot to ask this earlier, but, what about your sister?"

She quirks a brow, bemused. "What about her, sweetheart?"

"What if she finds out?"

The older woman exhales softly and scooches next to you as she puts her hand behind your back. A mild shiver couldn’t help but run down your spine, thanks to her fingertips gliding along your exposed skin. You almost forgot that your dress was semi-backless. 

"I'll still sponsor you, darling." Her lips curl upward, "Our arrangement doesn't concern her. We're consenting adults aren't we?"

You nod in agreement and she pats your back gently, "Good. Oh, and before I forget, send me your bank account and other apps you use for monetary transactions in the morning, yeah?"

"I will," A grin escapes your lips as she retracts her hand, and you open the passenger door, but before closing it, Karina calls out to you. 

"Oh, and Y/N?"

"Yes?" You breathe as she leans close enough for you to see her lashes, "Have a nice evening. I had fun." 

"You too," You lean away, "I had fun too." When you finally close the door, you turn away from the vehicle and stride toward your dorm with a smile that is raised on its own on your lips. 

You curse as your phone pings with notifications of Karina sending you $50,000. 

"Woah," Ningning grins as she leans away with you as more students file through the lecture hall. "Told you it worked like a charm!" You mirror her grin as she playfully swats your arm and drops her voice to a whisper. "So, who is she?"

You drop your head, "The Hotel Magnate of Hotel Olympia." 

The latter's jaw slacked, "Karina?" She blinks, "As in Karina Bae? The half-sister of our dean?"

"Hush!" 

She gasps, "Holy shit, Y/N. What if her sister finds out?"

You rest the side of your face against your palm while the other hand toys with your pen. "She said she'll still sponsor me," A small smile curves your lips as you look at Ningning as you repeat Karina's words from last night: 

"Our arrangement doesn't concern her. We're consenting adults, aren't we?"

The latter hums as she takes out her MacBook, "So are you guys exclusive or?" Your brows furrowed. Come to think of it...you look down at your watch. "I don't know. I didn't specify." The ash-blonde-haired girl hums, "It's safe to assume that you are unless you clarify it." She boots up her device and frowns as your peer's chatter amplifies. 

"Professor Jung is late." 

Your brows raise as you turn to the vacant teacher's table, "That's a first." 

Ningning shrugs, "Doesn't matter. We have free time - wanna grab a coffee-"

"Settle down students!" An authoritative voice booms inside the lecture hall, immediately silencing them. Your body bristles as the dean's slender figure enters the classroom sporting a matching black pleat short jacket and slit skirt that reaches below her knees and black heels. 

"Holy shit," Ningning snickers as she turns to look at you while the dean puts her clicker atop the desk. "Since Professor Jung is dealing with a personal emergency, I will teach in his stead." She raises her head, and your eyes lock with hers for a brief moment. 

Your posture stiffens as she turns her body towards you, "Miss Seol, tell me, what was your last discussion with Mr. Jung?" 

Your friend nudges her elbow against yours. You shoot her a look before standing up while she hides her smile as you inform Irene of your last discussion with the professor. 

"Very well," She turns and clicks on the projector, "Thank you, Miss Seol. Be seated."

An inaudible sigh of relief leaves your lips as you sit down. Your friend leans close to you with a shit-eating grin as she whispers:

"Chill, Y/N, you look like a sinner sweating inside a church." 

You nudge her side and hiss quietly at her: "Shut up." she just stuck her tongue out to you and you roll your eyes at her in response as the dean's voice fills the lecture hall, continuing Professor Jung's lesson.

Thirty minutes in, and your phone vibrates inside your pocket. You sneakily take a peek to see who it was: 

Karina

And she was asking if you want to have lunch with her if you're not busy. 

You're not

You fought the urge to smile as you reply with yes. 

She'll pick you up ten minutes after your class with the dean. 

"Gigi invited me to have lunch with her," Ningning says as she gathers her things. "That means you have to find a replacement for me as your lunch buddy."

"It's fine," You tell her as you pack your things and sling them over your new bag. "Karina invited me to have lunch with her too."

"Nice," The latter grins. "So, see you after lunch?"

"See you after lunch."

"Oh," She snaps her head back to you. "Don't forget to ask if your arrangement is exclusive or not!"

A chuckle rumbles in your chest, "I will." And you make your separate ways. 

"Your sister will see you," You mused as you approach the older woman who was leaning against her Bentley. 

Karina pushed her Hugo sunglasses to her hair, giving her luscious locks a slid-back look. The raven-haired woman was wearing a black brushed ribbed-knit top with matching tailored sailor pants and boots. The fit complimented her lithe body. On the base of her neck is a golden chain necklace. 

The older woman grins as you stand a few feet away from her. "You make it sound like I'm your paramour." 

A small smile dances on your lips, "You just got off from work?"

"It's a slow day today at the office," Her hazel-colored eyes run down your body, "And I see that you got yourself a new look." 

You look down at your attire: white, monogram Jacquard cropped jeans, a plain white shirt, and ankle boots, all from Loius Vui, just like the attire of Karina. 

"Needed a fresh look," You tell her as you check out your attire. "You like it?"

"It suits you," She smiled before opening the passenger door for you. "Shall we get lunch?"

 "Well, isn't this a surprise," Karina mused while you and Ningning gaped at each other with her arm draped around who you presume is her benefactor: Giselle who's wearing a two-piece red suit and black heels. 

"Karina," Giselle regards before looking at you and smiling, "Y/N." 

Your benefactor turns to you, surprised. "You know each other?" 

"We're friends," Ningning interjects, "I'm roommates with Y/N. Giselle knows her through me." 

"I see," 

"Be seeing you two," The conglomerate looks at her sugar baby, "Let's go to our table." Before separating, Ningning sends you a wave while Karina leads you to your designated table with her hand pressed against the small area of your back. 

"Here you go, darling." She pulls out a seat for you before sitting across from you. "Order what you like. It's on me." She winks before a waiter comes and distributes the menu. 

"So," You clear your throat as soon as you say your orders to the waiter. Karina inclines her head to the side, waiting for you to continue. "Are we exclusive?"

The raven-haired woman arched a brow, and her expression hardens. "Do you plan on cheating on me if I say no?"

"What," You sputter as your arms frantically wave as if saying no. "No, I mean - I was just clarifying-"

"Yes," Karina's features soften with mirth, "Yes, darling. We're exclusive, so relax." 

"Oh," Your cheeks flush. 

"Why? Are you seeing someone?"

"No," You squeak. Your face burns as you clear your throat and straighten your posture as you repeat your answer: "No." 

"Very well," She toys with her utensils, and a wolfish smirk plays on her plump lips. "Has anyone told you that you look cute when you're flustered?"

Your face flushes, "No," 

"Then I'm the first," After some time, she drove you back to Hanyang University fifteen minutes before your next class begins.

"Thanks for the lunch," You tell the older woman as she brings you to the other entrance of the University. The latter hums, "My pleasure," Karina then clicks her tongue, "And Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"A little bird told me that you guys have a year-end party next week," Karina begins, "And that you'll have a three-day vacation after that due to the preparations for your university week, correct?"

"Yes," You confirm as you shift your weight on your other foot. "Why's that?"

The hazel-eyed beauty tilts her head sideways, "I was wondering if you'd like to spend those days with me in Japan. I have a business convention in one of my hotels in Tokyo." She tells you with her arms folded behind her back. 

A vacation with a drop-dead gorgeous woman? How could you say no to her when she's asking you so nicely?

"I'd love to," You beam at her, and her features glow. 

"Wonderful. You have plenty of time to prepare until then..." She trails off as she approaches you and takes your hand. 

You incline your head to the side, watching her with intent before your eyes widen, your cheeks dust pink, and your skin tingles as she presses her lips against the knuckles of your fingers. 

"Be seeing you," Karina whispers as she lets go. But before you enter the main building, your sugar mommy calls out your name.

"Yes?"

"Call me 'Jimin' next time we meet," She graces you with an award-winning smile. "'Karina' sounds cold coming from you, darling. So call me Jimin instead."

"Okay then, Jimin."

With that, you enter the main building.

"Woah," Ningning snorts, "She invited you to a business convention with her in Tokyo?"

You hum as you browse through a fine selection of clothing. 

"In Tokyo?" Your friend repeats, and you give her a look, "Yeah? What about it?"

"Oh, nothing," She leans against the pillar and smirks, "It's just that you two seem to hit it off, I guess." You spare a glance at her, "Why? Did Aeri invite you to a vacation with her?"

"Yep," 

A snort leaves your nostrils, "Then that makes two of us." 

"Yeah," She concedes with a sigh as she begins to look for her new clothes. "You're right. What was the theme of our year-end party again?"

"Las Vegas-esque," You click your tongue, "I don't know, as long as we dress like the people attending casinos, we're fine." 

"So, we're supposed to dress like sluts, then?"

You and Ningning snap your heads at each other before letting out a laugh. "No!" You rebutted, "We're supposed to dress like new money or something." 

"Oh," She bobs her head, "Right."

"If you want to look like someone who goes to a casino," A steely, feminine voice interjects. You and Ningning straighten your backs as you slowly turn around to face Irene Bae, the dean of your college department. 

"I suggest you wear semi-formal attire." She turns her gaze to your friend. "And not dress inappropriately, Miss Ning Yizhou." 

"Good afternoon, Miss Bae." You and your friend say in unison as you bow to her. "At ease, ladies." 

"Sorry about that, Miss Bae." The ash-blonde hair sheepishly remarks before the dean softens her sharp features with a small smile. "I see that you've already chosen your attire, Ningning." She moves her head in your direction, causing you to lock eyes with obsidian-hued crevices. Your back feels as if someone brushed a cold hand against your skin. 

"What about you, Miss Seol?"

"Oh," You sputter as you feel small beneath her gaze. "I haven't picked one yet, Miss Bae."

The older woman hums, "If I may," She strides forward. Both you and Ningning instinctively make way for the older woman as she picks an outfit for you: A oversized, double-breasted jacket in vinyl leather and a gold belt. But despite that, you focus on her proximity and how her subtle but expensive perfume fills your nostrils. Intoxicating. 

"Try these," She coaxes, "But this is only my suggestion, Miss Seol." 

You tentatively take it from the latter, "Thank you, Miss Bae." 

"A pleasure," She looks at your watch. You fight the urge to hide it as an approving smile graces her lips. 

"Nice watch, Y/N. No wonder why there's only two of the same model left." She raises her arm and pulls back her sleeve to show you the black variation of the watch. "I have the second-to-the-last model." Irene grins, the sight surprising you. "I suppose that you and I share the same pleasures in life." 

"You and me, both." You agree with a steady smile. The older woman regards you and your friend. "I best be going now. You ladies enjoy." 

"Goodbye, Miss Bae." Ningning bows, and you follow her example. Once she's out of earshot, the latter turns to you with her lips curling upward t a smirk. "So, you're going to try her suggestion?"

You raise the pair before looking back at her. "I think I will. I mean, have you seen the way she dresses?" Your friend agrees, "Alright, try it, and I'll give you my feedback."

"Thanks, Ning." 

"Holy shit - Y/N, is that you?" You snap your head as Yeji's voice fills your ears despite the EDM music blasting over the speakers.

"Yeji!" You return her greeting as she approaches you and Ningning. The older girl wore a white tweed suit and heels. "Geez, girl." The chestnut-haired girl scours you from head to toe, "You look amazing!"

"Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" You counter, and she playfully hits your shoulder, "Yeah - but seriously, you look good."

"Thanks," You wink at her before she pats your shoulder, "I see Lia at the other end of the room. If you wanna drink and hang with us, our table is open." 

"Duly noted," You tell her before she nods her head and then leaves to join her group. While waiting for Ningning to arrive at the party, you mingled with your peers with a mocktail in your hand. Despite it being a year-end party, alcoholic drinks are still prohibited. 

"Finally!" You exasperated upon seeing a familiar face. Ningning rolls her eyes at you as you hand her a drink. "I thought you aren't going to show up." 

"And waste the outfits we bought for this party?" She scoffs, "No fucking way. You look good, by the way. Miss Bae has good taste." 

"I agree," You nudge her by the arm. "Yeji told me I looked amazing earlier, too." The latter cranes her neck, "What is it?" She snaps her attention back to you, "Oh, nothing." Then, Ningning smirks. "It's just that you've gained some attention." 

"The good kind, I hope?" You follow her example; indeed, Ningning's right. You've attracted stares from your peers. 

"Can't blame them though," She shrugs, "You've been wearing pants and trousers for the whole semester. The sight's refreshing." 

A scoff leaves your lips, "I feel like I'm giving the 'ugly duckling' effect." 

"So about your arrangement with Karina," A hum reverberates from your chest, "Did you clarify?"

"Jimin and I are exclusive," You sip your drink, and the beverage smoothly runs down your throat; you sigh. "Speaking of, are you and Aeri exclusive?"

"Yep," She emphasizes the 'P', "Gigi made it clear the moment we first met." 

"Hey, you're Y/N, right?" 

Ningning stands close to you. Her expression sharpens as she whispers: "Oh no, a man is approaching." 

"Who?" 

"Beats me," She whispers back. "I ain't leaving you." 

"Thanks,"

"Excuse me?"

"Hello," You greet him with a clipped tone as a stranger approaches you. The first thing that strikes you is how strong his perfume smelled. Oh, god.

"You're Y/N, right? From Professor Jung's class?"

"Yes?" 

He grins and takes a step close. You instinctively step back while Ningning observes him with her purse ready. "I was wondering if you girl want to join our table?"

Ha! No, thank you. But your friend spoke on your behalf.

"No thanks," She grabs your arm, "We're okay right where we are." 

"It'll be fun," He tries, and you hide your shudder as your skin prickles under his gaze. Your posture bristles as you drape your arm around Ningning's waist. "No, thank you." 

He is about to say something when another voice chimes in from behind. Cold, steely, and cutting. But vaguely familiar. 

"Are we interrupting something?"

On cue, all three heads snap to no other than the Bae siblings. But your focus is on Karina, whose expression's harsh, and her gaze: piercing, and dare you to say hostile?

"Good evening, Miss Bae," All three bow before the two powerful women, "I'll get going now," The guy sheepishly excuses himself, and your benefactor's face softens, but that was cut short when her haze-colored eyes traverse on your attire - did her eyes just darken?

"Miss Bae, what brings you to the year-end party?" 

"Karina and I just finished discussing matters regarding University Week. She'll help sponsor the program." 

"Oh," Karina's lip curled upward while she ran her eyes up and down your body, sending goosebumps in her wake. "That's right. And my, Y/N. You look ravishing." 

"Thanks," You breathe to calm your nerves as you fought to say her name. Did Irene arch a brow between you and Karina? Or was it just the strobing effect of the lights in the venue? You mentally shake your head sideways as you focus on another fact that the sisters look good - Karina looks good - ravishingly beautiful. The woman wore a soft white double lapel slashed cropped jacket finished with a single button fastening matching a soft white asymmetric mini skirt and platform thigh-high black boots. And to finish off the look, she styled her hair damp and slid it back with Bulgari rings adorning her well-manicured hands. 

"I chose that attire for her," Irene chimes and Karina snaps her attention to her older sister before raising a brow at you. You chose to ignore it. 

"I see," Karina notes absentmindedly, "No wonder I spot a change in style," she adds with a tone you can't decipher. 

"Hey, Y/N!" Yeji's voice interjects before she gets cut off by another voice:

"Oh - they're with the dean-"

"It's fine," Irene raises an open palm, "We'll be on our way." 

Oh...

Karina sends you a coy smile before leaving with her older sister, leaving your eyes to trail after her as they disappear from view. 

"Damn," You whisper while Ningning snickers, "Easy girl, we can't have the floor all slippery with you drooling after her." 

"Oh, shut up." You hiss at her while Yeji and Lia invite you and Ningning to their table. 

"Excuse me, ladies," You announce, "But I need to go to the comfort room." 

"Want me to go with you?"

You held up a hand, "No thanks, I can manage." 

Yeji nods in understanding while Ningning chatters with Yuna. 

The door creaks open as you enter the clean CR to check on your appearance. Not long after, another woman enters the CR, but you didn't bother to raise your head to see until you feel two slender arms snake around your waist, pressing your back against her strong front as her voice fills the room:

"I didn't know that you and my sister saw each other." You hastily turn away from the sink as Jimin's slender figure stands in front of you, your back pressed against the marble sink. 

"Easy, darling." She purrs, "It's me,"

"Jimin," Your breath hitches as the woman before you smirk in delight. 

"I said it once, and I'll say it again," She leans dangerously close to your face. You hold your breath as her perfume fills your nose, "You look ravishing, darling. Exquisite too, if I may," Your hands grip her arms as she continues:

"But the next time you go shopping, call me." Her cold breath fans against the skin of your face. "I'll make time for you." 

Shit, she's too close - you can't think!

You instinctively lean away with your heart ramming harshly against your ribcage, "I will," You fought the urge to slap yourself for the way your voice sounded. "You look beautiful, Jimin. Nice touch on the hair." 

A grin escapes her lips, "I knew that you were attending. I had to dress to impress you, baby." 

"And I am," You tell her breathlessly as she pins you gently against the sink as she moves her head to the side of your face, her breath fans against the outer lobe of your ear, eliciting a shudder from you. 

"But I don't think I can leave you alone tonight, sweetheart. Especially when they have their eyes on you." She moves her head to your neck, her lips brush against your skin, and you bite your lip to prevent an embarrassing sound from coming out. 

"Shall I do something about it?" Your hoarsely suggested, and the older woman chuckles. "You can indulge me, pretty girl." 

A gasp leaves your lips as she pecks the side of your neck. Your skin thrums at the action as your hands shamelessly traverse to her back, flushing her against you, eliciting a dark chuckle from the woman's lips as her other hand goes up to your neck, then at the back of your skull where she takes a handful of your hair and gently pulls it back, your look up at her, eyes dark and glazed.

"I know I have such an effect on you, darling." She rasps, her voice an octave lower. "I'll be blunt, baby. I want you the moment I saw you in Bicena Olympia." 

Your lungs betray you as the latter presses her hips against yours. "Will you grant me this?"

Not trusting your words, you give the simplest form of reply by pecking the corner of her lips. Jimin returns it by locking her plump lips against yours, swallowing your cries of delight before pulling away, her hazel-colored eyes dark, almost abysmal as her sister's. 

"I'm taking you home," She gasps, and you don't have a problem with it. 

Of course, the Hotel Magnate would be staying at the penthouse of her hotel. And that same hotel magnate has her legs spread with you in between. Karina's skirt and boots are haphazardly discarded somewhere on the floor, while your double-breasted blazer jacket is loose. 

Her hair was strewn beautifully all over her pillows a blissful moan leaves the older woman's lips as you lap her juices. Her hand grips your hair, eliciting a hum from you as she rocks her hips against your tongue. Your hands fist the sheets as you flatten your tongue to let her do as she wishes and groan when your nose bumps against her clit. 

"Fuck, keep going, baby." She purrs, "You do me so well - fuck!" She drops her head against her soft pillows; a groan leaves your lips as her walls squeeze your tongue and your hips rut against the mattress, hoping for some friction, but Karina tugs on your hair as a warning. You obey your mistress as your lips traverse from her core to her clit and bite it. The hazel-eyed goddess sighs in satisfaction. 

She's close, by the telltale signs of her fluttering walls, and a surge of wetness touches your tongue, and you didn't hesitate to lap her essence until her thighs shake from overstimulation - that's when you pull away and rest your cheek against your thigh while you squirm as your arousal dampens your underwear - and it's starting to become uncomfortable. 

"Good girl," She praised and caressed the top of your head. "I will reward you." Karina presses a kiss against your forehead. 

"Stay here," She whispers, "I'll get something, okay?"

"Yes," You pant as the latter slips away gracefully, and while she's away for a moment, you inhale her scent in the sheets and sigh blissfully. She smells divine. 

The bathroom door opens, and you look up to see Karina standing - naked, allowing you to see her lithe physique. Her body is carved with perfection. Your eyes travel lower and - your jaw slacks. Trapped to her hips was a strap. 

A double-ended strap. 

Karina's eyes ate you up predatorily as she stalks towards you, but your eyes were focused on the long, thick strap between her legs. You watch, slacked-jawed as she sits on the bed with her back against the headboard. Her hazel-colored eyes glaze with lust as she rakes her eyes at your figure. 

"Strip," She commands, and you didn't need to be told twice as you quickly, haphazardly discard your clothes, leaving them to flood her marble floors. "Good girl," She purrs as her slender hand pats her thigh. "Now come to me." 

You oblige by crawling to her. Your cunt flutters due to exposure as you crawl towards your mistress with hooded eyes, Karina watches you intently as you straddle her strong thighs, hands on her shoulders while the pads of her fingers dance around your hips while her lips press butterfly kisses around the pillar of your neck before going behind your ear:

"Ride me,"

Say less

With a puff of your breath, Karina helps you align your sopping cunt to her faux cock. The latter grunts as you slowly sink into her thick cock. You bounce up and down, pussy rubbing against hers as you dig your nails against Karina's shoulders, hearing the older woman hiss, you loosened your grip, muttering: "Sorry-"

She cuts you off by flushing you against her and thrusting her hips, faces contorting with pleasure, and her lips curl to a wolfish smirk when your lips let out streams of moans. 

"It's okay, baby - oh fuck. Keep doing it. Ride me, harder." 

"Fuck," You mewl as your hips meet her thrusts, your jaw drops into an 'O' shape as your release a particular squeal that has Karina groaning and caresses your ass before she spanks it roughly, emitting a whimper from your mouth as you hide your head in the crook of her neck while her lips attack your neck by sucking. Walls clenching and throbbing around her, you were so slick and wet that your juices dripped down on her thighs. 

"Yeah, just like that." Karina gasps, letting out a guttural moan as the other side of the strap digs against her clit. Karina thrusts her hips upward in motion with yours, fucking you hard and deep that your vision grew irregular as a strange pressure grows on your stomach, your insides pulsing and tingling - you're close.

"Karina," You mewl, and you press yourself harder against her, your position coming off as intimately close. "I'm close - please-"

"Keep going," She growls, pounding into you harder to the point that her thrusts are shallow. Both bodies are covered in a thick sheen of sweat as beads of exertion form on both your foreheads. The smell of perfume and sex permeates in the air accompanied by sinful noises coming from you and the older woman. 

The pressure grows strong inside of you, losing all inhibition as you kiss the older woman - searingly, all-consuming as she swallows your moans. Her arms snake around you, pulling you impossibly closer to her hot body as you come undone with a gnawing urge to say something - call out the title the woman deserves. 

But you refuse at the embarrassing possibility, so instead, you pull away and bite her shoulder, earning you a moan from the older woman as she cums. Both ends of the strap are covered with your juices as her hips stutter. 

Fire consumes your body as you lift your head from her shoulder and gently kiss the mark you left on the woman before resting your head on the crook of her neck, both chests heaving harshly for breath while your mistress brushes a hand against your back. 

You lean away from her, and you're greeted with an equally spent Karina whose lips curl to a satisfied smirk. "Do you want me to clean you up?"

You shook your head sideways, not wanting to leave her arms. 

"Very well," She pecks your lips as she grabs the duvet with her other hand to cover your lower parts without pulling out of you. She adjusted the both of you while her faux cock stays inside you, coaxing a soft moan out of you as she whispers in your ear: 

"Sleep, pretty girl. We have a flight to catch tomorrow."

"I'll take a shower," You said. 

"And I'll join you," Karina said, "It'll be faster." She said.

Well...

The bathroom echoes with your shared moans as the older woman plows into you with utter control as she presses you firmly against the marble wall. 

You don't know how long you two were at it. All you could do was claw Karina's back in pure bliss as water runs down your bodies. 

"Shit," Karina mewls, "Fuck, baby. You're so tight!" She emphasizes by roughly pounding into you as the other end of the dildo rubs against her walls deliciously, causing you to throw your head back against the wall. 

Despite the running water, it doesn't conceal the sounds of obscene activity you and the older woman are doing. 

You cry out and wrap your arms around her shoulders as she hits the spot that makes you see stars. You dig your heels against her ass, forcing her to thrust deeper into you. Her faux cock blissfully rubs against your walls as she fucks you into the wall. 

"Are you close?" She moans when you kiss her Adam's apple before forcing your head against the wall with her other hand. "Answer me, pretty girl." 

"Yes," You whine and clench your walls for good measure. 

Karina's hips stutter before she pistons her hips at a harsh pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head with profanities befalling from your lips. 

The older woman watches you with carnal delight as you writhe under her ministrations. 

You look so pliant, so exquisite - hers. 

The hazel-eyed beauty bristles with feverish desire as she combs her damp hair with her free hand, giving her a messy, slid-back look that makes her devastatingly attractive before she puts her hand back on your hips, keeping you still as she bullies your cunt with her cock. 

"Close," You cry out, "Oh - so close-" There's that urge again, and you refuse it by kissing the older woman who returns it with equal energy as you cum so hard it's blinding. 

Your entire body goes slack, and Karina holds you up with her hands caressing your hips slowly. 

"You okay?" She bemused before pecking your bare shoulder. 

"I don't think I can walk," You mumble as you close your eyes. Karina hums and rests her head against your hammering chest. A whimper leaves your lips as Karina shifts her hips with the strap still lodged inside you. Karina coos in your ear encouragingly, rubbing your hips to ease you, and pulls the strap out with a wet squelch. 

"Fuck," You moan as the strap slips out of you. Your beaten walls ring with sensitivity, and you can't tell if it's better or worse now that Karina pulled out. 

"Did I do too much?" She whispers as she holds you securely. Her touch is gentle and soothing as she caresses your back and waist. 

"Maybe?" You cheekily reply, "I was too busy enjoying it to notice." 

This elicits a grin from the older woman as she pecks your lips. "I'll carry you back into the room. We have a flight to catch at 6 PM."

"Thanks," You sigh as you wrap your arms around the latter and flush against her warm body as she brings you to her room. 

The trip to Tokyo was smooth sailing. 

The older woman always had her arm on the small area of your back whenever you go out together, even during her meetings with clients and investors. There's never a dull moment with your sugar mommy. You exit the stores carrying bags of Gucci, YSL, and Loius Vui. Designer brands? You name, you have it!

These shopping sprees paired with dinners at the finest restaurants in the city had you ready to give Karina what she wanted: you. 

Not that you minded. Especially when Karina gives you mind-blowing orgasms; you'd let her do anything to you, even slip a vibrator inside you without any chances of coming undone.

You bite your lower lip to suppress a whine as the device edges you once again. Your hands grip the utensils while Karina talks with one of her loyal clients with a dangerous gleam dancing in her eyes. Your walls clench around the vibrator, your arousal dampening your underwear. You can only hope that it won't stain your dress. Your thighs quiver whenever you move as the vibrator strikes deeper, forcing you to bite into your pasta to prevent an embarrassing moan from leaving your lips. 

Hot and bothered, you shakily reach for a glass of water as Karina turns to look at you, her carnal delight hiding behind the mask of faux curiosity. 

"How about you, darling? Do you like the food Chef Nakamoto made?"

"Yes," You say through gritted teeth as Karina adjusts the dial to 'high'. 

"Well," Sakura, the client, chimes with a warm smile. "I enjoyed the dinner. I'll have my secretary have the documents ready by tomorrow. Thank you, Miss Bae." 

Karina stands up, and you follow her example as you three bow together and head back to her penthouse suite. 

The balcony allows you to have a good view of Tokyo's city lights. Aside from the pool, there's also a canopy bed good for a couple a few feet from the pool. 

You hold on to one of the railings as Karina leads you by the pool while the device vibrates inside you. You grip her hand, garnering the attention of the former as you look at her with pleading eyes. 

"Can I cum, please, Karina?" You begged, "I can't hold it any longer." 

God, begging is so unbecoming.

But the older woman replies with a vile smirk as she raises your hand to her lips. "It entices you, doesn't it?" She sneers, "Being denied over and over again in public." 

"Karina-"

"Easy, princess." She chuckles as you clench your thighs together. "Why don't you join me in the pool tonight, hm? The moon looks nice." 

You swallow hard and nod, not trusting your words as the woman pecks your lips. "Your swimsuit is in the living room, and meet me in the pool once you're dressed."

"Okay," you whisper against her lips before she walks past you. 

With shaky legs, you enter the living room and fetch the swimsuit that lay atop the cushioned settee, and changed in one of Karina's bathrooms with the vibrator still inside you. 

Upon reaching the pool, Karina's already in the pool with her hand securing the stem of her wine glass. The woman is wearing a goddamn revealing swimwear, backless and sexy, giving you a good view of her amazing back view. 

"There you are," She turns around with a smirk. "I thought you took care of your inconvenience in the living room." 

You shake your head sideways while the low hum of the vibrator squelches inside of you. "I could never do that when you can do it better." 

She guffaws and pats the ledge of the pool. "Sit. You've been a good girl." 

You oblige and sit on the ledge of the pool as Karina makes her way to you. The pool sloshes at her movements as she stops before your closed thighs. She places her drink on the ledge before using both hands to pry your thighs apart. You breathe in her scent as she comes closer, glazed hazel eyes watching your faces as one of her fingers moves the rim of your swimwear and underwear, eliciting a soft mewl from you as the pads of her digits play with your slick folds. 

"Look at that," She bemused, "You're so wet." 

And she pulls out the vibrator, eliciting a moan from you as she turns the device off and puts it on the ledger. The older woman kisses the inner area of your thigh before pulling away to sit on the shallow side of the pool. 

"Join me," She coaxes, and you didn't need to be told twice as you drop to the pool, the cold, yet oddly satisfying water soothes you as you swim towards the older woman who has her arms resting on the ledges. She uses one hand to beckon you closer and sit on her lap. 

Your slick rubs against her skin and mixes with the water while you keep your hands to your sides, unsure of the outcome if you allow yourself to touch her. 

Karina inclines her head as she snakes both arms around your waist, pressing you firmly against her lean body. "It's okay," She whispers and assaults your neck with butterfly kisses. "You can touch me, baby." 

A sigh escapes your lips as you play with the ends of her hair while ignoring the throbbing in your core. 

Karina's hand caresses your back, "You've been a good girl, aren't you?" She inhales your scent and sighs. You've been wearing her signature scent for the entirety of the vacation, marking you as hers. 

She pulls you for a soft, sensual kiss. Her lips are plump and warm as it molds and moves against yours. Your hands cling to her nape. Her hands move freely against your straddled figure while your thighs trap her below you. A deep rumble echoes from her chest as your bodies begin to heat up with desire. 

You kiss her until your lungs burned. 

And when you feel your lungs constricting, you pull away with batted breath. 

"Keep up with me, darling." She teased, "I'm going to reward us both." 

Before you can ask, her hand goes down to your pelvis and moves the fabric aside, and thrusts three fingers into you.

You arch against her, moaning in sinful delight for receiving what she had been denying you for hours.

"Fuck!" You mewl as her other hand grabs the back of your hair and pulls it back, leaving your neck open and vulnerable for her as she sucks on every exposed expanse of your skin until it changes to a hue of light pink that'll turn to blue, green and wine-like stains the next morning. 

"So sensitive," She teases, and you clench your walls in retaliation earning a soft gasp from her as more of your slick exits your folds. 

"So drenched," She adds as she deepens her digits, earning her another moan from you as you allow your head to fall on her broad shoulder as she fucks her fingers into you. Your nails dig into her skin as she increases her pace, and the pool sloshes with your ministrations as you roll your hips against her hand. 

It didn't take long for her to rub a spongey area of your walls - your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you come undone unannounced. 

"That's a good girl," Karina praises as she helps you ride your high and gently nips your neck. "I hope you're not too spent yet, darling." She rasps as she licks your jaw, making you whine before pulling away and kissing you gently. 

"Come," Karina helps you get up and situates you on the ledge as she grabs a towel stationed near you and wipes your skin dry before reaching your legs. She parts them, eliciting a mewl from you as she lightly dabs the mess you left in between your legs. 

"Easy, baby." The Hazel-eyed goddess grins, "We're not done yet." Teasingly, she cups your cunt, making your thighs slightly jump at her soaked hand and shooting you a wink when you whined. 

Karina's touches are soft, teasing, and sensual. 

And it's driving you crazy as she helps you slip out of the pool and to the canopy bed. 

She laid you gently against the sheets while she took off her swimsuit and disappeared inside. Minutes later, she comes out with a strap harnessed in between her legs, gesturing for your clothes to be removed.

You clumsily take the swimwear off your skin, leaving it on the floor as the woman joins you. 

Karina perches her knee on top of the soft mattress and crawls toward you like a lioness cornering her prey. The sinews of her muscle showed as she looms above you, her toned arms cage your sides, and her legs caged yous. Unabashed, you look at her lips before raising your head to capture them. You release yourself from the towel and latch onto her back. The black-haired woman moans and presses you against the mattress as she kisses you with an all-consuming passion. Karina's hands glide to your wrist and pin them to the sides of your head as she grinds her faux cock against your seeping cunt. 

Your sugar mommy pulls away and attacks the expanse of your neck with kisses that morph into generous bites. You close your eyes and allow your head to fall on the soft pillows. 

Your hips jut against hers - the older woman bites your collar in return as her arousal drips down her thighs. 

"On your stomach," She commands. You obey.

"Hips up," Karina growls. You obeyed, allowing her to see your swollen cunt that was already dripping with arousal. "Good girl," She purred and slapped your folds, making you cry out as more of your essence dripped down.

The older woman uses your slick to coat her cock before looming above you, her hands trapping you on opposite sides before her right hand moves to your neck, applying pressure, causing you to gasp and jut your hips at her dildo. 

Karina's other hand digs her nails against your neck, making you hiss in both pleasure and pain as she thrusts her entire length. The head easily parts your folds as she glides into you with one swift motion, impaling you entirely with her cock. The sheer girth of her shaft spreads your cunt until your walls are stretched thin around her length. You find yourself screaming in a mix of pain and erotical delight as you claw the sheets and you gasp for air, practically winded by the first thrust. Compared to her fingers, you feel full. Your walls fluttered, pulsing around her as Karina sets a brutal pace.

"Karina," You cry out as her hand leaves your neck and kisses your shoulder. Her hips hit the curvature of your ass. You can feel her abs flex and stiffen at her pace. 

"Y/N," She moans, holding you down by your shoulders as she jackhammers inside you while the bulb presses into her walls. You both feel hot and dripping in sweat as she meets every roll of your hips. Your head falls against the pillows, letting the older woman have her way with you as her lips chase your neck and bite your skin, making you cry out as she spanks you. 

"Mine," She growls against your ear and gently bites it. "You're mine, baby. Do you understand?"

Your cunt clamps vigorously, sweat finally dripping from your temple as lust has finally taken over you, moaning with abandon, your mixed juices now trailing down your thighs, body covered in both sweat and Karina's marks. 

Her patience runs thin, and she thrusts harshly, "Answer me, pretty girl. Do you fucking understand?"

Your stomach coils, and your arms shake under her thrusts as she keeps her body close to yours. 

"Yes - mommy." 

Oh shit

You hope she didn't hear you. 

The older woman digs her nails into your hips, pounds becoming more desperate, feral. Her hands grope any skin available for her as her need for release pushes her closer to the edge. 

You aren't far behind her, either.

And she knows this, too. 

The way your stomach coils and twists, toes curling, back arching, and your moans were high-pitched, sobs choked, and your mewls were breathy as she begins to thrust with abandon, you drop your head as you cry out her title, incensed by your wails, her pace inhumanly fast and-

You let out a loud moan as you felt her cock brush your g-spot, making your back arch against her front. A vile grin breaks into Karina's lips as she repeatedly aims the spot, making your arms weak and your thighs quiver with every penetrative slam. Moan after moan leaves your lips.

"Are you close?"

"Yes," You whimper with your eyes closed. A broken sob escapes your lips when her teeth dig against your nape, sending shocks of pleasure shooting right through you. 

"Repeat my title, baby." She rasps. 

What?

"Mommy," She clarifies, "Call me mommy when I fuck you." 

So she did hear...

"Are you close?" She repeats. Another broken sob leaves your lips as you replay to her: "Yes, mommy - fuck, I'm so close."

Karina bends down to press a kiss on your marked shoulder before stilling her hips as you cum. Your walls fluttered as the older woman cums too. 

She drops her head against your nape, and her warm breath fans your sensitive skin as her arm wraps gently around yours. Swallowing thickly, she pulls out. 

You let out a frail moan as more of your cum leaks out of your abused cunt. The older woman delicately helps you lay on your back, finally allowing you to see her. 

Karina looks beautiful in the afterglow of sex, her pristine appearance is slightly flushed, and her lips are swollen. 

"Can you do one more for mommy?" She murmurs as she maps your face with light kisses. 

And who are you to deny her? You cup her face and peck her plump lips. "Use me, mommy."

A smirk breaks past her pretty lips. "Hips up," She gently commands. You obey her and raise your hips, wincing at the sore feeling that shoots in your hips. Karina quickly places a pillow underneath your hips as her lips find yours, consuming you again.

Your hands circle her neck as you give in to her kiss, hands gripping themselves on your waist, pressing you hard on her bed as if to keep your scent there, and moaning softly when your tongue breaches into her mouth. 

The older woman grinds her pelvis against yours, smearing your thighs with your juices as her lips latch onto your neck, biting her marks, making you roll your eyes to the back of your skull as shocks of pleasure ripple through you.

Sheer libido sticks in the air as she pushes herself inch by inch. Nails digging against the skin of her back; a breathy mewl breaks past your lips, and the sting of sensitivity ripples through you. Karina hides her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as she further pushes herself deeper, indulging in your moans. 

"Mommy's got you," She coaxes, and her hips begin to move. 

Gasping at the intrusion as she pounds into you with newly-found vigor, your body falls limp, allowing her to use you as she further spreads your legs apart to create more room for her to fuck herself into you, her pace bristling with need. 

"Ah-fuck!" You cry out with ecstasy when she impulsively bites the center of your neck.

Your mistress growls and pulls away with a wolfish grin on her lips as she snaps her lips with need. 

The dark-haired goddess suddenly slows her pace, pulling out until the bulbous head remains, before slamming right back in, and a wanton moan befalls your lips, eyes closing and mouth agape, letting out your sounds of moans of delirium, and Karina is incensed by this and angles her hips in a particular fashion that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, whimpering "Mommy" on the lobe of her ear, driving her insane and increases the power of her thrusts, rutting into you whilst you litter her neck with kisses, all the while leaving red vertical lines on her strong back.

You could practically hear the bed mimicking your trembling legs beneath the older woman as your cunt takes her. The squelching sounds add to the symphony between the two of you. 

The older woman growls and presses you harder, fucking you to her bed, hips snapping back and forth, teeth gritted, beads of sweat rolling down her temple, strands of hair falling to the side of her perfectly sculpted face. 

You pull her close to you, legs trembling as they wrap around her waist, attempting to pull her closer and giving Karina the advantage of pushing her cock deeper inside your weeping walls, hitting your bundle of nerves.

"That's it, baby." The hazel-eyed beauty grunts with effort, her pace merciless, forcing you upward so that she has to wrap her arms around you to keep you in place. 

"You're taking mommy so well." 

Tenderly, she cups your jaw and massages your cheek, startling you as her hips are in contrast to her hand.

"You belong to me now, love." She whimpers as you jut your hips. "Say it, that you belong to me." 

"I belong to you, mommy." You whimpered, causing the woman above you to close her eyes, heart fluttering upon hearing the sound of her title falling perfectly from your lips. "I-I'm close, please, please don't stop."

"I won't," She prompts softly, hitting deeper, the sensation rippling within you overwhelms your body. You're pushed over the edge with a sob as your body racks with pleasure; another orgasm crashes through you like a truck as you fall limply, squirting around her cock. 

But she keeps fucking into you. 

"Mommy," You mewl as you try to pry her off. "Too much," 

"One more," She pants, "Give me one more, love. Can you do that - fuck - for me?"

You can't, your legs feel like lead, your body is already covered with sweat and marks, and your lower region felt like it was about to split in half. But in determination to please your mistress, you nod, with tears welling in your eyes before she moves her hips at a smooth, steady pace. You cry out as the ring of sensitivity and overstimulation shoots in your cunt as she takes you raw, your eyes already spilling with tears as her speed picks up, pulling her closer until your bodies feel like molding together. 

Karina slaps your clit, making you jolt and cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

She kisses you feverishly; she swallows your whimpers as she doubles the pace, making your back arch against her front. 

You cry out helplessly as she throws your legs over her shoulder, allowing her to hit much deeper spots within you and running with effort as her pace becomes sloppy, both walls painfully throbbing for release as your broken moans fuel her and the thin line between pain and pleasure blurred as she stuffs you with her cock. 

"More," You panted and clawed her back for leverage. "I'm so close, mommy. So, so close." 

"You like that, hm?" She pants and moans softly when your stomach bulges from her thrusts. "Like it when mommy fucks you senseless? Treat you like a fuckdoll?"

You screamed as her tip kissed your cervix. You tangled your hand around her locks and tugged it harshly, making Karina hiss and speeds to a despearate pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as the tip keeps kissing your cervix, drawing you closer to your impending orgasm. 

You latch your lips around her neck, sucking and biting her collarbones, and her hoarse moans fill your ears as you bite her Adam's apple, feeling her stutter in her thrusts and punishing you for it by drilling into you at a bruising pace, your vision hazy, your body heavy, skin covered by a veil of sweat as your hands grab onto her biceps or anything that will anchor you from her frantic pace, the skin on your inner thighs burning from the contact, dragging her fake cock in and out of your quivering folds. 

Small hips jutting in sharp precision that she flaunts whenever she has a chance, she palms your cheeks, tilting your head up for a kiss, tangibly tender and sensual compared to her pace. The older woman kisses you gently while fucking you senselessly. 

The coil in your stomach suddenly snaps with the tension, and then comes the onslaught of immense white-hot ecstasy, curling, and roaring like a beast in your stomach, the pressure between your legs immeasurably high. You clamp around her one last time, vision blackening as she throws you to your orgasm, blinding you until it consumes you whole, and you're shaking ferociously.

Karina bites your shoulder and comes hard with a harsh shudder. You held onto her tightly. Lungs panted for batted breath as she cradles you, prepping her kisses all over your face and brushing the stray strands of hair behind your ear as you tremble in her arms. 

"Sh," She coaxes, "I got you. You did so well." She pressed another kiss on your lips, allowing you to anchor yourself into her. "Hang on, baby. I'll carry you to the bed inside, okay?"

Throat raw from moaning and screaming, you nod, and the woman carries you effortlessly without pulling out. You tighten your arms around her, feeling her against your walls as she carried you inside your private quarters. 

She lay you gently against the bed and gently pulls out from your battered walls, and throws the toy somewhere in the room as she lays beside you, her arms automatically finding yours as she flips you so you can be on top of her while the other hand reaches for the sheets so she can keep you warm. 

"Thank you," You croaked as you rest your head against her chest and inhaled her soft scent. 

Karina returns your gratitude with a soft kiss against your forehead and rubs your back softly, lulling you into sleep. But not without hearing her raspy voice:

"Goodnight, darling. And thank you for indulging me." 

"Here we are," Karina parks the car near the university's main building. You tear your gaze away from the window and towards your provider. 

"Thanks, Karina." You lean and peck her cheek before exiting the car. 

"Wait," The latter calls out and follows after you. The ends of her coat dance in the wind as Karina stands beside you. "I'll escort you there." It wasn't a request, but you didn't mind as you offer to her your hand. Karina smiles brightly, her skin glowing as the golden rays of the sun kiss her face, giving her hazel eyes a bright glow as she takes your hand. You walk together. 

"Are you free after class?" She inquires as your footfalls clack against the pavement. 

For her? 

"Yes," 

"Then I'll pick you up ten minutes after classes, yeah?"

"Sure-"

"And what do we have here?" You freeze while Karina whips her head to the back, where her sister - the dean is standing with her hands on her hips with a perfectly arched brow directed at the both of you, her expression: surprised. 

"Irene," Karina greets with a coy grin as you turn to face her. The Hotel Magnate quickly wraps her arm around your waist, pulling you close to her while you bow respectfully towards your dean. 

"Good morning, Miss Bae." 

"At ease, Miss Seol." 

You straighten your back to see that the dean has her eyes on her sibling, and a small smile graces the older Bae's lips. 

"So, when did you start boning one of my students, sister?"

"That's a long story, Joohyun." She looks at you, "Come on, I'll take you to the building." You eagerly agree with your paramour and bow to the dean again before leaving her standing there. 

"What are we going to do?" You whisper to her, and she sends you a wink. 

"She won't interfere, darling." She peers over her shoulder and smirks before returning her gaze to you and kissing you softly. 

"You're mine. Remember that." Karina breathes against your lips. "And my sister can't do a thing about it." 

Fin

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Hi everyone, and welcome to BG3FicReviews! We're a group of writers and fanfic authors who have decided to come together to write reviews of Baldur's Gate 3 fan fiction. We aim to support fanfic authors in our community by sharing the works we love (and what we love most about them) with the BG3 community. **We have recently published draft fic review guidelines and we're ready to start taking on more reviewers! Please send us an ask & tell us more about yourself! Please also send us your email address and/or Discord details so that we can reach out to you! We're very excited for the future! 🙌 If you would like us to review your fanfic, please send us an ask with a link to your work and a short description, and we will add your work to our review queue. Works that are in our current queue to review will be placed in the BG3FicReviews queue collection on AO3. Works we have already reviewed can be found in this AO3 collection here.

*We've temporarily closed submissions to catch up with all our current fics in the queue to review! Thank you to everyone who submitted their work to us. We're honoured that you would allow us to read and review your work! (Current queue: +-68 works 👀)

Thank you for your support and please keep creating and sharing your incredible work!

If you want to meet the team of BG3FicReviews, check out our post here!

Below the fold are our fic submission guidelines, our FAQs, and a master list of all our reviews we have posted!

Last updated: 14 July 2024.

FIC SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

When you submit your fic, please be sure to include the following:

A link to your work & the pseud/handle you publish under (regardless of platform)

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You can submit your fic to us through our asks here. Please note that we won't respond to your ask (unless we need further information) and we will just add it to our queue and will get to reviewing it as soon as we can. Please don't worry when you don't get a response to your ask from us! You'll know all is well as soon as you spot your work in the review collection, which you can check here.

FAQs

We are currently compiling an FAQs master post based on questions from the community! This will be updated as we go, so if you have any questions that don't appear in the FAQs post, please send us an ask! We've gone into some detail about our goals for BG3FicReviews in this post.

REVIEW MASTER LIST

Please find our AO3 collection of works we have already reviewed here. The Wilted Dreams of Baldur's Gate series (Review published 3 April 2024)

A seven-part collection examining Astarion and Tav’s relationship across the game and post-canon. There’s something for everyone in this series with some fluffy slice of life here, a little angst there, and a generous portion of smut.

Thunder Reforged: Rolan x Dammon works (Review published 27 March 2024)

What's hotter than a tiefling wizard with a knack for a well-timed thunderwave? Said tiefling wizard having a rendezvous with his tiefling blacksmith paramour, of course.

The Loving Master series (Review published 18 March 2024)

A series based on the worst possible version of Ascended Astarion as he masters the art of creating his own vampire spawn cohort and inflicts pain and anguish on them in what he has deluded himself into believing is 'kindness'. Tags include: NSFW; dead dove; sexual trauma.

Too Many Burdens to Bear (Review re-published 15 March 2024)

A story based on the once Archdruid of the Emerald Grove Halsin Silverbough and his lover and partner Kiaran, the author's durge OC. Tags include: NSFW; sexual trauma.

[teecupangel]

Dc x Ac Crossover idea

Desmond survived the solar flare and thru events become bruce Waynes sugarbaby

Feel free to ignore just thought it might be an interesting concept

To make this easier for us, we’ll have Desmond transported into the DC world after the Solar Flare. This way, we don’t have to make an excuse why the other DC superheroes couldn’t do something about the Solar Flare or how they learned about it too late.

Or… you know… we can have Desmond meet Batman because the Justice League was able to stop the Solar Flare and that leads to Batman learning about the Grand Temple and meeting Desmond.

Anyway, regardless of how it’s done, the main setup would be that Desmond would set up shop in Gotham because it’s more of his alley. The rogue gallery there is something he can manage and Gotham is under Batman’s purview so he doesn’t normally have to deal with the other DC characters… normally.

In this situation, Desmond would not know anything about Batman or DC as his world doesn’t have DC comics. So when he meets Bruce Wayne in a gala or something where he’s working as the bartender, he just thought of him as a charming rich dude.

A charming rich dude that he sucked off during his break.

But that’s about it.

Then, a few weeks later, Bruce Wayne comes into his bar and they talk…

He serves him drinks and one of his “we have no menu you eat what I want to cook for the day” meal…

They fucked in the small apartment he has above the bar…

Bruce Wayne leaves and Desmond thought that would be the end of it.

He wasn’t expecting anything from Bruce.

And he’s trying to keep a low profile as he build up his information network so he can plan how to to be an Assassin in Gotham without making a mistake that will shatter the order holding Gotham if he was to start building his Brotherhood.

Then…

Bruce Wayne visited his bar once again (always while it was closed) and…

Things spiral from there.

At first, Desmond assumed they were fuck buddies which he didn’t mind.

Then…

Bruce started giving him expensive gifts and Desmond can’t say no, not when his Bleed of Ezio has given him a taste of how nice it was to have expensive good quality things…

And then…

Bruce started taking him to places… high quality hotels… restaurants that need reservation for months just to get in…

Vacation spots that needs them having to use Bruce’s private jet…

It was only when he finally met one of Bruce’s sons, Damien Wayne, who calls him ‘father’s paramour’ that he realized…

Holy shit.

He was Bruce Wayne’s sugar baby.

.

.

On the other side of this story is Bruce who had been surprised (and enjoyed) by the blowjob and had only done a cursory check of Desmond’s identity because… well… he has a history for romancing people who would stab him in the back later on and…

… came up blank.

Desmond has an identity, sure, but it was fake.

Before that…

There was nothing.

So he went to the bar to investigate further and…

They fucked in Desmond’s place above the bar.

After that…

Bruce started to visit to keep an eye on him.

He started to feel bad because he was having sex with someone who doesn’t know he was trying to figure out their real identity (especially when Desmond seems so earnest about how he appreciates Bruce’s visits) so he started… giving him gifts as a way of apologizing without really apologizing.

Then he started taking Desmond out, starting with Gotham to check if Desmond is okay being seen with him then…

He started bringing Desmond to other places, trying to check if anyone would recognize him some way or another.

And feel bad because he is making Desmond bait for whatever past he was trying to hide.

Until Damien called Desmond ‘father’s paramour’ and Bruce realized…

He was too deep in this that he cannot tell Desmond the truth in fear of Desmond leaving him and no longer even caring what past Desmond is hiding.

… oh.

He was in love.

… well, fuck.

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

Gorilla Grodd

The villainous Grodd heralds from Gorilla City, a secluded citadel populated by super intelligent apes.  Therein Grodd was an unscrupulous scientist who built a special helmet that enabled him to control the minds of others. The Gorilla City security force stopped him from using it in the city, but he escaped capture and eventually wound up in Central City, where he ran afoul of Green Lantern and the Flash. Following a fierce battle, Grodd was seemingly rendered harmless after The Flash ‘crossed a few wires’ in his mind control helmet and tricked him into using it, electrifying the primate’s brain and rendering him comatose. 

Upon recovering, Grodd found that he no longer needed the helmet to control minds. This facilitated his escape from confinement and he began devising a plan to take down the Justice League.  This plan entailed recruiting a group of super villains, a ‘secret society’ whose abilities matched up well against The League.  Meanwhile, he used his mental powers to subtly and progressively turn the League against one another, make them irritated by and mistrusting of one another.  This had the effect of weakening the League, causing them to not work well as a team; thus giving the villains a sizable advantage in battle. Fortunately, the League were able to overcome this deficient and Grodd’s forces were defeated.     

Next Grodd formed the Legion of Doom, a conglomerate of super villains who worked in concert together so to better match the newly expanded Justice League.  Grodd insisted on recruiting Lex Luthor into the Legion, seeing him as too significant a variable not to be folded in; a decision that would prove to be Grodd’s downfall.  

Following a botched scheme that involved Grodd’s temporarily turning the earth’s human population into apes, Luthor succeeded in a coup d'etat and took over the Legion, imprisoning Grodd.  The gorilla’s one-time paramour, Tala, freed Grood and he staged an effort to seize back control of the Legion.  Yet he failed once more and Grodd perished in his battle against Luthor.  

Actor Powers Booth provided the voice for Gorilla Grodd, with the sinister simian first appearing in the twelfth episodes of the first seasons of Justice League, “The Brave and The Bold Part I.’  

[limerental]

ficletvember 2024 - day 1

it's my fifth ficlet month! I'll be writing a little fic every day of November again this year and once again, these will mostly be witcher related of any and all canons.

starting off the month strong with a yennskier(/geralt) modern au

Fleeing emotional upheaval, a regretful and nostalgic Yennefer waits backstage for popstar Jaskier to finish his concert of the night-- just the way she used to.

One impulsive midday flight away from the last gasps of a fading dream, Yennefer found herself waiting in the wings of a great performance hall, swathed in refracting light and sound.

A cross-armed security guard stood beside her in the alcove beyond the stage. Even with the call she'd made to his handler, Vespula, before takeoff, she'd had trouble talking her way in backstage.

Had had to scroll through grainy photos on social media feeds to point to for proof, suffering the humiliation of his security's blank looks, pitying frowns.

Though she'd said she would, Yennefer hadn't visited this whole tour, even months since the first show. Too busy, she'd said, when he called some nights. Maybe when Ciri's home from break. Maybe after the holidays. Maybe–

From hundreds of miles away his voice crooned and then softened, phone tucked between her ear and the pillows, the master bedroom as cold and empty as it always was now. If he were there, he wouldn't stand for it. He'd make them talk through the cold distance that had grown between them.

Geralt snored down the hall in the guest room, feeling further away than Jaskier did.

His last tour, when they both were freshly on the outs with Geralt and thought themselves better for it, she'd surprised him often enough that his whole team knew to expect her. She'd slip in through some backdoor, shake off small talk with his wardrobe and makeup crew and lie in wait to pounce after the last encore.

Fresh from the euphoric high of performance, Jaskier was always a living furnace, sweat-slick and dripping glitter, Yennefer's grip on his body possessive and consuming. He could cavort across stage, seduce millions with his vapid pop songs and the thrust of his hips, but afterward, she beckoned and he tripped over himself to get to her and they kissed like lovers torn apart and reuniting after far too long.

They kissed like that every night, brazen and thorough, unconcerned who saw.

She ended up with her own security detail, the fans beginning to recognize her, to seethe with jealousy in Instagram comments, wishing they were her.

Cameras caught their heated embraces and their nights out afterward at fine dining and VIP clubs. Photos of the pair were smeared across the front cover of gossip rags. Kissing in sleek evening wear, in the rain beyond nightclubs, in the backseat of cars.

And then, eventually, it had come out that international popstar Jaskier's mysterious raven-haired paramour was a married woman who lived in the quaint countryside and had a teenaged daughter and a doting husband at home, and the whole thing had blown up into the affair of the decade, several high-profile appearances needed to explain the whole thing away.

“No, you see,” said Jaskier, the fool wholly in his element in the midst of spinning a story about his life-long friendship with Geralt, how he had hated her intrusion into his life until he hadn't at all. “Yen and I have some fun. Rarely safe and sane but consensual on all fronts. But Geralt and Yennefer? Those two are destined to be together.”

The stage lights swung in a blinding arc, and the crowd's roar crescendoed. Only a song or two left and then security said he'd slip back this corridor and take a waiting car to the hotel. These days, he turned in early most nights, they said. Don't keep him up too late, he has appearances first thing tomorrow.

As if it had been Yennefer alone who was the impetus behind the sleepless, wild nights from years ago, as if he wouldn't have found someone else to drag along into the spotlight if not her.

These days, they were used to being small, vital parts of one another's lives, to sharing only moments, to knowing their lives unfolded beyond the times they reunited again. Never wholly separate but inevitably apart.

That had always felt good and right. To know Jaskier missed them well enough, loved them dearly, fit neatly back into the family every time, but did not covet the life Geralt and Yennefer had built together. That he had chosen his path apart from that domestic bliss and did not have to feel jilted, unwanted, or secondary.

Waiting in the wings as the last song gave to shouts and applause, Yennefer felt very small.

He didn't see her at first, the shadowed alcove off stage full dark after the blaze of the stage. Only when security stopped him by the arm, stalling his animated flounce down the corridor, did he see her there and grin and throw back his head with laughter.

Glitter on his cheekbones caught the scant light and fuck-- he was beautiful, all popstar surreal and larger than life.

In a breath, he noticed something off in her expression and sombered at once, crowding close to hold her in his arms without asking a single thing.

Clutching him with her fingers caught in his sweat-damp collar, Yennefer thought of the sheaf of legal papers left on the kitchen island beside a vase of flowers from the garden, thought of the empty drawers she'd found upstairs, the quiet of the house closing in around her.

She thought how's that for destined? Destined to slowly dwindle to nothing.

The woman she had been years ago, the one who had kissed him breathless in the wings most nights, would have hurled sharp accusations his way, crafted to cut. If he had stayed with them, then maybe– If he had thought to take his head out of the clouds and join them in that life then–

The skin of Jaskier's neck smelled of sweat and was so warm it burned Yennefer's forehead as she swayed into him and wept.

She had no one to blame but her own misplaced hope.

(And days later, when Geralt found them cocooned together in the hotel room, she did not shout the angry, hurt things that she wanted to, that she would have, and simply took him, meek and apologetic, into their arms.)

[galaxyedging]

Marcus Acacius x MOC with memories of Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Warnings: look at that man, of course this is smutty.

Summary: Marcus needs to unwind after a hard battle.

WC: 1.2k

Sacrifice

Nothing worth having in the world came without pain or sacrifice. Marcus knew this well. It was driven into him when his first love laid cold as he held his newborn son in his arms.

As her body was gently being prepared to depart this world, Marcus's soft touch welcomed his son to this world. He traced the tiny profile that mirrored his own with the tip of his finger. When the babe began to cry, Marcus held his soft head of curls to his lips and added his own muffled cries. 

The next sacrifice was time. Time with the young boy who reminded him so much of his mother, smart, strong yet gentle. The young boy was soon a grown man. Then Marcus sacrificed his peace of mind. His son, as strong and skilled with a sword as his father, went to war. Marcus thought of him often. He thought about how they would be reunited. Would he be able to clap a welcoming hand on his son's broad shoulder, or would their next meeting be in the Elysium Fields? 

The men Marcus led knew nothing of his worries. They knew nothing of the pain in his heart each time one of them had to make a sacrifice. Each time another man's son wouldn't go home because of his choice, it tore him up inside. He longed to be in the comfort of your arms. To hear your soothing words of reassurance. To lose himself in the pleasures of your flesh.

Bone tired from battle and needing a release, Marcus retires to his chambers. He'd asked for a delicate and willing man to be brought to him. While he was away from you, he couldn't bring himself to attend to his needs with another woman. The man who knocked timidly on his door was indeed delicate. Gentle hazel eyes, framed with thick lashes, gaze at Marcus when he opens the door. The younger man smells like flowers and honey as he enters. Marcus wastes no time in stripping the man down, his battle rough hand skim over soft olive skin as he pushes off each item of clothing. Marcus looks down as his own attire. His muscular torso is bare, dirty, and grains of sand cling to the layer of sweat on his skirt. For a second, he wonders if he should bathe until he removes the last piece of clothing from his young lover to see that the man is already painfully hard and willing. 

“You like what you see?” Marcus asks, getting only a frantic nod in response.

Marcus's own cock stirs at the man’s eagerness. Spitting into his hand, Marcus makes a tight circle with his first before dragging it down the man’s length. His hand comes away smeared with pre-cum. Marcus thinks about when he comes home to you, how his fingers come away coated in your slick when he feels how much you have missed his touch.

When Marcus repeats the motion, the young man stifles a groan. “You don't have to hide your pleasure from me. I want to hear it. Besides when I take you, you won't be able to hold back.”

Marcus gives his ball's a light squeeze as speaks and is rewarded with a sweet high pitched whine.

Marcus works diligently, roughly pumping the hard cock in his hand until his chest is covered in cum. He presses it to the chiselled chest of his paramour as he brings their lips together is a bruising kiss. With his cock throbbing against the leather at his loins, Marcus leads the panting man to his bed and folded his lithe form onto the edge of it.  With a ferocity that betrays his graceful beauty the young man scrabbles to get under the last of Marcus’s clothing. 

“So eager.” The older man smiles causing his seldom seen laughter lines to crack through the dirt on his face. 

He stills the hands grasping at his thighs before bringing them to his lips. With his tongue peeking from plush lips, Marcus teases the tips of the man’s fingers. With his thoughts flitting back to how he loves to tease that little bud of yours, having you roll your hips and coat his moustache with your sweet nectar, his cock twitches, wearing down his ability to hold off the inevitable any longer. Silken curls thread between his fingers as he pulls the warm, wanting mouth in front of him to where he needs it. Where he needs to think about opening your hole and slamming himself inside, over and over, until he coats your greedy channel with his seed. The head of his cock barely brushes the parted lips of his temporary partner before another thought comes to him. You, naked and free writhing in his lap until up arch up and shriek in ecstasy.

“Do you know how much power I wield?” Marcus traces the man's lips with the tip of his throbbing length leaving a trial of pre-cum. The man only nods, his eyes blown with lust and awe. “How about I let you have power over me?”

Marcus sheds the last of his clothing before lying prone on his bed. The relaxed position of his body only makes the tension of his rigid cock stand prouder. It only takes a welcome smirk from Marcus for his whore to spring into action. His warm, tight mouth welcomes every inch of Marcus's cock. Marcus whines at the heat around him. Flashes of your face, spit drooling from the corners of your mouth as you enjoy every moment just as much as him, flicker behind his eyelids as he rushes to his climax.

“Stop.” The command is gentler than any that usually come from his mouth.”Come, sit on it. Take your own pleasure.”

More enthusiasm springs forth from his companion as he straddles Marcus's narrow hips and slowly lowers himself. Marcus can tell this isn't his first time. You were not a blushing virgin either when he married you. He has yet to find anything to make you blush. Even breeding you in front of his men only made you wilder for him. 

The memories only served to fuel the fire in Marcus's loins. Taking back control, he plants his feet firmly and drives up into the young man clenching around his heavy girth. The man rambled in an unfamiliar language as his cock, bouncing between his legs, spurts across Marcus's chest once more. With one last wail, a final rope of cum dribbles across the hairs at the base of Marcus’s erection. A few more rough pumps into the tight hole around his fat head has Marcus's cum mixing in the thick thatch of hair. 

The whore was worth the coins Marcus tosses at him before sleeps claims him. In his dreams, Marcus folds you in half, gives you his manhood and his fingers until you scream and tremble for him, again and again until your body gives. The time without you will be worth the sacrifice as soon as he gets your body under his again.

[retiredkat]

Red-UK Magazine Raising the Stakes interview with Jacob Anderson

Must give email address to read the full article

“Jacob Anderson has a very sweet tooth. ‘I’m, like, addicted to sweetness, ever since being in America,’ he says, sipping tea with a sheepish smile. Having come to meet me in North London after dropping his daughter at nursery, the 34-year-old star of AMC’s hit series Interview With The Vampire is sitting with his face towards the morning sunshine, a move unlike the supernatural being he plays. ‘It’s good to have everything in moderation,’ he muses, opening a sachet of sweetener. ‘But the minute you start paying too much attention to quantities of things…’ he pauses, ‘it’s like sucking the joy out.’

It’s an apt metaphor for the show we’re meeting to discuss. Based on Anne Rice’s 1976 novel, the lavish revamp sees Anderson play the brooding vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac as he recounts a life of eternal love and bloodlust to journalist Daniel Molloy (Eric Bogosian). In an era when television feels increasingly bland, the show pulls off theatrical magic with its epic, queer reinvention of Rice’s work. ‘You don’t really get weird stories with scale,’ notes Anderson. ‘And I feel like this show has managed to hit the sweet spot of scale and oddness.’

Having attempted to despatch his paramour Lestat de Lioncourt (Sam Reid) and then moved to Paris with his adopted daughter Claudia (Delainey Hayles), Louis works to untangle his manipulated memories in the second season. ‘There’s a lot of tension building,’ says Anderson. ‘In episode one, in particular, I remember thinking Louis has a tension headache for years. It affects his decision-making, and his outbursts. And he makes a lot of poor decisions in season two.’ There’s a great deal of unresolved trauma, he observes, ‘Louis is very emotionally constipated in that way. I think he’s not quite able to embrace his grief, embrace his first 30 years of vampirism. He’s also unravelling in the present; all of that suppression and repression is coming back to get him.

Therapy is the place where Anderson goes to figure things out. ‘I don’t want to be like a ball of confusion and contradiction. I have two daughters to raise,’ he smiles. ‘I don’t want to be another angry man, because they’re gonna meet a lot of angry, oppressed men in their lives.’ Since playing Louis, though, he suspects the boundaries between fiction and real life have become blurred. ‘There are things about Louis that I justify, like, “I understand this decision, and therefore we’re the same.”’ he laughs. Getting deep into character, I suggest, must lend itself to overthinking. ‘Yeah, I’m a huge overthinker,’ he says emphatically. ‘Sitting here, I just noticed my own body language, and my brain is firing off.’

Despite having been in the public eye for most of his life (both on TV and in his music, which he records under the name Raleigh Ritchie), Anderson keeps a low profile. ‘I’m quite a private person,’ he chuckles. He largely avoids social media, as he has an ‘internal compass’ that guides him towards negative criticism. ‘I think it would be unhealthy to spend too much time indulging in how other people are looking at me,’ he says. ‘I feel like I’d lose my sense of self; the sense of self that I’ve been trying to build up all this time.’

As a child, he was always waiting for adulthood to begin. He moved to London at the age of 17, not specifically to pursue a career in acting, but mainly to leave his home city of Bristol. ‘I have a really healthy relationship with my home city now,’ he says, ‘but at the time, I just wanted to escape.’ He was always resourceful in his pursuit of opportunities. ‘In the beginning, I would get coaches up to London at four in the morning to get to an audition at nine. And I would do that a few times a week. And then if I stayed over for some reason, I’d stay at like a backpacker’s hostel for £19.’ Since that point, he’s worked solidly. ‘I think I have a bit of a work thing,’ he confesses. ‘I really feel like myself when I’m working. I feel like I can key into the version of myself that I most want to be, and it gives me a real sense of purpose.’

Playing the stoic Unsullied warrior Grey Worm in HBO’s Game Of Thrones was an ‘emotionally taxing’ experience at times. ‘The challenging bit was giving myself something to do sometimes, like, keeping myself alive in the scene,’ he recalls. ‘Trying to stay present was a real challenge.’ But it also proved to be a valuable learning curve. ‘You don’t need lines, you don’t need words to tell your part of the story. You can do it with your face. You can do it with your body language. So I learned a lot from doing that. But I was ready for it to be over.’

When he finished the show in 2018, he felt burnt out. ‘That last year was so brutal. It was an amazing experience in lots of ways, but I was also very low and so I just took a break for a bit.’ He considered giving up acting. ‘I was just losing my love a little bit,’ he says. The thing that inspired him again was playing recurring character Vinder in Doctor Who, a show that he aspired to be on as a child. ‘That gave me back my play. It re-energised me.’

He certainly wasn’t prepared for the phenomenon that Thrones would become. ‘It was really surprising,’ he recalls. ‘Whenever we went through the press for it, it felt like being in The Beatles or something. But when we were making it, it was really intimate.’ In any case, he isn’t driven by conventional measures of success. ‘The processes are really important. I’ve really learned that, for me, it doesn’t matter if the thing is good. If making it isn’t a pleasant experience, or joyful in some way, fulfilling or cathartic, then it wasn’t worth it. I don’t really care if something is, like, quote unquote, a hit or success, if making it was miserable, you know?’

What really drives Anderson, is creating work that helps people feel seen; and the enthusiastic response to Interview With The Vampire (plus an early season three renewal) has proved that it’s resonating with audiences on a deep level. ‘To be a part of something that people take into their hearts so much is really special,’ he says. ‘Through music and films and TV was how I learned how to be a human, you know?’ He pauses, looking deep in thought. ‘To see that I’ve contributed in some way to something that does that for other people gives me a sense of “it’s the right thing to do”. Like, I’m still doing this for the reason that I got into it.’ He smiles, ‘So yeah, it’s lovely.’”

[sapphicagenda]

Warrior Nun Headcannon:

Bea and Ava managed to keep a fairly low profile as they saved the world (post-Holy War), but there are some viral cell phone videos that captured the final confrontation. Occasionally, someone will give Ava the “you know, you look exactly like that flying girl” routine, but she’s charming enough to play it off as “just having one of those faces.” Bea’s profile can be glimpsed in one video, but her hair was under her conflict-habit (do we have a better term for this?), so she’s rarely recognized. 

However, Bea’s grandmother, in ill health, summons her to visit the family estate. Bea’s parents kept her from her grandmother, so Bea only has hazy childhood memories of her.

Her grandmother is much smaller and frailer than she remembers, but her eyes are still sharp and fierce. Bea stands awkwardly in front of her in the large front parlor, worrying she’s chosen the wrong clothes, as her grandmother studies her up and down. Her grandmother nods once, and then offers Bea a cup of tea as if it is the most normal thing in the world. 

She starts asking Bea about her life, her studies, where she lives... And she asks after her paramour, Ava. Bea is so shocked by this casual display of familial acceptance she completely misses the fact her grandmother used Ava’s name without being told. She tells her grandmother (almost) everything about her new life and they have a lovely afternoon. 

Her grandmother promises they will do it again soon as she leaves. 

Unfortunately, a few weeks later, a black car pulls up outside the apartment she shares with Ava, and a man in a dark suit tells her that her grandmother has passed away. She numbly accepts the envelope and flash drive he hands her. 

Ava holds her while she has a good cry about losing her only accepting family member just as they’d reconnected. Later that night, Bea opens the envelope and can’t believe it’s not a joke. Her grandmother is leaving almost her entire £500,000,000 estate to Bea.

Ava plugs the flash drive into Bea’s laptop and the only thing it contains is a video file. It’s a recording of Bea’s grandmother describing what terrible parents her son and daughter-in-law have been and that they are getting next to nothing. But, “to spare Bea the agony of deciding their fate herself,” she is leaving them an annual allowance equivalent to the average salary in the UK, which is £30,000. If they try to contest the will, they don’t even get that.

What does Bea do with £500,000,000?

She starts a foundation, of course! She reforms the OCS outside the influence of the Catholic church (which is in shambles anyway) and puts Mother Superion and Camila in charge of redefining their mission. Their headquarters also offers community spaces and services for at risk women and youth. 

The End

[alexanderlightweight]

Greetings and loves.

Warlock Alec as Magnus's assistant please

hey <3 thank you and same to you!

i hope you enjoy how this goes! it's part of the tethers of fate verse which is where baby!alec ends up in the unseelie realm. it's a bit different than just alec being a warlock but he does have magic

lumine

-

“High Warlock Bane is no longer taking any appointments for the rest of the evening.” Alec says without even looking up, he can sense nephilim presences and he doesn’t care what they think they want or need, Alec isn’t letting a single other person take up another minute of Magnus’ night.

“Oh, I think he’ll be interested in this.”

Alec looks up at the smug, arrogant voice and blinks, staring at the group of three nephilim in front of him. The male looks vaguely familiar considering shadowhunter lines but the dark haired girl is the one Alec can practically taste a connection with.  One of his very sideways nephilim relations then, he thinks with a scowl. The blonde is dangling a very familiar necklace and Alec blinks at it, honestly astonished and fairly furious at the sheer audacity.

Alec knows that his magic is spiking and he doesn’t care.

The shadowworld is in turmoil and Alec keeps a low profile for his own safety and that of Magnus and Tessa’s. That does not mean he is interested in playing little mind games with baby nephilim who don’t even consider the shit they’re trying to pull.  Alec is the first line of defense when it comes to Magnus and the sanctity of their home. If Alec didn’t make sure Magnus wasn’t inundated with requests, he’d never get a moment alone with him. It’s possible that Alec is only have such a bad reaction because he hates Camille so fiercely, but the fact that after all this time, pieces of her and Magnus’ toxic friendship keep showing up, irks him.

“Alexander, is something wrong?” Magnus calls from the couch, looking as cool and composed as usual, his normal entourage respectfully attending him but never quite touching Magnus with anything other than admiration.

Alec’s normal temper is even and cool but when it crests, there is nothing to stop the cold storm of his wrath. Magnus’ eyes widen as his breath mists and he rises, shooing away his retainers as he steps down and closer to Alec who gives him a scowl and crosses his arms.

“What is wrong.” Magnus says, because he won’t ask the same question twice and Alec doesn’t huff, he won’t give the nephilim the satisfaction of a divided front.

“These nephilim are hoping to bribe their way into an appointment with you.” Alec murmurs, his voice as soft and deep as the moan of winter wind being strangled by the trees. I found their methods crude enough; it was the bribe itself that is the problem.” And then, because they haven’t been bonded for years for Alec not to know exactly how to push Magnus’ buttons, he summons a portal and sends Magnus a toothy, barely feral smile and says, “have fun.”

—

Magnus stares at where his darling has disappeared and turns, staring at the three nephilim who have upset his boy. He’s about to demand an answer when he realizes several things at once. The necklace Magnus once gave Camille as a sign of their friendship is being held in the air. Magnus feels his breath leave his lungs and then it reignites with fury.

“Why did you bring that?” Magnus asks, voice sharp, because he is not going to meet with these nephilim for a mere trifle of a poisonous friendship.

“Oh please—” blondie scoffs, “everyone knows that you’ve been trying to get this back ever since you and your lover broke up.”

“My lover?” Magnus asks, because he’s gone to great lengths to protect Alexander’s place in his life from prying clave and nephilim noses. But never with the intention that another might be named as his paramour instead of his bonded partner. That alone would be enough to ignite Magnus’ own fury, but for it to be Camille, this is so much worse. Magnus would make that clear, but he has more important things to be doing, like checking in on the man he loves. “If you want to make an appointment, bring something worth my while.” Magnus scoffs and he summons a portal, about to step through it when a pressure against his personal wards and a small cry of pain make him turn.

“Do not grab warlocks without permission.” Magnus snarls and he thinks the burns on her palms a well-paid price for her audacity. “Make an actual appointment, if you desire my attention.”

Magnus portals to their lair and focuses for a moment, trying to pinpoint where exactly Alexander went. Not to Tessa and not to Ragnor — who loves to bitch about Camille with Magnus’ boy — and, ah.

Magnus blinks as rage resettles into his system and the portal he makes shatters wards as he steps through into the unseelie realm that Alexander so rarely goes without him.  It’s a concession and only given because Magnus can never be sure when the wild magicks that rest under Alexander’s skin will awaken and drag him off onto another wild hunt.

“Beloved—” Magnus croons when he sees his boy and he bites back the rage at seeing Alexander curled up with others.  Alexander never minds others touching Magnus the same way Magnus minds others touching his Alexander. Partially, because of how Alexander was raised, and partially because Magnus knows that the unseelie hate that Magnus claimed Alexander as his own. That they have never forgotten and never forgiven that Magnus was part of the reason the Spiral Labyrinth claimed Alexander at all.

Alexander pouts up at him, eyes glossy from whatever he’s inhaled since coming here and Magnus hisses, not having expected whatever it is to kick in so quickly.

“Come home with me?” Magnus asks gently, not yet approaching because there are several viciously smug unseelies smirking at him.

“No.” Alexander says, tone sulking as he turns and presses his face to the bare shoulder of an unseelie guard.  Magnus wants to rip away the skin that is daring to touch his boy, but he doesn’t. This is something he has to allow no matter how furious it makes him.

-

there is a lot of backstory that i'll have to write into notes for this lmfao

alec isn't quite a warlock, he's not actually an unseelie but he's no longer nephilim as he should be. also if you're wondering about the timeline. uh, no one knows when alec was born or where he's from. faerie rings don't work in the same magic and time as the rest of the world. he's been Arawn's kid for a couple centuries at this point

[vacantgodling]

a guide to: amon

we're back with another one. special shout out to annika for giving me the DRIVE to finish this lmao

transposed under the cut!

SLIDE 1: A GUIDE TO: AMON -- a man with literally no fucking chill. another monstrosity by yours truly @vacantgodling

SLIDE 2: BASIC INFORMATION pt. 1

FULL NAME: AMON

in GALERE those who are not of nobility literally do not have surnames. they’re not considered important enough to have them.

ie: erecia, terian, asahel, tamhas, vira, miss. shanin, knox, etc. none of these characters have surnames

HOWEVER, amon has a secret identity — or could’ve had one, its complicated — that many of these non-noble characters don’t know about: 

OCCASIONALLY KNOWN AS: CORIANDRUM FARRAH

after amon was attacked by the gang THE KEYS and his mother was killed, he was found and saved by a noble family: lord and lady farrah. unable to have children themselves, the two wanted to adopt the young boy, despite his many scars from the attack, to serve as their heir.

there are 2 alternate universe aus where amon does stay with the farrah’s and becomes their heir ⟶ the role swap au & the fiance au.

however, in canon, amon runs away from them after he heals at about 12 years old and returns to the slums of halifax, which are his home.

SLIDE 3: BASIC INFORMATION PT. 2

AGE: 29

BIRTHDAY: JANUARY 29TH

GENDER: CIS MAN

SEXUALITY: GAY. EXTREMELY KINKY. WE WILL GET TO THIS LATER.

OCCUPATION: MANSERVANT AT THE CHATEAU AUX AISLES D’OR

however, amon is also a member of the slum-gang THE LOCKS, who are in direct opposition to THE KEYS. THE LOCKS are run underneath the leadership of knox, a man who is also amon’s father figure.

despite their closeness, the two still butt heads.

knox wants to focus lock efforts on keeping the slums safe for everyone who lives there. however, amon knows that they will never be safe if the keys continue to stalk their streets at night. he wants to cut the head off of the proverbial snake—and take out their leader once and for all!

the only problem? well. 

the leader of the keys is THE KEEPER.

SLIDE 4: KINKY DETOUR✨PLEASE IGNORE IF Y’AIN’T LIKE SEX✨

a non-exhaustive list of amon’s kinks

impact play (actual fisticuffs turn him on), being restrained, orgasm play in any capacity, breath play (he has a huge oral fixation & choking on dick is his favorite pastime), cock worship/rimming, rough sex to the point of dubcon, anything “primal” (ie: wrestling, biting, scratching, growling, etc), blood play, degradation/humiliation—he is a BRAT, skin sensation or temperature play (such as ice/wax), exhibitionism/voyeurism… and he’s generally experimental. you get the picture. 

the man is insatiable.

SLIDE 5: GENERAL APPEARANCE:

HEIGHT: 6’2” (~187cm)

EYE COLOR: light brown; almost hazel

HAIR: dark black; short and choppy. his hair is actually naturally curly but he straightens it to appear more “dignified” as part of his act. 

BUILD: tall and lean; upside down triangle lookin’ ass. he doesn’t find himself particularly handsome.

there are 2 photos of amon to display how he looks. the first is a close up shot of amon--he has short cropped hair in a messy style, and sweeps on the left side over his brow bone. he has a few pinkish colored scars that criss cross his neck and he is making a smarmy expression. the second photo is a full body (sans feet) shot of amon bloodied and covered in bandages. the scars are revealed to cover most of his upper torso and one of his eyes is blackened.

SLIDE 6: SCARS

as a child, amon and his mother were attacked by keys; leaving him both an orphan and on the brink of death. miraculously (and with medical intervention) amon survived, but the attack left a mark on him—mentally and physically. 

to this day, amon hasn’t said what exactly the keys did to him to leave such marks. but nearly every available surface of his skin, including his genitals has some form of scarring. the worst scars are on his back. 

he is somewhat self conscious about them only because people can become uncomfortable about them. 

there is a photo of the backside of amon that showcases the scars on his back. the largest is one at the near center that goes from the top of his shoulder blades crossing diagonally down to his tailbone.

SLIDE 7: IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIPS

KNOX ⟶ as mentioned, knox is like a father figure to amon and he was the one who took him in once he returned to the slums after the brief period he lived with the farrah’s. while knox is wise and caring, he is critical of amon’s fight now, questions later approach, and tends to reproach him for causing ‘unnecessary drama’. despite this, he knows amon has the slums and the gang’s best interest at heart, and the two of them never stay mad at each other for long. knox is also willing to help in SOME of amon’s exploits (not all)

ERECIA ⟶ amon’s best friend and right hand man, the two have known each other since they were extremely small, and rekindled their friendship after they both experienced personal tragedy (erecia lost her father, and amon lost his mother/almost died/left the slums/came back). while amon is more verbally affectionate and likes to deflect his inner mind, erecia is someone who (to his chagrin) knows him very, very well. to the point that she is genuinely surprised at how enraptured amon has become with hya. she worries about him.

SLIDE 8: EXPLAINING THE OBSESSION WITH HYACINTHUS SHRAPNEL

this is extremely difficult to explain because in a number of ways, amon doesn’t really understand it either. he didn’t think much of hya at first; and at first, definitely only saw him as a means (the wife of the keeper) to an end (killing the keeper).

its the perfect storm of fucking around and finding out—not that i can blame him. he’s fucked hundreds of people without catching feelings; why should a pompous little lord be different? 

it’s more than just the fact that he can get a rise out of hya as amon can get a rise out of most people if he tries hard enough. it’s more than the fact that he thinks hya is attractive (and he does, immensely so) — somehow, hya is the perfect storm of a stubborn ass prick that fires all of amon’s dog-like synapses. 

he’s extremely lucky that hya feels the same about him tbh, even if its unsaid. idk. they’re made for each other.

SLIDE 9: ASSOCIATIONS

alcoholic drink: fireball shot

food: opera cake (or any sweet really)

colors: black & red

flower: coriander

animal: vulture

zodiac: aquarius

tarot: king of wands

song: king for a day — pierce the veil

[monstroum]

ROUGH TOUCH / Louis

16. my muse bites yours .

the hand which holds the side of armand's neck is gentle but commanding ; louis' thumb presses against the carotid artery , brushing across its' length , feeling his paramour's undead heart there , right beneath his hand . his left arm slowly snakes around the other vampire's waist , pulling him towards his spot on the sofa ( he can hear armand's blood vessels screaming to him closer , closer , closer still ! ) . he was purposely ignoring daniel molloy and his laptop ( we're still recording here fellas ) , too enthralled by the vision of armand's bare throat , perfectly fitting against his palm .

he had felt armand's thoughts brushing against the shores of his mind that evening . rhythmically , like a rising tide ㅤ─ ㅤ pain , discomfort , abandonment ... longing . and though louis refused to cancel this interview , HE COULD HELP WITH THE LONGING . his profile leaned closer to his paramour's neck , breathing in the saffron and wild roses on his skin , pressing small adoring kisses against sandalwood and jasmine ... louis wished he could hide there , in the valley connecting armand's neck to the shoulder . but instead he bared his teeth . dull ones were suddenly made sharp , and , just like that , they sunk into armand's flesh .

louis is lost and he does not care to be found . as he lovingly bit and sucked on his paramour's throat , the vampire produced a small muffled sound . barely a sound ... a vibration against armand's skin . PLEASURE ; he had not enacted this specific ode to intimacy in months ( or was it years ? time had a strange rhythm between those walls ) . he had forgotten how it felt to hold armand's heartbeat between his jaws . to feel the warmth of his blood pour down his throat ... louis tilted his head further to the side . daniel squinted at both of them .

[yourworsttotebag]

fic writing pinned post

My AO3 Profile - currently all Baldur's Gate 3

Sometimes I share shorter thoughts and wip teasers under my writing tag.

I've written a lot about my original character Evie Wimberley, a noblewoman sorcerer with a ton of charisma but not a lot of tact.

I've written the most words about Evie and Gale, but I've been letting her date around (with Astarion, Shadowheart, Wyll, even Halsin). I sort of consider these relationships to exist in separate "save files" so if you don't vibe with any of them that's cool.

I also have a Dark Urge monk, Goneril, who has some ties with Gortash and Halsin.

Who knows what I'll put up next! Maybe a new OC! Origin character ships! Alternate universes! Evie with another paramour! You'll have to stick around to find out!

[ardentpoop]

just the samcrowley and sastiel pieces of this fic I wrote :)

“I have to say… For all my tasteful jesting, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Crowley said, his eyes riveted to Sam as he stalked around the dungeon, rummaging around in all sorts of nooks and crannies in the dark. “No talking,” Sam spat, the picture of misery from what Crowley could see of his side profile. He was, as usual, covered up in what might as well have been four blasted layers of shirts. The younger Winchester’s body was absolutely wasted on him. 

“No looking at me, either,” Sam said, somehow discerning Crowley’s gaze while his back was turned to him. “Eyes on the floor.” 

“You could engage in a bit of foreplay, Samantha darling. I’m doing you a favor here.” 

“Oh, sure,” Sam scoffed, “Out of the goodness of your heart.” 

Just like his brother, Crowley thought. Except Sam had always been… quieter, and deadlier for it. He was harder to toy with, this one. Delightfully less so in the present moment, however, considering the circumstances. Sam was standing before him, then, his head washed in fluorescent light from the single bulb flickering above and a deep frown carved into his face. “Hands,” Sam said, and Crowley was late to respond, witlessly enchanted by the perplexing color of his eyes. Variegated blue-green blooms flecked with brown and gold. He would’ve made a resplendent demon. It was a shame Crowley had to bet on the other one now. “Fucking focus,” Sam growled, grabbing each of Crowley’s wrists and manipulating them onto the armrests of his chair. “The bad-cop act doesn’t suit you, you know,” Crowley observed, as Sam restrained his wrists with leather cuffs, applying more force than was strictly necessary. “Your boyfriends make you look like you’re trying on Daddy’s worm-eaten skin in the mirror.” To his credit, Sam ignored this, pulling an empty syringe out of his pocket and holding it up to the light. “Speaking of,” Crowley continued, “How do I know your little feathered paramour won’t walk in on us? Would hate for Dean to catch wind of this moonlit tryst of ours when the state of your union is so dire.” 

“Cas is running an errand,” Sam said, fingering at the veins of his own forearm until he found one that was apparently satisfactory. “He won’t be back for hours.” 

“Hours. Fascinating.” 

Sam made eye contact with him so fiercely and unexpectedly that a frisson of glee shot down Crowley’s spine. “Don’t read anything into it. I just… couldn’t take the risk.” He’d put more thought into this arrangement than Crowley had initially assumed. Perhaps Sam had walked away from that church with a puncture wound that matched Crowley’s after all. Crowley watched as Sam filled the syringe with a dose of his blood, his mouth watering in anticipation. “It’s not purified,” Sam reminded him. 

“Whatever you say, Moose.” 

“You might not feel it at all.” 

“Now you’re just being coy. The stuff in your veins must be sterling compared to your egomaniacal brother’s. Hell, compared to most human vino. Trust me, I’ve sampled plenty.” 

Sam stared at the syringe like he was inspecting its contents for something. “You are the patron saint of bad taste.” 

“I resent that,” Crowley said, because he’d definitely expected that line to get a proper reaction from the boy. That barely-there smirk that hinted at the same flavor of aberrant affection that Crowley harbored, if he was lucky. The haughty narrow-eyed glowering thing he defaulted to, at the very least. Without warning, Sam was bending down to feel for Crowley’s jugular, a gust of his breath caressing the top of Crowley’s head. “Don’t move,” he said, and plunged the needle in. 

A sigh hissed through Crowley’s teeth as Sam’s blood met his own in a jolt of pleasure, making his organs quake with an exquisitely alien sense of mortality. He squinted up at Sam once the shockwaves had petered out, his frustration feeling bigger and louder than usual when he said, “Well? Your turn. Or are you planning on standing there all night like an uppity schoolmarm?” 

Stone-faced, Sam unsheathed his precious demon-killing knife, shuffling closer until Crowley could smell the sweat pooling in the hollows of his body, snuffing out the more delicate scents of his woodsy deodorant and his sweet shampoo. Crowley had to consciously monitor his own heightened physiological responses, dangerously excited before Sam had even touched him. He’d assumed Sam was going for his exposed neck, but he unknotted Crowley’s tie instead, slipping it from the collar of his shirt with a forceful snap that made Crowley’s wrists buck against their restraints. Sam made quick work of unbuttoning Crowley’s shirt to just above his navel, and then he took a step back to wipe his own forehead with the base of his palm. He offered no explanation when he shrugged off his flannel, letting it fall to the Devil’s Trap on the floor in a crumpled heap, exposing the dark patches of sweat staining the gray cotton stretched over his underarms, and - more importantly - the gorgeous swath of muscle he was typically mysteriously keen on hiding. The moment was so electrifying that Crowley suspected he wouldn’t especially mind it if Sam did an about-face and stabbed his knife directly into Crowley’s drunken heart, consequences be damned. What a way to go, his envious underlings would prattle on amongst themselves when they got the news, Murdered by Sam Winchester, the one true heir. Some say His Royal Lowness came in his pants like a total rube before his soul was dissolved into the ether. 

“Eyes on the floor,” Sam barked, and got up close again, holding the blade aloft, baring his teeth; this boy whose face could launch a thousand ships and burn the topless towers of Ilium. 

Crowley’s euphoria had started to really spill out by the time Sam administered his third injection, staccato laughter wheezing out of him with every stinging cut Sam carved into his chest in the interim. “What would Dean think,” Crowley sputtered, struggling to breathe through his outsized amusement. “Can you imagine? His p-perfect darling Sammy, gettin’ - soiling himself with the likes of me.” 

Sam gouged his fingernails into one of the cuts, making the millions of tiny fires blazing within Crowley leap in delirious unison. “I don’t need to imagine,” Sam said, dark, empty. For all his slicing and dicing, he hadn’t had a single taste yet. It was driving Crowley a bit mad. He tucked his chin to inspect Sam’s handiwork across his torso, blood from the freshest wounds dripping sluggardly into his pants. It took a second for Crowley to register that Sam hadn’t been indiscriminately hacking at him, but had in fact been drawing a familiar sigil. It was the one the Winchesters busted out whenever a member of the Heavenly host was getting a little too handsy. A staggering wave of sympathy knocked Crowley’s heart off-course. “How have you been, really?” He asked, the words tumbling out of their own accord. “Since Dean, and your Elysian squatter’s explosive eviction.” Crowley intentionally left off the supporting role he’d played in said eviction. Sam twisted the knife between his hands. He was anointed in Crowley’s blood from head to toe. Crowley couldn’t wrap his mind around the self-restraint required to withstand the enormity of such a craving. “Can’t complain,” Sam said. 

“Really.”

“Yeah. It never helps.” 

Such a shame, Crowley thought again. Such a shame that this glorious night of indulgence was merely a momentary lapse in judgment on Sam’s part. If not for Dean, if not for Castiel, if not for the rules and restrictions God had hardcoded into his failing universe, Crowley could have had a shot with this kid. He could’ve taken everything he had to give. As it was, Crowley was nothing but a blot on Sam’s escutcheon, and therefore needed to keep certain boundaries in place to protect himself. 

Crowley watched as Sam dragged his thumb through the blood coating his blade and lifted it to his mouth, his eyes glazed and distant as he sucked on the digit, tasting Crowley at long last. 

“How is it?” Crowley asked, too eager, too curious about whether the marriage of his and Sam’s blood in his veins had altered its chemical composition to a detectable extent. “Is it… different?” 

But all Sam said was, “I don’t know.”

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

“You’ll be completely healed in a few more sessions. Four at most,” Cas said, smiling kindly back at Sam from his chair facing the TV. They’d stumbled into a bit of a routine over the past week; Cas meeting Sam in his bedroom every evening to look him over and work on the detritus Gadreel had made of his insides; staying afterward while Sam tried to sleep, or read, or beef up Cas’s pop culture lexicon as the two of them took turns flipping through channels. Today, Cas had landed on an old episode of Hell’s Kitchen. Gordon Ramsay was a whirlwind of wrathful energy on the screen, shouting censored expletives at the kitchen staff, smashing an unsatisfactory plate on the floor to the dismay of the two sous chefs cowering behind him. A sad state of affairs, the narrator overemphasized in a jolly newsman’s drawl. Will Chef Ramsay manage to whip this crumbling team into shape before their time is up? The theatrics onscreen segued into a commercial for antidepressants that featured a little girl spinning through a field of white flowers while a more bubbly narrator prophesied her deterioration and death via a sprawling list of possible side effects. “Uh, Cas,” Sam said, “Can we turn that off? It’s making my head hurt.” It was actually his shoulders that hurt; strung together with a tension that he hadn’t been able to shake since Dean left. 

“Of course,” Cas said, obliging him right away. The absence of fight between the two of them physically itched. Spit it out, Sam demanded of Cas where he couldn’t hear him. Tell me how you really feel. Except Sam’s thoughts never ran totally freely, anymore - you never knew who might be listening in. There were places in his mind that the threads of his consciousness snaked around like diverted streams, instinctively safeguarding him against an ever-looming danger. He always wondered how much of him Cas could see, when he stuck a probing finger into his molecular makeup to suss out the damage. He wondered whether Dean ever interrogated him for details. “It’s really gone, right?” Sam said out loud, keeping his eyes fixed on the blank TV screen. “You weren’t just saying that?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sam.” 

Cas couldn’t read Sam’s mind, although his body’s oldest secrets were most likely exposed to him. Sam wondered whether he preferred it this way around. “Gadreel’s… ” Grace. Such a nice word. 

“Ah. I’m sorry,” Cas said, misunderstanding as he often did, “There’s truly none left. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.” 

Wouldn’t you? If Dean asked? 

“Okay,” Sam said, and, unthinkingly, “You don’t need to sit all the way over there.” 

A cartoonish expression of bewilderment came over Cas’s face, and a part of Sam that rarely saw the light of day writhed with vindictive pleasure in response. Dean can’t teach him this. 

“Here,” Sam said, clearing his books and laptop off the bed and stacking them on the nightstand, patting the space next to him invitingly. “If you’re gonna spend the night with me, you might as well be comfortable.” 

“I have only waning memories of what it means to desire comfort,” Cas intoned, but he took a seat on Sam’s bed anyway, copying his posture; back to the wall and legs stretched out over the sheets, his shoulder brushing Sam’s. “Normally I’d kill you for not taking your shoes off first,” Sam said. 

Cas shot a startled glance at him. “Oh. I’m so sorry. Had I known I was being rude - ” “It’s alright,” Sam said, smiling, hopelessly endeared in spite of everything. Picturing Cas fumbling through the worst of his human phase on his own made his heart ache. “The rules are different for you.” 

Cas’s eyes narrowed to pensive slits. “Why is that?” In lieu of an answer, Sam drew him into their second hug in as many days, letting it last this time. Cas felt like a man. Cas was so much bigger than a man. And yet, Sam breathed easier, touching this body that had suffered untold indignities but was still somehow carrying Castiel, who could resurrect the dead and command the overtaxed thrombocytes in Sam’s bloodstream to march at the exact speed of light, who had probably watched the earth turn for thousands of years before he was permitted to experience it for himself. If Cas’s body was nothing to him, then maybe… maybe…  

“How did I look?” 

Cas’s hands fluttered awkwardly over Sam’s shoulders. He wasn’t quite hugging back, but he wasn’t pulling away either. 

“You’re getting better, Sam. I promise you, the neurodegenerative changes I observed after Gadreel discarded your vessel have nearly - ”

“No,” Sam cut in, viscerally affected by Cas’s clinical wording but unable to tell whether he wanted less of it or more of it. Our vessel, his deficient blood crooned. His and Cas’s, at the moment. His and Dean’s, forever. Sam turned his face into Cas’s neck, a wretched animal mouthing sloppily at the root of a sky-scraping edifice of gold and glass, and clarified, “When you were human. How did I look to you then?” 

One of Cas’s hands settled on the back of Sam’s skull. Still awkward, like he was imitating something he’d seen on TV. Gently support Baby’s fragile head so it doesn’t fall. 

Cas’s mind whirred and clicked for a moment. Then he said, “I suppose the sum of your parts was… nice.” A bitter little laugh leaped out of Sam’s throat. “Ouch.” 

Cas’s hand slid from Sam’s head to the nape of his neck. Baby’s neck muscles are very weak. Keep it under control to avoid incurring serious brain trauma. 

“I meant,” Cas said, clearly trying for a reassuring tone, “that I prefer your complete form. All your rhythmic cycles and interlocked structures. Your distinctive patterns. It’s… hm. What would you call it? Bingeable.”

Sam thought about the discomfort Cas had projected as he mechanically chewed his mouthful of peanut butter and jelly, the wistfulness with which he’d recalled his normal human tongue and normal human stomach. “Bingeable,” Sam echoed, ending their embrace, tethering himself to the dead TV screen instead. “Sure.” 

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

[Scene that takes place before this one excluded]

Don’t cry, Sam, Cas kept saying, while Sam dabbed at the wreckage of his face with the cuff of his jacket. We’ll find him. We’ll save him. Sam’s ability to speak had deserted him the moment he found Cas in the library, lying there motionless and bloody, surrounded by three other bodies, a monument of violated books erected over them like a tombstone. He’d believed - for a horrifying, earth-shattering second - that Cas was dead. That Cas was dead because of Sam. The reality was only marginally less shocking, accelerating Sam’s heartbeat to a hysterical sprint while his own throat attempted to strangle him unconscious. It was Cas. Dean wasn’t supposed to be able to hurt Cas like this. One of the corpses was a teenage boy. Sam had found a backpack drooping by the front entrance, containing sheaves of loose paper and several books. Pages of incomplete school assignments. Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Ellison’s Invisible Man. An anatomy & physiology textbook. A TI-84 Plus graphing calculator and a green PSP. Cyrus Styne, the blocky print at the top of a graded test revealed. Dean was in the wind, and there was a bloodstain in Cas’s pristine white collar that would never come out, and an A-student was crumpled on the floor of their library with a bullet in his brain. Because of Sam. His hydrogen peroxide solution burned the paper cuts along his fingers as he scrubbed at the tacky blood seeping into the hardwood, his eyes puffy and sore. He’d sent Cas up to their bedroom to recover, but not before he pulled him close and pecked him on the forehead, then again on the cheek. I’m sorry, Sam had said, bemoaning the poison in every breath he took and every move he made. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. 

[brooklynislandgirl]

Sinday Ask: The latest circulation of newspapers sit in a tidy line along Lawrence's desk. Small neon tabs stick out from various pages, marking where an executive or Mary believes may be of interest. Nothing flags the front page, the headline and a photo cropped by the fold screaming the scandal of an embezzling CEO. A downfall that Lawrence had no part in, and only now gives attention to for curiosity's sake. "What would be the worst sin you could imagine displayed for the world to pick at, Beth? An infidelity on your brother's part? Patricide by your very own hands?"

Spare a Sinday Thought || Always Accepting

She's draped casually against sumptuous leather, just another pretty thing in Larry's collection of beautifully bizzare trinkets and curios. What passes for a casual Sunday visitation ~after church but not quite in time for brunch~ and for a few moments, she continues to read one of the alternative papers that speak more on the concerns of the average citizen than the big Five that he occupies himself with. She really had expected better from the Times after their journalist strike but it is what it is. An elegant hand turns the page. Another brings the bone-china cup to her lips and she moistens them, lubricates her tongue, with rich dark coffee. "Unfortunately," she says meticulously and at long last, "you probably see my braddah's name or picture in dere often enough. Man no can do wake up in da mornin' wi'out someone wan make commentary in it. Mos' of da time it's about his closure rate, or a scandal comin' from him catchin' somebody bein' stupid." A pause before her eyes flick to meet the arctic tundra of his profile. That crystalline blue of his gaze never fails to steal a touch of her breath. "Which is likely why dey nevah link bo'd ya names in a single article." She knows he has more skeletons in his closet ~perhaps even figuratively~ than she can make an accurate guess of, but then again…a good many of them don't come with jail sentences and press conferences. Instead there are whispers amongst the Traditions of the Janissaries, of the New World Order {and how THEY would love to get their hands on someone like Larry} and a whole host of self-policing entities that neither one can fathom. Perhaps that's why she's so inclined to walk beside him into his sorcerous endeavours, taking on the unrequested Role of Virgil to his Dante. For whatever reason she feels responsible for him. "Hardly t'ink da kine about who he's seen out wi'd or who might be in his bed is really notewor'dy. He's single, properly divorced, and so free to frolic wi' whomevah he likes so long as dey also not marry. An' my braddah would make sure dat his paramour doesn't bring a spouse into da relationship. Oh…oh…wait. Is…is dat somet'ing concerns you? Is he your type, Larry?" She giggles at her own joke. Deep down she suspects that maybe the man has even less interest in a physical relationship than Beth, regardless of the body it comes with. "As f' da Admiral, I can promise you one t'ing. If I were da one t' harvest him from dis ear'd? No one would evah know, nor would dere be any evidence left behind. Be like he nevah existed, an' good riddence." She's never recorded any of the thousands of times she's conceived of, plotted out to the finest detail, and not carried out her red-soaked dreams of murdering the man in question. She has no guilt or stain on her soul for having fantasised so deeply about it that sometimes she's truly disappointed when he turns up within a few days, largely to spend time with his son. "I t'ink da worst sin evah I could commit…is not one dat would make da papers. In circumstances I have hard time imagining, would be…how sleeper might say it… fall t' da Dark Side, as it. One of our mos' sacred rules an' it carries a sentence worse dan death," she enunciates that word carefully so to avoid misunderstanding, "says 'Conspire not wi' an Enemy of Ascension'. T' actively work against da wonder of what is, an' what could be… t' join our enemy in war… I mean I can't say it nevah could happen. Dat's wha' make dem so insidious. In a more….mortal kind of way…somehow my mana gettin' away from me…hurtin' people or environment or somet'ing like dat… I'd turn myself in. Not able to live wi' doin' somet'ing dat could hurt innocent people." Immaculate brows furrow above her eyes, the corners of her mouth down turned, Beth is clearly disturbed by even just the idea. She pushes it away with something she tells herself is equally unappealing but not nearly as devastating. "Dat is if sweepin' ya papers off ya desk an' havin' you right here an' now is off da table."

[theredofoctober]

Since you're all being so patient, a preview from the next chapter of Manna!

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“Staying indoors wouldn't keep the Silicone Lover from making you his paramour,” says Will, shortly, one arm flung in a disdainful mode across the back of his chair. “His targets always let him into their homes willingly, and there are never any defensive wounds, suggesting he makes himself known to his victims some time before he abducts them. Likely as a repairman, or similar worker.”

You glance at him from under your eyelashes.

“I know that. I’ve read Tattle Crime, too.”

“Tell us what you know of this case, then,” says Hannibal, deftly severing the tension as Will's gaze blackens. “Perhaps the case will benefit from a fresh perspective, especially from an individual so closely fitting the profile of the unfortunate victims.”

“Go ahead,” says Jack. “As long as you feel up to it, that is.”

His voice softens as he speaks to you, and you think of his wife, slowly folding into the ravening void of cancer. This is a man who understands illness, and has a sensitivity for it; it comforts you, to have him here, obstructed though a view he has of his friends.

Offering him a shy smile, you say, “I’ll be alright. It’s just that I don’t want to put anyone off their food.”

There is laughter around the table; even Will smirks, though the expression falls as he catches you looking. You wonder again at his distaste for you, and think, with a terrible, calm, adult rationality, that he is jealous, that you have come between him and his mentor when he craves to be entirely alone.

“Well?” says Will, with all the rudeness of a spoiled prince. “What is the Lover’s modus operandi?”