#the contrast in voice between these two cracks me up honestly

[willowsnook]

I can't come with you

Can I request chicken, veggies and wrap 😝

Lewis hamilton x coworker!reader

I still love you 

—----------------------------------------------

After five years as Lewis Hamilton's PR manager, the rumors of something more between you two never stopped. Honestly, you understood why—your relationship was far closer than that of most drivers and their managers. Despite being 10 years his junior, you were one of his closest confidants. The two of you just got each other.

Managing Lewis’ PR was easy; he rarely caused controversy, which gave people more reason to fixate on your relationship. You’d even seen TikTok edits and conspiracy theories speculating on "the way Lewis Hamilton looks at Y/N." Sure, Lewis was attractive, and you sometimes thought you’d make a good couple, but Mercedes’ strict no-fraternizing policy meant that line wasn’t one you could cross. Instead, you chalked up his red-carpet invites and social media posts of the two of you as purely professional—there in case anything went wrong.

As his friend, you were well aware of his frustrations with Mercedes. He felt unheard, and his growing outspokenness only made your job busier. But nothing could have prepared you for what came next.

You stood shivering outside Lewis’ London flat after knocking on the door. The January air still stung your face from the walk over. When he opened the door, his warm smile was a welcome contrast to the cold.

“Hi,” he greeted.

“Hi yourself,” you replied, pulling him into a tight hug. “Did you have a good holiday season?”

“Of course. Spent time with the family,” he said, leading you inside. “Wine?”

“Sure,” you said, watching him carefully. Something felt off. The usual confident Lewis seemed replaced with someone more anxious. As you chatted, you noticed his avoidance of eye contact and how he fidgeted with his rings.

“Okay, what’s up?” you finally asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked weakly, but you raised an eyebrow.

“You’re being weird.”

Lewis sighed, motioning for you to join him in the living room. “So… you know how things escalated with Mercedes last year,” he began, and you nodded. “Well, I think it’s time to say goodbye after this season. I’ve spent the last week in Italy with Ferrari. I’m going to sign with them for 2025.”

You froze. You knew he was unhappy, but the thought of him leaving Mercedes had never crossed your mind.

“Who knows?” you whispered.

“Just you,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours.

“When are you announcing it?”

“I’m not sure. Obviously, we’ll work on it together, but I didn’t bring you here as my manager. I’m telling you as my friend.”

You set your wine glass down, staring straight ahead. Ferrari. Italy. Lewis leaving you.

“Well, if this is what you want, then I’m happy for you,” you said softly, meeting his gaze.

“Are you?” he pressed.

“No,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

“I want you to come with me,” he said, and your head snapped up in shock.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m Lewis Hamilton. If I tell Ferrari I’m only coming if Y/N joins, you’ll have a job there,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Lewis, I don’t want to leave Mercedes,” you said firmly, watching surprise flash across his face.

“But I’m leaving,” he countered.

“And I’m happy for you,” you said, exasperation creeping into your voice. “But I have my own career here, and if you were really my friend, you wouldn’t ask me to start over somewhere else for your sake.”

“I’ll double your salary,” he offered, but you stood, grabbing your coat.

“You just don’t get it,” you said, frustrated. “Call me when you’re ready to talk logistics for the announcement.”

His voice called after you, but you were already halfway out the door.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

A couple of months later, the cracks in your friendship were impossible to ignore. After Lewis’ decision became public, the team shifted focus to George and Kimi, leaving you to manage the younger drivers. Meanwhile, Lewis seemed to grow resentful, constantly complaining about Mercedes to you despite your efforts to remain neutral.

It all came to a head during the summer. After laughing with George over a TikTok challenge, Lewis confronted you as you walked back to the garage.

“Not even gone yet and you’re already replacing me,” he said bitterly, catching you as you walked back to the garage. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked, clearly confused. 

“I didn’t realize that George was so funny,” he commented and you stopped walking to look at him. 

“Are you jealous right now?” You asked, somewhat amused, somewhat annoyed. “Should I just be a brick wall around him?”

“That’s what you’re doing around me,” he bit back and you crossed your arms. 

“Sorry I’m not going to jump in and complain with you when this job treats me pretty good,” you retorted. 

“Oh yeah I forgot, you’re choosing them over me,” he said and you took an angry step towards him. 

“This friendship is not going to last if you keep blaming me for the consequences of your own choice,” you argued. 

“Then maybe it shouldn’t,” he said and you froze. Blinking away the tears you walked away, mind reeling at how someone could throw five years of friendship away over this. 

You and Lewis pretty much avoided each other after that which the media picked up on easily. Most of the speculation was spot on, him leaving Mercedes broke you up. Fans noticed his change in demeanor at events and your absence. 

—------------------------------------

Seeing Lewis for the first time in red was jarring. You were at pre-season testing and couldn’t take your eyes off your old friend. It had been months since you last spoke, and your heart ached seeing him again. During the winter break, you started questioning whether you and Lewis had been more than friends because the separation hurt you badly. You missed him. 

Don’t get you wrong, you loved Kimi. He was a breath of fresh air, eager to be great, and honestly adorable. But your relationship with him was so different. He was like a little brother to you while Lewis was, well, Lewis. 

“Going to talk to him?” George asked, coming out of nowhere to stand beside you as you watched Lewis talking with Charles. 

“Probably not,” you replied looking up at him. He gave you a knowing look. 

“I feel like I am a child of divorce,” he complained and you laughed lightly. 

“Sorry you got stuck with me then,” you joked and he smirked. 

“He misses you,” George said gently and you shook your head. 

“He made his choice,” you countered and George grabbed your shoulders, turning you to face him. 

“He chose to leave Mercedes, he didn’t choose to leave you,” he said. 

“It feels like he did though,” you said softly and George wrapped an arm around you. 

“He brings you up casually every single time we talk y/n. Always wondering how you are and what you’re doing.” 

You didn’t say anything to that, just mulled over it. As if his ears were burning, Lewis looked over to where you were standing, meeting your eyes. Your heart clenched looking at him and you turned around to walk away. 

The next time you saw him he was talking with Kimi on the track as you were searching for your young driver. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I need Kimi for media,” you said professionally and Kimi nodded, starting to say goodbye to Lewis. 

“Please get dinner with me tonight,” Lewis said to you, interrupting the poor boy. 

“No,” you replied and he crossed his arms staring at you. 

“I made a reservation at the place you like here,” he said and you crossed your arms back. 

“Then cancel it,” you said. 

“Y/n.”

“Lewis.”

Kimi looked between the two of you, laughing nervously before you pulled him away. 

“So what was that about?” He asked as you walked towards where the media was set up. 

“Nothing,” you replied, focusing on the sight in front of you. 

“Didn’t seem like nothing,” he hummed. 

“Kimi,” you warned. 

“Could cut the sexual tension with a knife,” he giggled before leaping away from your grasp. 

Later that day, you were back in your hotel room, changing into leggings and an oversized Mercedes hoodie. Your stomach growled and you pulled up your maps looking for somewhere to eat. You saw the name of the place Lewis mentioned and you hesitated, it was your favorite. It was a hole-in-the-wall Indian place with only a couple of tables, so you had to make a reservation, which you and Lewis had discovered a few years ago. Maybe he would go elsewhere since you hadn’t agreed to join him. 

Making it down to the lobby you stopped as you saw him waiting by the door as if he was waiting for you. He had a small smirk on his face as you approached and you rolled your eyes. 

“Let’s go sweetheart,” he said opening the door for you. 

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped back. Paparazzi swarmed the front of the hotel as you stepped out and you forgot what being in public with Lewis was like. His hand found your lower back, and he protectively stuck an arm out in front of you while leading you to the car the valet had brought up. You ducked in and waited for him to join, inhaling the scent that you had missed so much. 

He drove to the restaurant silently and you passed the time looking out the window until you arrived. You walked in front of Lewis, greeting the owners who knew the two of you by now and they showed you to your table. 

“I have something for you,” Lewis said as you sat down and you looked at him curiously. He pulled out a box, and your breath caught, knowing what it was. He opened it to pull out a gold braided ring. Each year for Christmas, he got you something from the latest Cartier line and you felt yourself getting a little misty-eyed. 

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured as he slipped it on to one of your fingers. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to,” he said softly. “Even with things how they are, I had to.” 

“What happened to us Lewis?” You asked miserably. “I don’t like this.”

“I don’t either,” he admitted. “I miss you.”

“Truce?” You offered and he gave you a slow smile. 

“Truce,” he agreed. The rest of dinner was just like old times and you felt yourself start to heal from the pain him leaving had caused. 

—-----------------------------------------------

Months later, you found yourself at Monza, the roar of engines and the sea of Ferrari red creating a buzz of excitement that was impossible to ignore. You’d been dreading this race—Ferrari’s home turf and the first time you’d be back in the thick of Lewis’ world since your truce. Your truce hadn’t changed much between the two of you besides the fact that you’d talked a little more at races, catching up but there was still a giant hole inside of both of you. 

You were standing by the Mercedes garage, reviewing media notes with Kimi, when you saw him. Lewis leaned casually against the Ferrari pit wall, his arms crossed, sunglasses on, exuding his usual confidence. Yet, even from a distance, you felt the weight of his gaze.

“Go say hi,” Kimi nudged, breaking your train of thought.

“I’m working,” you deflected, pretending to focus on your clipboard.

“You’ve been working all weekend,” Kimi said with a smirk. “Go.”

Before you could protest further, Lewis started walking toward you. Your heart raced as he closed the gap, his presence as magnetic as ever.

“Y/N,” he greeted, his voice soft but carrying over the noise around you.

“Lewis,” you replied, offering a small smile. “Good luck out there today.”

“Thanks,” he said, glancing around before focusing back on you. “Can we talk for a second?”

You hesitated, but his expression was earnest, so you nodded. He led you a few steps away, just out of earshot of the bustling garage.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” he began, pulling off his sunglasses to meet your eyes. “I know we’ve been better, but I’ve realized there’s still something I need to say.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity as he shifted nervously, uncharacteristic for him.

“I’m sorry for asking you to leave and come with me. That was wrong of me, and you were right. I saw you as an extension of myself and not a whole person. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on that, and I realized it was because I see you as a part of me. I’m not complete without you.” 

He continued. 

“My life is better with you in it and I thought that I would get over what we had once I had all the new shiny things at Ferrari but I still love you and I don’t think I’m ever going to stop loving you. 

“Lewis…” you started, your voice faltering.

He reached out, his hand brushing against yours. “You don’t have to say anything now. I just needed you to know. I’ll wait—however long it takes.”

“You don’t have to wait that long,” you admitted and his eyes lit up. “It feels like I’ve been missing my other half.” 

A slow, warm smile spread across Lewis’ face as he stepped closer to you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with relief.

You leaned into his touch, your heart racing as you looked into his eyes. “I’ve missed you so much, Lewis.”

“I’ve missed you too, more than I can even explain,” he whispered before closing the gap, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was tentative at first, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid, but it quickly deepened, becoming something that felt like coming home.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were smiling, the tension that had lingered for months melting away.

“So…” he started, his grin turning mischievous, “does this mean you’re rooting for me today?”

You let out a laugh, playfully rolling your eyes. “Absolutely not. I’m still team Mercedes, always.”

He clutched his chest dramatically, pretending to be wounded. “You’re breaking my heart, love.”

“You’ll survive,” you teased, tugging lightly at the collar of his Ferrari shirt. “Besides, it’ll make it that much sweeter when we beat you.”

He laughed, leaning in to steal another quick kiss. “We’ll see about that. But at least I know I’ve already won where it matters most.”

Your smile widened as you laced your fingers through his. “Good luck out there, Ferrari boy. You’re going to need it.”

And with that, you both headed back toward the paddock, the weight of the past replaced with hope for what was to come.

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking of all the ways you can be intimate with the Spot | 18+, MINORS DNI

Content tags: use of strap ons,

Ever since the accident happened and his body changed form, Spot never thought he’d be able to be intimate with someone.

However everything changed when he met you who was rather experimental in the bedroom and never afraid to try something new.

So it was to no surprise when you came up to him one day and told him about this idea that you had.

It all started when the two of you were getting intimate. He had you bent over, fingers thrusting into your aching hole and murmuring about how he wishes he could feel like he used to before.

Ever since then you’ve been thinking about ways to make it happen and one day you came across an article stating that strap ons were a great addition to the bedroom for all parties involved, thus giving you the idea that you should try giving him a blow job while he’s wearing a strap.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, head tilted in anticipation with a strap hanging between his legs

“You sure this will work ?” Spot asks and looks down to where you’re sitting on the floor, voice careful and unsure as he fidgets with his long lanky fingers.

You shrug in response “honestly? I don’t know but it’s worth a shot“

Despite taking a new form you can still tell by his body language that he’s nervous.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to Jonathan” you say as you squeeze his thigh in reassurance.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that I haven’t done this in a while and it’s much different from what I’m used to, you know? “ Spot says whilst shuffling around on the covers.

You did know.

The color of the strap was a stark contrast to the color of his skin, the size wasn’t something he was used to having and on top of that he was guaranteed not to feel a thing.

You nod your head in understanding and smile up at him. “How about this; if you really want to do this we’ll give it a go and if it turns out that it’s not your thing we forget about it. You and me can order pizza watch some movie and cuddle on the couch instead yeah?”

Spot takes a moment to consider it before he nods in agreement and you see the tension leaving his body as he relaxes on the bed.

Although his body can no longer feel the way it once did, he appreciates the way you trail kisses down his chest, the way your hands gently rub circles into his thighs and the way your eyes stay glued to his face, making sure he’s alright with everything that you’re doing.

The sheer attentiveness of it all has him lolling hishead back, chest heaving as his big hand gently drags along the expanse of your back.

“Still alright?” you ask as you pause your ministrations, voice careful and gaze gauging his every reaction.

Spot nods in response ”It’s really nice “ he says, voice shaky and breaths labored as his limbs twitch from your touch “keep going please”

As you kiss and caress him, you stumble upon one of the many spots decorating his body.

“Has anyone tried touching them?” you ask, eyeing what seemed to be a bottomless pit with curiosity.

It takes him a moment to respond, brain still affected by your touch “Only by accident “ he says, voice slightly cracking as he turns to the spot that you’re eyeing.

“May I?”

“You want to touch it?” He says, voice full of wonder as he adjusts himself on top of the covers.

You nod in response, still eyeing the spot.

“Alright, go ahead “

Spot doesn’t have to tell you twice as your hands sprawl over the expanse of his thighs, curios fingers skating over spotted skin as your eyes eaglery drink in the sight of the many dots on his body.

Some are big, some are small, some edges are very frail and some are very sharp. You trace each and every one of them with your finger as you gauge his reaction. “How does that feel?”

“Ticklish” he chuckles and you can’t help but smile at his reaction.

“What if I did this?” You ask as you slowly inch your hand closer to his inner thigh, fingers experimentally tracing around the edge of a spot before sliding two fingers inside.

“Oh-oh- woah” Spot gasps in surprise and falls back onto the bed “sorry sorry so sorry”

“That's alright, maybe it’s better if you’re laying down instead” you say with a chuckle, never once stopping your caresses “does this feel okay?”

He tries to form words, tongue stumbling over syllables as he squirms.“feels - feels good uh yeah good fuck -how are you doing that” he squeaks out as he gently ruts his hips against your hand.

It’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before. You can hear the whirling sounds coming from the portal, and you can feel the way the cold air caresses your bare skin but you can’t see a single thing. So you do your best to navigate your fingers in what seemed to be an endless pit, gently moving them in a back and forth motion as you keep your eyes trained on him.

“This?” You ask as you curl your fingers experimentally.

“Fuck” he cries out before he bites down on his arm, thigh twitching under you touch.

“Still alright?” You say with a smile on your face.

“Yeah, yeah still good” he pants, nodding his head, limb still twitching under your hand.

You give a few more experimental thrusts to his hole, watching the way he gets worked up only to suddenly pull away from the spot.

Spot whimpers at the loss of contact but you’re quick to console him with a squeeze to his thigh.

“I’d like to try something. Tell me if you want me to stop” you say to him as you inch closer to the strap hanging between his legs. “And keep your eyes on me okay?”

“Yeah alright -“

You wrap your lips around the strap as you sink down on it before you plunge your fingers back inside the hole on his inner thigh, doing your best to match the pace of your mouth with the movements of your fingers.

Spot gasps in surprise at the sight, back arching off the bed and heels digging into the bedroom floor for support. “Fuck oh- fuck” he cries out, voice full of wonder as he rocks his hips against your face “it’s like- it’s like you’re actually doing it”he whines out again , hands fumbling to grasp onto something and settling for clawing at the mattress.

You continue your movements, and you even tease him by pulling out your fingers only to trace the edge of the hole before plunging them back inside of the portal.

“Oh god- “ he sobs as you continue your ministrations.

“You sound so pretty you know? Love to see what more sounds you can make while I fuck your holes” you say as you pull away from the plastic, fingers still thrusting inside his hole.

“Don’t- don’t say stuff like that” Spot whines as he buries his face in his hands but still keeping a watchful eye as you drag your tongue over the plastic.

“Why? You don’t like it?” you ask with a smile on your face, already knowing the answer to your question. “Jonathan answer me “ you say in warning as you crook your fingers.

He sobs at that, fingers digging into the hole on his face as he furiously bucks his hips against your hand.

“I do” he wails, as he continues to rock his hips . “Feels so good feels so good feels as if - as if “ he pants, unable to finish his sentence as he starts clawing at the mattress again, slowly losing control of his senses

You sink down on the plastic again as you continues crook your fingers inside the hole on his body.

His head shifts from side to side so fast he looks like a moving blur, too far gone in pleasure to be able to look at you anymore as he rocks his hips against your face, the movement so sudden it causes you to gag around the plastic.

You pull away from him with a cough and blink back in surprise as you wipe your mouth.

Spot springs up so fast he almost tumbles over in the process. “Oh god- god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“Yeah don’t worry about that, just a bit surprised “ you say with a soft smile on your face, swallowing down the discomfort that was making itself known at the back of your throat.

“So- sorry” Spot says again. “Here let me-“

You just shake your head before you gently push him back down on the bed and sink down on him again. Your fingers return to the spot on his body, making sure the pace of your fingers matches with the pace of your mouth to keep the illusion going.

His hand goes back to your head, gently cradling it this time as he lightly rocks his hips against your face. “This is - this is so nice - thank you so much for doing this”

It’s clear that he’s trying to restrain himself, body shaking from restraint as he shoves fingers into the hole on his face to muffle the whines and whimpers escaping him.

As much as you appreciate the gesture you don’t want him to hold back and you make it known with a tap to his thigh.

His fingers fall from his face, body going completely still as he turns to look at you instead. He must’ve thought you wanted to stop because he goes to pull away but you’re quick to put a hand on hip, halting his movements completely.

You relax your mouth around the strap, body going slack as you guide his hips against your face.

Spot gasps at your movements, lanky fingers clumsily grabbing onto your hair as he guides your head all the way down to the base. “Fuck oh fuck please -“

What started off as a controlled pace quickly turns into a feverish mess and he wails, blunt nails dragging along your neck as he slowly loses control of his senses.

As you continue to sink down on the plastic and fingering the portal on his body , you notice the holes expanding in size, and even moving around

You’re amazed, eyes wide and mouth halting its moments as your fingers trace the many shapes of the holes of his body.

All of a sudden he stops responding, body going completely still and you turn your gaze towards him.

“Jonathan? Is everything alright?” You say, worry dripping from your voice as you pull away from the strap.

He’s got his fingers shoved back into the hole on his face, an attempt at silencing the whines and whimpers escaping him that only seem to grow louder as the spots morphe and move around on his body.

“Nonono don’t stop don’t stop please please“ he urges, hand clumsily grabbing onto your hair as he shoves you back between his legs.

Oh

Now that's a reaction you’re familiar with and you quickly wrap your lips around the plastic dick as you sink down on it, fingers plunging back into his hole and continuously curling inside of it.

You see the way the spots on his body continue to shift and change, and you feel the way his fingers yank onto your hair as he frantically rocks his hips against your face.

“I think I’m-I think I’m —“ Spot mutters into the palm of his hand before he comes with a cry, back arching off the bed as the spots on his body finally stop moving.

It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before, an orgasm accommodated to his newest form and you can’t help but want to see more.

Spot flops back down onto the bed, hand thrown over his eyes as he exhales heavily

“That was- that was woah”

“Should we do that again?” You ask with a smile on your face.

[foxconfessorandthewolf]

Okay, so I’m a bit wine drunk but I don’t think I’ve ever really articulated why I love Snarry together and I’m currently trying to finish a fic after taking a three-year-hiatus from writing these two, so this is probably a good exercise!

I’m a bit on the older side of fandom, having been a fanartist and fervent reader since 2003, so my connection was really sparked during that time between OOTP and HBP when Snape and Harry were at some of their most clashing and deeply vitriolic, forced together into hateful vulnerability by Occulmency lessons. Every scene between them was electric, laced with tension as we truly did not know how things would go, or even where Snape’s true loyalties lay. He was an unknown, tied up with Harry’s own family’s mysterious past, connected to Harry in a myriad of odd ways that few other characters were, and - as a rivals-to-lovers lover - I was fascinated by him. From that first moment when they lock eyes in the Great Hall and that frisson of pain shoots through Harry’s scar, I desperately wanted to know who the hell this man was and his story. I think a lot of Snarry shippers come to the ship with a special appreciation for Severus Snape’s character himself. He’s such an incredibly drawn character, rich with complexity, complicated and pretty fucked up, with clearly-held passions, hatreds, weaknesses, and motivations. He’s emotional in a way a lot of other characters aren’t, though I think he’d loathe to hear that. And his character voice! It’s unique and pitch-perfect. You always know exactly who is speaking with his lines. Honestly, the way he evolved from a spy/traitor stock character to become so multifaceted and enigmatic is a masterpiece of characterization, and it’s an aspect of why I’m drawn to him - there’s still so much about his origins and well, what his damage was, that we don’t know. Because of this, I especially love Snarry fics that delve into character studies of him, trying to explore all the shadows left behind. I also admit I have a preference for interpreting Snape as morally grey. I like him petty, sharp-tongued, ambitious, with an incredibly liquid definition of what is right and wrong. He’s self-interested, dripping with disdain, and really doesn’t see that as a problem. What happens to him when he deeply falls in love?

I love a ship that makes me work for it. There’s no obvious line of how Snape and Harry might wind up together, so each fic is a wealth of possibilities of bringing these two together despite their roadblocks. As I mentioned, I’m big fan of animosity in a ship. Give me rivals, give me enemies, give me the sparking passions, the sharp fury, the way they stoke each others’ emotions and seek to hurt, the racing hearts, the raised hackles, the intense emotional reaction to another person. Just throw it at me. I devour that shit. I love the messy and taboo nature of their relationship, the complications raising from their age difference, temperaments, and largely similar and shared traumas. There’s an interesting element of Snape being a foil to James Potter, and how that relates to Harry and their past. Basically, this shit is really good potting soil for incredible fucking fics, packed with nutrients.

The shared natures of their traumas, like Voldemort and each being forgotten and abused as children and how they might be able to understand each other and bond from it is also something that’s fascinating to explore. I love when a writer pushes on Snape’s bruises, looking to make them hurt, cracking his sardonic brain open and rooting around in there, and I love when they compare and contrast to Harry’s. There’s a seductiveness to how Snape is so obsessed with Harry, fixated on his Boy Who Lived heroic reputation, clearly dripping with envy. What, beyond jealousy, might draw Snape to Harry and what, other than hatred, might draw Harry to Snape?

It’s all this, the passionate, electric, dangerous nature of their relationship; the way their characters contrast each other yet have surprising connections; and the question of finding solace that keeps me here, 21 years later. I’ve had wines less complex than this ship. They’re fascinating. They’re messy. They’re everything.

[crossposted from a reddit comment I just left, and wanted to share with y’all]

[s-uwu-binie]

↳ ❝ [unfiltered fondness]! ❞

➻ txt x gn!reader

➻ nothing but fluff ^^

⤷ nothing could really hide away the oh so obvious liking of these lovesick boys for you.

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶 𝘆𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗻

choi yeonjun. a name that rings familiarity in so many people’s ears. a name that brings desire amongst people. a name that you’re lucky to call yours. well, at least that’s what you think, which is a resounding contrast to the envious glares you feel on your back. it doesn’t get easier when you hear their whispers.

as the night went on, the pressing weight on your back seemed to be getting to you as the silk that delicately draped on your body now felt suffocating more than ever.

“baby?” a hand that felt too familiar settled its warmth on the small of your back, tracing patterns on the fabric wrapped on your skin. as much as the touch brought extreme comfort to you, you can’t seem to find the words to speak out the thoughts that rang like an endless mantra in your head.

receiving no response from your end, yeonjun took it in his own hands, gently tugging you along as he led you two to the balcony. and once seeing the space empty, yeonjun immediately jumped on the opportunity to talk. “talk to me, y/n.” he asked, taking a step closer to you. “please?”

hearing the distinct crack in his voice at your lack of response prompted you to look at him for what it seemed like the first time this night. and as your eyes met with his, you can almost immediately recognize the shine in them, staring at you as if you hung the stars in the night sky, and yeonjun would’ve believed that if it was up to him. you’re literally the prettiest human being he laid eyes on.

it's only such a shame that others don't share the same sentiment. he would've thrown hands, honestly speaking.

you sighed, seeing that he won’t budge from his lovestruck stare any time soon. “just... why me, jun?” you love him, you really do. how can you not when he is the embodiment of perfection. but it just doesn't make sense.

your eyes stared up into his once again, challenging him as you waited for an answer. an answer you hope would be the end of it all. however, the reply you got wasn’t all what you were expecting.

“why?” he paused, letting out a deep chuckle that nearly sent your heart soaring if it were not to your current concern. “i love you. that’s why.”

“no. no, that doesn't make sense.” you gestured to the both of you, “we don’t make any sense, jun.”

heaving a sigh, yeonjun took another step, bridging the gap. “i don’t need to have a reason why i feel the way i feel. i just do.”

almost not believing your ears, you were ready to retort if it weren’t for your boyfriend’s interruption. “i honestly don’t care about what they say or think. i’m the one dating you, not them.”

aand to emphasize his point, yeonjun takes one final step to you. one final step to touch your aching heart. “yeonjun-”

not wanting to hear anymore of your doubts, he seals the promise between the both of you. cutting you off this time with a sudden pull at your waist and a soft kiss on your lips, ultimately clearing away all previous doubts and what ifs.

“i don’t care how complicated this gets, i still want you.”

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗻

you were starting to feel sorry.

it wasn’t like this in the beginning. it was all about taking spontaneous walks in the nearby park, touring in museums, eating out in multiple food stalls around the city, splurging in convenience stores, and so many more that you can’t even count. 

and now, it’s all about sleeping in an empty bed, waking up earlier than the other then returning to the shared apartment with the other already fast asleep, and cancelled dates.

rainchecks and cancellation of milestones were a normal occurrence now. but all you wanted to do was to cuddle into the safety of your blankets and sleep the whole day away with soobin. but of course, the timing was never right as you watched soobin pick up his coat, getting ready for another day at work. perhaps, you two needed to take a break somehow?

“someone’s got a staring problem this morning, huh?” soobin teased, looking over his shoulder. chuckling, you throw a pillow, hitting him straight on the face. “no i don’t.”

soobin let out a scoff as he waddled over to your form on the sofa. “you look troubled lately, bubs,” he said while reaching for your hand before he started playing with your fingers, fiddling with them as he stared up at you from his kneeled position. 

“just thinking about something…”

“ahh, that’s never good.”

you jokingly slapped his arm, shushing him from teasing you even more. “as i was saying,” giving him a pointed look. “maybe we need to…”

you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. it simply felt wrong in your mind, it nearly made you sick to your stomach.

wordlessly, soobin gazed upon you as you struggled to find the right words to say, but soobin already knew what you wanted to convey. he just didn’t want it to be true. “let’s not, please.”

as you breathed in, you shook your head and gripped his hand. If there had been an easier way to talk it out, you would’ve already done it. but the lump in your throat and the tears in the corners of your eyes made it so difficult to breathe. “i’m afraid that-”

“that i’d leave just because we’re busy? that i’d drift away from you because of my tight schedules?” soobin rambled on as he got closer to you, but not completely standing up from his seated position. “you know i wouldn’t do that to you, y/n.”

with his hand gripped firmly in yours, the other one reaches out to caress your cheek. and out of habit, you leaned in to his warm touch, “i know, but what if something happens. what if we grow further apart, bin.”

“oh, bubs.” he grinned at you from ear to ear, as if you weren’t the messiest you’ve ever been with your teary eyes and runny nose. “you can trust that i’ll stay forever.”

and despite the heart-wrenching meaning behind his words, you can’t possibly ignore the flutter it brought to your heart. “when did you get so cheesy?” you land a light-hearted jab on his shoulder, which earned you his laughs and cheeky smile, occupying the quiet apartment with his honey-like melodies. 

as his laughter and your hiccups died down, the question in your mind still lingered in the air like smoke. “forever?”

“yep.” soobin replied with a playful hum, now deciding to lean even closer to you, so close that you can feel his heartbeat from the way your palm rests on his chest. he looked down at your hand on his chest, beaming at the sight before locking eyes with you, gaze softening. “here…”

he gave you one more look, taking a good amount of time to admire every bit of you. “...with you.”

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶 𝗯𝗲𝗼𝗺𝗴𝘆𝘂

words can’t describe the tiredness that seeped through your bones as of this moment, and it was taking a drastic toll on your body. as much as you wanted to stop everything you’re doing, you can’t. you needed to get this done for tomorrow morning, well more like later. 

sneaking a glance at the wall clock adjacent to where you were sitting only further confirmed your suspicion. 

3:53 am

well, so much for getting it done in the morning. you sighed, completely exhausted. and for a few more seconds the only sounds that filled the living room was the ticking of the clock, reminding you that you should be typing away at your laptop, and not leaning back on the cushions behind you as if you didn’t have a tight deadline in four hours. 

“what do you think you’re doing?” your ever loving boyfriend stood in front of you, hands firmly placed on his hips, looking eerily similar to how your mom used to scold you back home. 

you flinched at the sudden interruption of silence. “gyu, i thought you were asleep.” you put the laptop aside on the space beside, taking a good look at beomgyu’s unamused expression. 

“i didn’t feel you beside me when i was sleeping.” he pouted, “you left me all alone, baby.” 

right, ever the most dramatic too as he lunged himself at you, almost knocking your laptop off the couch. all you could do was reach over and hope that your laptop wasn’t snapped in half. “you’re such a mess, gyu.”

the only reply you got from the man was an utter look of disbelief and a whine you’re so familiar with. “so are you.”

“touché.”

“so, what’s going on with you?” beomgyu turned to you, making himself comfortable as he buries his face in your neck. “is something bothering you? is that why you can’t sleep?”

“nope, i’m just busy.” you were a lot of things, yes. but you weren’t exactly a good liar, and beomgyu knew that. 

“tsk, look at you lying to me.” his voice sent vibrations from your neck down to your spine as he spoke softly, tone contrasting from the clear teasing from his words. “since when were you this shameless, babe?”

a sigh left your lips, deciding to come clean to him about it. “fine. i’m exhausted.” it was all becoming way too much. you could only take too much before you start to buckle under the immense work and pressure you’re harbouring on your shoulders. “i want to sleep, but i know i can’t. i still have a lot of work to do.”

“why didn’t you tell me this sooner.” beomgyu peeked from your neck, “and don’t you say it’s because you didn’t want to bother me.”

“took the words right out my mouth there.” you chuckled, now feeling more worn-out than ever. it also didn’t help that beomgyu started to comb your hair, slowly playing with your locks and massaging your scalp. 

beomgyu didn’t reply after that, only silently threading his fingers through your hair once he took note of your change of breathing. once he made sure you were knocked out, he carefully slipped away from your arms, gently laying you down on the couch. 

“you’re so mean, you know that?” he glanced at your sleeping form. his eyes trailed from your furrowed brows, which he smoothed out with his thumb. beomgyu also noticed the clear signs of insomnia on your face, shaking his head in disappointment as he saw the dark circles under your eyes. 

“don’t leave me out of your struggles, share it with me.” beomgyu wasted no time in opening your laptop, and started typing away with you snoring peacefully in the background. 

imagine your surprise when you woke up in the afternoon with your document already sent with beomgyu clinging to your waist, head buried in your chest. 

𝗸𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻

the door slammed shut, footsteps soon following it. it wasn’t long after when the sound of plastic hitting the table.

“you wreck me, love.” taehyun blurted out, lowering himself down to sit on the opposite of you from the coffee table. he says it like you had an idea of what he was referring to, he even got his arms crossed, staring you down. 

wow, okay. that came out of nowhere.

“i think i should be the one asking that question.” he sighed, nodding at your scribbled notes. “you eaten yet?”

as opposed to replying, you continued to take notes, keeping your eyes on the page while trying to ignore his stare. and for a couple of seconds, the only noise that filled the room was your pen scratching against the paper and your steady breathing.

“yeah, that’s what i thought.” taehyun brought out another plastic bag, taking out its contents. you soon later recognize the familiar packaging from your favourite fast-food place. 

“eat up, sugar.” taehyun slid the take-out container to you. “i’m not that hungry, tyun.” you said without looking up from what you were doing. 

truth was, you haven’t eaten yet. you didn’t have the time to really prepare or order yourself anything the whole day. but as stubborn as you are, it’s getting rather difficult to suppress the urge to grab the food that taehyun’s tempting you with. but nope, you figured you should be finished with your work first, a habit that taehyun absolutely hated with his entire being.

“you love me right?” he asked, opening up another container for himself, taking a big bite, chopsticks already grabbing another piece, offering it to you. 

“of course i do.”

he set his chopsticks down, propping his arms up on the table. “do you love me?” he repeated. 

“yes, tyun. i love you.” you exclaimed, finally setting your pen down, giving him your undivided attention for the time being. 

taehyun hummed in response, satisfied with your answer. “is that so?”

you nodded enthusiastically.

“if you really love me then prove it.” he nudged the styrofoam filled to the brim with your favorite appetizer. you gotta admit, he honestly came prepared for this, he’s got all your go-to appetizers up to your ideal dessert. just as expected, he never misses a single detail. “just one bite at least.”

you groaned, giving in to your hunger, hands reaching out to taehyun’s outstretched one, “fine.”

“now, give me that.” he demanded, wasting no time in snatching your pen and notebook as taehyun began jotting down your notes for you, letting your body rest for a while as he contently fed you with his other hand, knowing that you can’t really digest the thought of leaving him hanging. 

“i love you more, by the way.” his sharp eyes glanced at you for a moment, a smile tugged on his lips while he said this.

“i love you mo-” as you struggle to speak, he shoves another mouthful of food into your mouth to shut you up. “talk me to me when you’re full. i can’t bear seeing you like this.”

𝗵𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗮𝗶

“here,” kai handed you the tissue box, watching you sniffle and blow your nose in amusement. “it’s not that deep, sunshine.”

you shot him a look of disbelief, brows furrowed and lips curled into a scowl. “how could you say that, hyuka?” you point to the disney movie playing, “that right there should be hitting you in the feels.”

all you got was a series of his hyena laughter, even throwing his head back, coughing by the end of it. 

you scoffed, “serves you right.” your words contradicting your actions as you urge him to drink from his bottle of water, patting his back while you’re at it. 

once his coughing fit died down, transitioning to small wheezes here and there, he turned to you again, pushing the box of tissues towards you, even taking it upon himself to wipe away your tears. 

“you know…” kai leaned on your shoulder, staring at you through his thick lashes. “i think i really like it when you cry.”

you pulled away from him, which led to his head falling off your shoulder, landing on your stomach. “excuse me?” you asked, eyes scanning him top to bottom to check if something’s up or if this is another form of his nonstop teasing.

kai hurriedly put his hands up, waving them around in a panic. you narrowed your eyes on him. “wait!” 

“before you chastise me.” he paused, “don’t get me wrong. i meant it as a way that i admire that you stay true to your emotions.”

you stayed silent, prompting kai to continue. “i just think it’s nice, you know?” he went on to say, taking in the oozing curiosity in your orbs. “i already love you so much, and i still find so many reasons why i love you already,” he stopped to meet your eyes, sparkling with adoration, he then hid his face in your shirt, voice muffled as he said bashfully, “...if that makes sense.”

your vision blurred once more as you took in the meaning of his words. you didn’t know how you got so lucky to score a guy like kai, to have the opportunity to love such a kind soul as his. he only proves to you everyday how much you mean to him in the best of ways, and somehow, this fact only brings a new set of tears to your already swollen eyes. 

“ahh, i’m crying again.” your hands rubbed your puffy eyes, though gently this time when you started to feel the sting around the area. “ayy, stop rubbing it. it’ll hurt more.” kai’s warm hands wrapped around yours, lightly pulling them away from your constant smearing. 

his left hand intertwined with yours, an action that doesn’t miss to make your heart skip a beat. he does this while the other snatched a tissue to pat on your tear-stained cheeks, “my crybaby.” he chuckled even more when you started bothering him to watch the movie after hearing you murmur something under your breath. but of course, it wouldn’t be hueningkai without the constant bickering. 

kai titled his head at you, eyes never leaving yours. “i think you got it wrong, bub.” he beamed at you, like sunshine, “i’m the lucky one here.”

all rights reserved © s-uwu-binie

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

I'm not even a Christmas person but, I thought this would be a fun idea. I also like how S.Coups is always a husband in my works lol. The bias is evident. This was also far longer than I initially meant for it to be. The S.Coups brainrot is apparent.

Heads up: Choi Seungcheol x Fem! Reader, crack honestly, Reader dresses up in a skimpy Mrs. Claus outfit and S.Coups is weirdly into it, they're disgustingly inlove with each other, (Mostly) Soft Dom! Seungcheol, Sub! Reader, Seungcheol being a tease, dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), thigh spanking (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie, mild praise kink and mild degradation (f. receiving).

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Can I open my eyes now?" Seungcheol asks from your shared bedroom. You can hear the smile in his voice without even seeing his face.

You really should stop listening to Jeonghan.

He was the one who suggested you buy the skimpy Mrs Claus outfit while the two of you were out together earlier. Seungcheol would love it and appreciate the humour in it, he said. And for some reason you had chosen to listen to him like the clown that you are.

"Not yet. I'll be there in a minute, Cheol," you respond, trying to find the courage to face him. You know logically that Seungcheol would never actively make you feel terrible for something you're wearing, especially an outfit that was meant to be moreso comical. However, you can't help but, feel a little ridiculous now actually wearing the get up.

Oh well, it's now or never and you promised your husband a surprise.

"You can open your eyes now," you say to him quietly and, Seungcheol is greeted with quite the eyeful when he does.

The bright red top you're wearing barely contains your tits. They're practically spilling out of the strappy top. The matching skirt isn't much better. It just passes your ass and he's sure he'd be able to see your panties clear as day if you turned around right now. The black thigh high socks you're wearing cling very attractively to your legs too. Creating little, wonderful indents in your upper thighs where they come to rest.

"Ta da," you say half-heartedly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt and studiously avoiding Seungcheol's gaze.

Seungcheol, for his part, is realising some things about himself seeing you in this outfit. He can feel his cock hardening just from taking you in. He was expecting for the two of you to laugh about this, maybe make out because he'd never miss the opportunity to make out with his ridiculously hot wife but, this was far sexier than he was prepared for.

"You look great," he says, voice already gravelly and his eyes slightly lidded.

"Don't patronise me, Seungcheol," you respond a little bit more defensive than you meant to. Eyes shooting up to finally meet his, an apology on your tongue.

However, it dies on your tongue just as quickly when you take your husband in as well. You're a little startled to see the blatantly want in his gaze. His eyes travelling across your body once more before they meet your own.

"You know I would never do that. I mean it. You look great. So fucking sexy," and this time you realise he does mean every word he's saying. Even if he was lying verbally, his facial expressions and body language always gave Seungcheol away and, right now he's practically yelling how much he wants you.

"You know, when I first thought about dressing up like this, I didn't think it would lead to discovering a new kink you have," you say a little sheepishly.

He responds with a low chuckle, a very stark contrast from his usual, endearing giggle. The sound goes straight to the junction between your thighs, a familiar, dull throb settling in.

"I'm just as surprised as you are. But, I'm not complaining. Come here, baby," he says, a commanding edge to his voice. You and him both know you'd never dream to disobey him when he sounds like that so, you steadily make your way over to him until you're standing a few centimetres from touching him.

Seungcheol taps his thigh in invitation and you need no more prompting as you move to settle yourself across his delectable lap. You can't help the little sound you make, part surprise and part desire, when you feel him pressing against you through his sweats and your panties.

"Oh wow, you're really into this," you say breathlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your fingers play with his dark hair.

His hands come up to rest on your upper thighs, eyes staring intently at your mouth with a small uptick of his own lips. "I'm generally really into anything that has to do with you, yeah," he says, leaning closer to you.

"That was really cheesy, Seungcheol. Even for you," is all you say before you press your lips to his. He groans against your mouth, hands gripping your thighs harder as the kiss begins to increase in desperation.

You can't help the way your hips move against his now fully erect cock. Your own grip in his hair becoming harsher as well while the two of you move with each other. Taking any friction you can get.

Seungcheol was the first one to pull away due to the lack of oxygen. He began to kiss along your jaw and neck, moving to now hold onto your hips and dragging you harder and faster against the length of him.

"Cheol," you gasp out, his brushes against your clit and, mouth along your neck making your panties stick to you uncomfortably now.

"You're so fucking sexy," he mutters against your skin, one of his hands coming up to cup a generous handful of your breast. He massaged you through the flimsy material of your top, smirking against you everytime he grazed your hardened nipple which caused you to shudder.

"Cheol, please," you whine, pressing against his hand and cock desperately. Feeling as though you'll lose your mind if he doesn't do something. Anything, at this point.

You grab onto his shoulders reflexively when he moves to flip the two of you over, eyes widening in surprise. Once on your back, your husband shoots you a grin from above before making sure you're comfortable against your pillows. Your heart squeezes a little in unbridled affection at him. Even through all the lust and neediness, he took the time to make sure he wasn't too sudden or rough with you. Sometimes when you think you're unable to love him anymore, your husband always makes sure to prove you wrong.

Both in the grand gestures and the more subtle ones.

Cupping his face, you pull him into another ferocious kiss. Firmly wrapping your legs around his hips and taking great delight in the moan he let's out against your mouth when he presses against your clothed centre once again.

"I take it I've been very good this year," he says as you eagerly kiss along his jaw and impatiently tug at his shirt.

Any sparky retort you had in mind completely vanishes when he pulls back to throw his shirt somewhere on your bedroom floor. Wide expanses of firm muscle free for you to ogle at and touch as you please. God, you really were the luckiest woman alive.

"Yeah, very good," you say absentmindedly, dragging your fingernails across his chest. Delighting in the way his body tensed and jumped whenever you ran them along his abs.

"I don't think I deserve to be teased if I've been good," he says lowly in your ear and, this time it's his turn to revel in the way your body reacts to him. Your hands faltering along his skin and the shiver that ran down your spine.

"Well, what do you want as a reward?"

"That's a pretty loaded question. There's so many options to choose from," he says, lazily dragging his eyes over your body. They eventually stop on your thighs. He licks his plump lips before saying, "I think I've settled on what I want."

Seungcheol gave you one more kiss against your bruised lips before moving downwards to settle himself between your thighs. Watching your face as he lightly kissed along your inner thighs, hands caressing your outer thighs and enjoying feeling the contrast between your soft skin and the cotton of your socks. The scent of your arousal was fast going to his head and making him feel hazy but, he wanted to work you up properly.

Make you beg for his mouth against you. Very little turned him on like the sounds of you begging for him.

So, he held onto every ounce of his self-restraint as he kept kissing your skin and watching you. Biting back a smirk at the antsy look in your eyes and one of your hands coming to rest against his head.

"Cheol, please," you whine out, pressing your hips up. Trying to move yourself closer to his mouth. However, he held you down firmly. His own eyes molten with desire.

"Please what? Say it."

"I- I want your mouth, please. Or even your fingers. I'll take anything,"

Seungcheol feels himself throb painfully at that. Half-tempted to just sink his cock into you right then and there and, fuck you until you were reduced to tears. However, he had a reward to claim. That could wait.

"I am using my mouth, baby," he says, pressing another kiss higher up on your inner thigh to prove his point. The pout on your lips and the slight tug on his hair makes him laugh a little against you. He can't help it, you're just so cute.

"Not there. You know where, Cheol,"

"I really don't. You have to use your words otherwise I can't help you,"

"My pussy, Cheol. Please, I want your mouth on my pussy please," you finally cry out, pulling at his hair harder this time and feeling frustrated tears build in your eyes.

That's all he needed to hear.

He immediately pressed his mouth against your pastel pink panties, shoving your skirt up your waist and out of his way. Closing his eyes and moaning at the taste of you, even with the barrier stopping him from tasting you directly. You were still heavenly. He couldn't help himself from grinding against your bed in search of some sort of relief for his throbbing cock.

"Ch-Cheol," you choke out, trying to move yourself against his mouth once more despite his steady hold on you. He doesn't let you, however. Seungcheol is taking his time licking at your through your panties, making sure to press a little harder on your clit.

Watching you gradually fall apart under his teasing only fuels the want coursing through his veins. You still get so needy and sensitive after all these years.

Deciding to show you some kindness, he does eventually tug your panties off of you. Leaving you wet and bare for him. And fuck, are you a sight to behold. He clenches his jaw as he takes in how soaked and plump with arousal you are, his cock leaking a good amount of pre-cum in his boxers now. Glancing at your face briefly, he feels himself throb violently at your expression. He hasn't even made you cum yet and you look so fucked out already. Your hair a mess against the pillows, eyes glazed over and teary, mouth open and bruised from the earlier kisses the two of you exchanged and, the straps of your top barely clinging on.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve this as a reward but, thank you," he says, his breaths hitting you directly and making you arch against him. Eyes fluttering shut as you keen from the sensations. You definitely weren't going to last long the ways things were going.

Before you can beg him to please just eat you out, he beats you to it. Looking up at you from between your thighs as he takes his first, long lick of you. Moaning from your taste and the way both of your hands fist his hair. He decides to you've been more than well-behaved enough to deserve a reward of your own so, he wastes no time in diving right in.

He laps at your clit while shifting one of his hands from its hold on you to ease two fingers inside of your eager hole. They're thick and long and fill you up in that way only Seungcheol can. He slowly moves them, taking note of the way your thighs quiver around his head every time he brushes that spot inside of you that leaves you breathless. He makes sure to curl his fingers and press against said spot hard and, is immediately graced with a sharp cry from your pretty lips, your hold on his hair bordering on painful now but, he's determined to push through.

He continues fingering you, watching your face and he can tell you're getting close. However, he pulls himself from your clit and stills his fingers inside you. Your eyes fly open to meet his and he almost groans at the frustrated, desperate look in them, "Why-Why'd you stop? I was close."

"I want you to look at me. If you close your eyes or look away, I'll stop," is all Seungcheol says before starting his ministrations back up once again. Adding more pressure to your clit as a form of apology for stopping and moving his fingers faster, making sure you're watching him all the while.

And you are. Even as a few tears make their way down your cheeks and your moans increase in pitch, you keep your eyes on him. Always such a good, obedient girl.

Good girls deserve to cum.

Seungcheol increases the intensity of his actions. Sucking a little harder on your clit and curling his fingers harder than before inside of your velvet walls, his unoccupied hand trying to keep you in place so you have no choice but, to take everything he's choosing to give you.

It's a particularly hard suck on your clit that you attribute to finally sending you over the edge. Your grip in Seungcheol's hair tightening as you arch against his mouth and his fingers. He tries his best to hold you down and work you through it.  Moaning against your clit at the fresh arousal that coats his cheeks, mouth, chin and fingers.

Your breathing is ragged as you try to come back to your body. You shuddering as Seungcheol continues to lick at you and finger you slowly, the sensations quickly shitfing in overstimulation territory.

"Che-Cheol, too much," you gasp out, gently pulling at his hair in an attempt to move him away from you. He gives your pussy one final kiss before shifting away from you and easing his fingers out of you.

He moves up your body, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "You okay?" He asks, pulling back to look over your face to make sure this wasn't too much for you.

You shoot him a lazy, amused smile and wrap your arms around his neck, "You're still such a worrier after all these years, Cheol. You know I can take more than that. I'm good."

"It never hurts to make sure," your husband pouts and you feel that familiar affection for him settle into your chest. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was determined to leave you as little more than a puddle moments ago.

Said affection prompts you to lean up and kiss him once again and, your husband is more than happy to reciprocate. Although you just came not too long ago, you can't help the way your insides ache when you feel him pressing against your thigh.

"Want you," you utter against his mouth, your hands moving to toy with the waistband of his sweatpants. "Want you too," he says, leaning back to shove his boxers and sweatpants off his body impatiently.

You don't think you'll ever really get used to seeing Seungcheol naked. His cock slaps against his stomach incredibly appealingly, smearing pre-cum in its wake. It's hard and red and making you feel very, very empty at the moment.

"As flattered as I am by my lovely wife ogling me, I'd prefer if you got undressed too. My reward and all that," he says sounding annoyingly smug. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as he helps you shuffle off your skirt and tug off your top. However, we you move to tug off the thigh high socks, his hands rest on yours to still them.

"You can keep those on,"

"How very predictable of you, Cheol," you say with a giggle, laying back down as he settles between your thighs once again.

"What can I say? I know what I like. Now, I want you to hold your thighs open for me," he says, the humour vanishing from his tone as he stares down at you and grips his cock in his hand. Sometimes it still gives you whiplash how quickly he's able to be all cute and giggly then look at you like he wants to devour you.

You quickly follow his command. Placing your hands on the backs of your thighs as he runs the head of his cock along your slit, allowing it to get coated in your arousal. You moan every time he brushes against your clit, feeling your hold on your thighs weaken with every teasing brush against you.

Seungcheol isn't having any of it, however and he promptly delivers a harsh spank to the side of your thigh. "Keep your thighs spread for me, baby. I don't want to have to punish you," he coos in mock sympathy, a devious smirk spreading across his face as he watches you gasp and recoil from the spank, fresh arousal gushing out of you.

"Y-Yes, Cheol," you stammer out, readjusting your hold on yourself until your husband was seemingly satisfied. "Good girl," he groans before pushing himself into after what feels like eons. You feel your hold slipping once again as he sinks into you, his cock feeling thick and delightfully familiar inside of you. "So fucking tight," he moans, his hands coming up to replace your own as he watches his cock gradually move in and out of you, completely covered in your juices.

You feel yourself clench and spasm around him, getting used to the feeling of him inside of you. He still thoroughly stretched your insides out all these years later, the slight sting ebbing away to give rise to nothing but, pleasure.

"Cheol, so d-deep," you gasp out when he hooks your legs over his arms and leans forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, picking up speed all the while.

"You're always so wet and tight for me. Your pussy takes me so well, baby," he moans against your breast, pushing into you especially hard. "Can't wait to fill you up with my cum."

His words push you closer to the edge than you anticipated, walls gripping him harshly while your fingernails dig almost red crescent moons into his biceps.

"Yes, Cheol. I want it, please. I want you to c-cum inside of me," you whine out, wishing your legs were free so you could wrap them around him to pull him closer to you.

"Yeah? My baby wants me to fill her up like the good, little cumslut she is?" He asks against your ear, his voice low with arousal as the sound of skin slapping against skin rings throughout your bedroom.

You can tell he's close based on how hard he's throbbing inside of you and the sloppiness of his thrusts. His dark locks sticking to his sweaty forehead as he chases his release, the volume of his own sounds of pleasure increasing as well.

"Y-Yes, Cheol. I want you to fill me up, please. I'm your good, little cumslut," you cry out, reaching for one of his hands. Seungcheol seems to understand what you want because he's grasping your hand in his while he moans into the side of your neck, his climax punching him squarely in the gut before he realises it.

Tears spill down your face while he weakly continues to thrust into you, his hips jolting slightly ever so often. You don't think you'll ever tire of the sensation of Seungcheol cumming inside of you. It's still as hot and exhilarating as the first time he did it.

Your second orgasm isn't quite as earthshattering as the first one but, you still arch against him and milk him for the remainder of his cum all the same. He moves from your neck to look down at you in surprise and desire when he feels the telltale signs of your release and, cups your jaw with one hand and presses a heartbreakingly gentle kiss against your lips.

"Have I told you how hot you are lately? Because you're pretty hot," he mutters against your lips, his eyes alight with humour and affection.

"You could stand to mention it more. For what it's worth, I think you're really hot too but, could you let go of my legs? I think I'm losing feeling in them," you half wheeze out.

"Oh shit, sorry," Seungcheol says, moving to untangle your legs from his arms and settling ontop of you comfortably.

Usually you'd complain about his weight on you since your husband was practically all muscle and the sticky feeling between your thighs that was quickly becoming unpleasant but, you didn't want to ruin the fragile tranquility you two currently found yourselves in.

His hands soothingly massaging your thighs while your own ran along his shoulders and back.

"Best Christmas present ever. Solid 10/10,"

"Cheol, we have sex all the time. That doesn't really count as a Christmas present,"

"Well, you don't always dress up when we have sex so, that makes this time special. Plus, it's my gift so I get to decide whether it counts or not,"

"Do you want me to dress up more often?" You ask jokingly.

The way your husband moved his head to look at you probably broke some kind of world record for how quick he was, "Are you being serious?"

"I might consider it," you say in amusement, giggling at the genuine excitement on his face.

Well, New Year's was just around the corner. Perhaps it couldn't hurt.

[ajbullet]

My thoughts on episode 3 of PJO: (spoilers)

I so enjoyed doing this for the first two episodes and the response was great, so hey, maybe this will be an entire series thing

-The oracle was amazing. It was a perfect mix of creepy yet humorous with Percy’s perfect voice crack and “you’re a Halloween decoration” line. Having just reread the book, I wouldn’t have remembered that the prophecy came from Gabe so that was a really cool, book-accurate detail I enjoyed.

- The WAY PERCY CHOSE ANNABETH! I freaked out. Cause you know in the book Annabeth is just like “I’m coming” and that’s that. To see Percy go out of his way to CHOOSE her for his quest was so special to me and I loved it (even tho it was for a different reason than I originally thought.)

-Annabeth’s reaction to getting picked was perfect. This is a girl who has waited YEARS for a quest and in no way do I think she was expecting to be picked. Hoping, of course. But Leah’s expression of shock then excitement was perfect

- Grover talking to the horses

-Percy picking Grover

-“I’m going to back the best snacks” The snacks in question being tin cans

-Bro give Thalia a break Percy, wth 😭. He came at her so hard for someone he hasn’t even met. Which was hilarious and so Percy-like, but dang. I thought Annabeth was gonna kill him right then and there.

-“She met a Pinecone’s fate” Like this boy…🤭

-I loved watching Leah’s expressions the whole time the three of them were traveling to the bus terminal. I will never get over how subtle she is able to make her thoughts appear on her face. Like you could clearly tell she was taking everything in for the first time in 5 years, while still trying to remain calm and seem in control in front of the other two

-THE BICKERING OMGS. I wasn’t ready for the arguing, but it fits so well. It MADE SENSE. Like none of these kids know just how much they can trust each other and their all scared and they don’t really know what they are doing so of course they are going to fight and argue and take out their emotions on each other.

-Grover’s consensus song was perfect. I had no idea why he was clapping at first and when he started to sing I was scared because it had potential to be really cringy but I honestly think it fit his vibe and was cute.

-ok, so for the scene with Annabeth in the store, I loved of course cause it was my girl and I originally watched it as a kid with a lot of money placed in front of infinite candy and she couldn’t just pick ONE so she got them all and it was adorable. But I’ve also seen posts talking about her trying to read the wrapper and since she’s dyslexic she couldn’t tell what flavor was what so she got all of them, which would also make sense and is a perfect subtle detail. Now I just saw one post that said she was trying to pick the perfect candy to make Grover and Percy LIKE HER and that just about broke my heart. Feel free to comment or reboot with your opinions because I’ve loved seeing all these different takes on that scene. All I know is it was awesome and the contrast between a girl picking candy and immediately sensing something is wrong and putting up her guard was a perfect way of showing how life is for demigods

-The invisibility cap!!!!

-“We’re lost in the woods, somewhere in New Jersey and we’re never gonna make to LA” was all I could think about

- again the BICKERING. Annabeth calling Percy out. Her asking what he’s afraid of. Grover trying so hard to keep the peace. (As a middle sibling, I felt that in my soul). “He was my protector first!” Loved that. Just the whole conversation was so interesting

I’m gonna make a part two because I have so many more thoughts on Medusa and her story and I’m hungry so I’m gonna go eat.

Part two:

[saveregblackordie0726]

Sombre et Pur'

Chapter 9

Sixth Year – 1976 – October cont. 

The next two days passed in a blur of forced cheer and carefully executed smiles. Each act of kindness, each laugh shared with my friends – they all felt like I was desperately trying to patch the cracks in a crumbling facade. With every glance in a mirror, every whispered encouragement, I braced myself for the moment my monstrous reflection would stare back at me, confirming Regulus's twisted truth. 

Thursday found me curled up on one of the worn, plush sofas in the Gryffindor common room. The familiar warmth and flickering fireplace did little to chase away the chill that had settled in my bones. Peter, bless his ever-faithful soul, had sensed my lingering unease and insisted on a study session. Despite feeling adrift in a sea of Potions notes and Transfiguration diagrams, there was something undeniably soothing about his quiet company, his soft voice offering explanations I only half-heard. 

The common room bustled with the comfortable chaos I'd come to associate with Gryffindor life. Fifth-years argued good-naturedly over a game of Exploding Snap, the sharp snap of cards echoing through the room. A pair of first-years huddled near the window, their hushed whispers and furtive glances likely fueled by some mischief in the making. It was a scene of warmth and camaraderie – a sharp contrast to the tempest raging within me. 

Then, like a thunderclap shattering the fragile silence of my thoughts, James burst through the portrait hole, his usual boundless energy amplified by a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. 

"Alright, listen up!" he announced, his voice booming through the common room and silencing any other conversations. "Halloween's coming up, and I was thinking we could throw a proper bash!" Lily followed behind him, looking flushed as she plopped down beside him.  

Marlene, who had been engrossed in Charms homework, tossed her quill onto the table with a groan. "Oh, here we go," she muttered, but her tone was more amused than exasperated. 

Lily, ever the voice of reason, let out an exasperated sigh. "James, honestly, you're Head Boy now. You can't just throw wild ragers every holiday!" Her words were scolding, but the smile playing on her lips undermined any real severity. 

James, unfazed, scrunched his nose in a deliberately adorable pout. "Can't I?" he teased, and playfully tapped her knee which was now tucked against his lap. 

My lips twitched into a half-hearted smile at their familiar banter. The affection between them was palpable, an unspoken understanding that had been simmering just beneath the surface for years. With a pang of wistfulness, it struck me that it likely wouldn't be long before they finally gave in to the inevitable and made things official. 

The corner of my eye snagged on Sirius, who had been observing the exchange with a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes. He offered a grin that didn't quite meet his eyes and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Peter, oblivious to the undercurrents, launched into an enthusiastic discussion about potential Halloween activities – bobbing for apples, pumpkin carving, the lot. 

"We should definitely have themed costumes!" Lily chirped, her usual pragmatism dissolving under the exciting prospect of a party. 

"Maybe this year Moony and Padfoot won't end up taking turns retching in the loo," Peter added with a chuckle. He, James, and Lily burst into good-natured laughter, but a tense silence fell over Sirius, Remus, and me. We had all shared knowing glances, a silent acknowledgment of the previous year's disastrous Halloween celebration. 

The tension between Sirius and Remus had reached an all-time high that night. Their usual playful teasing had morphed into something sharper, a simmering resentment veiled by forced camaraderie and copious amounts of Fire whisky. They'd disappeared for hours, reappearing flushed and disheveled, carefully avoiding each other's gazes for the rest of the night. We never spoke of it, but the unspoken question lingered, a shadow hanging over their friendship. 

"Well, then," Sirius broke the uncomfortable silence, a forced cheerfulness masking the tightness in his jaw. Are we considering inviting other Houses again?" He caught my eye and offered a soft smile. "Besides Clem, of course." 

Marlene, ever-dramatic, let out a groan and dramatically draped herself across my lap. "Obviously, otherwise we'll be stuck with you lot," she declared with a mischievous grin. "Where's the fun in that?" 

The conversation shifted, descending into a lighthearted debate over decorations, food, and the potential for one of us slipping Rosemerta galleons in return for the Fire whiskey. My laughter felt forced, my participation hollow. Yet, as I watched my friends, the knot in my chest loosened fractionally. These moments – the easy banter, the shared laughter, the unwavering support – they were a lifeline. They were a reminder that even as darkness gnawed at the edges of my soul, there was still good in the world. Good worth fighting for. Maybe, just maybe, that was enough to keep the shadows at bay – for now. 

As evening descended, a familiar sense of dread settled upon me. Patrols with Regulus were a looming inevitability, and with every passing moment, the urge to hide beneath my covers grew stronger. It was a cowardly impulse, one at odds with the Hufflepuff bravery I prided myself on, but the darkness Regulus exuded chipped away at my resolve. 

The Gryffindor common room held me hostage under the guise of camaraderie. Lily insisted on another go at the glamour spell, determined to perfect the sleekness of my waves. Marlene quizzed me relentlessly on Herbology, claiming a surprise exam was imminent. Even Peter, with his quiet empathy, seemed to sense my reluctance and lingered over a chess game that usually would have lasted no more than twenty minutes. 

But time was a relentless hunter, and eventually, I could no longer justify the delay. As twilight painted the castle in shades of deep purple, I reluctantly stood, forcing a smile to mask the rising tide of apprehension. 

"Patrols," I announced, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. 

A hush fell over the gathered Gryffindors. Their eyes, filled with concern and unspoken questions, burned into me. I'd always been the one to ease their worries, to offer a reassuring smile. Now, I was the one desperately in need of reassurance I knew they couldn't give. 

Sirius, perhaps sensing my turmoil more keenly than the others, pushed himself up from the plush armchair he'd been occupying. "I'll walk you," he offered, his voice gentle, a stark contrast to his usual boisterousness. 

Gratitude washed over me in a warm wave. Without a word, I nodded and followed him towards the portrait hole. As we stepped out into the dimly lit corridor, a comfortable silence enveloped us. We fell into step side by side, his presence a balm against the oppressive weight of what awaited me. 

For a precious few moments, I allowed myself to simply exist in this pocket of normalcy – two friends silently navigating the castle halls. The familiar smell of old stone and lingering potions fumes brought a sense of grounding amidst the inner storm. But beneath the surface, unspoken worries churned. Sirius, despite his outward nonchalance, carried the burden of his family's darkness on his shoulders. Regulus was like a ticking time bomb, his allegiance a constant source of uncertainty. And I... I was caught between them, an unwilling pawn in a war I barely understood. 

As if sensing my spiraling thoughts, Sirius broke the silence. 

"How is he?" His voice was low, a whisper in the quiet hallway. 

I paused, contemplating the loaded question. Sirius's relationship with his brother was a twisted knot of love and betrayal, loyalty and rebellion. Despite the chasm that had grown between them, a flicker of concern still burned in Sirius's dark eyes whenever Regulus was mentioned. 

My fingers traced along the worn tapestry lining the corridor wall, finding comfort in the repetitive motion. Should I confide in him? Share the unsettling truths Regulus had laid bare, the darkness that now threatened to seep into my own soul? A part of me yearned to unburden myself to someone who understood the unique pain of fractured family ties. But something held me back, a lingering fear that exposing these vulnerable pieces of myself would leave me even more shattered. 

Instead, I settled on a half-truth, a careful deflection. "It's hard to say, Sirius. It's not as if we're having deep, meaningful conversations." I forced a wry smile, hoping to hide the tremble in my voice. "We barely speak, truthfully." 

Sirius nodded, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before he masked it with a sigh. His jaw clenched, a telltale sign of unspoken anger and frustration. 

"He still won't speak to me," Sirius muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. "Lost count of the owls I've sent... useless." He shook his head, a gesture both dismissive and defeated. 

"They've got their teeth in him, Kit" he continued, his voice low and filled with a resigned dread I understood all too well. 

My footsteps slowed as a wave of sympathy washed over me. Seeing Sirius so vulnerable, stripped of his usual bravado, was a stark reminder of the unseen consequences of this war that was bleeding into every corner of our lives. It was a battle waged not merely on some distant battlefield, but in corridors and classrooms, in whispers and silences that wove themselves into the fabric of our existence. 

I longed to offer a comforting platitude, a reassurance that everything would be alright, but the words felt hollow. There was no easy comfort, no quick fix for the darkness that threatened to engulf us all. Instead, I remained silent, allowing him this moment of unfiltered honesty. 

"Why do I even give a damn?" Sirius murmured, the question directed more at himself than at me. 

I paused, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He met my gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in those usually bright, rebellious eyes. It was the same stormy gaze I'd begun to see mirrored in Regulus. 

"He's your brother," I said softly, empathy threading its way through my voice. "I know I could never turn my back on either of my sisters." 

We'd reached the statue that marked the beginning of our patrol route. A familiar sense of dread coiled in my stomach, tightening with each passing moment. Sirius seemed to mirror my unease, a subtle tension radiating from him. Then, his focus shifted, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows across the veranda. 

His expression darkened. When he turned back to me, his features were schooled into a mask of cold indifference. 

"Give it time, Sirius," I urged, my voice quiet but insistent. 

A flicker of warmth crossed his face, a fleeting reminder of the loyal, caring boy beneath the layers of bitterness. He offered a single nod, a silent acknowledgment of my meager attempt at reassurance. 

"Send Zephyr to me when you make it back to your common room," he instructed. "And Clem... be careful." The worry in his voice was palpable, a stark contrast to the carefree persona he presented to the world. 

Wordlessly, I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. And then he was gone, leaving me alone. 

As I turned to survey the room once more, my heart skipped a beat. Regulus stood leaning against the crumbling stone statue, a sneer marring his pale face. His eyes, icy and unreadable, fixed upon me with a scrutiny that made my skin crawl. The darkness within him seemed to bleed into the room itself, casting the space in a sinister, oppressive light.  

Patrols with Regulus were always unbearable, but tonight the oppressive silence was magnified by the fading light. With each step, shadows lengthened, clinging to the walls like whispers of the darkness that threatened to consume us both. I forced myself not to look at him, focusing on the worn cobblestones and the faint echo of our footsteps. Yet, his presence was a palpable weight beside me, the scent of old parchment and something darker, something that stirred unease deep within me, mingling with the crisp autumn air. 

We reached the Charms corridor, the flickering torchlight barely illuminating the peeling paint and rows of locked doors. It was here, amidst this forgotten space, that Regulus finally shattered the stifling quietude. 

"You two seem close." His voice cut through the silence, cold and laced with an undercurrent of accusation. 

My lips curled into a humorless smile. "You mean Sirius? Your brother?" I scoffed, pushing open the door to a deserted Magical Theory classroom. With a flick of my wand, I surveyed the desks and dusty blackboard. Satisfied it was empty, I closed the door and continued our patrol, determined not to let him goad me. 

"He is no brother of mine," Regulus retorted, his sneer audible in the darkness. 

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Oh, come off it, Black." 

Something flickered in his eyes, a flash of surprise quickly concealed. "Pardon?" 

I turned sharply, mirroring his own accusatory stance from our exchange in the Astronomy Tower. "It's only us here, Black," I echoed his words from that night, the weight of them settling between us like a physical barrier. "You can drop the act." 

The impact of my words was visible. He stiffened, jaw clenching beneath his sharp cheekbones. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft whisper of the wind outside. 

Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with a forced nonchalance that rang hollow. "There is no act, Evans. He is a blood traitor, a disgrace to our family." 

"And I'm a Muggleborn," I fired back, my patience wearing thin. "But here you are, speaking with me." 

A venomous sneer twisted his lips. "Allow me to remedy that," he hissed, disgust dripping from each syllable. 

I shook my head, disgust mingling with a growing sense of defiance. He started to move, but I held my ground, forcing myself to meet his gaze. Our eyes locked, a silent battle of wills playing out in the half-light of the corridor. 

For a tense moment, I wasn't sure what he would do. Would he cast a hex, a curse motivated by the same blind hatred that fueled his family's beliefs? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, not out of fear for myself, but out of a bone-deep weariness at the relentless cycle of prejudice and violence that poisoned our world. 

Then, unexpectedly, he stepped back. The sneer remained, but a flicker of something I couldn't decipher flickered in his eyes. Frustration? Confusion? A hint of the vulnerability I'd glimpsed beneath his carefully constructed facade? Whatever it was, the moment passed. He resumed walking at my side, an unwelcome shadow in the dimly lit corridor. 

The silence hung heavy between us as we continued our patrol, a constant reminder of the unspoken chasm that divided us. Yet, as we reached the familiar spiral staircase leading to the Astronomy Tower, something shifted. It was as if the imposing stone walls and open sky created a strange sense of intimacy, an unspoken truth that labels, houses, and the rules of the outside world faded, at least temporarily, into the background. 

I lingered, the coolness of the iron railing a welcome contrast to the simmering tension between us. Against my better judgment, I found myself speaking. 

"He worries for you," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, a fragile olive branch offered across a battlefield of conflicting ideologies. 

He let out a humorless chuckle, leaning against the railing. His  almost shoulder-length dark hair, usually perfectly styled, was ruffled by the wind, adding a touch of boyishness to his otherwise chilling demeanor. 

"Does he?" His voice was laced with a bitterness that echoed my own inner turmoil. An uncomfortable silence descended. I watched as a cloud drifted across the moon, momentarily dimming the starlight that painted his features in an ethereal glow. 

"Maybe you should..." I started, uncertainty making my voice waver. 

The rest of the sentence died in my throat as he abruptly turned, interrupting my hesitant attempt at reconciliation. There was a new intensity in his gaze, a predatory glint that made my stomach clench. He took a step closer, his movements deliberate, closing the distance between us until the cool metal of the railing pressed against my back. 

"He should be worried," Regulus hissed, his voice so low it was almost a growl. "In fact," he paused, leaning in even closer, his breath ghosting across my cheek, "you both should be--” 

The question tumbled out of me before I could fully comprehend its implications. "Why do you do that?" My voice was quiet, laced with a hint of confusion and a defiance that surprised even me. I held his gaze, refusing to flinch as he continued to loom above me. 

"Do what, Evans?" he spat, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

"This," I gestured between the two of us, encompassing the invisible web of tension that thrummed in the air. "Trying to scare me into running away? Testing how much I'll take?" 

He remained silent, his face unreadable. It was as if my words had struck a nerve, a raw spot beneath his carefully crafted facade. His usual arrogance faltered ever so slightly, replaced by a flicker of something akin to vulnerability before it was ruthlessly suppressed. 

I pressed on, a surge of reckless bravery propelling me forward. "Or maybe," I lowered my voice, tilting my head in mock curiosity, "you're the one who's afraid." 

His jaw clenched, the muscle jumping visibly beneath his pale skin. His eyes, glacial and unyielding moments ago, now seemed to darken with a storm I couldn't fully decipher. There was anger there, yes, but something more - a ripple of unease beneath the surface of his controlled demeanor. 

"Maybe I want to hurt you," he hissed, his voice a dangerous whisper against the night air. "Maybe I want you to realize just how insignificant you are in the grand scheme of things." 

His words were meant to wound, to reaffirm the power he held over me. But instead, they fueled a strange sort of defiant amusement. A twisted smile touched my lips. 

"I can see past all of that, Regulus," I countered, a hint of challenge in my voice. "I can see the fear, the desperation... and I think you hate that I know." 

He moved then, a sudden, predatory shift that closed the remaining distance between us. His gaze, now locked on mine with a burning intensity, was a physical force, pinning me against the railing. The moonlight cast stark shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the cold determination in his eyes. 

For a suspended moment, time seemed to warp. The chill wind, the distant rustling of leaves, the echo of my own ragged breaths – they all blurred into a muted backdrop against the onslaught of his presence. There was an undeniable danger in his closeness, in the way his eyes seemed to bore into my very soul. Yet beneath the fear, a perverse thrill coursed through me. This was a dance on the precipice, a tantalizing brush with the darkness he embodied. And in that moment, a shameful part of me craved it. 

"Run on home, little dove," he murmured, his voice so low it was almost a caress. Yet, the words carried an unmistakable threat, a chilling promise of violence lurking just beneath the surface. "Before I break your wings." 

His hand shot out, fingers snaking around my upper arm. The fabric of my robe crumpled beneath his grip, the pressure a stark reminder of his strength, of the potential for pain he held within him. A gasp escaped me, a choked sound that was more of surprise than fear. But then, as suddenly as it had come, the intensity faded. His fingers loosened, withdrawing like a serpent retreating back into the shadows. He stepped back, the dangerous intimacy of the moment evaporating as quickly as it had materialized. There was a new distance in his eyes, a chilling coldness that sent a shiver down my spine. I was a pawn again, an opponent in the endless game he played, not a person worthy of his true, unmasked anger. 

"Go back to your common room, Evans," he commanded, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Before I change my mind." 

The dismissal was a slap in the face, a brutal reminder of the power imbalance between us. Yet, I didn't cower, didn't flee like a frightened bird as he intended. I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze with a stubborn determination that mirrored his own. 

"As you wish," I retorted, managing a shaky smile. Without another word, I turned and walked away, my steps echoing against the stone floor. My back prickled beneath his unwavering scrutiny, the unspoken threat lingering in the air like a poisonous mist. 

The descent from the Astronomy Tower was a blur. My heart pounded in my chest, a frantic drumbeat against the onslaught of conflicting emotions. Anger, fear, and a disconcerting flicker of exhilaration battled for dominance. Each step took me further from him, from the darkness he exuded, and back towards the comforting familiarity of the Hufflepuff common room. 

Yet, as I descended the winding staircase, a nagging certainty settled into my bones. This wasn't over, not by a long shot. Regulus Black was a storm cloud gathering on the horizon, and I had the terrible sense that I was both drawn to and terrified of the tempest he promised. 

The common room burst into view, a haven of warmth and laughter. My friends, blissfully unaware of the darkness I had faced in the tower, greeted me with smiles and casual questions about my patrol. I forced myself to respond, to slip back into the role of the cheerful, dependable Hufflepuff I was supposed to be. But it was a flimsy facade, barely concealing the shadows that clung to me like a second skin. 

Later, alone in the quiet sanctuary of my dormitory, the true weight of the evening settled upon me. My hand trembled as I untied the Hufflepuff knot on my robes, the bright yellow suddenly seeming garish against the backdrop of the confrontation that haunted my mind. 

Sleep was an elusive luxury. Each time I drifted towards unconsciousness; Regulus's face swam into view. His chilling words, the predatory glint in his eyes, his chillingly calm threat – they replayed in my mind like a twisted enchantment. I tossed and turned, the sheets tangling around me like a suffocating net. 

In the darkest hours of the night, the truth I had tried to deny echoed relentlessly. I was afraid of Regulus Black, of the capacity for cruelty I saw reflected in his eyes. But more than that, I was afraid of myself – of the darkness that lurked within, a darkness that answered his call with a terrifying and unwelcome recognition. We were shadows dancing in the moonlight, reflections of the war that threatened to consume us all. Sleep refused to offer any respite. My tumultuous thoughts, a chorus of whispers mirroring the ceaseless wind rattling the dorm window, banished any hope of escape. The shadows on the ceiling danced to a macabre rhythm, conjuring images of Regulus's icy gaze and the chilling touch of his fingers against my skin. A shiver traced its path down my spine, a stark reminder of the darkness that had tainted my patrol. 

Defeated, I pushed back the covers, the warmth of the bed offering no solace against the creeping unease. The pale moonlight filtering through the window cast long, eerie shadows across the room, lending an unsettling atmosphere to the once-familiar space. 

It was then that a flicker of recollection chased away the relentless onslaught of Regulus's chilling words. Sirius's parting request, his plea that I send an owl once I was safely back in the common room, suddenly resonated with new meaning. 

He had glimpsed the danger I had so foolishly danced with. 

With trembling hands, I reached for my wand, summoning Zephyr from her perch. She landed on my arm with a soft hoot, tilting her head inquisitively as if sensing my agitation. My fingers hastily scratched out a brief message, a silent confirmation of my safety and a word of thanks for Sirius's unspoken concern. 

"Take this to Sirius, please," I whispered, stroking Zephyr's feathers with a gentleness born out of a desperate need for a connection to warmth, to loyalty, to the light that Regulus threatened to extinguish within me. 

Zephyr took flight, a silent white specter disappearing into the darkness beyond the window. With her departure, a small sense of peace settled over me, a reminder that I wasn't completely alone in this battle against the shadows. 

Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, finally won out. As I burrowed back beneath the covers, my mind still raced, though the images of Regulus were slowly replaced by those of Sirius. His eyes, so like his brother's, yet brimming with warmth where Regulus held only ice, swam into focus. It was a comforting contrast, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness. 

I drifted into an uneasy sleep, images of storm clouds and silver linings clashing behind my closed eyelids. 

[beecreeper]

Briar Playlist Deepdive

Woe be upon you I wrote 1500 words yelling around music that makes me feel things

Rambling under the cut and also gonna reblog with a part two because of the audio limit

Starting with this because this is THE song that made me start compiling a playlist for her. THE Briar song of all time for me. Particularly her peak cult days. The “I want a life that will give me purpose” and “Don’t crack through my facade” lines delivered in with all the arrogant greedy rock star vibes hit especially good.

This one is very very much Briar’s pre-cult backstory. Honestly if I were to ever put the effort into a full animatic, this would be high on the list because I can see it SO WELL. The chorus “All the kids cried out ‘please stop you’re scaring me’, I can’t help this awful energy, god damn right you *should* be scared of me” is just sooooooo 🥺. I also love love love the lines “I’ve grown familiar with villains that live in my head, they beg me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead” as alluding to Bhaal sending her the urges to continue his own power and legacy.

This one I added really early in playlist building literally just because mushrooms. BUT there are some good in character moments to chew on ESPECIALLY the ending bit which is very much a vibe for Briar just after she murders her druid circle and decides AHAHA FUCK IT NO MORE FEELINGS EVER AGAIN.

This one is less about *specific* lyrics because the verses are kinda just vague ominous occult sounding stuff but OOH MAN THE VIBES ARE OFF THE CHARTS. If you want a song that captures of the vibes of a fantasy murder cult this is it.

This one is also pretty self evident I think, especially as the plot with Gortash progresses and her motivations shift just a *bit* from “I’m gonna murder everyone” to “I’m gonna take over the world and *then* murder everyone”. I like that “I'm gonna run this nothing town” makes me think of the city of Baldur’s Gate specifically. The “Bite my tongue, bide my time” line at the very beginning also reminds me of how she’s holding back her urge and *not* murdering Gortash until he’s done being useful to her. (This could also fit well into her post-tadpole vibes also. Biding her time in Act 1, actively planning to take the brain in Act 3).

I mean. Honestly explaining myself almost feels silly. It’s RIGHT THERE. This song is definitely a mutual one with Gortash, with both of them feeling this towards each other. A particular line that hits especially good is “Smells like something I’ve forgotten, curled up died and now it’s rotten” because a) yaaaaay rot imagery and b) alludes to Briar having deliberately killed that part of herself that tries to care about people.

Another one that honestly speaks for itself and a strong contender for a possible animatic because YAY CULT LEADER BUDDIES. I also particularly like this cover because I loooove the sort of wicked relish these ladies sing with and the more sultry of the two singers is one of my headcanon voices for Briar. Favorite lines include “If they say that I’m a god, that’s what I am” (so much so that I drew a piece for it) and also “If we don’t comply [...] I could see us being sacrificed or stuffed” (which I imagine Briar saying with a huge grin on her face at the idea).

This is one that I like to sort of fill in the nuance and contrast between Briar’s view and Gortash’s. “A coronation, a beheading, From the funeral to the wedding. Do you think they care where the crown goes?” is VERY much a bhaalist talking to a banite, you know?

[humankarkat]

PLEASE tell me about the admiral and gallo plain!!!

Oh fuck yes The Admiral has been on my mind a lot lately, thanks to @timmy-jims-and-the-shindills lol

It's an AU I started writing a few years ago that I'm in the process of reworking now. Originally, it was set around the same time as Mando, and the Ghost crew infiltrates an old star destroyer for intel on the rebuilding Empire and run into Lyste, who's now an Admiral. Lyste ends up having a come-to-jesus and finally defects, feeding the Republic intel to help them destabilize whatever efforts the Empire has been making to coalesce.

As it stands now though, especially after Ahsoka came out, I've been wanting to revisit it and adapt a few things. The two biggest changes I've landed on so far is that Lyste is going to be a commander, not an admiral, which I think makes more sense and adds more tension to the story. I've also decided it will be set closer to the fall of the Empire, so probably not long after the destruction of the second Death Star.

It's full of intrigue and espionage and angst and also my silly little Imperial OCs. I just think Lyste deserves more attention, okay??

"Lyste, put the blaster down." Kallus's voice was steady. Diplomatic. "Please." Lyste let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, ‘please’ is the last thing I expected to hear from you!” He was only a few years older than her, Sabine remembered, but he was already going grey around the temples. “After everything you’ve done.” His voice trembled slightly. “After everything you’ve done, how do you honestly expect me to react? Hm? You break into my ship, you kill my men, you threaten my command-” “What the Empire is planning to do with this data is-” “Planning? How could the Empire plan anything like this? We’re defeated! Destroyed, all thanks to you and yours!” “Exactly! The Empire was defeated, yet its remnants still try to wreak havoc on the Galaxy! Lyste, clinging to the past isn’t going to change the fact that-”  “YOU WILL NOT TAKE THIS FROM ME AGAIN!” There was silence between them for a long moment. Lyste’s breathing had become a bit labored. “You left me there. Alone. At his mercy.” His voice was hoarse. “Did you know what they would have done to me if they believed you? Did you care?” This caught Kallus off guard. “I… I hadn’t thought that far at the time, no.” “Of course not,” Lyste whispered. His gaze, and his blaster, fell just a little. “...Of course not.”

The Gallo Plain fic is a silly little thing I started writing last time I rewatched Red vs Blue. The Empire is going through a command overhaul where they're reorganizing a whole bunch of stations all at once, so Kallus gets reassigned to a little base on Lothal for about a week, just while they finish moving everyone around. The problem is that this is a dinky little base in the middle of nowhere that kinda slipped through the Empire's cracks, and the five troopers stationed there are taking full advantage of that by goofing off. Kallus tries to whip them into shape. It doesn't go well. It's an interesting week for him, to say the least.

It stood out against the unmoving yellow grasses of the surrounding plain, its gleaming metal walls blinding in the afternoon sun. Kallus started toward it with sweat already dripping down his back. It was smaller than he expected, actually, just one mid-sized building in the middle of an otherwise empty field, the sharp angles of Imperial architecture a stark contrast to the smooth bluffs around him.  As he approached, he saw a figure outside the main door. One of the troopers, clearly, although he was stripped down to his blacks and… reclining in a lounge chair? Kallus wondered where he even got a lounge chair, and why he was allowed to sit out in plain view, out of uniform, with his hands tucked behind his head and his eyes closed under the obviously non-regulation sunglasses. Kallus made a mental note to issue a formal reprimand and have a stern talk with his CO as he stopped in front of the man, his figure blotting out the sun and casting a shadow over him. “Listen, Jenkins, if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times. Don’t interrupt me while I’m on watch,” said the trooper, turning his head towards him but keeping his eyes closed. “Got to keep the base secure. Rebels never sleep, you know.”  “It seems you do, however,” growled Kallus.  The trooper’s eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, and he scrambled to sit upright and pulled his sunglasses off. “Oh, karking hells, the ISB! Whatever it is, I didn’t do it. Shavit, I mean– Sorry, sir– Agent, ah, kriff.” Kallus watched coldly as the trooper stood clumsily and brought himself to a sloppy attention, then kicked the chair away in a vain attempt to hide it from view.  “Welcome to Gallo Plain Base, Agent, uh… Kriff, Agent…” “Kallus,” said Kallus, his voice dripping with disdain. “You should have received a formal message from command about my arrival some time ago.” “We did, sir, it’s just…” The trooper cleared his throat, then continued sheepishly, “We thought it was a joke, sir. Or maybe sent to the wrong base by mistake, I dunno. Point is, we um. We didn’t believe you were actually coming.” “Is that so,” said Kallus, the scorn in his voice nearly palpable. “Well, it seems my work here is cut out for me.” He moved past the trooper towards the main entrance. “Gather the men, I’d like to address them,” he said over his shoulder, “And put your armor on, for gods’ sake.”

Thanks for the ask! I'm excited to see where these go eventually, especially the Lyste fic.

[somekindofadeviant]

Darla and Spike, the rarest pair in the polycule. The wonderfully caustic blondes. I think this might be one of the rarest non-crack pairs in the fandom, honestly, though they lived together for at least 20 years. We might not see them interact much with each other on-screen but we know they absolutely DID away from our view. There's so much room to fill in there in that negative space, and with two characters who have such compelling forces of personality.

Here's some of my favourites from what exists.

Warning: Some of these fics are hosted on old archives, warnings may be absent or non-exhaustive. They may contain, amongst other things, noncon and torture and oodles of murders. If you want detailed or specific warnings for a fic, please DM me or ask in the notes.

Sinews of the Heart by icemink - After Angel refuses to turn Darla, she goes looking for another member of her family to save her from the illness that is killing her. Gorgeous. Beautiful characterisation. I would happily read 5 million words more of this if it existed. Rating: Explicit, Era: A:tS Season 2/BtVS Season 5 Fearful Symmetry by icemink - Oh hey more DOES exist. This is the continuation of Sinews of the Heart. Sadly it seems to be a perma-WiP at 15 chapters, but it's still very worth reading. While Sinews is pure Spike/Darla, this one's working towards a Spike/Darla/Angel pairing. Rating: Explicit, Era: A:tS Season 2, Incomplete Lessons on a Ledge by icemink - A fun little smutty romp. Spike's troublemaking leaves Darla and him stranded, however will they pass the time? Rating: Explicit, Era: 1880

Family Reunion by Glassdarkly - Darla was afraid that without a soul she wouldn't be able to love her son. What if she was wrong? Or right, depending on your perspective. I'm beginning to think I'm unable to do a rec list without at least one Glassdarkly fic. Family Reunion is brutal, dark, and enthralling. When this author warns you it's one of their darkfics, you better listen to them, they're a master of the craft, it's a horror tale that will stab you in the gut then twist the blade. The location setting in this tale is one of my absolute favourites, it's so perfectly detailed you feel present there with every sense, it's as much a character as any of the humans or demons. Rating: Explicit, Era: 2007 (mostly) Paternity Suit by Glassdarkly - Did I at least one? Make that a few. This one sees Darla tracking Spike down after The Gift/Heartthrob with a task in mind and hoo boy does it hit right in the soft places. Darla at her ruthlessly cunning bestworst, and Spike at his broken apart inside crumpled up bestworst. Rating: Mature, Era: AU Post-BtVS Season 5 Brief Encounter by Glassdarkly - At a time of change and a final parting of the ways, a long-kept family secret comes to light. A post-war piece that, among other things, answers why Spike was so suspicious of Angel in School Hard in contrast to their time on the submarine. Vividly evocative descriptions and atmosphere as always, fantastic historical detail too. Rating: Mature, Era: 1947

Revenge by DeborahMM - Darla grows tired of Angelus's attentions to Drusilla and decides to take her revenge. Exquisitely naughty and a bit bloody. Rating: Explicit, Era: 1880 or 1881

Giving Him The Moon by Peasant - Okay so this is actually a Fanged Four piece, and the primary ships in it are Angelus/Spike and probably Darla/Angelus, but damn if it doesn't have some of my absolute favourite Darla and fledgling Spike interactions, and it's a lovely take on Darla in particular. It's Spike being forced to learn Fyarl and a nice take on the frustrations of struggling to learn a new language. Rating: Explicit, Era: 1887

Triangles Are Falling by lillianmorgan - A delicious messed up encounter between punk Spike and Farrah-hair Darla that has some gorgeous character voices and a sneaky lil sting in the tail. Rating: Explicit, Era: 1977 Entertainment and Spectacle by lillianmorgan - A double drabble. What Darla sees in William, and what William sees in Darla. There's something so vividly intense about the dynamic Lillian crafts between these two. Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian Cracking the Code by lillianmorgan - A lovely little moment on the way to the theatre. The language here is just a delight, derring-do indeed! Rating: Teen+, Era: Victorian Raging Against the Dying Light by lillianmorgan - Ah, poor dumb Spike all hopped up and out of his head on Slayer blood and on his most gloriously dumb shit vs Darla at one of her worst moments bound up in loss. Rating: Mature, Era: 1900

Cold Comfort by ash_carpenter - Spike recognises that he and Darla are alike in envy and the craving of attention/affection from the other two, and gives her a little comfort or something akin to it. Bittersweet and beautiful. Rating: Mature, Era: Victorian

Idle Threats Does Not A Greatgrandsire Make by FemailoftheSpecies - Just working something out. Conflict resolution. A lil bit of brutal fun. Rating: Explicit, Era: Victorian Creative Differences by FemailoftheSpecies - William and Darla don't see eye to eye. Darla and Angelus, but it's all about William. A funny lil ficlet, with poetry. Of a sort. Rating: Mature (after a fashion), Era: Victorian

Waiting Room by loraineee - A liminal encounter. Just a conversation in the space between. Brief yet intriguing. Rating: Teen+, Era: Post-B:tVS Season 7, Pre-A:tS Season 5

Decadent by Kate Bolin - Darla deserves worship. Spike is barely worthy. A gorgeous fragment of reverence. Ecstasy and agony. Rating: Mature, Era: Unclear

Static by Foxinator - Another between-seasons piece in the summer following Season 5 of BtVS. Darla's looking for Dru to get some insight into what's happening to her body, but she runs into a grieving Spike instead. Just a moment, a conversation, but it captures the characters at a time so strange and pivotal for each of them. Rating: G, Era: Post-BtVS Season 5, Pre-BtVS Season 6

The Queen by aliceinsunnydale - The Illustrated A to Z Guide of Sex Positions for Women explains The Queen as: Get your subject to kneel at your feet and don't give them permission to rise until they've earned either a knighthood or your royal approval to stay for the night. A delicious pwp in a tailor's shop. Rating: Explicit, Era: Victorian

Sitting Together, Simply Observing by aliceinsunnydale - 'More often than not, when in court, Darla and Spike could be found sitting together, simply observing.' A quiet moment of bonding, quite sweet. Rating: G, Era: Victorian Spike/Darla - Five Times Kissed by aliceinsunnydale - Just as the title says. A nice series of snapshots mapping the changing ways the two see each other. Rating: Mature, Era: Pre-Series (Victorian through 1970s)

Home Sweet Home by Rebcake - When Spike is introduced in School Hard, it's clear he's been in Sunnydale before. Rebcake is a master of drabbles, and this is no exception. Rating: Teen+, Era: 1950s

Lessons from the Lady of the House by joycometh - Darla gives William a sorely needed education in a certain subject. Both delightful and amusing. Poor clueless Will or, rather, poor Drusilla. Rating: Explicit, Era: 1880

A Brighter Shade of Darkness by brutti ma buoni - Spike can learn a lot from Darla. He doesn't always enjoy it. A rather illuminating lil ficlet. Rating: Teen+, Era: 1893

Bloody Unnatural by snickfic - A missing scene, a moment of connection. Warm and caring and quite lovely, in a bittersweet way. Rating: Teen+, Era: BtVS Season 6 A Right Sorry Couple of Vamps by snickfic - Alive and human again, all Darla wants is the brief illusion of freedom, and maybe a beer. Naturally, she's just thrilled when she finds Spike, too...Another one that's quite sweet and caring, in an odd way. Rating: Teen+, Era: AtS Season 2

I'm Not Supposed To Be Like This by spuffyduds - Another missing scene in the summer of Buffy's death and Darla's pregnancy. This one may not be so warm and caring, but dang if it doesn't have some brilliant and funny moments instead. Features the Buffybot, too. Rating: Maure, Era: Post-BtVS Season 5, Pre-BtVS Season 6

The Point by carlyinrome - A neat little drabble. What is the point in William? Rating: Mature, Era: Victorian

Waiting For Alice by thawrecka - He is not afraid. She is not bothered. It is not real. When Spike is dragged over and over to that place, she is there. They cling to each other. Beautiful and bleakly arresting. Rating: Teen+, Era: A:tS Season 5

Vantage Ground by _-SuN-_ - Vivid imagery and lush lyrical language. Darla in the aftermath of her loss, spiralling, as she travels with the two children of the family. Rating: Mature, Era: Victorian

Adult Education by Vampire_Penguin - Darla teaches both her boys a lesson. Darla/Spike with Angelus kinda in the mix or, at least, very much adjacent. Wantonly wicked in the best kind of way. Rating: Mature (pushing Explicit), Era: Victorian

Darla: The Series by dessert_first - Okay but what if Angel Investigations but it was Darla's show instead of Angels, post-NFA instead of an AU, key roles gender-flipped, and yer dead favourites got screen time. Sadly this is a WiP last updated in 2005, but it's worth a read for some awesome moments and a brilliant set-up. Mostly ensemble with a lil Sparla in there. Rating: Explicit (in ch5), Era: Post-A:tS Season 5

[dragonheart-swtor]

Friends and Fears

Summary: Eris is the Alliance Commander, Cipher Nine; Reykal is the most recent champion of the Great Hunt. Each of them finds someone utterly unintimidated by them in the other - something both of them need, especially when discussing old fears usually best left buried. Or, Just a quick one-shot of a bar chat between friends that should've taken me a week and instead somehow took me the better part of a year because I kept getting stuck. (Title subject to change, I've been sitting here for twenty minutes and can't think of anything better so it's either this or the doc name which is just "Spooky", if anyone comes up with anything better feel free to give me a heads-up)

Tags: Female Bounty Hunter & Female Imperial Agent, alcohol consumption (not excessive)

Find me on AO3 at Dragonheart37!

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The tiny, grimy cantinas that dotted the streets of every space station like this one were always bustling with activity, rowdy with fights and gambling and music, and this one was no different. It wasn't the kind of place where you couldn't take your hand off your credit purse, but it definitely was the kind of place you wanted to keep a vibroknife on you at all times, just in case. Any self-respecting citizen – Imperial, Republic, or Alliance, and probably Zakuulian too – would steer clear of a place like this. Which was, of course, exactly why it was the best kind of place for an Alliance Commander and a Great Hunt champion to disappear; Reykal always fit right in without even trying, and all it took was a change of makeup and a less formal outfit for Eris to go unnoticed in a place where no one was looking for her.

Reykal had promised this particular spot had the best food and drinks this side of the station, and she wasn't wrong – the fare here was greasy, but good, and came in truly enormous proportions. Better yet, it was busy and loud, and after a quick scan and sweep for bugs – purely out of habit, of course – Eris could actually believe that she didn't need to be on high guard for people listening in. It was nice to just settle in and amiably listen to Reykal spin dramatic stories of her most impressive hunts – even if she'd heard one or two of them before – and of her most recent ones as well, side jobs taken while the Alliance didn't have anything of import for her.

She was just wrapping up one such story when Eris spotted the Sith.

Eris, through sheer power of habitual control, did not stiffen at the sight of him – masked and robed in full Sith garb, clearly just passing through the cantina on his way out from a back room somewhere. She tracked him for a moment – but he didn't turn to look at them, just swept past as if the room were empty instead of crowded with people. She carefully didn't turn to watch him go, despite the urge to do so and despite seeing Reykal turn out of the corner of her eye. Instead, as soon as she was satisfied he wasn't approaching them, she locked her eyes on the reflections in her glass to the exclusion of all else, using the visual focus to shutter everything else away. If there's nothing else in your mind, there's nothing they can read. Just glass, light and color reflected over the curved surface, playing shapes over the pale green liquid inside, tiny bubbles floating to the surface – no thought, no emotion, just glass. Nothing they can read.

“Kinda spooky, aren't they?”

She glanced up at Reykal's interruption. The Togruta sipped her brandy. “Sith. Jedi. Force people.” She wiggled her fingers as if that needed further explanation. “The way they move, the way people move for 'em without even realizing. How they answer questions you haven't even asked sometimes.” She snorted into her glass. “Fuckin' spooky.”

Eris chuckled despite herself, tension easing at the sheer casualness of Reykal's blasphemy. The Sith was gone, the door swinging shut behind him as Reykal spoke – out of the usual range of mental contact. Reykal's eyes sparkled with humor too; she stretched her arms out in front of her across the bar like a cat, all relaxed grace despite her bulk. “It's not the way I would have put it,” Eris admitted, “but I can't say you're wrong.”

“They make everybody nervous. It's not just you. Though I'm surprised you haven't gotten more used to 'em, considering.” She smiled when Eris blinked, a little surprised. “You hide it well. But you quit moving for a split second every time one of 'em comes into the room. You spend more time watching them than me, or Dad, or Hylo. Which probably isn't good for your wallet, knowing Dad and Hylo.” She grinned to take the edge off the joke, points of her fangs still hidden.

“Apparently I don't hide it well enough,” Eris remarked, sipping her own drink – some bubbly lime-and-mint mix she'd already forgotten the name of that the bartender promised tasted almost exactly like its alcoholic version – as she scanned the crowd once. “I've had some... bad experiences. Let's just put it that way.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. You worked with 'em back in the Empire, right?” Reykal rested her chin on one hand, fingers tapping her temple absently. “I did a job for some Intelligence guy, back in the day. Forget his name. Seemed pretty skeeved by the whole thing. Ended up having to kill him after he did try to murder me. 'Loose ends,' or whatever.”

Eris blinked. “Oh, that was you? I think I heard about that.”

Reykal raised her eyebrows. “Really? I thought it was supposed to be under the table, nobody was supposed to know about it.”

Eris laughed aloud at that, shaking her head. “Intelligence always knows.” She paused. “Which probably wasn't the most comforting thing to say, was it?”

“Probably not.” Reykal grinned at her again. “I figure if Intelligence was going to come after me, they'd have done it by now.”

“You were a low-priority target,” Eris assured her, smiling back wryly. “We had bigger fish to fry, at the time. That would have been right before the Dominator blew up and everything went to hell.”

“Bigger fish to fry, eh?” Reykal chuckled. “I'm insulted.”

“Intelligence deals with pretty big fish. Be glad you weren't one of them.”

“Speaking from experience?” Reykal asked, arching an eyebrow.

Eris shrugged, sipping her drink again to hide her smile. “That's classified.”

Reykal scoffed, mocking exasperation at the old half-joke. “'That's classified.' Someday I'm going to have to get some actual drinks in you to get all those classified stories out of you.” She winked. “Personally, I think you just can't hold your alcohol and that's why you're never caught dead with it.”

“That's also classified.” She didn't bother to hide the grin this time.

“Kriff's sake,” Reykal exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “You're impossible. I don't know why I bother.”

Eris laughed. “I'm sure you're very put-upon to deal with me.”

Reykal downed the rest of her glass and turned to flag down the bar droid; Eris took the opportunity to sip her drink and sift through her thoughts again, deliberating. “You're right,” she murmured after a moment of quiet. Reykal turned back to her, raising an eyebrow, and she clarified, “The Sith do... make me nervous. They all do, but... Sith especially.” She huffed a half-hearted laugh. “It's not exactly a secret, at least not to them. They can feel fear a mile away.”

Reykal took her refilled drink absently, attention focused on Eris much more seriously than she had been before. “Working with 'em doesn't help?” she asked. “You and Beniko seem... close.”

Eris tapped the rim of her drink, staring down into it as she thought through her next words. “Minister Beniko and I have worked together closely for long enough that I'm no longer concerned about her...” She trailed off.

“Acting like a murder-hobo Sith?” Reykal filled in. Eris gave her a look that made her snort and raise an appeasing hand. “Sorry. But you were thinking it too.”

“I would have phrased it more tactfully,” Eris sighed, “but... yes. Sith... they tend to use their power to its utmost to control those around them. It's just how things are in the Empire. And they have a great deal of power.” She pursed her lips. “Do you know some cultures worship Force-users as demigods?” Reykal shook her head. “It's true. And who can really blame them?”

Reykal nodded. “A lot of people are scared of them. Not just in the Empire, either. Anyone in their right mind would be wary.”

“It's... bizarre, to be equal to a Force-user,” Eris admitted. “In the Empire, even the lowest Sith acolyte ranks above the Force-blind. To have Minister Beniko and Darth Nox at my war table – my war table – and not be answering to them as superiors... I'm still not used to it, even after all this time. And Master Garen'ishta, and the Barsen'thor – even Senya. I'm used to having to be afraid of them. At this point, I'm not sure I'm capable of not being nervous around them. Not...” Not after Jadus. And Zhorrid. But that she couldn't say out loud, not here, not even to Reykal. “Not after working directly under them for so long.”

Reykal hummed sympathetically, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “I don't blame you. I talk a big game, but really, Force-users have been some of my most dangerous targets. There's a reason most hunters don't take contracts on them at all.” She took a sip of brandy, jaw working as she thought. Quietly, barely audible over the noise of the bar, she added, “D'you actually think any of 'em might turn on you?”

Eris pursed her lips, but shook her head. “Not at this point. The Jedi will fight alongside us for as long as they're convinced our cause serves the greater good – no matter how much the Barsen'thor pretends to be aloof. If Nox were going to turn on us, she would've done it by now; she's had ample opportunity, and in any case, she hates Zakuul and Arcann for stealing her place in the Empire from her too much to ally with them. Senya... Senya will stay loyal for now, at least. And Minister Beniko has long since proved her loyalty, as I said.”

“Well, that's good, at least.” Reykal cracked a grin. “Better'n if you were actually logically worried about 'em.”

Eris smiled. “Are you insinuating that I'm being illogical?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“You are insufferable,” she said mildly, taking another sip of her drink.

Reykal laughed aloud, fangs flashing in the light. “Eh, that's why you like me. None of that faffin' about trying to be dainty and diplomatic about it.”

Eris shook her head, still smiling, but didn't deny it. It was true, really – Reykal was perhaps the only person she talked to on a regular basis who wasn't constantly embroiled in politics and diplomacy, who was brashly open about her thoughts and feelings. It was refreshing, if she was honest – a chance to relax for once, to not constantly have to be watching her every word and gesture. To pretend they were just two friends at a bar and nothing more, for a little while.

Reykal spun around on her stool and leaned back against the bar, flipping her back lek over the edge so it wouldn't get crushed. “We should go shooting after this,” she offered, grinning lazily at Eris. “See if your pistol aim's gotten any better.”

Eris arched an eyebrow, eyeing her skeptically. It was hard to tell in the cantina's soft mood lighting, but she was fairly sure Reykal's lekku were flushed a deeper red than usual. She half-smiled. “I think you've had one too many drinks for that, Master Candessan.”

“Pah, too many drinks. I've shot in worse situations'n this, more drunk'n this.” She grinned again to take the edge off the comment. “Suit yourself, though. What do you do for fun, anyway, when you're not gettin' swamped by hell-knows-what kinda work from the Alliance?”

“You might have heard of this thing called 'reading,'” Eris said, allowing herself an impish grin.

Reykal scoffed playfully through her teeth. “Oh, sure, now the high-and-mighty Imperial act  comes out.”

“Don't tell me you're a literary connoisseur.”

“Doesn't mean I don't read.” She stuck out her tongue at Eris in a gesture so childish it startled a genuine laugh out of her. “Miss Hoity-Toity Imperial-Logo-Boxers over here, makin' fun of us peasant folk. What's the Alliance come to?”

Eris swatted her shoulder, trying and failing to stifle her laughter. “Why do I tell you anything?”

“'Cause you like me,” Reykal reminded her cheerfully. She slid off the stool to stand next to the bar. “C'mon, finish your drink already and let's get outta here. We can go window-shopping on the boardwalk and see if there's anything to spend the night on.”

“I do have work to do tomorrow,” Eris told her, but she swallowed the last of her drink and stood as well, sliding a credit chit across the counter to the bar droid as it clanked over.

Reykal wagged a scolding finger at her. “Ay, none of that. You said we'd get a night on the town, you're getting a night on the town. You work yourself too hard.”

“Very well,” Eris agreed, shaking her head with a fond smile. “But I draw the line at drunk bounty hunting or robbing anyone in an alley.”

“You're no fun.” Reykal offered her arm with a dramatic flourish and Eris took it with another laugh, letting the bounty hunter lead her out the door.

[xxsabitoxx]

Seven Minutes in Heaven • Itadori Version

A/N: probably gonna just alternate between DS & JJK for these lol — as always, all characters are of age in these fics. Typically I describe them as the age they’d be in 2022 lol. Anyways, enjoy :)

Word count: 1.7k

“Do you come here often?”

Of course he’d start with a cheesy joke. You rolled your eyes, his breath smelt like alcohol. Though you were certain yours smelt just the same. A stuffy little closet left nowhere to hide, even if you were keeping as much distance from each other as possible. “Actually, yeah.” You laughed, even in the dark you could tell he was smiling. “I don’t wanna pressure you or nothin. So if you don’t wanna do anything, just say so.” Itadori was probably the best man you could have gotten locked in a closet with for seven minutes.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you…” the thing is, the alcohol made you feel a little more daring. “I… I was thinking we could just… I dunno… make out?” You wanted to feel his hands on you. One of the star athletes on campus, not only was he handsome, he was also a sweetheart and genuinely caring. He didn’t judge anyone, he never turned someone away. While your majors were different and you didn’t really fancy going to frat parties, you were lucky he was friends with someone like Megumi. He was way more your pace, but he still threw kick ass parties, ones that Itadori attended without fail every time.

You’d been lusting after the pink haired athlete for months now. You weren’t going to pass up an opportunity presented to you by fate. “Oh! Shit I… I’d like that.” He seemed shy, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head. That was another thing that pulled at your heart, he was unbelievably polite. “So… Can I kiss you, Itadori?” You must have been drunker than you realized, there was no way being locked in a closet with him made you this much more daring. Hell if it was as easy as this? You would have gone for it months ago after a couple of shots. “Y-you can.” He was thankful for the dark or else he was pretty sure you’d see his lips trembling.

Despite your asking, Itadori was the one to close the little distance there was. Less than a step forward and he was right there, your breath mingling even more now that your lips were centimeters apart. Neither of you spoke, instead shaky hands found their home somewhere on the other’s body. You pulled him down to your height, lips ghosting him. You were teasing him, waiting to feel the satisfaction of him leaning in first. It seems Itadori had the same thing in mind, slowly letting it become a game of who would crack first. Honestly… probably not the best mini game to play during seven minutes in Heaven, but neither of you seemed to mind.

You kept his face cupped between your hands, a breathy laugh escaping you. “This is rude.” He breathed out, voice cracking slightly as he waited for you to respond. “Maybe it is… but I think it’s fun.” Your lips ghosted each other again, feathery light and Yuji swore this could kill him. Your lips parted, he was engulfed by the scent of vodka on your lips. He was mentally noting that you preferred stronger drinks, likely because Maki always convinced you to do shots with her. That was the thing Yuji never let on, he knew who you were. Not only were you a frequent guest at the parties Megumi threw, you were good friends with Maki. Another star athlete known on campus.

He was itching to get to know you better. Megumi, however, always refused to introduce the two of you. Something about needing separate friends because Yuji always managed to corrupt them into party animals. Yuji respected that wish up until this very moment. “Fuck… just kiss me please.” He tightened his grip, pulling so you were flush against his body. Even through his clothes you could tell he had rippling muscles, quite the contrast to his innocent face. “Make me…” you weren’t giving up that easily. Yuji’s self control faded completely, your breath was stolen straight from your lungs as his lips finally crashed to yours.

A noise of shock was muffled against his eager tongue. You couldn’t make yourself to tease him more, not when a knock on the door signaled half of the seven minutes had already gone by. “Yuji…” his first name slipped past your lips easily. The groan that left him vibrated your whole frame, his hands seeking purchase on your ass instead. You squealed as he pulled you up, pulling you right to your tiptoes as he slotted his thigh between yours. “We are…” he panted as he pulled away. “Leaving this party… The second time is up.” You nodded, pulling him back greedily. You knew not much could be done for you within the three minute you had left. Yuji on the other hand…

“Let me suck you off…” you whined as your lips left his again. “Please… Yuji I wanna get you off so bad.” He could have cum on the spot, even in the dark he was squeezing his eyes shut in concentration. “I-if you wanna… go ahead.” He didn’t fight back as you settled back on your feet, one hand reaching out to push him away. Yuji’s back hit the opposite wall, hips jutting out a bit to give you easy access. The soft thumb of your knees hitting the ground was the only indication of where you were. “I bet you’re big.” You teased softly, skilled hands undoing his pants while placing chaste kisses to the growing bulge.

“Yeah? I’ll let you judge.” He was confident in what he had down there. He had a good length, but his real pride came with his girth. He couldn’t wait to leave, just so he could get you in his bed. “I bet you’d look so pretty spread nice and wide for me.” He choked out, dirty talk wasn’t his forte but it felt right to say in the moment. “Oh? Fuck I bet I would.” Your breathing halted as you pulled his jeans down to his knees, his cock slapping against his stomach. “Oh… yeah I definitely would.” A soft whine left his lips, barely audible as you pulled him towards your mouth. You gave him slow, languid pumps before spitting into your hand. He was dripping precum but you still wanted him wetter.

“Two minutes!” Maki’s voice boomed as she pounded her fist against the door. “Well, don’t hold back on me, Yuji.” Your lips suctioned to his head, tongue swirling around him slowly. “Oh shit…” his head fell back, hands trembling as he tried to figure out what to do with them. He couldn’t believe how soft your tongue felt, how good your hands felt on him. Sure he’d had a couple of hook ups before, he even had a girlfriend for about a month at one point. None of them felt this good though, there was something about you that simply set his body on fire. You let your jaw relax, pushing your head down an inch or two. Swallowing was difficult but the rewarding noise that followed made it feel worth it.

“Y/n…” now it was your turn to be surprised by the use of your first name. You hummed, sending vibrations straight through him. You bobbed your head now, taking in about half of his length and using your hand to pump the rest of him. The heat in your gut was building, it felt like there was a frenzy of butterflies forming in your gut. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you later on. The aching pulse between your thighs would be worth ignoring for the time being. “Y/n…” he drew out for a second time, this time his hands anchored into your hair. He tugged you softly, coaxing you to take more of him.

You let him, jaw relaxing to accommodate more than three quarters of his length. You gagged softly as he pushed you further, embarrassment flooded your cheeks but the noise only made him groan. “Sorry… shit sorry… that was hot though…” a strangled noise slipped past your lips in response. Your head pulled back, allowing a little bit of relief before you pushed yourself back down again. Another bang on the door signalled a minute left. He couldn’t hold back anymore, the tight feeling in his abdomen was driving him insane. “Gonna… ‘m gonna cum.” He gritted out, breath halting in his chest as his release crept closer. You encouraged him by moving a little quicker, pulling back to focus your attention on his head.

Your tongue lapped softly at the sensitive tip, Yuji’s hand tightened in your hair to keep you in place. You loved the feeling, the way his hands were pulling the strands of your hair taut. A moan spilled past your lips just as Yuji spilled past yours. You took it eagerly, barely even reacting as his release landed on your tongue. You pulled off of him with a soft pop, swallowing the contents before standing. “We’re going right back to your place…” you huffed out, shifting uncomfortably as you felt your panties sticking to you. “Absolutely we are…” you were positive his cheeks were red, a second later Maki was banging on the door. “You got ten seconds to make yourselves look presentable.” A chorus of laughs could be heard alongside the music beyond the closet door.

“Thank you…” Yuji muttered softly as the zipper of his pants went back up. He was already getting hard again at the thought of getting you home. “Any time, lover boy.” It slipped out easily, a smile creeping up your face as you reached for the doorknob. “I’ll meet you out front in five minutes.” The LED party lights flooded the small closet as you winked at him. “Five minutes…” he murmured back before following you out.

[funnygirlthatbelle]

since we’re about to hit episode ten, here’s a few things i love that each cast member is doing

travis

~first off, the balls to do that fakeout

~the fact that he joined them for the intro every time even when he wasn’t going to play? such a tease

~the way he’s created two characters that are clearly joke characters, but imbues them with a lot of empathy 

~bertrand’s last night; he brought so much to it that lends to the tragedy

~using his past experiences as fjord to understand how fucking fun teasing dorian would be 

~honestly, just the fact that he makes an effort and consistently engages with robbie

robbie

~the aesthetic is just *chef’s kiss* right here

~slipping up and saying “the nine of us” because he counted matt

~he doesn’t use a ton of spells, but when he does, it’s very effective

~not afraid to look bad; this can be really tough with roleplay but he doesn’t seem to care if he looks like an idiot 

~setty

~everything going on effects dorian- he’s very active and reactive to what’s going on in the game

marisha

~the entire concept of laudna is a delight

~her choice of voice; the contrast between such a cheery voice and her appearance is perfect

~the conversation about love; it was such a genuine exploration of a nebulous sort of topic

~how marisha commits to the joints cracking and popping; as someone with arthritis, it makes me laugh and wanna take tylenol at the same time

~bringing delilah back- just a delightful choice

~the way marisha seems fine with the fact that most npcs hate/fear her even though that’s obviously inconvenient

sam

~taking the leap into robots

~how he keeps finding new ways to play small characters 

~also he/they! hell yeah!

~the decision to play a therapist friend who’s actually a really bad therapist is really intriguing to me, and i can’t wait to see where he takes it

~the foreshadowing he’s already doing for the inevitable “actually i am a deeply tragic character” moment

~pussy

ashley

~ashley looks so happy and relaxed knowing she’s here full time and it makes my heart so happy

~the gale ad

~fearne really allows her to be funny in a way she hasn’t gotten to before and it’s a delight

~little mister, our favorite seven year old

~most chaotic characters are so loud, having a really soft-spoken one only makes her chaos even more shocking 

~whatever’s going on with her hand and how that may tie into what we saw in exu

laura

~the decision to play a human

~this is a weird thing to latch onto but i love imogen’s color palette 

~laura’s dedication to making sure that her powers are just as much a hindrance as they are helpful, since that’s clearly such an important part of who she is

~honestly, how open imogen is with her boundaries. it can be really hard to set those sometimes even in real life but she does this wonderfully

~how much she clearly cares about launda

~calling fcg letters

liam

~his commitment to reminding us that orym is a halfling, especially with his physical acting

~the way he’s so on top of all of his fighter abilities and makes the most of them

~playing a dex-based fighter; it’s legit just cool

~his signature liam o’brien small acting moments 

~the way he clearly loves keyleth so much still and has no problem showing it

~when matt made a phantom of the opera joke and he inexplicably started singing les miz

taliesin

~he/they!

~honestly i feel like ashton is a refined version of molly in a lot of ways with a clearer moral compass; i feel like i’ve met this person and loved them

~once again, the aesthetic; taliesin always goes off but ashton in particular is cool

~the “pretending not to care about these people but also i bought you all breakfast sandwiches” style of friendship is so fun to me

~mechanically, just so cool. they’re so fun in combat

~the mystery of it all! what’s going on here, bud? 

matt

~so many great npcs: lord eshteross, pretty, cyrus, everybody at the crook house, etc.

~i feel like a lot of the “normal” people are extra fun this time around; all of our random store owners and criminal contacts act very realistically, but in a fun way that reminds us that what our heroes are doing is absolutely insane

~imogen’s dream about bertrand

~the worldbuilding of jrusar is very interesting and odd, and im excited to see how it all goes down

~really interesting, unique monsters from the get go

~he’s clearly making the most of the new set up and i can’t wait to see what else he does with it

[dovahkinniez]

Do one of Vilkas bf cannon!

VILKAS BF HEADCANONS!

— bf vilkas. <3

he and his brother are polar opposites, so in a relationship the contrast between the two can be mildly a shock, to you and those around you.

vilkas is the type of man to stick to strictly business, he’s a bit of a ‘grump’ (as you’d conclude based off first meeting.)

as you become well known as a companion, or if you simply help the companions, he does warm up slowly due to the fact you will be around each other often.

at first he wouldn’t make the effort to converse with you, whether that be awkwardness or him being antisocial. he just wouldn’t strike up a conversation off his own back.

(maybe i could write when vilkas fancies the reader)

but, once in a relationship or pretty much into one, his interactions with you do slowly become noticeably different to how he interacts with everyone else - even his closest friends and family.

he speaks more to you than anyone else, and the silence is comfortable rather than ‘wtf do i say? why does he keep side-eyeing me..? do i look weird? is there something on my face??’ - which most likely your thought process before he let his guard down.

his love language is quality time together, it doesn’t matter where or what you are doing, as long as you’re in each other’s presence he’s good.

but his favourite times are when going on aimless travels in the wilds of skyrim, not going anywhere specific, he just likes being in the open air with you.

he’s secretly a romantic, hell yeah. i know he is.

leaves random notes by the bedside table if he wakes up before you - it’s only simple little sayings but they’re always super cute.

wraps an arm around your shoulder affectionately, pressing a kiss against your hair before he leaves to do some work. random small physical affections like this, nothing too much - in public anyway - but he prefers to do stuff like that instead of verbally saying ‘i’m leaving, see you later’.

‘actions speak louder than words’

calls you love and it’s adorable, only in private, can’t let everyone know he’s softie...

but sometimes when you’re all eating he’ll lean over with a small whisper like, ‘you look tired, love’ or after training he will leave a hand out for you to grab as he helps you up and he smiles gently, ‘you did well, my love.’

praises you constantly, even the small stuff you do. every accomplishment is something worth celebrating!

sleepy voice !! deep mumbles !! little groans when he stretches !!

he also sleeps butt ass naked - and with no furs as a blanket, he gets too warm in his sleep. so you spend most your morning laying there with your eyes glued to his body - i mean … i don’t blame you.

but when winter comes this man will be your blanket. literally piling his full weight onto yours with his big arms wrapped around you like he’s scared to let you go.

sarcastic, dry humour. the type to made the random comment with such seriousness that it becomes funny.

‘vilkas can you help m-’ ‘no.’ *walks off*

‘this sword isn’t working?’ ‘maybe try swinging it.’

and it’s honestly really funny, especially with how he says it.

laughs at his own jokes, and laughs at others depending on the person. if he doesn’t like someone he’s like ‘that wasn’t even that funny’ while hiding the smirk as he holds back his laughter.

when he laughs he cries, watery eyes and bright red face as he holds his stomach and folds. (he’s probably laughing at the companions when they do something dumb..)

protective bf! very very protective!

if someone even looks at you the wrong way he starts cracking his wrists and knuckles, ready to throw hands.

he knows you’re capable, but as your boyfriend he is also then your own personal bodyguard. would definitely kick someone in the knees if they showed any disrespect towards you - same if they show too much adoration too.. he isn’t jealous though, definitely doesn’t get jealous. (sarcasm..)

he’s that sulky and quiet type of jealous, he looks pissed off all the time anyway but when he sees someone being a tad too close to you he’ll cross his arms against his chest and watch like a hawk with a ‘i’m either going to kill them or chop their limbs off’ - not being dramatic, he looks murderous.

but he doesn’t say anything, his mind is full of all sorts of words though. none are nice, they’re all horrible. he sometimes shocks himself.

if you like a brooding wolf with a romantic edge to him, he’s the one for you. he’s a delight. <3

[apocalypticgargoyle]

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

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[seung-scrittore]

[12:34] - fortune cookies and harry styles

genre: platonic!au, fluff, crack, best friend Ni-ki & Jungwon

warning(s): food/eating, light swearing

pairing: none

wc: 0.9k

“Love can last a lifetime if you want it to.”

“What does that even mean?” 

“Seriously, who writes that mumbo-jumbo anyway?”

“Honestly who cares,” you crinkled up the small paper between your index and thumb, flicking it toward the younger boy sitting on your couch. You watched as he flinched once it'd made contact with his jawline, afterward rolling his eyes at you. Not caring enough to even attempt to make sense of the tiresome momento inscribed inside your fortune cookie. 

Stuffing the semi-stale cookie past your lips, you shrugged off the topic. “Oh wait,” you half mumbled with your mouth still busy at work with the thin, crumbly treat, “‘Ave you guys ‘eard that song?” Most of your sentence was borderline unintelligible.

“Hasn’t anyone taught you table manners, yuck.” Ni-ki shot you an incredulous look as if you’d just offended him personally by not finishing your snack before speaking. 

“Manners, schmanners, y'know you could choke? Seriously, ___, you need to be more careful.” 

Of course, Jungwon, as always. 

“Well pardon me, your highnesses,” rolling your eyes at the imbeciles you were unfortunate enough to call your friends, “Anyway, like I was saying —before I was so rudely interrupted—”

“Have we heard that song?” Ni-ki mocked, his voice rising several octaves in jest, “I don’t even need to hear you say the name, it’s been everywhere I swear.”

Jungwon, who seemingly forgot about his sudden outburst of concern mere moments ago, piped up. “What song?” 

Sticking your chopsticks back into your carton of Chinese food —Pork Lo Mein to be specific— you shot him an exasperated look, “No way, you’ve really not heard it?”

“Maybe I have, if one of you idiots would just tell me the damn title I’d let you know”

Ni-ki snickered, setting his carton of fried rice down to nod his head toward Jungwon, “It makes sense he wouldn’t know, being ancient and all.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, slightly tilting your head down in a failed attempt to hide your amusement. Admittedly, a fair portion of your friendship with the two had been you and Ni-ki borderline-bullying Jungwon for being almost three years older than the both of you. 

Grabbing your phone out of your pocket, you swallowed the food that was in your mouth, opened up your playlist, and scrolled through to find the previously mentioned song. 

“Oh! Here, look Won,” you showed him your phone, the small letters playing in the bottom left of your screen, “As It Was, ugh, it’s such a good song.” 

“Oh, yeah I know it. All that hype for Harry Styles? Really?” 

“You did not just say that to me.” Ni-ki shot Jungwon a glance that let him know he was truly skating on thin ice here. 

“Listen, he’s good, I’ve just heard better y’know,” Jungwon noted somewhat matter-of-factly, collecting another bite of food with his utensils. He nodded toward Ni-ki, “I like his other single, uh, what’s it called?” Shaking his head, he stuffed the spoonful of now semi-cold Chinese food into his mouth, “Watermelon High, maybe?”

“It’s Watermelon Sugar, I’m actually disappointed. Of course, you would only know that song.” 

Over the years you had grown used to their quirks, though Jungwon not liking Harry Styles might’ve been a deal-breaker in your two-year-long friendship.

“I’m gonna tempt the fates here, Won, our whole friendship is riding on my fortune.”

Ni-ki held out his unwrapped golden fortune cookie, it was slightly crumpled at the corners, to the point you could see the stark contrast of the thinly tucked paper. 

The hard exterior of his cookie sounded with a stale crack, you could still faintly taste the vanilla and sesame oil on your tongue from your own. 

“Honestly you think they’d make them fresh or something for how often we go to that place,” you sarcastically chided, “I don’t quite feel valued as a customer.” 

“Oh cut the theatrics, both of you."

Ni-ki scoffed, "Hyung, I really don't think you wanna get mouthy while I'm literally unwrapping your fortune." 

If you said Jungwon was perfectly calm at Ni-ki's brazen nature, you would be lying. He was about two seconds from imploding, and you swore you could see steam coming out of his ears. 

"Go on, read it out." You had a tendency to always back Ni-ki up when it came to picking sides between the two, and if you were honest, you found this really amusing. 

Clearing his throat, —solely for theatrics— Ni-ki held the palm of his hand in his other,

 "He, who knows not of Harold Styles, is not to be trusted." 

Flicking his now crumpled slip of paper at you like you'd done to him moments ago.

"Yah, don't make me come over there Ri-ki," Jungwon pointed his spoon at Ni-ki in an almost threatening way —it would've held a lot more merit if you didn't already know Jungwon was considerably shorter than Ni-ki.

Chomping on another bite of your food, you made a mental note to tease Jungwon for that later, but right now he had enough on his plate with Ni-ki. 

"___, look he's threatening me!" Ni-ki feigned a fearful tone, if he was trying to hide his smile, he was doing a poor job at it. 

You scoffed, a slight grin adorning your features at their antics, unfolding the small paper that had fallen in your lap, you silently read the fortune— his actual fortune. 

"Good friends are worth the hardships you'll face to find them."

Looking up at Jungwon and Ni-ki, who were now bickering back and forth, your grin was in full effect. 

They are, they truly are.