#white floral accords

[y2kmtv]

[boop-le-snoot]

kinktober #2

Strange Candy

kinktober day two | aphrodisiac | 18+, cw: intoxicated sex (all consensual), female reader. both of them hella sassy, book-ish!thran because no angst in my house. this is very silly, just like the author. don't eat funny mushrooms you find in the forest! | wc 3,7k | want more kinktober? click here |

“Strange indeed.” Said the King thoughtfully. The group of hunters who'd led him to the newfound development traded a long look. Crouching down, the King's majesty eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead as he studied the newfound addition to his great Elven forest. “And the beasts have returned seemingly unharmed, you say?”

“Yes, my Lord. The bears had retreated into a den and so did the foxes, emerging approximately three days afterwards. All seemed in good health and very hungry.” The Silvan hunter replied.

“Then these must be harmless.” Deduced the King, taking out a thin blade to poke at a dense cluster of brightly coloured fungus.

At least, he guessed it was a fungus. Upending one cluster, he found no roots. The flesh of the mushroom was white and fragrant, pleasantly earthy and rich, with subtle floral undertones that made his mouth water slightly. The smell intensified tenfold upon cutting the mushroom down the middle. The King brought it closer to his nose, carefully scenting for any bitterness or rot.

“My Lord...” A concerned Feren piped up from his spot behind the King.

You offered the Captain a glance full of genuine compassion, without a doubt considering his job to be the most complicated and tedious in the whole of Thranduil's kingdom. Minding Greenwood's fiery monarch was not for the faint-hearted.

“Surely you are not thinking of putting it in your mouth?” You added a dash of sarcasm into your question, equally concerned.

You were sassed right back, eyeroll audible. “It is a mushroom, where else would I put it?” Thranduil straightened up, holding the newfound addition to the flora of the forest impaled on his knife. As soon as his eyes zeroed on you, you gulped. Thranduil gave you a nasty little grin. “What is the worst that could happen? I have the best healers of my realm at my disposal.”

Feren's fingers twitched, a tell-tale sign of his withering self-restraint. You sighed and contemplated the best time to begin backing away.

Thranduil simply raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge. “Worry not, the Kingdom has forgotten of your and Feren's...” Elegant pause, Feren's sigh. “Accident.”

“'twas no accident,” you said defensively. “You gave us your Ada's moonshine to see if it was still good. On purpose.”

Thranduil shrugged as the mushroom was evenly divided into two parts with the help of his knife. A perfect picture of innocence, he held up the treat in his palm, grey eyes sparkling.

“I am NOT doing it, my Lord!” Exploded Feren, and gave into his urge to take a step back. He, more than anyone, knew how insistent Thranduil could get. A seven-thousand year old elf giving huge puppy eyes! And it worked! The Captain shielded his own face with his palm. “Throw me in the dungeons for a fortnight, I care not!”

Contrary to your expectations, Thranduil simply rolled his eyes, and swiftly stuck one part of the colourful fungus in his mouth. Everyone gasped, including you, but the old Elvenking remained completely unbothered.

“Hm,” he blinked after a second. “That is not bad.”

Waves of impending doom washed over you with each contemplative movement of Thranduil's jaws. Looking first to the left, and then to the right, you found no immediate means exit of the situation. It was you, the resident human, and the tree behind you, which your King had no problem with crowding you against. Not that he moved or anything. He was just... Large. And very handsome. And spectacular at rounding his shiny, bottomless eyes with great purpose.

“We must know if this fungus is harmful to Edain,” he said, honey-sweet. You hated that he was right. “According to hunters, there is an abundance of it, and, knowing how curious you Edain are...”

“Ugh!” You shook your head. “Just give me the mushroom. If I die, I will haunt your halls for all eternity.” Obediently and with no small worry, you snatched the piece and stuck it in your mouth, chewing quickly, not even taking note of the taste.

Thranduil's last experiment that involved you and Feren still fresh on your mind, you turned back towards the Halls before you'd even finished chewing. You'd rather be in the privacy of your rooms least intoxication has you do something embarrassing... Again. Thankfully, the King conceded, and after giving the hunters a command to gather more of this mystery fungus, the party set out back home.

It was Feren's turn to offer you fleeting looks of compassion. You quietly smiled back, not feeling anything out of sorts. The ride back was pleasantly uneventful. Not a creature was stirring: even the ever-present spiders were absent in their bothersome scuttling.

Too smug for his own good, Thranduil entered his halls with a spring in his step. “The haunting of halls of Greenwood has been postponed indefinitely, I see,” he said in passing as he shrugged off his outer travel robes. A maid immediately offered him a silver robe of heavy satin which he politely declined. “Nay. The discovery has warmed me plenty.”

You noticed that yes, the weather has turned rather warm indeed and bowed before departing back to your daily business. Mid-way through your chores, a thin, translucent sheen of sweat glistened on your brow as you silently cursed the Vala responsible for such unusually pleasant weather. The Halls had already began to prepare for a long winter with covering unnecessary exits and patching up drafty areas.

What wouldn't you give for a gulp of fresh, cold air! Chores forgotten, you hurried to the nearest balcony. There was one not frequently visited by Elves as it was hidden behind a clever alcove; stepping aside and squeezing through the narrow opening, you sighed happily and deeply as your clammy skin finally felt crisp late night air.

Your shoulders dropped as you exhaled, finally shaking off some of that uncomfortable heat. A tranquil scene of swaying treetops and budding stars over a darkening sky emphasized the calamity of your solitude.

“Hm.”

“My Lord,” you greeted without turning, familiar with the timbre of voice and soft swishing of expensive fabric coming from behind you.

Thranduil's profile appeared within your field of view as he posted up next to you and demurely placed a hand over the stone railing of the balcony. “I was unaware someone had found the secret entrance to my private balcony.”

“Oh,” you froze. “I apologize... I was simply...”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “I take no offense. Indeed, it was quite clever. Even keen Elven eyes miss the opening behind the alcove.” Sans outer robe and clad in a simple but rich ensemble of sateen shirt and velvet breeches, it became evident you'd caught the King in a private moment of relaxation. His brow, usually tinted with concern with kingdom, was pleasantly warm.

You swallowed, looking away. He was a beauty even among his own kin, and like this - relaxed and comfortable - bordered on irresistible. A flash of heat spread through your body at the realisation. It took no small effort to squash these thoughts and steer them towards some semblance of propriety.

“The Valar have blessed us with good weather this autumn, my Lord. I was doing my chores and nearly felt faint from the heat.” You said, noticing Thranduil's eyebrows rise. “And the construction of your halls is incredible! Not a single drafty corner.”

“Heated, you say?” He interrupted suddenly, turning to face you fully. Etiquette (whenever you remembered it) dictated you should, too, and you two faced each other. Thranduil radiated curiosity, eyes lingering on your flushed cheeks and the warmth crawling down the neckline of your clothes. “Strange.”

“What is, my Lord?”

“I have said the same thing to Galion but he gave me a very pointed look and gestured towards Lady Anariel, who had been complaining to her maid about not lighting a fire in a timely manner.”

You frowned, too. The Lady Anariel was as Northern as Elves come and was fairly tolerant of wintery weather. When others wore furs, she got by with an outer dress of wool and, perhaps, a pair of gloves.

“Do you feel... Strange, my Lord?” You had a slight suspicion. Just a teeny-tiny one, that boiled down to those Eru-forsaken mushrooms.

In response you received an impish sort of shrug. “Not necessarily so. Do you?”

Your face blanched. Aside from suddenly finding him irresistible and feeling a little hot under the collar, nothing was amiss. But the longer you lingered on those two thoughts, the stronger they became. It was as if you were an adolescent again: barely any impulse control and all feeling.

‘twas a delicate situation. You could speak to a healer, of course, or let the strange circumstance run it's course. If it even could do that. Thoughts growing jumbled by the second, you said the only clear thing on your mind.

“Those cursed mushrooms.”

Thranduil was unperturbed. “I do not believe they are cursed. Potent, yes, but not cursed.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “... You too?”

He sighed. “I came out here in hopes of clearing my head from this fog of lust.” As you prepared to mutter- what, exactly? Apologies? - Thranduil's finger reached out for tour face to trace the curve of your jaw. “And in the process I found something much more exciting.”

Your bottom lip trembled. Such a simple gesture felt heavenly. Wherever his skin came in contact with yours, the heaviness receded briefly. Your breath caught in your chest as your heart picked up a hare's pace.

“Am I being propositioned?” You wished to say to yourself but in the fog, managed to sputter out loud.

“We could help each other out...” The King, unfurled to his full height and radiating heat equal to that you felt on the inside, grinned a crooked grin. It sat youthfully on his timeless features, just the right amount of flirtatious and reassuring.

You pretended to think about it. No, you really did, out of concern for your dignity. Throwing yourself onto the King was simply uncouth. Such was your next course of action, but the necessary amount of time had passed and the need, having been brought to the forefront or your mind, took hold of your sense. Slowly, you leaned into the touch and brought your hands to Thranduil's forearm, tilting his fingers to your mouth. Hot breath caused them to twitch.

“Does this answer your question?” You tilted your head, lips brushing against the multitude of rings he wore on his persona. It was most exhilarating to see his pupils widen and his mouth tremble.

Adam's apple bobbing, Thranduil swallowed. “No.” And smirked, the stunning bastard. “I need a clear, straightforward statement.”

You sighed, feigning annoyance. “I enthusiastically consent to having uncouth, untoward and potentially nasty things being done to my body by my Lord and King...”

You did not even get to finish. In a flash, Thranduil's hands had encircled your face and he bent himself over you, pushing your body into the balcony as he devoured your mouth with his. There was no grace and no finesse; something heavy and hard poking your stomach showed you just how much self-control your King had.

Seconds ago, you'd been having a perfectly normal conversation and now you found yourself airborne, having been unceremoniously picked up by the tall Elf and carried towards his chambers like the most coveted spoil of war while he devoured your mouth. You hummed into the kiss and responded with a groan, tearing the back lacing of your clothes clean off.

Your back connected with the mattress of his bed. Blinking at the rapid change of pace and scenery, you moaned out in frustration regarding your ruined clothes.

“I will commission more for you,” he said carelessly, throwing his own shirt Mordor knows where. His bare chest, chiseled with lithe muscle and pale as fresh milk, captivated your attention.

Previously having contended yourself with the occasional glance at the tiny window of bare skin where the sides of his robes met, you used your newfound opportunity to drink yourself full of Thranduil's fair skin. It felt as soft as it looked when he laid upon you, the weight of his body offering a delicious momentary reprieve from the tension building up in your muscles. Gossamer hair shielded you from the outside world as he leaned in towards your mouth again, this time capturing yours in a sensual dance of tongue and teeth.

A nimble hand took care of your bottoms, sliding inside your underwear as slick and cunning as a snake, to cup your mound. Thranduil groaned into the kiss, finding you soaked and willing, fingering the cleft of your lower lips with practiced gentle moves. The tenderness of it drove you crazy. Your need flared as a wall of standstill fire and you were surprised you did hadn't noticed it earlier. If the pulse in your cunt was anything to go by, you would come undone the very moment your King would finally allow you to feel full.

He was fairly content with sucking your soul out through your mouth and mapping the fat outer lips of your cunt. Never quite breaching and wholly avoiding your throbbing pearl, Thranduil simply basked in the amount of sticky juice your cunt was capable of producing.

The first loud moan of the night broke free if your lips and it was one of frustration.

Thranduil smiled into the kiss, your teeth clashing together. “What is it, mm?” He queried in-between wet pecks.

“I want to come.” You whined.

He chuckled. “And what's in it for me?”

Thankfully, your eyes were closed and he did not see your eyeroll. “You'll get to come, too?” Cringing at how lame it sounded, you were nonetheless powerless beneath him and overwhelmed from your desire.

“I prefer to play with my food.” He grinned a predator's smile, all shiny teeth and lidded eyes, but tugged down on your bottoms nonetheless. “Try harder.”

That became difficult as you were now bare; shivering in your King's arms, you cracked open a hazy eye to see him settle himself closer to your dripping center. It captivated him. Sliding two fingers along your lips, your eyes closed and head fell back as every nerve in your body came alight. Rewarded by a long moan, Thranduil gathered ample amount of moisture on his fingers and brushed over your quivering entrance.

Your back arched as he plunged them deeply within your aching cunt. The sticky noise it made was positively scandalous.

“I will-ah! forgive you for gathering the entire -ahh! King's guard to look at Feren and I!” You managed to form a quasi-coherent sentence through the moans and gasps spilling from your lips and were rather proud of yourself for it.

Thranduil's laugh echoed in the room as it did in his chest, a pleasant rumble vibrating through your core. “Whether Galion forgives you two for barking at him remains to be seen.”

Genuine amusement briefly overshadowed your shame at the situation of the past and at your own current neediness. The combination of emotion startled a laugh out of you, causing your core to clench around Thranduil's fingers and coat them in your wetness. He groaned low in his throat and rubbed your inner walls, reveling in the resulting moan. It did nothing to bring you closer to the peak.

“Sadist!” You accused and attempted to grind down on his hand, fisting the crumpled sheets.

“Slander!” He punctuated the rebuttal with an expert curl of his fingers. You arched. He smirked. “You should learn patience.”

There was no strength in your mind to formulate another witty comeback. Sensation, low and insistent, built up in the pit of your belly, an ache so sweet and tender you were sure it would be any second that you'd burst with it. Every pore on your skin open and receptive to touch, even the slide of silk sheets as your body bent with pleasure was overwhelming. You panted wetly through parted lips as a third finger joined in, the stretch of it making your eyes roll back into your head.

Thranduil would kill you. You were sure of it now. He would end you with a blinding smile and clever fingers never ceasing to move within you, the movement just shy of where you needed him most.

“Mercy!” You moaned. “Mercy, my King!”

You should have known his idea of it would be no less torturous than the ‘kindness’ that led you to your current place writhing atop his bed. Slowly, his tongue traced a path around your outer lips before dipping inside; it was hot and wet, like a summer storm, when it connected with your engorged clit and flicked it from root to tip. Electric feel of sensation pierced your body in a lightning bolt as your leg muscles seized. The King gave a pleased rumble and went for seconds and thirds, effortlessly holding your thighs open with one strong, long arm, palm digging into the soft meat.

Even the pain of it echoed with pleasure.

While the need within your loins kept steadily climbing with no end in sight, your King treated himself to a leisurely late night snack. His tongue delved in and out of your cunt, lapping up the waterfall of arousal. You would have been mortified, really, for the mess had you glued stuck to his face, your hips attempting to follow his mouth in circles.

Coupled with the digits slowly but surely stretching the entrance to your channel, brushing over the sensitive fornix, you knew the night would be long. Dark, but not cold. Hazy.

“Ngh!” You articulated through gritted teeth, feeling him pull away from a particularly sensitive spot in favour of sucking a bruise onto your inner thigh. Thranduil followed a path only he himself knew, marking your flesh with pulling, precise bites that left discoloured spot damp with spit. They pleasantly ached.

Over your stomach and at the underside of your bottom rib. The sides and bottoms of your breasts, all the way up at the root of your nipples. He took each one in into his mouth, suckling on it like a hungry babe, before releasing them with a wet pop just blow a gentle breath onto the pebbled nubs. Through parted lashes, you watched him, aptly fascinated by the lack of colour in his eyes, pupils blown wide and deep with lust.

You tasted your cunt on his tongue as he made way back up. Risking a glance downward, you saw Thranduil's cock hard, flushed and heavy, hanging out of his breeches. He hadn't bothered with removing them and that single detail had you nearly undone. How the King himself could not wait to he inside of you!

An understanding of his previous games had come too, for he was rather proportional everywhere. Just the slide of his weeping tip against your bruised thigh invoked a shudder in you, back arching. You presented yourself to your best ability, eyes shining with pleading as he rested his forehead against yours.

Thranduil held himself above you, weight on his elbows, as his cock nosed at your sopping entrance. Immediately, it tried to suck him in, coaxing his lips to bend into a smirk. Such proximity was putting your sensibility directly into negatives. With a wild look mirrored in his own darkened pupils, you petulantly stuck out your bottom lip and panted with all the sarcasm that you could muster:

“we'll get to the good part... About tomorrow?” You wished to add more, something about him being old, but that remark and many more drowned in the absolute extasy flooding your body as he slid into your cunt in one single smooth stroke. “Aah...” Left your lips instead, and with it, any remaining oxygen departed from your lungs as well.

“Mouthy,” Thranduil remarked, sounding unfairly put together for someone who's mouth was as slippery as wet stone and cheeks brighter than a ripe beetroot.

You forgave him then and there. In awe, you watched him give you another one of his impish grins and nudge at that spot deeply within you. And he did it all over again, plush mouth releasing the sweetest, quietest of moans as he did so. Time got lost in the tug of war tour cunt played with his cock; like this, your release was imminent and fast approaching.

You grabbed Thranduil's arms, rubbed his shoulders as your legs wound up around his narrow waist while he contentedly and systematically unraveled you apart with rapid, smooth snaps of his hips. For a while, there was nothing in the room but the two of you and the lewd noises of damp skin slapping against skin. Clutching harder, you felt yourself tighten around his girth. Each measured stroke abused your engorged clit, heavy sac adding extra sensation on your perineum.

A low, feral groan joined the thrilling cacophony of sex. Thranduil fucked you through your first orgasm with gritted teeth, barely slowing with the new resistance of your cunt attempting to milk him for his worth. Hair hanging over your faces like a curtain, he claimed your lips in a searing kiss as you whimpered with overstimulation. Evenly, his thrusts became shallow, grinding.

Having become a acquainted with your bearings somewhat, you made a confused noise. The King just grinned. His palm connected firmly with the side of your hip as you squealed. He withdrew.

“Present yourself to your King.” He ordered, both smug and slightly breathless, helping you along onto all fours.

You chuffed into the damp bedding and obeyed, arching your back at a sinful curve. Within seconds, you were once again blissfully full.

a/n: I am way too horny of a person to write anything LACE compliant. Or is that my commitment issues talking? Anyway, ELVES FUCK SEVERELY! At least this October. mwah 💋

I once ate like 12 grams of cubensis and was a cat for 3 hours, so Feren barking at Galion with the help of some 3k+ year old mushroom infused moonshine isn't that far-fetched.

[jintaka-hane]

@walmartmihawk!! I did it!!! You have no idea how much fun it was writing this for you!

Ladies and gentlemen! Come get a ride with our favourite FIRST MATE!

A TRIP TO THE ONSEN

Masterlist

Img source / Img source

Summary: Your crew convinces you to join them for a relaxing trip to an onsen. When you arrive, you find out the women’s section is closed due to maintenance issues, and you're forced to use the men’s area as a mixed bath. What could possibly go wrong? Word Count: 2800 Notes: Beckman x f!Reader, forced proximity, nudity but not very explicit, Reader is shy, Beckman is a gentleman, Red haired pirates are assholes XD

As you stepped into the men's changing room, you considered turning around and walking right back out the way you came. 

The place couldn’t be more different from the clean, orderly women’s changing area, with its wicker baskets arranged in perfect harmony on symmetrical shelves, and its pristinely rolled, white towels ready for use. No, the room you found yourself in, thanks to the sign that read, due to a facilities issue, we kindly ask you to use the men’s pool as a shared space, was a far cry from that. 

The clothing of the current occupants—your crew—was strewn across the room in a careless mess, distinguished only by loosely categorized piles according to ownership. Each pile was a disaster of  balled-up t-shirts, trousers with one leg inside out, and a pair of used boxers, briefs, or trunks, perched proudly on top.  You let out a heavy sigh, recognizing your captain’s floral trousers, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the first mate’s cloak.

Were you really prepared to share an enclosed space with your crew members, as they had been brought into the world? The answer was a resounding NO. But the thought of sinking your body, aching after so many nights sleeping in a hammock, into the soothing waters of the onsen was too tempting to resist. Besides, you had an infallible plan. Slip in quietly, draw no attention, and position yourself as far away from them as possible.

You wrapped the largest towel you could find around your naked body, then placed your hands on the swinging doors that led to the pool. With your eyes closed, you took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and pushed the doors open... only to come face-to-face with Yasopp’s ass as he sank into the steaming, shimmering waters.

The mere sight of the sniper’s bare backside left you blushing, so you marched forward in long strides, avoiding any eye contact, carefully stepping around the towels your crewmates had scattered along the wooden edge of the pool.

“Hey! You made it after all!” Shanks called out with his forearms rested on the edge of the pool to get a better look at you.

“Yes...” you mumbled, clutching tightly at your towel and rushing past him as quickly as you could. Beckman wasn’t far away and greeted you with a slight, elegant nod, a gesture you shyly returned.

When you reached the farthest side of the pool, –and definitely not the prettiest, with a large pipe in plain sight on one of the walls—you sat down carefully on the edge making sure your towel wouldn’t betray you at the worst moment. With a calculated move, you let the towel fall onto the wooden floor, and quickly slipped into the pool.

The moment the mineral-rich water touched your skin you felt relief wash over your sore muscles. You dipped your head beneath the surface, letting the hot water relax your face and scalp, and as you emerged you opened your eyes, only to find your entire crew staring at you. A flush crept up your cheeks at the attention, so you discreetly turned away, lifting your arms out of the water to rub them as if you were busy cleaning.

"Roo, stop staring at me," you shot, picking a random scapegoat as you felt all the men’s eyes glued to your bare back. Beckman was quick to react, giving the cook a good smack upside the head, splashing water on a few of the nearby crewmates.

“Ow!”

"Stop looking at her," his deep voice commanded, stern and reprimanding. "And you too," he added, smacking Limejuice on the back of the head too.

"Huh? Punch is doin' it too!" the long-haired blonde complained, pointing an accusing finger at his larger friend.

Shanks chuckled heartily and leaned in toward the first mate, speaking in a low voice, “Come on, Beck, give them a break. Don’t tell me you didn’t take a peek yourself.”

The first mate turned his back to you so you couldn’t see, then flashed a cheeky grin and mouthed, 'I did,' causing the rest of the crew to crack up.

For the next few minutes, they left you alone, allowing you to settle into the little haven of peace you’d created at the far corner of the pool. You focused on your own relaxation, letting the warmth of the water soothe your body.

“Oi” Yassop’s voice broke through the peaceful silence. “The owner said there’s a cold pool next door, and a bar close by. Who’s up for checkin’ it out?”

Everyone but Beckman nodded, and they began to climb out of the water, offering you the rather embarrassing sight of a row of bare backsides as they completely ignored the towels waiting for them. You dipped your head under the water again, staying submerged until they had all left, which they thankfully did quickly — as they always did when a bar was involved — sparing yourself from having to choose between a death of embarrassment or by drowning.

"How’re you doing, darlin’?" you heard the first mate’s warm, baritone voice the moment your head broke the surface of the water.

His back was pressed against the side of the pool, arms casually draped over the edge. You noticed how his broad shoulders lifted just a touch, strained with the position. His wet, silver hair was tied back in a loose, low ponytail, and beads of water trickled down his neck. You swallowed hard, silently grateful for the distance between you, knowing that your nerves wouldn’t handle being too close to him. 

“Fine,” you replied shyly, sliding into the water until it reached your chin. 

Beckman opened his mouth to say something more but then shut it, his sharp eyes narrowing as they shifted from your gaze to a point behind you. You heard a faint hiss of pressure at your back and turned, realizing that the massive pipe protruding from the wall was vibrating slightly.

“Darlin’, something’s not right…”

“What—” you turned to look at him. His body was tense and alert, the water now at his waist.

The pool’s swinging doors burst open, and the onsen’s owner rushed in, wearing a mask of panic as his hands clutched his head. 

"THE PIIIIPE!!! It’s going to explode!!!" he shouted, clawing at his face. "You, the strong one!" his finger pointed at your startled first mate. "Try to contain it until I can close the valve! The water’s extremely hot, and if it blows, you’ll be scalded!!"

And with that, he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

Beckman, a competent man used to urgent commands, sprang into action without a second thought. He pushed off from the edge of the pool, water splashing everywhere, and grabbed his towel tying it in a loose knot around his waist. Then he raced toward the massive pipe behind you while you stared in shock, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, unable to react to the sight of the first mate, sprinting half-naked toward you.

When he reached the pipe, he felt it with his hands, locating the exact point where a joint was giving way, and pressed on it, straining with all his might to hold back the increasingly vibrating pipe.

“Shit, shit, shit…” he muttered to himself, bending slightly to apply more pressure with both hands. He lowered his head, mumbling incomprehensible words until a perfectly clear “FUCK” reached your ears.

“What? What’s going on, Becks?” From where you stood, all you could see was his wet back, taut with the effort. 

“Darlin’… I’m afraid I’m going to need your help here.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else. You always followed your first mate’s orders, no matter how peculiar or awkward the situation. So putting aside your shyness, you scrambled out of the pool, knotted your towel tightly at your chest, and rushed to help him.

“Where do I need to press?” you asked as you moved closer, trying to ignore the striking muscles of his lower back peeking out from his towel.

“Right at my waist.” 

“W-what?” your voice sounded a bit higher-pitched than usual.

“My towel…” he explained as calmly as he could, “it’s slipping, and I can’t let go of the pipe. You’ve got to hold it for me.”

“O-okay,” you lifted one hand, reluctantly, and extended your index finger to press it against the towel on one side of his adonis belt.

“Darlin’, it’s slipping on the other side too…”

“...Okay,” you repeated as you robotically moved your other hand to the other side of his hip, your face so close to his back that your nose nearly brushed against his defined shoulder blades.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” you lifted your chin to fix your gaze on the ceiling.

You hadn’t been in that position long when you heard him curse again, his hips shifting under your hands, tense and nervous.

“I think there’s another loose joint,” his rough, deep voice said. “Let me check…” He crouched down, arching his wardrobe-like back, and you stepped back to avoid bumping into him. “Yeah, damn… there’s another leak. Darlin’, you’re gonna need to help me contain it.”

“How?” your voice quivered.

“Get in front of me, hold the pipe where I tell you with one hand, and keep my towel in place with the other.”

“Okay…”

You let go of one side of his towel and moved to his side, waiting for instructions. He looked at you with his eyes framed by those characteristic deep lines, and with a nod, he motioned for you to tuck your head between his arms. You complied, wedging yourself between his massive body and the pipe, your back practically touching his chest.

“Right there,” he instructed with a tilt of his chin. 

You placed one hand where he directed, and pressed firmly.

“Now the towel.” 

Keeping an eye on the pipe, you awkwardly fumbled at the lower part of his abdomen, trying to find the edge of his towel. Not finding it easily, you turned your head towards him, coming face-to-chest again with his massive, muscular frame. Your cheeks flamed red as you felt his stomach tighten under your hands, your fingertips tracing the line of his happy trail until you finally found the towel.

Beckman knew you were a very shy person, and at that moment, he felt an intense wave of guilt for putting you in such a compromising position. 

“Darlin’, I am so sorry ab—”

“—Beck,” you interrupted, noticing the pipe shaking and dripping dangerously from the other side. “I think I need to use my other hand to hold the pipe on that side too…”

He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before nodding.

“Alright… do you think you can hold my towel with your knee?”

“... I-I’ll give it a try.”

You released his towel and turned so that your body faced his. Then, you extended your arm as far as you could to cover the new leak, successfully sealing it. Feeling proud that you had managed to control the situation, you lifted your leg—perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm—toward the first mate’s groin.

“Hey,” he chided, jumping slightly in surprise at the speed of your approaching knee. “Just… be careful.”

“Sorry,” you slowed the movement, pressing your knee gently against the towel just below his navel.

Seconds stretched into eternity in that position.

Beckman, in an attempt to be as polite as possible, turned his face away to give you some space, exposing his X-shaped scar to you. The situation was extremely uncomfortable and awkward, but you both were convinced that any moment now the onsen owner would come and tell you he had managed to close the valve.

But of course, anything that can worsen, will. So barely a couple of minutes had passed, when you heard Beckman curse again, his body twisting and his arms trembling.

“Darlin'...” His gray eyes locked onto yours.

“Huh?” 

“The pipe... ah, damn,” he grunted, shaking his elbows frantically but still gripping the pipe, large beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. “It’s too hot. I—I can’t keep holding it. It’s burning my skin.”

Your lips parted in alarm.

“What do we do, Beck?”

“I’ve got an idea… “ He cleared his throat. "take my towel off, so I can use it between the pipe and my hands.”

“What?! No, Beck…” You felt your pulse quicken.

“Got a better idea?” he asked, his tone urgent but calm, his eyes flicking quickly to the knot of your towel at your chest. You followed his gaze, then looked back at him. 

“Oh, NO. No, no, no—”

“My towel, then,” he insisted.

You swallowed hard, and removing one hand from the pipe, nervously traced the edge of his towel until you found a corner to tug on.

“Sorry,” you whispered, causing him to let out a laugh that rumbled through his chest.

“Oh, I'd way rather have you see me naked than lose my hands, Doll”.

You forced a shy smile onto your lips and, with your eyes fixed straight ahead, gave the towel a quick yank to pull it free.

"Alright," he said with endless patience, "now you're gonna need to crouch down a bit to get it around my hands."

This time, the smile didn’t come.

You simply gave a curt nod, squeezed your eyes shut, and crouched down, feeling him step back to give you space. After you helped him protect his hands, you straightened up as fast as you could, extending your arm to cover the pipe again, avoiding letting your peripheral vision wander too far downward.

And so, there you were, standing directly in front of your bare and broad-shouldered first mate, arms outstretched, each hand firmly gripping a pipe. 

“Could be worse, you know…” Beckman grinned, trying to joke as he noticed the sweat beginning to form on your brow.

"How?" 

"We could be dealing with sewage."

You weren’t sure if you were about to faint or burst into a nervous, hysterical laugh. You didn’t get the chance to figure it out either, because at that moment, you felt the knot of your towel begin to loosen around your chest.

"Oh, Beck..." you groaned, your voice shaky and weak. "I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I—"

“What’s wrong, Darlin’?” His eyes darted between yours.

“My towel… the knot… I don’t know what to do, I-I can’t…” you said, tears threatening to spill over. 

Beckman couldn’t stand to see you suffering. As first mate, his duty was to protect and care for the entire crew, and the sight of your doe-like eyes full of desperation broke his huge heart. So without asking for permission or thinking twice, he did the first and only thing that came to mind. He shut his eyes and buried his head in your cleavage, growling as he gripped the knot of your towel with his teeth just as it was about to come undone.

You stood there, frozen, blinking several times as you tried to process what was happening. And just at that precise and convenient moment, you heard a group of familiar male voices cheerfully making their way back.

The doors swung open and the room fell into a sepulchral silence.

Your heart started thudding in your chest, and your blood rushed to your temples, your face turning a fiery deep red as you couldn’t contain your embarrassment.

"Well, well, Beck…" you recognized the unmistakable mocking voice of your captain, singing out with a teasing grin. "So you wanted her all to yourself, huh?'"

Beckman grumbled against your chest, and when you looked down, you saw that his ears were even redder than your own flushed cheeks, the contrast with his pearl earrings making them stand out even more.

A smile started to tug at your lips, and it quickly transformed into hearty, uncontrollable laughter at the thought that, for once in your life, you weren't the most flushed person in the room.

..........................................................................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita <3

[supernatural-bias]

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥

↳ summary: everyone knew you loved your lazy sundays. but that didn't stop them from bothering you

↳ warnings: mentions of fights and ponyboy getting jumped. nothing serious

↳ notes: could be interpreted as platonic or romantic with whoever you like. just some silly times

↳ song: we're gonna move—elvis presley

masterlist | commissions | carrd

Sundays at the Curtis household were normally calm.

Maybe it was because that was the day before school would start up again for Ponyboy— it used to be that way for both him and Sodapop until his big brother dropped out —or maybe it was because that was the lords day; at least according to the bible. Whatever the case, you knew you could always rely on an unlocked door and comfy couch awaiting you each time you jumped the chain link fence in their front yard. Just as long as it was Sunday.

So, understandably, you were peeved when Steve Randal and Two-Bit had come bursting through the front door looking for a fight.

"Come on man!" Two-Bit, otherwise known as Keith Matthews by his mother and kid sister, but only by his mother and kid sister, was currently whining your name in a way that he would only do if he wanted something. "Those soc's deserve it for what they did to Pony yesterday!"

Warm sunlight from the clear afternoon day peaked through the window panes behind you, lighting up each and every crevice in the front room of the house. A great black and white picture show was running on the TV, the likes of which had captured your attention for most of the day as you lay on Darry Curtis' couch, only ever moving to help out with chores when asked by him or Soda.

You scowled from your spot on that same trashy floral couch as before, flipping Two-Bit off quick enough so that Darry didn't see you. Even though he was in the other room working on dishes with Soda, you knew he would be able to tell. He was magic in a way like that. Annoyingly magic.

"What's with the shake up?" Steve questioned through the cigarette in his mouth, looking down at you from his nose. "Just last week you were itching for a rumble, and now all you want to do is sit and watch TV like some bum?"

"Wrong. Now all I want to do is sit on the couch and watch cartoons like some bum." You corrected him with a bit of snark in your tone, knowing that he hated that sort of thing. You saw Two-Bit's lips quirk up in a smile from the corner of your eye, reminding you temporarily of the shared love of cartoons that the two of you held.

"It's Sunday." Soda strolled in from the other room with a damp rag in his hands, tossing it down on the couch cushions as he went to clap Steve on the back—the way he always did when he saw his best friend. "You know they like their Sundays, guys."

"Screw their Sundays." Steve scoffed without any real malice behind the action. "Dally's on his way over with Johnny right now to meet us before the fight. We just wanted to come and get you before they got here."

With a halfhearted groan you let your head hit the back of the couch. If Dallas was coming over, you knew that the gangs minds had already been made up. Dally could be awfully convincing when he wanted to get his way, and that was more often than not. Really there was no sense in arguing now, but sometimes you had less sense then you'd like to admit.

"I'll tell Darry ya'll are gonna start up a fight." You said in a last ditch effort to keep your lovely spot on the warm couch. You were just met with knowing smiles.

"Awh you know he'd let us go if we promised to not get anymore blood on his floor comin' home." Two-Bit's smile widened, and you knew that he could tell they'd worn you down. That's how it always went when they wanted to fight during an off day for you, and you should be more used to it by now.

With the beginnings of a slow chew on your bottom lip, you mulled it over. Despite what one could think about Darry, that he yelled at his brothers too much or was too hard on Pony, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to get into a fight of his own for one of his brothers, even if he had work the next day. And that was a stone cold fact.

The screen door to the Curtis home squeaked open for the second time in just a few minutes, the entrance giving way to two more figures in dark clothing and greased up hair. One was nursing a cigarette butt while the other swayed side to side in a nervous tick.

"Ready to split?" Dallas Winston let a puff of smoke escape his lips as he grinned, looking around at the small group that had gathered in the living room. Johnny Cade shuffled behind him, and despite the current situation, you made time to send a welcome wave in his direction. He nodded back with a light glint in his eyes.

"Most of us." Soda laughed at Dally's question, ratting you out with a single look in your direction.

"I swear to god man, we do this every time." Dally shook his head as if he'd been expecting this. He looked at you dead on, almost as if trying to pry an explanation out of you this time. You resisted the urge to scrunch your nose up as he did so.

"Don't worry Dal, we just got 'em on the fence." Two-Bit smiled, and you hated that he was right.

With a sigh, you dusted your lap off before getting up, ignoring the small cheer that came from Soda and Two-Bit as you did so. From behind them Johnny smiled that little smile of his.

Dally even let a small one of his own slip, and you cursed whoever decided to give him such long eyelashes. One wrong downward tilt of his head, and sometimes you felt like he could get you to do whatever he wanted if he just asked.

"I'm coming, but next Sunday if any of you so much as ask me into town, I'll start a fight of my own." You pursed your lips. Another cheer rose between the six of you, and somehow you just knew that next week the exact same thing would happen, just as it always did. Good thing it never really bothered you. Nothing these guys ever do would, even though you'd never admit it to them.

"And just to be clear I want you to know I'm only going because it was Pony that was jumped!" You raised your voice through the pre-celebration, trying to stop the smile breaking out across your face from growing any wider. "If it was any of you idiots, I'd go join the other side!"

Playful boo's broke out as Soda slung an arm around your shoulders. A hand was quick to fly up to your hair with an attempted noogie, but you shook your head wildly enough to hault it.

Leaving the security of the plush couch and the drone of the Curtis' TV, you found yourself walking down the street with Dally's cigarette between your lips, taking a puff of it before handing it back to him. As the white smoke drifted up into the blue sky above, you thought about the people around you, and smiled.

Now you just had to hope you wouldn't ruin yet another shirt with blood.

[blushcoloreddreams]

Your guide to perfume layering

1. Simmilar + similar

To highlight a note of your preference combine two fragrances that have it present in their olfactory pyramid. This won’t change the scent much just amplify it your favorite aspects of it. Example: Bianco latte with vanilla 28, two vanilla fragrances (although the first one is a lighter fluffy vanilla and the other a darker boozy vanilla) or Bianco latte with Dama Bianca (my personal favorite combo) to create the perfect sweet and delicate vanilla . Or if you want something with rose + rose you can combine Delina with Delina exclusif of Delina with Roses vanille or even Delina with intense cafe since they all have that rose accord.

2. Complex + simple

I have two types of simple perfumes that work well for anything. The first being “simple” straightforward vanilla scents like Bianco latte to add a touch of sweetness to another type of fragrance like wood, ouds, and florals. This really helps with exploring other types of fragrances and slowly leaving your comfort zone. I talk about Bianco latte a lot since it’s one that I feel can wear everyday just rotating what I’ll combine with it. If you want other vanilla suggestions here’s a little list: Vanilla 28 (this one was actually created to be layered with other Kayali fragrances), commodity milk, vanilla skin, vanilla bourbon, Madagascar vanilla, Dulce, cloud, happy dust and tihota). Another type of scent that I use to layer with everything is a “second skin” scent like a simple clean musk scent like dedcool milk, white rice, glossier you, not a perfume, Rosie, l’eau papier, 11 11. This will add a background of cleanliness to whatever other scent you are wearing. If a fragrance has two notes you detect well like you can choose one aspect to enhance. Example cherry and oud like in “invite only” by Kayali I can mix it with love fest burning cherry to accentuate the cherry or amplify the oud by adding oud for greatness

4. Minimize what you don’t care for

For example, if you live in a hotter climate and you think it’s not appropriate to wear that sweet perfume you can add something citrus forward to give it a bit of tanginess and balance it out. I do this with one of my favorite combos La vie est belle l’eclat and CK IN 2 U

3. Layer well known acords

If you want to be really artsy and act like a perfumer you can layer perfumes that are common in accords

Examples

Fruity + floral

Floral + fresh

Saffron + leather

Rose + lychee

Green + citrus

Mossy + citrus

Tea + lactonic

Lactonic + coffee

Final tip: I find it easier to layer fragrances that are simpler or designer fragrances because they are blended together to be simple enough where you can understand them where niche fragrances can sometimes have so much going on that is hard to classify on a simple category and it’s easy to make them clash with something making them harder to layer.

[minjoongism]

so ateez released some multi-use fragrance oils exclusively to japan recently, each one customised for each individual member. although i can't get my hands on them just yet, i do have access to their scent profiles, so for anyone else who's desperately curious about what they might smell like, i've attempted to describe them all below!

fragrance terms for reference:

top notes: the initial scents smelled on application - usually the lightest/sharpest scents used (e.g. citrus or super powdery/light floral scents);

middle notes: the scents that appear once the top notes have faded - generally considered the central core or heart of a fragrance. they're usually fuller/smoother than top notes (e.g. cinnamon/spices or fuller floral scents like jasmine);

base notes: the scents that form the foundational structure of a fragrance, underpinning the top and middle notes and generally being the most long-lived scents that linger after application (usually woody scents, or musks);

accords: blends of notes that form the character profile of a perfume (e.g. woody or floral). they're the text in coloured bubbles in the images below the cut.

some general impressions:

yeosang & wooyoung seem to have the most overtly masculine-smelling oils.

seonghwa & san seem to have the most traditionally feminine-smelling oils.

hongjoong, yunho, mingi, and jongho all seem to have relatively gender-neutral scents. yunho's might lean the most masculine of the four, but all four are fairly ubiquitously pleasing.

all of them are Very Fitting imo!! whoever put these scent profiles together did a really good job of capturing the essence of each of the guys.

individual oils are under the cut because there are 8 of them:

hongjoong:

hongjoong's oil's scent profile sounds to me like it'd smell like the air after warm spring rain, a fresh forest, and home. the top notes mix orange-citrus with herby scents to create a fresh initial scent. i don't know if this is the case for everyone, but for me, if mint is a top note, it immediately becomes the most dominant scent in the whole thing (with a few small exceptions).

hongjoong's whole scent is pretty light! i mention a lot of headiness in a lot of the others, but for the most part, hongjoong lacks it. jasmine, magnolia, and amber provide the brunt of any robustness in this oil, but white musk is a cleaner, lighter alternative to musk, lacking that deep, animalic base and instead being something softer and more powdery. olibanum is somewhat lemony, while still being green and herby in scent, with a touch of pepperiness and woodiness that blends nicely into the sandalwood, which has a light, green initial top note that then melts into something creamy, rich, and deep-woody.

tl;dr - largely minty/herby, with a citrusy undertone that melts into a nice, rich woodiness towards the end. comforting is definitely right here - it's relaxing, not particularly overpowering or overly intoxicating like some of the other oils :)

seonghwa:

as i said to @starseongs a few days ago, this scent profile gives sensual, in control femininity, which i absolutely LOVE for him, but it isn't delicate by any means - it's got the strength of a more masculine scent, with plenty of animalic notes from the top all the way to the base that are offset by sharper, fresher notes to prevent it from becoming too cloying.

orange blossom in the top note is already overwhelmingly complex - it's sweet, and heady, and a touch soapy at times. it's not too far apart from the scent of jasmine, if that's more familiar, to get an idea of the sort of animalic, almost musky sweetness of orange blossom. a cassis top note is also super interesting - it's shades of musk (again) and tonka, which is sort of a blend of vanilla and nutty almond, but mossier and less intense. lily is also pretty solid, but waxy and spicy, a little soapy like orange blossom with a hint of honey. it's very common in feminine scents, often a mid or incredibly strong top note.

in the mid notes, rose and blackberry add delicacy and bite respectively, offsetting the incredibly powerful, heady top notes. peony complements rose well, commonly featuring alongside it in perfumes. and the musk-amber-cedarwood base note combo... amber and musk is classic dark sensuality.

if i had to guess, the orange blossom-cassis-blackberry-rose combo probably makes this a pretty fruity, pink-red scent with a heady undertone provided by the powerful base notes (aka delicious <3)

yunho:

like i said in hongjoong's, if mint is a top note, it immediately becomes the most dominant scent in the whole thing - with a few exceptions. eucalyptus is one of those exceptions, and so is mandarin. eucalyptus has a herby, waxy, lemony sort of smell to it to me, and this, combined with the mandarin orange, contributes a very citrusy top note. mandarin orange is usually particularly potent, so i wouldn't be surprised if this was very heavily orangey at first smell.

ylang-ylang is another heady, sweet, almost custard-like, honeyed smell that pairs well with the lemony green of geranium, which in turn has a floral aside that blends nicely with lavender. rosemary is a note that tends to add depth to perfumes and scented oils due to its woody spiciness, cleaning up the syrup of ylang-ylang and reinforcing the tangy top notes.

anise is warm, smoky-sweet, and a touch liquorice-y. it pairs well with musk, which is another warm, very earthy, heavily animalic scent - masculine and strong, providing a strong and lingering foundation.

overall, this scent profile is veeeeery clean. professional. it has a light, herby, citrusy brightness that hides a spicy animal musk, fresh bite that gives way to a warm and heady animalism.

yeosang:

interestingly, other than wooyoung's, yeosang's is the most overtly masculine scent. thyme, cardamom, oakmoss, vetiver - these are all very masculine notes.

thyme, pink pepper, and cardamom create a warm, spicy, almost leathery (thanks to the thyme) top note. cypress pairs well with these, offering a freshness and elegance that complements the spiciness well.

the lavender and geranium middle notes complement one another well - they're typically associated with calm and soothing, but with a kick provided by the geranium, which is a blend of herb, citrus, and fruity floral. a lot of people see it as similar to rose in terms of scent, but with an extra lemony, herby twist that balances it out and masculinises it in comparison.

oakmoss is... well it's mossy. it's an earthy scent that carries notes of musk and amber, and acts well to both prolong and fix scents and also balance out spicier, sharper notes, lending itself to sophistication and refinement. this blends well with the lemony-green olibanum.

vetiver is another earthy, woody scent that is very popular in masculine perfumes / colognes and very associated with masculinity in scent, though it can show up in unisex scents to provide an extra robustness. the undertones of leather and smoke in vetiver are what separates it from other common woody/earthy scents and what also makes it go well with cedarwood, which has a hint of natural smokiness. think bikers and a hint of cigarettes for vetiver.

tl;dr: HEAVILY masculine, musky smell for yeosang, with touches of wood, spice, and smoke that give it an extra warmth and bite, and a greenness from the oakmoss that refines it and adds sophistication and freshness.

san:

the only vanilla accord!! very similar to seonghwa's in terms of accords, but swapping amber for vanilla sweetens and softens the overall profile.

SUPER fruity scent. pear, peach, and ambrette seed in the top notes all have super fruity scents, with ambrette seed also containing notes of pear in it. the top note profile is full and sweet, with an extra apricot-y woodiness from the ambrette seed. very yummy. rose and jasmine in the middle notes add to the sweetness further, with rose providing the same floral delicacy as in seonghwa's and jasmine adding a sort of heady sweetness similar to the orange blossom also in seonghwa's. cedarwood deepens the woodiness first scented in the ambrette seed, adding a warmth and a spice to deepen the profile.

cashmere wood is getting its own bullet point because :( it's one of my favourite notes in perfumes / scented oils. one of my favourite cashmere wood descriptions is one i saw a while ago that said it smells like warm, bronze, sunkissed skin in summer :( if that doesn't make you think of san i don't know what will!! it's often got touches of vanilla in it, which blends nicely into the vanilla and cacao in the base notes.

musk and amber provides much-needed solid sensuality to an otherwise incredibly sweet, fresh, fruit-heavy scent. overall, this is probably one of the strongest scents - romantic, fun, flirty, pink, sunny, and very lovely. sannie :( <3

mingi:

mingi's is pretty interesting. everyone else has either musk or a wood in their base notes, but mingi has neither. this scent overall is herby, a touch floral, a little lemony - warm in a green way, bright and fresh.

bergamot offers a scent of sweet orange with a touch of warm spice. cardamom will reinforce the warmth and spice, and complement the citrusy bergamot by balancing the sweet with a bit of extra zest… it lends itself to a hint of inviting intoxication. this one will smell suuuuuper nice imo. the clary sage might be the most solid animalistic scent in this profile, and even that’s offset by the sleepy sweet powder scent of lavender.

the geranium - as mentioned above in yeosang's, it's a blend of herb, citrus, and fruity floral - and powdery, light, clean white musk contribute to the airiness of this oil.

looking at the others’ oils, 5/8 of them have musk (not white musk (which hongjoong and mingi have), musk) as one of their base notes, and 7/8 of them have either musk or a wood in their base notes - mingi is the only one with neither! musk and woods usually provide that sort of robustness, depth, and warmth to a scent, and mingi's, lacking both, is probably very light, fresh, and airy in comparison to the others, focusing more on its mid and top notes to create the primary scent.

overall a really fresh, light scent - not heavy or robust in the way the others are. refreshing and soothing sounds really right :)

wooyoung:

cardamom, woods, musk, and amber all the way down make for a very solid, masculine scent. it's warm and incredibly woody, with a hint of spice through the top notes that offsets the headiness of the base notes.

the base notes are very heady. musk and amber show up in a few of the others' base notes too, and vetiver also shows up in yeosang's, so i've covered these already - vetiver in particular lends itself to a classically masculine scent. veeeeerrryyyy masculine base notes overall.

if i had to guess, considering the vetiver base note and the fact that sandalwood and cedarwood are mid notes and not base notes, this is probably a veeeeery woody-smelling oil. just natural, earthy, woody, masculine goodness <3

jongho:

lemon, bergamot, and lime top notes offer an immediate, sharp, citrusy goodness.

i'm not sure if orange flower is any different to orange blossom - it could be more akin to neroli, which is similar to orange blossom but less warm, and a touch bitterer. either way, jasmine, lilac, and leafy green notes offer a freshness and natural sweet, rather than something more artificial and sugary, that complements the citrusy top notes well - particularly lilac, which i've found often has an initial scent of citrus itself.

balsamic base notes... 😋 i'm not sure which one specifically this is referring to, or if it's a general mix, but balsamic scents are usually rich-sweet-tangy, with a woody, almost damp sort of smell to it. very thick, very heady, probably also very welcome after all that citrus at the top. it's still a predominantly citrusy oil overall, but the balsamic notes at the base offer a woody offset that tempers it just a little.

[kathlare]

second chances

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando makes a bold, heartfelt gesture by flying to New York to surprise Amelie and try to fix their fractured relationship.

Wordcount: 2.0 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

November 28th, 2023 - New York City, NY

Lando hadn’t slept much since Abu Dhabi.

The lights of New York City flickered below him as the plane began its descent. His mind raced with thoughts of Amelie—her smile, her laugh, the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. He had spent the entire flight rehearsing what he was going to say, running through every possible outcome. None of them felt good enough, but he knew he couldn’t let her slip away. Not this time.

The party in Abu Dhabi had been a blur of music, drinks, and noise. He hadn’t meant to call her, but the alcohol had loosened his tongue and made him reckless. Her voice, tinged with hurt and frustration, still echoed in his head.

So here he was, thousands of miles from Monaco, standing outside her apartment in the crisp November air, holding a bag of groceries and a bouquet of white roses—her favorite, if he remembered correctly.

It was risky. He didn’t know if she would even hear him out, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Lando adjusted his grip on the bouquet, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He checked his watch—7:13 PM. Amelie’s rehearsal was supposed to end at six, but he knew how these things went. She was probably stuck in some last-minute run-through or chatting with her team about the upcoming Jingle Ball performance. He took a steadying breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he fumbled with the keycard her assistant had reluctantly handed over earlier that day.

The apartment smelled like her—a mix of vanilla and something floral he couldn’t quite place. It was warm and cozy, lit with soft golden tones from the table lamps she had scattered around the living room. Her piano sat by the window, sheet music messily stacked on top. It was so distinctly Amelie that it made his chest ache.

He set the groceries on the kitchen counter and got to work, methodically pulling out the ingredients for the dinner he’d planned. Pasta—simple, comforting, and, according to Amelie, the one thing he hadn’t managed to screw up the last time he cooked for her. He found her pots and pans easily, rummaging through drawers for utensils while trying not to snoop too much.

The plan was straightforward: make dinner, pour some wine, and wait. Wait for her to come home. Wait for her to give him a chance to explain.

As the sauce simmered and the smell of garlic filled the apartment, Lando tried to distract himself by setting the table. He placed two plates, folded napkins, and lit a couple of candles he found in a drawer. The roses sat in a vase in the center, and he took a step back to admire his work. It wasn’t fancy—he wasn’t a romantic by nature—but it was real. And that’s what he needed her to see.

By the time he heard the click of the front door, his palms were sweating, and his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest. He turned, wiping his hands on a dish towel as Amelie stepped inside, her bag slung over her shoulder, her hair a little messy from the cold wind outside.

She froze when she saw him, her keys halfway to the counter.

Her eyes widened, a mix of surprise and confusion flashing across her face. —Lando?—

—Hey.— His voice came out softer than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. He gave her a tentative smile, gesturing toward the table. —I, uh... made dinner.—

Amelie blinked, still standing by the door as if unsure whether to stay or leave. —What are you doing here?—

—I came to see you,— he admitted, stepping closer. —I needed to see you. To talk.—

She set her bag down slowly, her gaze flicking between him and the table, then to the roses in the vase. —Lando, you can’t just show up here...—

—I know,— he interrupted, raising his hands. —I know, and I’m sorry. But I had to. After Abu Dhabi... after what I said... I couldn’t let it end like that.—

Her expression softened for a split second, but then she crossed her arms over her chest, her walls going back up. —You were drunk,— she said flatly. —You didn’t even know what you were saying.—

—I did,— he countered, his voice firm. —Maybe I was drunk, but everything I said? I meant it. Every word.—

Amelie exhaled, running a hand through her hair as she leaned against the counter. —Lando, this... whatever we’re doing... it’s not working. I told you that.—

—I know you did.— He stepped closer, his voice quieter now. —And I get it. I haven’t exactly been the best at showing you how much this matters to me. But it does, Amelie. You matter to me.—

She looked away, her jaw tightening. —We’ve been here before, haven’t we? You show up, you say the right things, and then... nothing changes.—

—That’s not fair,— he said, his tone pained. —You know it’s not like that. Things were different back then. I was an idiot, I didn’t know how to handle...—

—You didn’t know how to handle me being busy?— she cut in, her voice sharp. —You didn’t know how to handle the fact that I have a life outside of you?—

Lando flinched but held his ground. —I wasn’t ready then,— he admitted. —But I am now. I know I screwed up before, and I’m not asking you to forget that. I’m asking for a chance to do it right this time.—

Amelie shook her head, her arms still crossed as she studied him. —And what does ‘right’ even mean, Lando? Are we still sneaking around, pretending this is nothing? Because I can’t keep doing that.—

He took another step closer, closing the distance between them. —No,— he said firmly. —I don’t want to sneak around anymore. I want this to be real, Amelie. I want us to be real.—

Her eyes searched his, and for a moment, he thought he saw something crack in her armor. But then she shook her head again, letting out a shaky laugh. —You’re saying all the right things now, but what happens when the season starts again? When you’re flying around the world and I’m stuck here or on tour? What happens when it gets hard?—

—It’s always going to be hard,— he admitted, his voice steady. —But I’m willing to fight for this. For you. I’ll do whatever it takes, Amelie. Just... please. Don’t shut me out.—

Silence hung between them, heavy and uncertain.

Finally, she sighed, her arms dropping to her sides. —You’re exhausting, you know that?—

A small smile tugged at his lips. —You’re not exactly easy, either.—

That earned him a faint smile in return, and he felt a flicker of hope.

Amelie glanced at the table, then back at him. —You made pasta?—

He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. —It’s the only thing I know how to make without burning the kitchen down.—

She let out a soft laugh, and for the first time that evening, he saw her shoulders relax.

Amelie stepped closer to the table, tracing her fingers over the edge of the vase holding the roses. Her expression softened, but there was still a hint of hesitation in her eyes.

—You really came all the way here for this?— she asked, her voice quieter now.

Lando nodded, stepping up beside her. —I came all the way here for you.—

She glanced at him, her lips pressing into a thin line as if trying to suppress a smile. —You’re lucky I’m starving. If this pasta is as bad as the last time, though, I’m kicking you out.—

Lando grinned, the tension in his chest easing slightly. —Deal. But fair warning, it’s actually decent this time.—

She rolled her eyes but allowed him to pull out her chair. Once she was seated, he poured them each a glass of wine and took the seat across from her. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the apartment were the clink of forks against plates and the occasional hum of approval from Amelie.

—Okay,— she said finally, setting her fork down and leaning back in her chair. —I’ll admit it. This is good. You’ve improved.—

Lando smirked. —I told you. I’ve been practicing. Turns out, I had a lot of time to kill after races.—

Amelie tilted her head, studying him. —You didn’t have to do all of this, you know.—

—I did,— Lando said simply, meeting her gaze. —Because you’re worth it. And because I needed you to see that I’m not the same guy I was back then. I don’t just want to be someone you hook up with when things feel easy. I want to be there when things are hard, too.—

Her expression softened, and she picked up her wine glass, taking a slow sip as if to buy herself time. —It’s not that simple, Lando. You can’t just show up with pasta and roses and expect me to forget everything that happened.—

—I’m not asking you to forget,— he replied, his voice steady. —I’m asking you to give me a chance to prove that I’ve learned from it. That I can be better for you.—

She studied him for a long moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. —You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?—

—Completely,— he said without hesitation. —I’ve spent the last few years trying to convince myself I was fine without you. But I wasn’t. I missed you, Amelie. More than I can put into words. And when I saw you again in Mexico... it all came back. I don’t want to mess this up again.—

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Instead, she looked down at her plate, her lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. Lando leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he continued.

—I know I hurt you before,— he said softly. —And I hate that I was the reason you felt that way. But I’m here now, and I’m telling you... I want this. I want us.—

Her eyes flicked back up to meet his, and he saw the vulnerability there, the fear she was trying so hard to hide. —And what if it doesn’t work? What if we just end up hurting each other all over again?—

—Then we’ll deal with it together,— he said, his voice unwavering. —But I’d rather try and fail than spend the rest of my life wondering what could’ve been.—

The room fell silent again, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Amelie set her glass down and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she regarded him with a mix of skepticism and something softer, something warmer.

—You’re really laying it all out there, aren’t you?— she said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. —Yeah, well, I figured subtlety hasn’t exactly worked for me in the past.—

Her smile widened slightly, and for the first time that evening, he felt a flicker of hope. She reached for the roses in the vase, gently touching one of the petals. —You remembered these are my favorite.—

—Of course I did,— he said, his tone soft. —I remember everything about you.—

She glanced up at him, her eyes searching his face for something. Whatever it was, she must have found it, because she let out a quiet sigh and sat back in her chair.

For what felt like an eternity, her blue eyes searching his face for any hint of insincerity. Lando held her gaze, willing her to see how much he meant every word. Finally, she set her wine glass down with a soft clink and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

—You’re serious about this?— she asked quietly, her voice no longer sharp but cautious, as if daring to believe him.

Lando nodded, leaning forward as well, his forearms resting on the edge of the table. —Completely. I’ve thought about this, about us, every single day since we ended things. And I’m not here to mess around, Amelie. I’m here because I want to do it right this time.—

A small smile tugged at her lips, almost reluctant, and she let out a breathy laugh. —You sound like you’ve rehearsed that.—

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. —Maybe a little. I had a long flight to think it over.—

Her smile widened slightly, but she still didn’t drop her guard entirely. —So, what now? You’re just going to sweep me off my feet and promise the world?—

—Something like that,— he teased, his lips quirking up into a smirk. Then, more seriously, he added, —But I’m not promising perfection. I’m promising effort. I know it’s not going to be easy, and I know we’ll have moments where it feels impossible. But I’m willing to fight for it, for you, if you’ll let me.—

Amelie looked down at the table, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her wine glass. She seemed to be weighing his words, her lips pressed into a thoughtful line. After a moment, she glanced up at him, her expression softening.

—You’re really something, Lando Norris,— she murmured, shaking her head with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

—Is that a good thing?— he asked, his grin tentative.

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she gave him a long, assessing look. Then, out of nowhere, she smirked. —Why are you sitting all the way over there?—

The question caught him off guard, and his brows furrowed in confusion. —What do you mean?—

She gestured to the small gap between them, raising an eyebrow. —I mean, you’re sitting all the way over there like we’re at some formal business dinner. Move closer, Lando.—

He blinked, a slow grin spreading across his face as he realized she was teasing him. —You could’ve just asked nicely.—

—Where’s the fun in that?— she shot back, her smirk turning playful.

Lando didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his plate and wine glass, scooting his chair around the corner of the table until he was seated beside her. Close enough to feel the warmth of her presence, close enough that their knees brushed under the table. He set his things down and looked at her, his heart racing as he reached for her hand.

Amelie glanced down at their joined hands, her fingers hesitating for a brief moment before curling around his. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he realized just how much he’d missed this, missed her.

—Better?— he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. —Better.—

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the soft glow of the candles casting warm shadows across the room. Lando traced circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. He knew they still had a lot to talk about, a lot to work through, but for now, he was content to just be here with her.

Eventually, Amelie broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. —You really mean it, don’t you?—

—Every word,— he said without hesitation, meeting her gaze. —I’m not here to play games, Amelie. I’m here because I want this, want you.—

She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to find any cracks in his resolve. But when she spoke again, her voice was steady, her words laced with cautious hope.

—Okay.—

His heart skipped a beat. —Okay?—

She nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. —Okay. Let’s try this. But if you screw up, Norris, I’m not giving you another chance.—

—I won’t screw up,— he promised, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. —Not this time.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of fondness in her expression. —You’d better not.—

Lando couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face, and before he could second-guess himself, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her head, deepening the kiss just enough to make his heart race.

When they finally broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, and she was looking at him with an expression that made his chest ache in the best way.

—You’re lucky the pasta was good,— she teased, her voice light.

Lando laughed, the sound warm and genuine. —Noted. Good pasta, good kisses. Got it.—

She rolled her eyes again, but she was smiling, and for the first time in a long time, Lando felt like maybe, just maybe, they had a real shot at making this work.

[aromantic-ace]

Humans Are Weird/SpaceOrcs: Human Rage

After my take on "Assholes" i got enough inspiration to actually try to write the entry of that poor T'slich and his reaction after witnessing a real Human Rage.

Cycle 45 after the start of the Expedition.

Crew Member: T'slich of the Kerb System.

When i was taught about humans and their rage i obviously was very impressed by their ability to pull some incredible action and was warned about their irrationnality. But i always though of it as eitheir a myth or something very unlikely to happen, even after the friction between Human Leila and the captain i was glad to learn that it is not as frequent as the Intergalactic Manuals make it sound but all doubt i had about it and all the reassurement from others humans could not make me forget that look on Human Leila after another altercation with the Captain.

Her anger was understandable, it wasn't cargo that was lost this time but a team of three explorator that were ambushed by some kind of unknown floral specie. We were expecting her to be angry, humans are famous for their bonding ability but due to the danger and high chance of death the Captain did not send any rescue team. We could hear her scream and insult from accross the ship and most telepathic crew member had to go to the other side of the ship to lower the intensity of her brain waves. When i went to see what was happening i found her storming through the corridor in direction of the armory, the Captain desk was almost destroyed and his face white of shock. I realise i couldn't stop her when she threw over a Jyr twice her size that was trying to stop her from getting to the armory, she wasn't even hired as a soldier ! How her little scientist body of nearly 1 meter and 64 centimeter could do that ? She continued yelling that she wasn't going to stay passive when her friend were in need of help. She took one of the small vessel for transport in atmosphere and left, alone and wouldn't answer any communication, all we had was the signal GPS of her ship and vital signal of her suit.

Cycle 45 and a third after the start of the Expedition.

Crew Member: T'slich of the Kerb System.

I had to use all of my social ability to convince the captain not to leave and to wait for at least half a cycle, it seem that he also was sceptic about humans and their rage and wanted to charge Human Leila with assault and desertion. But right when my argument wouldn't be enough other members of the crew came to assist me, it seem that they too had bonded with Human Leila and argued that such devotion for the crew could only benefit the Expedition, after realising the support the crew was giving her the Captain accepted to wait and aggreed that he was probably acting under shock and anger.

We got news from Human Leila after around a quarter of cycle after her rescue mission started. She came back with a half destroyed ship and part of her suit and hair had burned. But she was alive and with the three missing explorators who were absolutely unharmed apart for a few first degree burns. I will never forget the look on Human Leila face when she pointed her gun at the one that refused to send rescue and simply said "No one left behind." None of us dared to say anything except the medical team who went to tend the rescued, we all had this impression that saying anything could get us killed. And without saying anything Human Leila returned the stolen equipment and refused any medical care before returning to her room.

None of us asked Human Leila about how she managed to pull such a move when she wasn't a soldier nor a pilot, according to the Intergalactic Manuals About Humans the female humans are often considered to be gentle and caring, there was apparently some casts of human where their female were specialised in warfare but the information is old of at least a milenia and Human Leila wasn't fitting any of their physical traits. I will request a change to the Manual after the report on the incident is completed, because if i have learned one thing with Human Leila it's that you should NOT, EVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE leave crew member bonded with a human behind, because there is a higher risk of mutiny and injury from the human than there would be trying to rescue the missing crew.

I am the only one comfortable enough to speak without fear with Human Leila, she is acting as if nothing extraordinary happened, as if it was normal and none of us would dare to say otherwise, she seem to be really evasive with telling us about what happened, she mentionned something about "games" for her ability to do it (secret human training protocole ? I will have to research more about that). And the medical team reported that the burns were mostly caused by the fuel used in her ship, some of us suggested that she probably used Human tactics to make some makeshift fire ammo or fire bomb in order to free the rescued. She hasnt spoke with the Captain since and do not refuse to comply with her orders assigned. We still have much to learn.

End of Entry

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹♡ WHAT THE !READER’S SMELL LIKE

a MUCH requested list of perfumes my lovely !reader’s would smell like <3 please keep in mind that i haven’t smelled majority of these, i’m just going based off of the scent notes!

bambi!reader: ‘forever in love’ by loveshockfancy

main accords: white floral, lactonic, woody

top note: green pear

middle note: gardenia

base note: cedarwood

pogue!sweetheart!reader: ‘cupcake swirl’ by body fantasies

main accords: sweet, vanilla, coconut, lactonic, warm spicy, powdery, musky

top notes: buttercream, ginger, clove

middle notes: cookie, butter

base notes: vanilla, coconut, musk

kook!sweetheart!reader: ‘mod blush’ by ariana grande

main accords: fruity, sweet, musky, rose, floral, citrus, tropical, powdery, fresh, amber

top notes: raspberry, passion fruit, pink pepper, bergamot

middle notes: rose, pear, magnolia

base notes: musk, dreamwood, ambroxan, sandalwood

farmer’s!daughter!reader: ‘sweet tooth cherry baby’ by sabrina carpenter

main accords: sweet, cherry, fruity, chocolate, amber, warm spicy, musky, woody

top notes: cherry, brown sugar, apple, plum

middle notes: dark chocolate, red poppy, vanilla orchid, peony

base notes: cashmere wood, amber, musk, patchouli, resin

latina!kook!reader: ‘layali rouge’ by swiss arabian

main accords: floral, tropical, fruity, sweet, rose, woody

top notes: hibiscus, sandalwood, coconut

middle notes: peach, rose

base notes: floral notes, mango, pineapple, papaya, lemon

bitchy!kook!reader: ‘good girl blush’ by carolina herrera

main accords: floral, vanilla, citrus, fresh, sweet, yellow floral, rose, woody, fresh spicy, aromatic

top notes: bergamot, bitter almond

middle notes: peony, ylang-ylang

base notes: vanilla, coumarin

bitchy!pogue!reader: ‘viva la juicy pink couture’ by pink couture

main accords: fruity, sweet, aquatic, floral, ozonic, woody, vanilla, fresh, lactonic, tropical

top notes: watermelon, water lily, cassis, quince

middle notes: strawberry, frangipani, jasmine

base notes: vanilla, praline, sandalwood, driftwood

sheep!reader: ‘sweet tooth’ by sabrina carpenter

main accords: sweet, vanilla, powdery, warm spicy

top notes: marshmallow, chocolate, candied ginger, bergamot

middle notes: madagascar vanilla, coconut milk, jasmine

base notes: whipped cream, sugar, musk, cashmere wood

[saintmuses]

❝𝙄 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙫𝙮, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙄'𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙮❞

Pairing:

Lenny Miller x Stripper!Reader

Summary:

She was one of the former CIA operatives who escaped from the deaths of others when their mission to kill KGB’s director was compromised. She was never to be seen again until Lenny came across her at a strip club he had no intention of going to.

Warning(s): SMUT. P in V. Lap-dancing. Riding. Minors, dni!

Word Count: 3k

New York City had always been lively, so was everywhere in the state of New York. He had recently moved to his apartment about a month ago after leaving Washington D.C. for an assignment.

The narrowed alley was filled with slight echoes from his leather shoes as he walked down the darkened street.

He had been in Europe for a few years, but he left after the success of eliminating KGB’s director with Anna’s help and after she died, he requested a transfer to a different CIA location for a change of scenery.

He cared for Anna, but not like how she cared for him. He had to let her down gently after realizing she was latching onto his kindness for something more during her mission to obliterate KGB’s director.

He'd suppose he would've reciprocated her feelings if someone else didn't steal his heart long before then.

"Give it up for Daisy! Quite a show she gave you guys!"

He paused; his head turned towards the building where his hearing picked up an intriguing announcement.

Rarity had its moments when he used to go to strip clubs to find a potential dancer to warm his bed when they were all that rage back in the day and willingly to break the no-sleeping rule. Now he was satisfied with living in solidarity.

As much as the strip club was dirty but it had a compelling atmosphere with heavy seductive beats.

Of their own accord, his feet moved closer to the door of the club. 

He froze when a bouncer grunted out a number, and he realized that he was standing at the entrance. He fished out a wad of cash after pulling it out from his trouser pocket. Entering through the door after handing over the cash to the bouncer.

Dimmed lights and smokey air greeted him as he moved further in the club.

His eyes scanned the stage to see one of the best dancers. She was the reason why he was in the dingy place.

Only she was already gone before he entered the building, and he felt a flash of disappointment. Nevertheless, he found an available seat by the stage.

He inhaled harshly when he saw a girl, no, a woman passing by him. He recognized her by her face which was adorned with smokey makeup. Her hair was set up with loose curls, and she wore a revealing white lacy bra and a white lacy skirt attached to her white underwear.

It was a fit for her skin tone.

However, what caught his attention was her scent. It was the same floral aroma he had smelled when he first met her.

His hand shot out, clasping his fingers around her slim wrist before she could walk any further.

"Excuse me, you can't touch-" She started, whirling around, almost affronted only to falter in surprise when her eyes landed on the familiar man. "Lenny?" She asked, making a slight noise in her throat as she stared down at him.

He hadn't seen her since the night she disappeared when the first mission to assassinate KGB’s director had gone wrong. Of course, it didn’t deter him from searching for her only to give up when she did a job of eradicating herself from the grid the way they all learned how to if things went wrong.

A few years had made Y/N even more beautiful than she was when she was younger.

His lips curled into a smirk, "Daisy." He said her stage name smoothly before releasing her wrist.

Sure, it was her favorite flower. He knew little things about her the ways he would not care to learn if it was someone else.

Her cheeks quickly flushed in embarrassment, "what are you doing here?" 

Before he could answer her question, a man walked up to them. Stumbling as he went before standing in front of them.

Lenny could tell he was intoxicated by the smell of his breath as it washed over them and the way he was swaying. 

His eyes flickered to her when she shifted uncomfortably, eyes down casting to the concrete floor.

He could feel his skin crawling when he noticed the drunk man leering at her, as he pulled out his wallet, he watched Y/N's face, his mouth grew taut as her eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

She did not want to; it was clear to him.

Lenny reached out, effectively stopping the man from fishing out cash for a private dance. "Pardon me, she is doing me a favor." He said dryly, eyes narrowing when he saw the man turning to him with a challenge look in his pupils’ blown depths.

"I didn't see you pay her," he scoffed.

Lenny’s lips curled in amusement as he absentmindedly grabbed his leather wallet, grabbing a crisp hundred-dollar bill, he saw her eyes widened before he handed it over to her.

"Now I just did," he countered with a hint of smugness in his tone as he stared down at the sleazy man.

He could feel her grabbing the bill, and he turned to her ignoring the man standing in front of them. "May we find a room?"

She bit down her lower lip, before nodding.

When she found them an available room, he allowed her to go in first before turning to a bouncer who stood in the hallway for private rooms; he quietly paid him to not let anyone in until they leave and not to bother them. 

She turned to him after he'd shut the door quietly. "I'm sorry...but I will have to give you a dance," she said quietly. Flushing as her eyes laid on the door behind Lenny’s shoulder. 

"Of course."

He walked over to the couch that was adorned with red leather fabric. Music with tempo beats bled through the speakers. 

It was meant to be seductive.

He sat down with an ease, watching Y/N staring at him with an unreadable mask on her face before she walked over to him shyly. "How long have you been working here?"

She hesitated, eyes flickering away from the floor to his. "Almost four years."

"Why?" He wasn't being judgmental, but he was very curious especially when she didn't answer him. "Y/N, what happened?" He almost persisted.

After a moment of pause, she answered. "I've been hiding from the KGB operatives," she said quietly. "After a near brush with death, I thought that I would have a chance staying low. So, I moved here after I escaped from the building." Her eyes then flickered to somewhere else as it became unseeing. "I joined the strip club to make money."

She leaned down slightly to take off her heels as the light notes started to play from the stereo. He shifted in his seat when he realized she would have to give him a lap dance.

He almost inhaled sharply when her hands touched his trouser-clad knees.

She then slid her hands up his thighs, slowing her pace as she reached up his chest, her fingers ghosting over his blazer.

"Why are you in New York?" She asked, breaking the tension that thickened the moment the door was shut.

His eyes were almost heavily lidded as he was influenced by the tension of the room when he stared down at her.

"I live here now; I left after the mission of assassinating the KGB director went successful." He said, his fingers rubbed on the leather next to his thigh absentmindedly.

Her lips twitched, "congratulations."

Avoiding his eyes, she leaned over him slightly before putting her hands on his shoulders. 

"Thank you for saving me from him." 

Knowing she was talking about the intoxicated male. "You're welcome, and you shouldn't have to deal with that." He murmured.

Her hands applied pressure as she put her knees next to each of his thighs, the air was suffocating him as he had to keep the noises to a slight minimum.

He didn't shy away from her shy gaze when she peered at him, he could tell she was nervous. He didn't blame her for feeling that way, since they never really cross the line of their work until now.

His fingers again itched to trace her skin, and his eyes widened slightly when she started twirling her hips sensually that it affected him greatly.

If seeing her constantly as his operative was bad enough, the fact she was almost naked years later -bra and thong as the only source of cover- would be his undoing.

She was stiff especially with how she was moving with her hips, quite frankly so was he. For different reasons from hers, he thought. She was twirling her hips above his thighs, lowering her form slightly, nearly brushing against the rising bulge in his slacks.

He held his breath, he was being selfish especially with how she was uncomfortable in his presence, but he didn't want to stop her.

He was a gentleman; he would stop if she wasn't willing.

He reached for her hips with his hands and pushed her lower body down onto his hardened cock. Keeping her hips immobilized as the room was filled with a little gasp coming from her lips and heavy breathing from the stoic man.

He closed his eyes when she tentatively started to shift her hips, in a movement that had her grinding lightly against his bulge.

"Lenny." She breathed his name slightly.

His eyes shot open, staring into her depths as the scent of her arousal predominated the air. He was still staring at her when he reached her back. Ghosting his fingers onto her dampened skin as they traced the grooves, ridges, and curves of her spine before enclosing his fingers around her bra clasps.

He then twisted the metal clasps to unhook her bra before sliding his fingers towards her neck. Gripping it slightly before pulling her down so he could taste her lips.

A tiny puff of air coming from her lips in a form of gasp had him giving her a bruised kiss. He wanted it for so long that he was devouring the taste of her lips.

Her fingers gripped his shoulders as she moved her warm lips against his. He slowly moved his hands towards her breasts, cupping them slightly. Thumbs flickering over her pebbled nipples. 

Swallowing her gasp into his mouth after he arched his hips when she went to grind down onto him.

He then slid his hands down around her waist before sliding towards her back to unclasp her mini lacy skirt before making her get on her feet; so, he could put his fingers in her thong before pulling them down.

"You have thought about this, didn't you." He said in a husky tone, making his voice raspier.

Her eyes were wide, watching him, and her mouth was open "no." She said after a beat. It may be dimmed in the room, but luckily his eyes were able to train on how her pupils dilated.

He smirked before pulling her to him, pushing her waist so he could move her away from him. 

She looked at him confused before turning around, and she gasped when he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her down on top of him.

She leaned back onto him as she'd spread her thighs over his. His hands slid over her legs.

"What did I tell you about your eyes, sweetheart?" He murmured against the curve of her neck, gripping her thighs as he grazed his fingers into the juncture of her thighs.

"I don't remember," a gasp tore from her lungs as he pressed his fingers onto her clit.

He chuckled lowly in his throat, trailing his lips towards her ear. "You're a very bad liar," he rasped, his lips stretched into a predatory smile as he rubbed one of his fingers down through her slit. Collecting her wetness along before pushing a finger into her.

He inhaled slowly when she made a slight noise, and he moved his finger in a thrusting movement before adding another finger.

"If it makes you feel better, I thought about it." He breathed into her ear, "especially after you started working for me." 

Oh, he definitely imagined her in one of situations. Taking her behind on her hands and knees while the others were out of the building for the night.

She inhaled sharply, "you imagined taking me over your desk?" She asked disbelievingly.

He chuckled lowly, "I may be very good at controlling myself, but deep down I am still a man."

She snorted slightly, "a caveman." 

His lips curled upwardly, "you have no idea, sweetheart." He said before using his thumb to rub her clit which made her thrust her hips in response.

"I think you'd be surprised," she murmured, rolling her hips along with his movement. "When I first started working with you, you had this strict professor vibe like a professor since you wore suits." She paused, breathing heavily when he curled both of his fingers. "I used to fantasize you teaching to the class and waited until after the class for you to take me on the desk while calling you sir."

He felt a heat of tendrils curling on his back at the thought of taking her on the desk.

"I'll teach you how to say sir," he rumbled, and he smirked when he felt more wetness leaking out of her. He reached with his other hand to cup her breast and rubbed across her nipple before he pressed a kiss onto her neck.

"I want you to fuck me, Lenny." She quietly pleaded. "Sir," she then said playfully.

He exhaled a weak chuckle before pulling out his fingers, and he waited for her to stand up so he could unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks.

She stopped him, "wait. I want you to take your blazer off." She said quietly.

He softened before reaching for the black fabric, sliding them off his shoulders before putting it aside. He then unbuckled his leather belt, and he could feel her eyes which made his eyes flickered to hers before lowering his zipper. 

His lips almost curled at the increasing lust in her eyes, before reaching his hand down in his briefs, and took his cock out which gently slapped against his abdomen due to how hard it was.

His eyes darkened at the increasing aroma of her arousal, "come here." He said huskily, eyeing her as she walked over to him.

She then put each of her knees beside his thighs as she straddled his knees, and he inhaled when she reached for his cock, encircling her fingers around his girth.

Her fingers could barely even touch, leaving an inch gap between her index finger and her thumb. "You're so..." she trailed off, struggling to find words to describe his cock.

He smirked, "I know."

Her eyes flickered to his, before rolling her eyes playfully.

He reached behind her, grabbing the curve of her buttocks with both of his hands before sliding her forward.

She lifted her hips slightly enough for his cock to be able to slide into her, and once she eased her hips down. He threw his head back at the warm feeling of her walls sliding down on his cock as she gasped above him.

He slid his hands to grip her hip and moved her upward before slamming into her as he pushed her hips back down.

"Fuck." She moaned, her hands gripping slightly on his hair at the base of his neck before sliding down to his shirt and started to unbutton the fabric.

Once she was done with her task, she raised her hips once again and slammed back down.

He jerked his hips sharply when she used her walls to clench down on his cock.

"Y/N," he warned her, not wanting to come too soon. He reached down with his hand before giving her a soft smack on one of her buttocks.

She jerked her hips in surprise before moaning.

"You like that too," he breathed, chuckling before giving her another one. She inhaled as more wetness leaked out of her once again. 

She looked down at him, and with a mischievous look in her depths, she clenched around his cock again.

She was on her back before she could make another movement on his cock with her vaginal walls, he was on his trouser-clad knees, her thighs wrapped around his hips as he thrusted into her harshly without hurting her.

She arched her back as he hovered over her, his lips barely grazed hers before he dragged his lips as he thrusted into her roughly. 

Their lips clashed once again when the force of his hips made her face level with his.

Her hair was wild as it spread around her face as he reached down to one of her legs, and moved her leg over his shoulder, making him sink into her deeper than he had before.

He grazed his lips on her calf, making her heart jump. He gave her a soft smirk. She slid her hands into his parted shirt before moving them onto his back, rubbing his skin slightly.

He let out a grunt when she dug her fingers on his back, which made him bury his face in the curve of her neck as he jerked his hips into her.

"Lenny." She moaned breathlessly, slightly arching her neck towards him.

He closed his eyes before leaning in towards the juncture of her neck. He then grazed her neck with his teeth.

Her fingers flexed against his back once more, and he could feel the upcoming pleasure. He then growled as he buried himself in her so deeply before he let the final pleasure wash over him; once he spilled into her, he buried his blunt teeth into her damp skin.

Her response was instantaneous, she arched her back and moaned so loudly as the final tempo of the song faded into the air.

Once they relaxed from the high, he withdrew his mouth from her neck before looking at her. "Y/N," he whispered, brushing her loose strands out of her face to look at her clearly.

She peered up at him with a satisfied smile, and heavily lidded eyes. "Lenny."

He gave her a lazy smile before craning his neck to give her a soft kiss.

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

Bone Saddle from Bohemia, c.1400-1420 CE: this Medieval saddle is decorated with bone plaques that depict scenes of romance and courtship, with references to sex, pleasure, and chivalry

This saddle was crafted from staghorn, bone, birch bark, rawhide, metal, and limewood. Bone pins and glue were used to fix each plaque to the limewood core of the saddle, and the panels were originally adorned with brightly-colored paints.

The bone plaques are decorated with intricately carved scenes of romance; some of these scenes show women being serenaded by suitors and troubadours, lovers caressing one another, couples exchanging tokens of their affection, and men offering luxury containers in exchange for their lovers' hearts. Squeezed beneath the left flank of the saddle is a scene that depicts two lovers holding hands and gazing at one another, while another scene on the right flank shows a man and woman standing cheek-to-cheek as the woman wraps her arms around the man's back and pulls him to her breast.

Knights, dragons, and monstrous figures are also depicted on several panels.

As the Metropolitan Museum of Art describes:

Romantic and erotic imagery adorned not only the pages of late medieval manuscripts and the vessels of a lady’s private dressing table; these themes were equally suited to the public self-fashioning of European nobles.

Illicit touch and unmediated sight are just two of the carnal senses evoked by this saddle. Tucked between larger figures, troubadours and instrument-bearing grotesques evoke the auditory pleasures of the court, while floral and arboreal motifs conjure the alluring sights, smells, and tastes of a pleasure garden.

On the right tip of the saddle’s pommel, a man pokes his hand into a conical hat as a cheeky reference to the amorous intentions of the embracing couple below. ... Even the shape of the saddle is suggestive. The accentuated curvature of the pommel and the double-lobed cantle (a common feature of Eastern European saddles) emphasize the saddle’s phallic form.

For those viewers bold enough to inspect the saddle’s hidden surfaces, grotesques under the pommel and at the center back of the cantle offer comic relief while also warning against the bestial side of desire.

The morals of late medieval Christianity are primarily embodied on this saddle by Saint George, shown as a knight spearing a dragon on the right side of the pommel. According to hagiographic precedent, the dragon’s defeat secured the safety of a captive maiden, an ideal of feminine purity threatened by the corruption of evil.

Saint George and the dragon and scenes of courtly love dominate the roughly twenty bone saddles that survive from late medieval Europe.

Attached to a limewood core with bone pins and glue, the carved panels probably derive from the pelvic bones of cows or other large animals. The underside of the saddle is lined with hide and birch bark. Although these fragile materials are ill suited for the battlefield or daily use, bone’s off-white color and receptiveness to carving served as the ideal ground for eye-catching carvings and paintings.

Viewers today should remember that the saddle was originally brightly colored with blue, green, and red paint. The saddle was also just one part of a larger ensemble of a horse’s parade armor.

This particular saddle is associated with the court of Wenceslaus IV.

Sources & More Info:

Metropolitan Museum: Bone Saddle

Museum Publication: Prague: the Crown of Bohemia

American Journal of Archaeology: Mediaeval Sculptured Saddle

The Gothic Ivories Project at the Courtauld Institute of Art: Trivulzio Saddle

Central European University: The Art of Love in Late Medieval Bone Saddles (PDF)

[h0neybane]

someone's probably already done one of these by this point but uh.

GHIBLI-MOVIE-BASED TWST FAN SCHOOL!!

i actually tried designing a ghibli inspired fanschool when i first got into twst (four years ago... yeesh) but it never took off and i cant find any of that anymore so... I'M TRYING AGAIN!! i literally dont even have a school name yet but i'll add tidbits explaining my choices for the uniform under the cut! i'll tag this with the school name when i come up with it later edit 8/4: school name has been added in tags! edit 8/4 (again): school logo and first dorm have been added! edit 8/6: second dorm added!

im 1st going to explain my reasoning for the uniform design and then dive into my ideas for the school itself (dorms, atmosphere, location, etc) one of the biggest things i assosciate ghibli with is their nature + sky shots; such as these ones

so i wanted to include flora inside the design, hence the boa, laurel, and the little vine wrapping around the fem uniforms sock! adding onto that, i made the uniform a light blue striped with white to reference the skies. i also assosciate ghibli movies with peace, so the light blue adds onto that. the band on the arm is the same as nrc's; serves to show what dorm the student is in. the mage stone is located at the broach on the collar's bowtie. the gold around the gem is meant to look like a little flower!

moving onto the ideas i have abt the school...

going back the floral aspects of the uniform design, i think it'd be really cute and magical if they when they recieved the greenery (i'll refer to both the boa and laurel as 'greenery' collectively for simplicity sake) during their freshman year, there were no flowers yet. i think over time, as each student grows as a mage over their years at the school, flowers and plants bloom on the greenery to show their progress. maybe the flowers are specific to each student? i cant decided whether its instinct or they choose what flowers they want themselves

i feel like itd be fitting for the school to be located in a very secluded area. when i picture it in my head, the main building is smack dab in the middle of a flower-filled hillside that's right next to a forest... i'd like for it to be next to water too, but i'm not sure if the ocean would make sense geographically????? maybe it's just a big lake or waterfall inside the forest

i think the correct aesthetic for the school is 'romantic academia?' that's what pinterest is telling me anyway LOL. i think maybe the building is just shaped like a castle similar to nrc and rsa.. but then again i really like the idea of it being similar to Little Witch Academia's luna nova academy. we'll see

like nrc, i have seven dorms planned and theyre twisted from the most iconic ghibli films (according to google). in no particular order: howl's moving castle, princess mononoke, spirited away, ponyo, my neighbor totoro, kiki's delivery service, and castle in the sky. i might add or remove some of these! but theyre what i have for now. thats all i have for now, but feel free to give me any input/ideas (whether in the replies or my asks)! also if anybody wants to draw their oc in the uniform or anything i'd love to see it pls @ me...!!!!

[becomeundeath]

Fragrances for the Dead

A list of fragrances that would be fitting of the dead and undead. Many of these sellers have more intriguing fragrances in the same theme, so be sure to check them out. Prices are included and listed in USD.

Midnight Mass by Amorphous

"Aroma palette is smoky, incense, and resinous. Highlights include frankincense, myrrh, ancient moss, aged merlot, antique woods, and extinguished candle wick." Price: $26/5ml oil / $160/50ml EDP

Vena Cava by Amorphous

"Aroma palette is woodsy, floral, and metallic. Highlights include dark florals, merlot, orris, ylang ylang, oud, and blood accord." Price: $26/5ml oil / $160/50ml EDP

Bloodflower by PARFUMS QUARTANA

"Aromatic anisé liquor stirs a metallic blood accord into a frenzy of nocturnal delight. Accords: Licorice, Anise, Blood Accord, Cloves, Orris, Bulgarian Rose, Amber, Patchouli" Price: $11/2ml EDP / $195/50ml EDP

Grave by Redwood Alchemy

"This scent is reminiscent of freshly turned grave dirt, damp grass, powdered flowers, coffin wood and etched granite slabs cloaked in moss. Notes: Etched Gravestones, Pine Boxes, Old Creeping Moss, Freshly Turned Grave Dirt, Dry Flowers." Price: $42.99/10ml / $119.99/30ml

St Louis Cemetery by Alkemia

"An atmospheric brooding of Spanish moss, crumbling stone, old cement, red clay brick, and graveyard dirt." Price: $20/5ml extrait / $95/30ml extrait

Olympic Rainforest by Olympic Orchards

"Notes: cedar leaves, green sword ferns, rhododendron, forest mushrooms, beebalm, myrtle, wildflowers, oakmoss, black spruce, balsam fir, Port Orford Cedar, earthy accord." Price: $3/1ml / $65/30ml

Zombie for Him by Demeter

"Both Zombie scents are described as a combination of dried leaves, mushrooms, mildew, moss and earth." Price: $25/30ml

Inexcusable Evil by Toskovat'

Based off of the concept of war and the horrors of it, said to smell like gunpowder, concrete, blood, and iodine. Price: Sold Out (originally $255/60ml)

Bonus: Accent fragrances

Blood by Redwood Alchemy

"This unique layering accord reeks pungently of realistic, fresh blood. Notes: Blood, Iron & Copper" Price: $54.99/10ml / $139.99/30ml

Dirt by Demeter

"Our most emblematic fragrance, Demeter's Dirt was made to smell exactly like the dirt from the fields around the Pennsylvania family farm belonging to our founding perfumer." Price: $25/30ml

Funeral Home by Demeter

"Funeral Home is a blend of classic white flowers including lilies, carnations, gladiolus, chrysanthemums with stems and leaves, with a hint of mahogany and oriental carpet." Price: $25/30ml

Bonfire by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

"The perfume of withering leaves, their brittle forms surrendering to the flame, releasing a sigh of bitter smoke that is flickering with the ghosts of summer’s memory." Price: $29 oil

The Fifth Veil by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

"Putrefaction, the veil of decay. A yellowing shroud of raw-edged Muga silk, banana-spotted with chunks of fermented fig and exuding rich, earthy puffs of mushroom dust." Price: $31 oil

Ezekiel 16:49 by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

"Blood musk and ashes." Price: $33 oil

Where to get samples:

I personally recommend Luckyscent and Surrender to Chance for decants of brands that might be out of stock or don't offer samples. Most samples will be anywhere from $3 to $8 and these sites will often have sales, especially during the holidays.

Some places such as Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, Hexennacht, or The Strange South are partnered with Ajevie to provide samples.

Additional:

Fragrances more often than not are NOT cheap. I highly recommend tracking down a sample of whatever fragrance you want BEFORE spending the money to get a bottle. Always try fragrances in a small amount beforehand to make sure you have no reactions to the formula or scent, and wash it off quickly if you do. When wearing perfume oils, keep the area out of direct sunlight.

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

The perfume that each Yellowjackets character would wear (according to my girlfriend)

She is obsessed with designer perfumes for some reason and was very insistent that I make a post about this. Every perfume mentioned here is extensively smelled and tested by her every time we enter a Sephora (while I complain and ask to leave) so I would consider her an expert on the topic. I refuse to accept any other opinions on these because my girlfriend is always right.

Natalie - Cherry Smoke by Tom Ford

Notes: Cherry, woody, smoky, leather, sweet

Scent type: Woody spices

Lottie - Bohème by loveshackfancy

Notes: Blackcurrant, peony, white amber

Scent type: Classic florals

Misty - Pistachio Gelato Yum by Kay Ali

Notes: Pistachio, ice cream, cotton candy, whipped cream

Scent type: Warm and sweet gourmands

Shauna - Her by Burberry

Notes: Red and dark berries, jasmine, sensual musk-amber

Scent type: Musky florals

Taissa - Replica (Jazz Club) by Maison Margiela

Notes: Pink pepper, rum absolute, vanilla, tobacco leaf absolute

Scent type: Woody spices

Jackie - Flora (Gorgeous Magnolia) by Gucci

Notes: Floral, coconut, fruity, dewberries, magnolia

Scent type: Fruity florals

Van - Ode to Dullness by Juliette Has a Gun

Notes: Sandalwood, amber, freesia, floral musk

Scent type: Warm and sheer

[dance-in-the-morning-glow]

As someone who is very much into (indie and niche) fragrance and Pirates of the Caribbean, here are my scent picks for some characters absolutely nobody asked for:

Elizabeth Swann: Juliette Has A Gun - Vanilla Vibes (Sea salt, natural vanilla absolute, orchid absolute, absolute brown musk, bezoin absolute, sandalwood, tonka bean)

This is basically just a salty vanilla perfume and I’m all here for it; it’s beachy, light and totally pre-Pirate King Elizabeth.

For more of an indie choice, I’d pick Death & Floral’s “I could never stay long enough on the shore” (sand, salty air, smoke, cold coastline). It’s been a while since I’ve smelled this one but it feels fitting. But tbh, any white floral scent would also fit CotBP Elizabeth - so maybe something like Cloon Keen’s Lá Bealtaine.

Pirate King Elizabeth would absolutely rock something challenging like Beaufort’s Terror & Magnificence (birch tar, black pepper, saffron, incense, tobacco, papyrus, haitian vetiver, myrrh, labdanum, benzoin and pebbles).

Will Turner: Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab - Asleep in the Deep (black plum, sea salt, opium tar accord, labdanum, and indigo benzoin)

Basically the dark and heavy counterpart to Elizabeth’s Vanilla Vibes, truly smells like you’re on the Dutchman in between realms.

Jack Sparrow: For Jack, I feel like anything remotely boozy with rum notes works, but if I had to name one scent, I’d pick Stranger Perfumery’s Cigar Rum (raisin, dried fruits (prune and cherry), rum absolute, mandarin, amber, tobacco, oakwood, vetiver, resins, labdanum absolute, seaweed absolute). Maybe layer that with a dirt single note or Fantôme - Bune (damp subterranean air, nagarmotha, smooth cave walls, davana, a cold marble altar, & glittering green dragon scales) for authenticity lol.

Hector Barbossa: Solstice Scents - Headmaster (Apple, bourbon, oak, cedar, pipe tobacco, applewood, amber, spices)

I just felt like I needed to pick a spicy, woody scent with apple notes in it. But any dark aquatic works too.

James Norrington: I associate James with any light aquatic or clean scents (at least when he’s not in his Scruffington Era), so I’d choose something like Solstice Scent’s Gulf Breeze (Saltwater, sand, seashells, sea oats, rain, ambergris (vegan accord).

Cutler Beckett: Histoires de Parfums - 1740 (bergamot, mugwort, patchouli, coriander, cardamom, cedar, birch, labdanum, leather, vanilla, elemi, helichrysum)

Idk, this is just giving off Cutler Beckett energy. It’s boozy, it’s rich, it’s dramatic.

And somehow The House on Widow’s Hill (brandy, old oak paneling, dusty thick carpets, a thread of incense & a roaring fire in the hearth) by Pulp Fragrance also fits. That one’s basically brandy, smoke and dusty carpets in a bottle. On second thought, that might also work for Papa Swann.

I also feel like a tea scent would suit Beckett, but only if it’s a bit heavier, so maybe something like Gris Charnel by bdk (fig, black tea, cardamom essence, iris absolute, bourbon vetiver, indian sandalwood, tonka bean absolute). …But I haven’t smelled that one in a while too.

Davy Jones: Zoologist - Squid (Pink Pepper, Solar Salicylate, Incense, Black Ink Accord, Salty Accord, Opoponax, Ambergris, Benzoin, Musk)

Pretty self-explanatory. On my skin, it’s very musk-forward though.

Ian Mercer: Beaufort - Tonnerre (smoke, gunpowder, blood, brandy, sea spray and citrus)

…Yeah, I guess that one’s also pretty self-explanatory.

Yup, that’s it. Make of that what you will.

(Here’s an updated list bc I have zero chill.)

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “Stacey’s Mom has got it going on” — Gojo Satoru

Synopsis: You can’t help eyeing your daughter’s pretty boyfriend when he’s just so sweet, and he can’t help himself either when you’re the best he would ever find.

— word count: 4.2k

— A/n: idk if this qualifies as dc (I don’t think so) but it has like, idk age gap and cheating concepts so take care

— warnings: smut!! MDNI!! Age gap (Gojo is 20 and you’re bordering late 30s); cheating; sort of asshole representative? But how else would something like this work; hair pulling; body worshipping; oral (f! Receiving); dub-con (slightly?); Satoru is a shit boyfriend to your daughter; hinted domestic abuse; mentions of scars; almost subby! Satoru? (There’s no definite concept of who’s dominant- and if satoru then a lot of soft dom); slight spitting; riding; simultaneous orgasm

21-7, Shinjuku 3-chome, Shinjyuku, Tokyo.

He had the address memorised, down to the number of windows in your house and the exact shade of the monotonous white your husband had deemed “minimalist”.

19 he was now, you stood at an elegant 37—arriving in the vicinity at an estimated 5 years ago, your husband’s property, he’d guessed.

Gojo Satoru was 14 when he first saw you, puberty making its way into the young boy’s mind—you did none but encourage the certain downfall in the way you tapped his cheek when he offered to help you in carrying the many bags.

Over the years, Satoru saw you a lot, and also, didn’t at all.

Satoru saw you in the afternoon haze, dealing with the heat—staring obnoxiously when you took off your floral shirts, standing in front of him in those tight leggings and tank tops—but he also saw you at times that you didn’t know about.

And when he didn’t see you physically, you were present on his mind.

At least up until his 18th birthday, you knew of his presence when he would come to meet you.

What had begun as an innocent tap on his cheek for being adorable had developed into an innocent friendship on your accords, smiling wide every few months when he would zoom past your house on his cycle.

The routine was simple then, left-right-right-left, 15 minutes of a way from his house, and there he would be, at your gate—somehow always when you had grocery to carry.

The routine was simple now too, 11 p.m. he would sneak out of his dorm room, a smirk on his face as he used his infinity—making his way into your house, all so quietly, to watch your pretty face as you slept—sometimes even snickering when he caught you being fucked by your husband, snickering at that bored expression on your face, knowing just how much better he could treat you.

He’d never been inside however, general courtesy to be shown, not as a kid—never yet as an adult.

Back then you’d giggled when a 17 year old Gojo had brought his shy friend to meet you, both their cycles parked outside your house as you tended to their boyish smirks, he doubted you’d giggle knowing that the same friend, Geto, was the one he sent your pictures to when he found you sleeping.

But Satoru wasn’t dumb, he knew you’d realise at some point and so, he did what he had to.

In his head, it was all your fault too, so oblivious to everything that he had to choose the second best, your daughter.

“I know she’s like hot and what not but you gotta let her go dude,” Suguru’s voice was a drag—partially dry from all the alcohol he’d consumed.

Satoru’s 20th birthday was approaching, a week left, the celebrations of course had to last a month.

Satoru chuckled beside his best friend—almost wasted he noted—“it’s not like I wanna fuck her or something,” he grinned, he knew wanted to, he knew he possibly couldn’t, “it’s just, I could treat her so much better you know? That stupid little house-”

Suguru smirked, “-don’t bring money into it you pervert,” his eyes bore into his best friend’s, “her daughter ain’t that bad ya know,”

Satoru snorted at that, “which is exactly why I went for her too,”

Just at that, Geto snorted too—mindlessly, shamelessly, both of them.

-ring!!

Slow, both their eyes panned onto Satoru’s phone, ‘my love’ the screen flashed, Suguru snorted again, “Ironic,”

With a roll of his eyes and a short smirk, he shook his head—knowing she’d only be calling because she was needy, at least that’s all he remembered her to be.

“Mmhmm baby, gonna drop by in half an hour yeah? Yeah, yeah, miss you too, bye,”

He always sounded sweet- that was what your daughter rambled about, Satoru Gojo was the sweetest guy ever, and you were glad mostly, a little jealous? You weren’t sure.

It just wasn’t something you ever had.

As Satoru got up to leave though—“you ever let your girl go though, hit me up alright?”

Satoru eyed his best friend with a grin- that was something he could do—“have our own fucked up family eh?”

“Satoru?” You smiled, “long time honey,”

‘For you’, he thought, smiling smugly, “I keep you in well wishes all the time so, not so much Ma’am,”

You chuckled at his words—ever the gentleman he’d been, “that’s adorable, is that how you charmed my daughter too?”

His heart ached at that—only a little however, no, it was all only for you, all the charm—all for his only woman.

Thoughts flashed onto his own girlfriend, he remembered the night well—it wasn’t much, her 16th birthday, he’d just turned 17 too— he’d dropped by, getting you those medicines you’d requested a week or so ago—they were only found near his vicinity, he could only oblige.

Curiosity often killed ended up killing the cat.

-

He’d racked his brain, he thought of it for endless nights—he didn’t want to accept it, not so easily, not when you made it seem simple.

Each of what you’d asked him to get was a pain killer.

He’d disliked your husband before, but since after, he was sure he hated him.

That night, he’d sat outside your house with your daughter, she was smoking—he was used to it, he hated the smell.

“Aren’t you too young to be smoking?” He’d teased, exactly how he used to Suguru and Shoko—except she didn’t entertain the jokes, never had, never would.

However, before a mean retort could fall off of her lips, a crash sounded all too loud.

Not accidental, Satoru knew that.

He was quick to get up, he was no hero, but his life be sworn if he let you suffer such—a hand held him back.

“Don’t get into it,” she warned, your daughter did.

He didn’t, it wasn’t his place to.

Your husband cheated that night, as he had countlessly, your daughter found her first boyfriend—you wept that night, Satoru’s heart did too.

-

“Can’t lie I keep a special bank reserved for my uh…mature ladies,” a wink he passed, he made you feel young, alive.

A shake of a head you passed and a knowing laugh.

You noted his lingering gaze, the bruise on your forearm ever present, never you said a word- never him.

The silence engulfing and nauseating.

“Your uh,” his words were rough, “anniversary yeah? Round the corner isn’t it?”

You giggled, almost as if it mattered, “So he remembers? And your own, isn’t it?” A look of slight confusion masked your face, he grinned, “a week after yours, it’s my birthday though, on the same day that is, you always mess it up,”

An apologetic smile you passed this time around, “why, I’m sorry, let me make up by baking you a pie honey?”

A thin smile adorned his face—shaking his head, he ushered you back in, waiting patiently for your daughter to bounce back, to remind him of his reality.

But just as you did turn, “wait, by the way,” his eyes lay stuck upon the bruises you didn’t care to hide, “how’re things going?”

His eyes gazed upon the sheer material of your shirt, “how’s…Mr Y/l/n?”

Almost a sneer, as if, you stared, “perfectly fine, Toru—how’re things with Y/d/n?”

He stared blankly this time around—“perfectly fine Ma’am.”

-

“Pass me the lighter,”

Satoru stared at his best friend’s outstretched hands—your daughter’s pretty smile as she handed him hers—the same smile that had intrigued Satoru to even look at her, the only feature on her face that resembled you.

“What are your plans for the anniversary?” The words registered in Satoru’s ears—he wasn’t sure who the speaker was, he didn’t exactly care, “I could help around your house,” a mutter, as if unsure to why—but certain that he wanted to.

Cocked brows looked at him confused, “…isn’t it your 20th birthday though?”

He nodded.

“Who wastes their 20th birthday helping around random houses?” Suguru’s tone was almost annoyed, as if he knew—or could’ve guessed why.

Satoru’s girlfriend laughed, “You know he’s screwed a little right? Can’t stop him if he doesn’t want to,”

Satoru nodded again—it gutted him onto how well she bothered to know him—and yet, he perhaps didn’t even bother knowing her favourites most of the time.

“No no,” head shaking, a grimace fell onto Suguru’s face, “pretty boy here can do whatever he wants,” a knowing look they both passed—“but 20s don’t happen again, go big or go home,”

Satoru chuckled, of course he had it all planned out, “I’m going big and going home,”

Another charming smile, another wink—just something you couldn’t become a fool too.

A slight frown rested on your lips, “You sure hon? You don’t have to waste your evening like this…”

It was almost motherly, the way you showed concern—in ways Satoru had barely experienced.

He scoffed, “Time well spent is never wasted,”

“You’re going to mow a lawn baby,” you chuckled, “y/d/n isn’t home either- you know her sleepover- I don’t see how-”

“-anything to please and help you is almost the best kind of work I could do,” you’d have smiled usually, at his words—a tiny flirt you always deemed him—laughing about it to your husband, even though he barely cared.

You didn’t care of it either, an empty marriage, so be it—hollowed from both ends, slow.

But this time, this was different.

This time you’d perhaps bask in his help—no husband to taunt by complimenting little Satoru, no daughter to tease by complimenting little Satoru.

Satoru wasn’t all so little, you realised—your daughter and husband weren’t home—just you, Satoru and his praises.

-

6 p.m. — 7 p.m. — 8 p.m.

Satoru didn’t remember a time to the when he’d done all so much work for his own mother- but he was content, with a pair of earphones and a creative little mind, he was intent to impress you.

It amused him, to actually how big of a lawn you actually did have—and he wondered at the almost pristine look of it if you managed it yourself.

Even if you did, he would be your helping hand now—he grinned ear to ear as he thought the countless many scenarios.

‘Desperate’ , a little voice in his head called—“my pretty good boy” your voice, the one you used in his thoughts, fought away all doubts.

But all to quick his train of thoughts paused, “you missed a spot there Toru’”

And most of the time, he’d be pissed on to anyone who dared to correct him—with you he’d nod obediently and carry on—but normally, even your normally, you didn’t step out in front of him in just a small, pretty pink towel wrapped around you.

Satoru Gojo had pretty eyes, a decent imagination too—he’d thought about you plenty of times.

Naked, spread open, on your knees, having him between your knees—many and every and any position but absolutely nothing could’ve compared to the way seeing you covered just enough—in a small towel got him hard.

Satoru Gojo had pretty eyes and for a second they were wide as saucers.

His eyes panned onto the spot you pointed at—he had indeed missed a spot—he nodded slowly.

The music rang in his ears—

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Ironic.

“I’ll get to it, going for a bath?”

It shouldn’t have been that casual—him asking you your schedule such—you let it be so.

“It’s getting late, want to stay the night? And yeah—yeah, a bath,”

Stay the night.

There the offer lay and his temptation—he watched the careless way you held the towel, all so small that decency was the only thing that stopped him from staring shamelessly at your exposed thigh.

“I don’t know-”

An attempt, simply a stupid attempt to save him and you—“-I insist and what song is that?”

He stared blankly, “Stacey’s mom,”

“How I love that song,”

Of course you did- he watched you walk away as the song continued playing.

Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn?

Your mom came out with just a towel on

I could tell she liked me from the way she stared

And the way she said

"You missed a spot over there"

Down the drain, his character, perhaps yours—then relationships you’d held, everything.

Another nod.

-

“I’m staying the night Suguru,”

“Hah?!”

An eye roll, an obnoxiously pitched questionnaire, “The fuck? It’s your damn birthday tomorrow—why did you make me get that damn cake?”

Jaw clenched, he stared at the recently mowed lawn—10:00 p.m.

It was too late.

“Better get a taste of her damn pussy if you’re staying the night fucker,”

Satoru shook his head, a smile, “Shut up, talk about her nicely,”

“I’ll talk to her nicely when your girlfriend talks to me nicely when I’m dicking her down, really got yourself a brat huh?”

The smirk was evident in his tone- Satoru wanted to feel betrayed, he couldn’t.

“You’re such a bloody fucker,” he muttered through, “Take care of her,”

“Always have—you take care of her damn mom,”

And he always had too.

-

10:15 p.m.

He found it simply, weird, that you were in the shower all so long—shaving?

It was your anniversary tomorrow, a loyal wife, a good wife—you’d present yourself well—he thought.

He wasn’t entirely wrong either, was he?

Foggy, your bathroom mirrors stood as you prepared yourself just right, shaven smooth—a guilty heart panged in your chest.

You watched the many scars lingered upon your body, natural, provided—all yours and you doubted it, doubted the mere fact that Satoru would even think about touching you the way you fantasised.

It was wrong—just a fortnight ago and he was the sweet boy you used to adore and having by, just a week ago he was the boyfriend of your daughter that made your relationship all the more insecure, just tonight he was growing into his age.

Head hung back, you stared at the ceiling- so wrong and so right.

Almost melancholic, your train of thoughts was, and his too as he sat by the window of your room—“Please clean these windows too,” you’d said with a smile, breasts pushed together as you held your hand in front of you—the little pink towel did nothing, you knew that.

His hard-on was obvious, you’d had that effect on guys all the time—but then, maybe it wasn’t for you, maybe he just saw the sight and it reminded him of- maybe-

“God~ fuck-!”

Your ears perked up, maybe that was a moan.

Not maybe, it was—it was all too certain a breathy moan.

And before the better judgement was to be passed, there you were, the pink towel wrapped around all the more perversely as you twisted the knob of the door—entering your room to the prettiest sight in a while that you’d seen.

“Satoru?”

Eyes all so wide, the ministrations came to an immediate halt—“Mrs- Mrs- I- shit,”

You watched him scramble about, struggling to get the pants that he’d pulled down to his ankles, back in place—pale cheeks tinted with the embarrassment he held-“I’ll leave right now,” and you knew your figure standing about, almost naked, did not help.

A giggle you passed, “Satoru, it’s fine baby, what’re you so embarrassed about?”

That, he didn’t expect, neither did you.

A low ‘huh’ dropped from his mouth,a hardened cock hanging out for you to ogle at.

“Yes I mean,” you continued, slowly moving towards him, “it’s all…natural isn’t it? You’re a big boy now too,” your voice was sweet as honey, pulling him, reeling him in.

He watched, estranged, as you swayed your hips, moving in, pulling him—pushing him and there he lay in your bed.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

“Tell me Satoru,” you whispered, nimble fingers grasping the hem that covered you—“are you all grown up? Still my big boy?”

A silent nod, your towel fell.

A smile etched across your face as you saw his mouth widen-“l-like what you see?”

A slight stutter, you were nervous too—just as him.

And it was entirely a surprise to you then, when his were the hands that grasped your hips rough—flipping the both of you over so he was on top.

Lips attached to your neck—his hands ran wild as they explored every bit of you—“So much, so so much, you’re gorgeous,”

Frenzied moans, hefty touches—it was almost as he’d been dying to touch you—and he had.

His lips moved fast—faster than his fingers, moving across every inch of you—a slight tingle you felt as wet and sloppy kisses he left across your shoulder blades, your hands tugging at the white tuft of his hair.

“So soft,” he murmured against your skin— “so fuckin pretty,” he was skillfull, almost, in the way he managed to completely disregard your needs in the moment.

Not a single brush of his fingers or crotch against your pussy—a tease.

You wanted to cry, pleasure hit you hard—and in the way he lingered seconds too long upon every scar that your husband had given you, at every bruise that you held—in the way he handled you so carefully, not as if you were fragile but as if you were his desire personified.

“Tell me, Satoru,” you snickered, at the breathy moans he let out, “how long have you waited for this,”

“Forever,” he breathed out—the crystal blue eyes finally met you then, “God forbid I just- please, please let me?” A whine he let out still, so desperate.

“Always this needy hm?”

He shook his head fast, “Only for you,”

And you knew that just there he was begging all so easily.

“Please- ple-ase,” his voice was a drag, as if afraid that he’d lose this moment all so soon, “please let me…let me touch you- feel you,”

A twinkle in your eye, “if you’re good, yeah?”

He bobbed his head at that- “on your knees for me baby,”

And that he did, so obedient, “Show me how much you’ve yearned,”

It was a dynamic, if anything—you held the control surely, and you lay naked too—sprawled out as your head rested upon the pillows steadily, his between the plush of your thighs.

An airy gasp you let out as you felt him spit upon it, “fuck you’re glistening,” he whined, “So wet from just the thought of me?”

You felt his fingers spread your folds out, he felt so cold against the warmth of your pussy, “Didn’t even need me to spit huh? But had to mark you didn’t I? Remind you that I am the one who gets you this way- has your husband ever gotten you this way huh?”

His words seemed almost feral, a growl with every word as he kept lowering his head— he focused upon your clit.

Your legs lay spread wide open for him, one his hands resting upon your thigh, rubbing soft soothing circles—while the hand finger fucked you.

His finger slipped in so easily, a groan both of you let out together, “so fucking warm I- your pussy’s pratically begging to be ruined,”

You squirmed at his words—already dumb at the way his middle and ring finger pumped inside of you,

“More please,” you moaned out, “need more,”

A smirk he held as he lowered his lips, nipping at your pussy lips, “More what Ma’am? More of what hm?”

A loud whine you let out at his word- “Fuck Toru’ not tonight, please just touch me—want you,”

Enough encouragement, in fact it was all he needed before landing his tongue flat upon your clit, swiping it back and forth upon the little nub.

“Scream my name please,” rough hands pulled at your legs—resisting you from closing your legs—“Arch your back and scream my name, let your neighbours know I’m the one in your silly fucked marriage that gets you so worked up and not that fucker,”

His words barely registered in your head—thrashing at the liable pleasure he held onto you, “Sh-it Toru’ I- right there! Yes please,”

He grinned as he looked up at your face briefly, before diving right back in, suckling at your hardened clit as his fingers prepared your cunt to be ruined by his cock.

“God I should film you being so needy for me,” another groan as his tongue lapped upon your core—“should teach em how to please the perfection you are,”

You whimpered at his words, eyes rolling back at the way he provided just the right kind of pressure- until you weren’t.

A loud whine and groan as he pulled out of your cunt, he grinned, “Want you to cum on my cock when you do — wanna feel you clamp down hard,”

You looked into his eyes, hesitant? Neither of you.

“Taste yourself,” and before you could pull away, shoved into your mouth were his two fingers as you sucked onto it—“Fuckin’ delicious,” he muttered as he pulled away the fingers too.

Needy, he wanted you needy.

Slow, he moved about, rising about and pulling you with him as he kissed your arms—“someday, I’ll leave such pretty marks on you, those are the ones you deserve,”

You bit your lips hard- he did too, as you straddled his lap—“please,” he whimpered and you giggled, “how many times do you think about this?”

All the time.

Any and everytime he was alone, just you on his cock bouncing to chase your euphoria.

You cupped his face as you stared at him, such a pretty innocent look he held—you grinned devilishly as you lined your entrance upon his tip.

"yeah. 'think about it a lot. want you to use me, please, just have me. i'm y — ohhh god, oh fuck me, y-yes please — fuck i'm yours!" his words, bound to be a mess now that you've lowered yourself to meet level with his cock.

It throbbed inside you, it looked so pretty, when you imagined sucking on it— with that curve you always felt pressing against your walls when he would be balls deep inside your pussy- just as now.

“Tell me Toru,” you but down in your lips hard, red, “how many times do you think?”

He gulped hard as he watched you move, unable to hold himself as your warmth spread all over his cock, “J-just some- sometimes, when I- I miss you, when I c-can’t get enou- oh god- can’t get enough,”

He moaned softly, head fallen aback and eyes shut close as you rode him slow, rolling your hips—it took your all to just not give in and fuck yourself dunb over his cock.

“In the shower…after- after practice,”

You giggled at his words, oh how you felt like a filthy girl in the moment, “all sweaty and dirty? Think bout fuckin me in shower?”

“Yeah…” his voice lay a rasp, “think bout you when I’m alone,”

Your words, actions—he was dizzy with pleasure, legs squirming beneath you—toes curling in pleasure and hips stuttering as he reeled in for more.

“Think of you when I fuck your daughter too,” and just at that he thrusted harshly into you, gripping your hips as he moved you fast—“you’re too slow,” he grunted.

A low moan escaped you at his words—him too.

Filthy.

Wrong.

You didn’t care.

"d-you think of me too, when- when you can’t touch it? When it- it d-doesn’t feel right?" his question almost sounded innocent, eager to hear your response.

"Course’ i do. think about my pretty boy all the time. i miss this cock so bad sometimes, 'can't get off the same with any of my toys."

He groaned at that—you could feel him twitching inside you.

11:55 p.m.

You weren’t sure when or how you lost all that time- it didn’t matter.

It was your anniversary in 5 minutes and his birthday.

Your hands grabbed his face and pulled him close—your boobs thrusted into his face, “cum with me ok? Hold on just a pretty while yeah?”

Your words were a lullaby to him, he nodded mindlessly, attaching his lips onto your nipples, swiping his tongue over your nipples.

Your soaking cunt engulfed his cock as you bounced upon it, head hung back as you chased your high—his hands kneaded your skin—one pinching your nipples while the other massaged your ass.

If you could, you’d have seen the adoration in his eyes as you fucked your self onto him—breathy moans and shy grunts, the smell of your sex wafted through the air.

Just another minute.

“S-So good to me-” He stutters, nails latching onto your skin to bounce you more aggressively on his cock as his flustered state slowly dissipates.

So close, both of you—a babbling mess underneath you,Satoru was purely pussy drunk—and just like that, the clock strung 12:00 a.m.

You both drew each other’s orgasm.

You stay there on top of him for a second, panting and heaving you both lay—nuzzling as his fingers drew circles on the small of your back.

Circles, you weren’t aware, those circles were actually his name crafted carefully upon your skin for he knew you were finally his.

“You good?”

A slight smile on your face as you asked him, he lay beside you in your bed—“Happy Birthday Toru,”

“Best birthday I’ve had,”

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