#wip: i saw the dimples first and then

[ninzied]

wip wednesday

In the following days, all Alex can think about is him. Henry. Henry with the face that looks it could start a war. Henry with the high cheekbones, the full pink lips and remarkably broad shoulders. Henry with the dip in his waist that looks so damn soft Alex would give away his own hand to be able to touch him there just once.

Henry in his beauty, and in his bashfulness too. Henry and the brave tilt of his chin that Alex wants to bite into somehow.

Henry, who is also Lord Henry Mountchristen.

Alex has heard the name before. The Mountchristen family are more or less royalty here, ruled by their ailing grand matriarch. There’s an older brother, who’s recently married and thus assumed all the responsibilities of landowning. This has left Henry—the spare, as Pez fondly refers to him—to pursue his own interests, which are primarily philanthropic in nature.

His posing nude at clandestine social gatherings definitely serves the greater good, as far as Alex is concerned.

tagged by:

@kiwiana-writes @suseagull04 @cha-melodius @piratefalls ♡

tagging:

@anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @carrythesky @celeritas2997 @eusuntgratie

@firenati0n @garglyswoof @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @nocoastposts @notspecialbabe @priincebutt

@onthewaytosomewhere @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @theprinceandagcd @wordsofhoneydew

[loucifersbitch]

wasn't tagged by anyone, just wanted to share from the wip i've been working on 💚 affectionately called The Kink Club Fic

*editing to add, I was tagged by @loveyouanyway 💚✨

Buck’s leg hasn’t stopped bouncing, and he makes a conscious effort to relax and be still. He wants this. He knows he wants this. He’s 31 years old, has recently come to realize his jealousy of other men was actually attraction, and he wants - no, he needs a man to take him apart. Almost as if on cue, the door handle on the opposite side of the room turns. The fluttery feeling in Buck’s belly becomes a full swarm when the man walks in. He had seen the man around the club before he took his year-long break, but he’d never allowed himself to actually look.  The first thing he notices is that the man is tall. Really tall. As tall as Buck himself, if not taller. He’s also broad in a way that Buck has always admired but never tried to achieve. And he’s very attractive with bright blue eyes and a strong jaw. Buck’s eyes follow the line of that jaw until he gets to the cleft in the man’s chin. He feels himself twitch in his boxers, and the man hasn’t even walked into the room properly.  Buck’s mouth is suddenly dry, and he hears his throat click when he tries to swallow. His dom comes fully into the room, closing the door behind himself. His eyes lock with Buck’s, and a soft smile spreads across his face. Maybe he recognizes Buck, too. He can’t seem to find his voice to ask at the moment.

“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice deeper than Buck expected.  Buck tries to respond, but it comes out as more of a squeak. He clears his throat, and finally stutters out, “H- hi.” The dom’s smile grows, and Buck notices he scrunches up his nose and crinkles appear at the outer corners of his eyes. And he has dimples. Oh, Buck is so fucked. He sits stock still and tries to keep breathing as the dom walks toward him, eyes never leaving Buck’s. He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of Buck, not touching, but Buck can feel his body heat through the fabric of his jeans. The dom tilts his head, considering. Buck can hardly breathe at the intensity in his eyes. Then he’s stepping forward and settling himself between Buck’s thighs. Buck’s breath hitches as the dom places two fingers under his chin to tilt his face up. The dom leans in, stopping when his nose is nearly touching Buck’s. “Have you eaten recently?” Buck takes a few seconds to process what his dom had said. That was not what he was expecting. “Uh, wh- what?” The dom only smiles and repeats his question. “Have you eaten recently? You look a little pale.” “Oh, uh,” Buck stutters, “I - I think an hour ago? I ate before I left work.” “You ate before you left work -,” his dom repeated, leaving the end of the sentence open. “S- sorry, uh - I ate before I left work, sir.” His dom smiles softly, then says, “Good boy.” A pleasant shiver runs down Buck’s spine at the praise. “Always eat before we scene. I don’t want you coming in when you’re hungry, okay?” his dom continues on, his thumb brushing across Buck’s lower lip. “Yes, sir,” Buck says. He sounds breathless already, and he would be embarrassed, but this guy is mesmerizing. Plus he doesn’t seem the type to make fun of him for it. In fact, his eyes only seem to get warmer. His thumb finishes its trek across Buck’s lip, then slips forward to rest on his lip and pauses, eyebrows lifting as if asking for permission. Buck nods minutely, and the thumb slides into his mouth, bypassing his teeth to sit on his tongue. The dom doesn’t press down, he just lets it sit there for a minute, studying Buck’s reaction. Not one to pass up an opportunity, Buck seals his lips around his dom’s thumb, sucking gently. His dom hums in approval, his eyes darkening further. “I saw you wrote on your form that you have an oral fixation,” he says, his voice somehow dropping even further. Buck gives a quiet, “mhm,” around the digit in his mouth. He’s not going to deny it. He knows full well that it’s true. To drive the point home, he runs his tongue along the pad and then around the tip of the thumb. A small gasp escapes between his dom’s lips, and Buck smirks. Then his mouth is suddenly empty. His dom takes a purposeful step back and says, “Strip and kneel.”

[sommerregenjuniluft]

something something day of the week snippet

helo tumblr *wrings hands* i've been a little mia recently especially in tag thingies because we've not been doing too hot mentally but alas here i am :p

@grimsneverendingfuneral tagged me (kissing u) in a mouthwatering rosekiller wip snippet and i saw saints' too so i thought i'd just keep the theme going so have some Ant Pile (btw i'm trying to finish this until my birthday so mid february! fingers crossed you get everything of this soon)

Evan hits him upside the head making Barty growl. “Well, bitch boy, maybe. Since it seems you like to do that so fucking much.” 

“Dickface.”

“Bitch boy.”

“You–” and then Barty’s upper lip pulls back and- oh, fuck no.

“Ay! Don’t fucking bite me again, B,” Evan rears his arm back and out of reach, “I swear to– get the fuck off.”

Barty snarls, teeth bared in a too wide smile, cheeks crinkling with stretched dimples. Evan is only mildly obsessed with them whenever they pop out.

That’s probably the reason Barty gets the opportunity to make a swift grab for his wrists and pin them over his head. They scramble against each other, trying to win the upper hand as their legs wriggle, slip, knees knocking, and then Barty is suddenly perched on his chest, straddling his torso and sinking his teeth into the soft underside of Evan’s forearm.

He cries out through clenched teeth, more startled than hurt, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting like a motherfucker as Barty’s jaw stays clamped shut around Evan’s flesh.

There’s a sucked in breath against Evan’s skin, sounding excited, and there must be some kind of blood flow interruption because his head gets a little dizzy then.

It draws a noise out of him, body involuntarily starting to squirm and eventually prompting Barty to let up.

The first thing Evan feels is relief which is promptly inundated. Another noise punching out of him, a pained hiss when the marked skin starts throbbing. 

Barty above him gives a pleased chuckle, then a wet slurping noise, collecting the spit back up into his mouth. 

Another throb, whole-body, and Evan groans.

Barty adjusts on top and leans down again.

Evan’s eyes fly open, frantically wiggling to get away but Barty’s grip is iron and then there’s something warm-wet. Pleasant.

Evan blinks and tips his head back, something lodging in his throat when he watches Barty lap over the teeth indents with his tongue. Warm and careful, a soothing gesture. 

He doesn’t slobber on it, rather alternating between long swipes with the flat of his tongue and little kitten licks. Until Barty makes a small sound and then his lips come down over the marred skin too.

Soft pressure, damp lips coming down randomly over and over again, here and there and over there, too.

A constant, recurring puff of breaths spilled over Evan’s sensitive skin, much too gentle in the face of the firm way Barty’s hand still holds him down by the wrists.

“B,” Evan chokes out when he feels some of the returning blood rushing south too.

His friend grunts, not really in acknowledgement but more in a dismissive let me cook here way and Evan bites down hard on his lower lip. That doesn’t help him suppress the startled moan though when Barty suddenly sucks the pulsing skin into his mouth.

Adam’s apple bobbing and holding the patch of skin in his mouth, cheeks hollowing and takes everything in Evan not to buck his hips when he feels himself twitch in his pants.

Evan’s voice is so husky he barely recognizes it himself when he strangles out, “Barty, you gotta let go.”

The skin pops out of his mouth with a wet smacking noise and Evan feels positively stupid as he watches Barty’s lips come down for one more gentle kiss like he just can’t help himself.

Barty sits back, still kind of looking at Evan like he wants to eat him, hands sliding off his wrists and Evan barely refrains from whimpering.

“Fuck, I hate you. You’re insane,” he pants, feeling where Barty is hard against his stomach, “Why was that hot?”

“Dunno,” Barty responds, eyes still glazed and staring down at Evan with something akin to awe. “Kinda wanna do that to your neck now.”

i have lost any concept of time and as mentioned been not too active so apologies if youve been tagged in one of these fairly recently lol <3 @stagpdf, @static-radio-ao3, @itsjaywalkers, @rottin6, @veryinnovative, @messrsage, @maliceofminds, @lemndrps, @214lilacsky, @regscupid, @xjustakay, @standardlovers and @kaleidoscopexsighs

[gumnut-logic]

This is a very old WIP that I thought I would post for @idontknowreallywhy as she likes to drop things on Scotty.

I blew him up and Virgil was not impressed.

Warning for very much not finished WIP from 2020 that probably has been read by some of you before, possibly several times. Also, everyone gets whumped.

-o-o-o-

Scott Tracy had an amazing smile. His dimples were legendary and those blue eyes of his certainly added their own sparkle to the equation.

And the commander of International Rescue, President of Tracy Industries and all out billionaire was very much aware of the power he wielded with that simple facial gesture.

He was a ladykiller.

Well, perhaps not quite a ‘killer’. More a ‘I’ll do whatever you want if you will just keep smiling at me’ lethal mouth muscle wielder. Or so Gordon claimed.

Gordon’s descriptive skills weren’t one of his strengths.

It was also an excellent tool out in the field. Male or female, when that smile was directed at a person in charge, they either melted and did whatever Scott wanted them to do.

Or the opposite.

The ratio of the non-receptive vs receptive to that smile was definitely a low number versus a much higher one, but unfortunately, today they had encountered one such person.

And they were being a real pain in the ass.

Virgil would have been on Two, but no negotiation on Scott’s part was convincing the mine manager that International Rescue knew what it was doing.

They were down to technical facts and time was growing shorter by the moment.

Two was hovering above with Gordon on board while Virgil rappelled down to discuss engineering concepts with this idiot and convince him that the great Thunderbird was not going to make the situation worse.

Scott was steaming.

Virgil appeared to be nearing boiling point himself and that was quite a feat on the manager’s part. Virgil had battled Fischler without a blink, for crying out loud.

The conversation had slipped into engineeringese quite early on and most of the concepts were beyond Scott, leaving him edgy and worried about the miners trapped below.

Thunderbird One was parked not far away and his eyes wandered in that direction before skipping back to the mine entrance.

Just in time to see someone slip under the warning tape and start climbing over the collapsed debris.

Scott was moving without thought. “Hey! Get out of there! It’s not safe!”

The suspect turned, saw him and disappeared inside the cliff face.

What the hell?

Scott made it to the tape before the manager started yelling.

The commander ignored him and poked his comms. “Thunderbird Five, can you give me an updated scan of the mine. An idiot just entered-“

A flash, and the rock face exploded.

The blast hit Scott face on. He didn’t even have a chance to scream.

-o-o-o-

Virgil did.

The shockwave knocked him of his feet, the mine manager landing on top of him, but they were far enough away to only be pelted by the edges of the explosion.

Something solid hit Virgil’s left arm, numbing it from the elbow down. Beside him the manager screamed as a large chunk of rock landed on his foot.

Far above, Thunderbird Two deviated from her hover, banking off to the north only to circle back and begin her landing sequence nearby.

He felt her in his bones and it was only then he realised his eyes had fallen shut.

He forced them open.

Scott.

Scott had been closer.

Virgil struggled to his feet. The manager was writhing next to him, a rock pinning his ankle. A rock that would need his exosuit to move it.

Scott first.

Scott had been closer.

“Virgil, status!”

Virgil was running. He thumbed his comms as his legs closed the distance to where his brother had been. “John, I need Scott’s location.”

“Five metres to your left.”

There was rock everywhere, dust and haze obscuring everything. “Scott?”

A stumble and a flash of blue.

A gloved hand lay limp. Virgil skidded in beside it.

Scott hadn’t been wearing his helmet. After all, he was only negotiating Virgil’s entrance into the mine.

Dirt and blood on pale skin.

Medical assessment. “John, Scott’s unconscious.” His own gloved fingers touching dusty dark hair, gently searching for the source of the blood and the damage level. “Head injury.” His fingers encountered a dip in his brother’s skull that should not be there. “Possibly serious.”

His brother was breathing, his pulse strong, and Virgil thanked whoever or whatever protected their family for that mercy.

Gordon joined him, first aid kit in hand, while Virgil was inspecting the rest of his brother’s body for injury.

“What the hell happened?”

Virgil peeled back a gash in Scott’s uniform at his thigh to reveal another injury.

“I don’t know. Scan him while I get the exosuit.”

Gordon frowned at him. “What about you?” Carnelian eyes looked him up and down only to settle on his limp left arm. “How-“

“Worry about Scott. I have another victim to attend to.” He brushed his fingers across Scott’s baldric and stood up.

“Virgil-“

“The man’s pinned, Gordon. Time is of the essence. Look after Scott.”

He didn’t miss Gordon’s glare, but he did ignore it and with an indrawn breath, broke into a run towards Thunderbird Two.

-o-o-o-

He ended up taping his left arm into his exosuit. It was slapdash and done in a hurry using some of the electronic insulation tape he kept for emergency repairs. He could lift his arm, but his fingers had no strength or coordination. It was only for a matter of minutes. He had to lift the rock off the injured man. That was all.

His arm didn’t like the added weight in the slightest.

He’d live.

He ran from the module back to the pile of rubble dragging a couple of hover stretchers behind him. He tossed one in Gordon’s direction

By the time he reached the mine manager, Virgil’s numb arm was no longer numb. In fact, it was hurting like hell with every movement.

Lift the rock and he could shed the suit.

“What the hell have you been doing?!”

“Hold still, Mr Ginley.” Fortunately, it was his right hand that controlled the largest claw, but unfortunately, he had to use his left to steady the load as he lifted.

Ginley’s cry of pain as the rock was shifted hid Virgil’s own.

Sweat broke out on his forehead as the engineer let the rock fall harmlessly to one side. He found himself panting.

“It’s bleeding! It’s bleeding!” Ginley was pointing at his foot where the rock had gashed the bare skin of his shin. The man was wearing steel toed boots and the rock had apparently only pinned him rather than doing any extensive damage beyond grazing him.

“Thunderbird Two?”

“Yes, John.” Virgil stumbled back towards the stretcher and grabbed the medkit.

“I’m still reading one life sign within the mine.”

Virgil blinked. One.

There had been five. Plus the person Scott had tried to stop from entering

All that time talking.

But then he and his brothers had been underground during that explosion…

“How far down? Mole or exosuit?”

...

[warpedpuppeteer]

Fuck-it Friday

I have completed zero of my wips unfortunately. But here's some bits from one I'm currently obsessed with!! This one's a bit fucked up story- wise but I'm keeping it under wraps for the element of surprise.

⚠️⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️⚠️

violence, blood, stabbing, disturbing content

⚠️⚠️⚠️ WARNING ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Can't tell much without spoiling it but this scene depicts Buck forcing Eddie to kill his date 😀

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry”, he says hysterically, his hands shaking. Hands come up from behind him, covering both of his around the knife. Hot air on his ear. “Hold it still, Eddie. You want a nice clean stab. Hurts less that way”.

Tyler's eyes are wide, terrified. His mouth is covered with grey tape, wrists and ankles strapped down to the chair. The tape around his mouth is wet because he's started crying as well. There's a cut on his forehead bleeding lightly.

Eddie is pushed closer to Tyler, the body behind him a line of heat scorching his back. The hands steadily guide his shaking ones closer, and the blade sinks into Tyler's body like a hot knife on butter until the hilt.

He falls to his knees, hands still holding the handle because even now, his medical training kicks in. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!” Eddie's crying, sobbing really. He's forced to pull the knife back though, and blood spills over his hands, warm and viscous. He stares in horror, still holding the bloody knife that he just stabbed his date with.

He doesn't know how they ended up here. They were having a nice date at his place; Eddie had cooked again, getting the chicken recipe from Linda that she had sworn up and down would blow Tyler's socks off. He had shaved, put on a blue button down and worn his nice cologne. He had repositioned the vase of tulips on the table 6 different times.

When Tyler showed up, he had stood there by the door blinking at Eddie and going “wow”, making Eddie blush. Once inside, he had complimented the tulips and Eddie added the roses Tyler had gotten him to the vase, happy inside because this is the first time someone has gotten flowers for him.

The chicken had been as fantastic as Linda had promised; Tyler moaned appreciatively which he then got very embarrassed about, cheeks pink as Eddie grinned at him. He had hooked his ankle around Tyler's, letting him know he found his reactions cute.

They didn't have wine, because Eddie had a shift tomorrow and Tyler doesn't drink. He had made his Abuela’s famous lemonade instead. He was thinking about how to make the date longer- how to ask if Tyler would like to stay the night- when there had been a knock at the door

FOUR HOURS PRIOR

He jumps when he hears the knock, and Tyler looks at him questioningly. Eddie wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Can you excuse me for a moment, I'll see who that is”.

Tyler had nodded at him with a sweet dimpled smile. “Sure, go ahead”. Eddie couldn't help but lean down to press a kiss against Tyler's cheek as he passed him, Tyler's pretty green eyes sparkling at the act.

But it turns out, Eddie didn't have to excuse himself. Because before he could even leave the kitchen, someone walks through the entryway.

“Buck?” surprise marred his voice. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

Buck froze when he saw that someone else was in the kitchen. His eyes trailed from Eddie's head and down to his toes, making Eddie shift consciously.

Buck blinks at him, sheepish, “sorry, I didn't think you had…company”.

Of course by then Tyler had moved to stand closer to Eddie. Eddie sucks his bottom lip lightly. This isn't exactly how he wanted his best friend to find out. But what's done is done, he supposes.

“Uh Buck, this is Tyler, my date. And Tyler, this is Buck, my best friend”, he shifted his eyes from one man to another, gesturing at them for the introduction.

“Oh, Buck! I've heard so many great things about you from Eds, it's great to put a face to the stories!”, Tyler reaches out with his hand, his natural charm and bubbliness shining through.

Buck shakes his hand awkwardly, “Uh, thank you. I'd love to say the same but I wasn't really aware…of um…you”.

Tyler, god bless his sweet soul, laughs lightly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I'm the one who asked Eds to keep it down low for a bit”.

He didn't. Eddie is the one who had asked Tyler to keep it quiet for a bit because he wasn't really out yet. Not because he was worried about anything but it was nice, having this one secret thing for himself. His heart skips a beat at how sweet Tyler is.

Buck gives his customer service smile - the one he uses during calls with annoying and difficult-on-purpose victims- and nods. “Uh yeah, I totally get that man. I really am sorry for crashing your date though, I thought Eddie was alone so I let myself in with my key.”

Tyler politely doesn't ask why Buck has a key to Eddie's house, though Eddie thinks he's probably aware of how ridiculously codependent they both are from all the stories he's told him before anyways.

Usual disclaimer: Rough draft and unedited 🙏🏽

[adelaidedrubman]

it’s serving absolute wednesday

i was tagged on this particular wednesday by my dears @nightbloodbix @cassietrn @deputyash @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat to share a wip! (and by folks last week too i think but scrolling through notifs hard so apologies for any double tags for those who just posted and obviously no pressure).

unfortunately have not been able to write much this week due to the Week of it all, so fished up (haha) a hl&s chapter 4 excerpt i have already posted a little bit of before (if you saw it pretend i didn’t).

And she wore the wide, toothy grin of a bear with a fresh caught salmon between her paws as she shucked off her shirt, single auburn brow quirked up as she held it out to him as if offering food to a cub. “Think you can get dressed all by yourself like a big boy, too?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she thrust a hand against his chest to push him back flat against the fence again, shoving the collar over his head herself.  “I’ve got it from here,” he bit out, elbowing her away. “Thank you for all the unrequested manhandling.”

“Funny way of saying ‘emergency medical care,’” she grunted, crossing her arms over her barely covered chest. “And a fine of job of it, too, you could fucking add. You’ll still need to find a real doctor eventually to pluck out the fishing line and super glue everything back together, but I’m sure you can manage a few more weeks of not buying a new boat to afford the co-pay on glorified Elmer’s. So long as you’re up to date on your tetanus shots, everything’ll heal up just fine. I did good stitchwork.” “Go to a real doctor, you say?” he replied, forcing a hint of condescension back into his tone as he poked shaking arms through sleeves. “Does that mean you fancy yourself something of an amateur? A would-be? Perhaps a failed ambition, before you chose to cast your lot amongst trout and speeding tickets?” She flashed him a sweet, dimple framed smile clearly meant to exaggerate the straining of a patience she’d never actually once exercised.  “It means I’m someone who usually has to settle for doing my own first aid,” she chimed brightly, swinging her head away from him. “My fuckin’ condolences. I understand that must be a scary new experience for you.”  “So I shouldn’t use the satellite phone I’ve been hiding this entire time to summon the private jet I keep on retainer to fly me straight to the Mayo Clinic over this?” he hummed, sparing a brief, belated glance to the freshly-tended wound as he pulled the borrowed shirt down over his chest. She wasn’t wrong — she did well enough. The skin had the sheen of thorough cleaning, her stitchwork tight but precise in its binding. There had certainly been far worse done by his own immature hand in its day, faded silken webs of scarring memorializing unsteady job of a sewing needle and thread in the dark of his childhood bedroom forking out and framing the fresh set of stitches.  Mementos she’d also seen, it occurred to him in retrospect as he tugged the hem of the shirt down, stopping just below his navel to leave a small sliver of stomach exposed above his waistband. And perhaps that was the source of her arrogance about her own work — heartless, smug little thing she was.  Yes, he knew the likes of her, knew that every little act of seeming kindness was merely an opportunity to cruelly poke and prod for her own amusement. Right down to the shirt given off her back — still smelling of her, he noted, tilting his head down as he rubbed the fabric of the collar between his fingers to stir up the scent. 

sending tags out to @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @theresaruggedroad @just-another-wasteland-merc @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @belorage @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @ladyofedens-blog @miyabilicious @simplegenius042 @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @strafethesesinners @nuclearstorms @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @8bitpizzacoupons @strangefable @shallow-gravy @roofgeese @corvosattano + opt in here to be tagged + again, no pressure!

[bluecatwriter]

🤲 please share a snippet of your WIP

From my Jack/Arthur fic "Unworthy":

As Jack took another sip of his champagne, he scanned the crowd to see where Arthur was at the moment, and saw him tucked into a corner, speaking to a pretty young woman. Jack observed without much thought for a moment, looking at the girl's dark ringlets and her gauzy pastel pink dress. Then she said something, and Arthur laughed with such mirth that Jack lowered his drink and started paying closer attention. Even from over here, he could see the dimples on Arthur's cheeks, which did not show themselves except when his smile was genuine. The woman was laughing along with him now, and they continued talking, quite animately.  Jack sized her up, trying to absorb everything about her appearance and manner.... Jack's eyes flicked to Arthur, taking in the relaxed set of his shoulders, the delighted grin on his face, the way the lights glittered in his blue eyes as he looked at the young woman before him. He heard a roaring in his ears, a knot the size of a boulder forming in his chest. With a lurch, Jack stood up, and he was walking toward them before he even realized what he was doing. He walked steadily, trying to remember the correct muscles to engage in his face to put on a smile.  He came to a halt right beside Arthur, gazing fixedly at the girl, but his voice failed him. He couldn't speak, only stand there like a mute. The woman glanced uncomfortably at Jack, and Arthur followed her eyeline and turned to see him. "Oh, Jack!" he said. Jack stared at his face, looking for a blush. His cheeks were a little red— was he embarrassed, or was it just the drink? Typical of Arthur, he allowed no space for awkwardness, touching Jack's arm to guide him closer. "May I present Miss Clarke. Miss Clarke, my dear friend, Dr. John Seward." "Charmed," she said with that same winning smile. Jack meant to say something, but all he could do was shake her hand as a sense of dread poured over him, like tar that dripped over his head, slid down his shoulders, settled in a thick mat in his guts. 

Spoiler alert: Jack isn't jealous, he just thinks that Arthur should dump him (again). The last half of this chapter is giving me all sorts of trouble but the first half is nearly done.

Thanks so much for the ask!

(Ask game here)

[sopherfly]

WIP Wednesday {i saw you and i knew}

Okayyy we’re going to try this out and see how it goes. WIP Wednesday! A bit more from my chapter 2 draft of i saw you and i knew. Putting most of it under the cut in case folks don’t want to read spoilers!

P.S. I’m not saying asks about this will make me write it faster, but I’m not NOT saying that, either 💙🩵

Anakin’s thoughts come to a screaming halt when he sees the name Obi-Wan Kenobi flashing across the screen.

It takes him a moment to process that Obi-Wan is calling him, and another to remember that he’s actually supposed to answer. Nervous adrenaline makes his tongue feel thick in his mouth. He swallows, accepting the call and holding the phone to his ear.

“Obi-Wan,” he says, still a little out of breath. “Hi.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan greets, his voice frustratingly neutral. No hint at all of what kind of news Anakin is about to get. “Is this a bad time?”

“No! No, it’s fine.” Anakin sits down and leans back against the wall, brushing sweat-damp hair away from his forehead. His heart is racing. “Sorry, I probably sound kind of—I was just working on an acro routine.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, and Anakin closes his eyes against an absurd pang of longing. “Do you spend all of your days off at the studio?”

“Not all of them,” Anakin says, well aware that he puts in more weekend hours than any other Company 501 dancer. “I just enjoy dancing. It helps clear my head.”

“We have that in common. I could’ve benefited from an hour or two in a rehearsal room the last few days.”

“Oh?” Anakin tries not to sound strangled. After all, it’s only his entire world hanging in the balance. “Were you agonizing over that contract?”

“As a matter of fact, I was.” 

Anakin gets the distinct impression that Obi-Wan is smiling, teasing him with dimples and parted lips that he wishes he could see face to face. 

Come on, Obi-Wan, just tell me, he wants to say, but doesn’t. Put me out of my misery.

“And?” Anakin manages. He bites his lip, clutching the phone tighter.

“And,” Obi-Wan says slowly, “I signed it. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

[daincrediblegg]

teasing wips ask game: 🌈💧 ^_^

🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP.

This bit that I wrote some months ago always gets me... idk but tl;dr it's after a birthday dinner he hosts for Lady Terror during their first year iced in:

Francis saw her climb the ladder, watched as her skirt lifted into the beyond, and before Jopson could make to mother him, slid the cabin door shut. He felt, then, a violent surge within him, as he stood gazing upon the remnants of their supper with no music but the gentle creaking of the ship to accompany his thoughts. It was a feeling that he hadn’t realized had been absent these past few hours, but as he looked upon her place setting. What little scraps of fatty meat and cognac she had left behind, it occurred to him that perhaps it wasn’t the presence of this feeling that affected him so acutely now, but rather her absence…

He regarded this, staring at the amber swill that was left of her glass, glowing like a lighthouse beacon in the lamplight, then plucked it up, tipped it back, and swallowed. It was, as she had said, sweeter and brighter than the whiskey. But he would need more than that to drown the damnable thing that had curled its way back around his heart, at least, for tonight.

💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it’s gen.

*cracks knuckles* well, since you asked...

“James…” She whispered gently, cupping his dimpled cheek in the palm of her hand, where tears began to spill. He looked at her, his eyes brimming over and blinking, begging for more than he could ever ask. And then she kissed him. His eyes shut and overflowed, as if in pain. And there was, as the faint taste of blood bore itself on her tongue as she drew into him deeper. A few moments later, his hands were on her waist, keeping her there as though she might leave him if he did not. But she made no such move, her other hand reaching for the back of his neck, where his hair fell in gentle curls. 

Francis thought he should feel some touch of jealousy on such a sight. It would be the gentlemanly thing, for loving her as he did, after all. But he found he could not. In fact, he felt stirred by watching them, contented, even, somehow. It felt right to watch their mouths slot together, to watch as she held him in the same gentle way he’d known these past months. The way James wept to be held by her was something he understood all too well. But more than that, he wanted to join her. He wished to be as she was now, holding him, caressing him with hands and lips and tongues. He wondered if he could draw such a man out of James as she did out of them both. If he would weep to feel him.

The thought emboldened him to stand. He saw Genevieve flinch as though she could sense him, even with eyes closed and lips locked. He shot her an affectionate smile, untying his neckerchief and shrugging out of his waistcoat, setting them aside.

James started at the feeling of Francis’ broad fingertips against his arm. Breaking with the woman before him to stare bewildered. Francis came up behind him with his eyes unbearably bright and kind. He’d never thought he’d ever find such a look in his eyes, in all four years he’d known him. But he found it here, as Francis held his gaze, daring his hand to tease up to the edge of his lapels, offering to take them down.

“Do you want this, James?” he asks, his meaning clear in his lilt, in the compassionate tone he’s taken with him these last few weeks. The offer is for them both. For him and his Lady Terror, who pets the scruff of his neck in approval as Francis waits for a reply. For after all, they may not survive what they do here. They may not survive at all. But to feel what they have, curled against him, surrounding him in a way he’s never known… it forces a nod from him.

“Yes. Yes, Francis,” he whimpers, and finds a kind smile grace his lips before the other man leans forward to capture his lips himself.

WIP ASK GAME

[milosometimeswrites]

OC Description Tag - Tag Game

I was tagged by @thewardenofwinter, and you can find their post here.

Rules: Share an excerpt from your WIP that describes one of your OCs.

This excerpt is from 'The Strings of Willis Manor'. Within the first chapter of the story, Thistle suffers an attack caused by her illness and her friends come to her aide. Enjoy!

Her head eased up as she saw us enter, and her playing abruptly stopped when her eyes locked on me. In an instant she was in front of me, and doing the exact same things that Clementine had done for me in the garden, except asking more questions than I could possibly answer. Andromeda Marrow has always been… ethereal. Her dark skin gleamed in the soft light that was streaming in through the windows. White freckles danced across her usually-dimpled cheeks, and her dark eyes were a welcoming pool of love and comfort. Her black kinky hair floated around her face and drifted down to her shoulders. She was currently sporting a wrinkle of concern between her brows. Looking at her was like looking at the expanding possibilities of the night sky, and feeling the embrace of the universe. Her red striped dress, with a high collar and short sleeves, pooled around her knees as she knelt down in front of me. In complete honesty, I hadn’t been following what she was saying, but she continued to speak as though I'd been responding the whole time.

I love my baby Andromeda. She's excellent and cool.

I'll be tagging: @the-dragon-chronicler, @avi-why, @surroundedbypearls, @oliverferrie, @morganwriteblr and @imslowlydisintegrating

[ninzied]

wip wednesday

The first thing he sees of the man are the dimples. Twin divots in the low arch of his back, nestled above a perfect, round ass that looks like it’s been carved from marble.

He’s standing at the center of a dimly lit room, encircled by easels and chairs. There are men and women alike setting up at each station, but Alex isn’t looking at any of them. Every step brings him a glimpse of the man from a new angle: a stretch of smooth skin, the sharp line of his jaw. The glint of a signet ring. A flicker of candlelight in his golden hair.

Alex blindly follows Pez’s lead as they walk along the perimeter of chairs.

“Lord Henry Mountchristen,” Pez whispers into Alex’s ear. “But here, he’s just Henry. First time he’s posed for us, so your timing is impeccable.”

From behind, Just Henry had looked as still as a statue. But as Alex keeps moving, he gets a better look at his face and notes the flush to Just Henry’s cheeks, the bob of his throat as he swallows. Henry closes his eyes for a moment, a muscle in his jawline twitching. He takes a quick breath before squaring his shoulders again.

Alex is staring openly now. These small vulnerabilities are somehow even more mesmerizing to him than Henry’s beauty itself.

Alex trails after Pez, unable to tear his gaze away. All he wants is to see more of Henry. He tries not to blink in case it’s a mirage and he loses the chance to draw him in time. He commits everything he can to memory, from the lines of Henry’s thighs to the pink tip of his cock coming just into view as Pez stops by an unclaimed easel.

“Here, Alexander,” says Pez, too late, as Alex takes another mindless step forward and promptly collides with the easel, the scrape of impact echoing loudly all throughout the room.

tagged by: @magicandarchery tagging: @eusuntgratie @carry-the-sky @garglyswoof @firenati0n @stereopticons @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @kiwiana-writes @piratefalls @sparklepocalypse @mulderscully @dreamsinthewitchouse @junebugclaremontdiaz @guillermosfamiliar @indestructibleheart @theprinceandagcd @celeritas2997 @anincompletelist and an open tag to anyone reading this! sorry to any who've done this already today ♡

[green-socks]

TALK TO ME ABOUT cowboy hangman please

You got it my love!!!

(So he's actually still a fighter pilot and not a full time cowboy or anything, it's just titled that because well we've all been there.) This was my first ever top gun wip that I started in june, so the progress has clearly been slow and not steady.

It's Jake x reader, where he goes home to texas after the mission and basically I just wanted the opportunity to ogle him doing farm work (shirtless) and cooing at baby cows and riding a horse and all that sexy stuff ya know. I gave him a sister and became weirdly attached to her. Reader is her good friend and that's why she hangs around a lot.

It definitely shows that this was my first wip for him, but I still think it's a good time. Light and easy fun! I'll give you a silly little snippet:

You burst out laughing when you saw him do his toothpick trick.

“What?” Jake asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh nothing, I just remembered how I saw you do that once, years ago, at the mall parking lot, I think, and thought it looked so cool, I wanted to try too. I gave up after I almost stabbed the pick through my bottom lip. Couldn’t figure out how the hell you did it,” you chuckled.

“You think it looks cool huh?” he asked, grinning, showing off his dimple. “It’s all about the tongue, sugar,” he winked.

wip title game

[viiisenyas]

WIP Whenever

Hooray! I finished filling in a placeholder for the first part of my OC’s introductory POV in my lil AU and I’m excited to share it 💗

Tagging: erm… YOU! Yes YOU scrolling!

Elaena was knocked on her back again, and the air was stolen from her lungs. The sun burned hot against her brown skin, and sweat collected uncomfortably above her brow as strands of her silver hair clung to her face.

She coughed, cursing in Valyrian as the sound of her cousin’s laughter resonated when she approached. Elaena blinked slowly as Tyene extended her hand to her, and she graciously accepted the gesture, rising to her feet.

“You’re getting better with the spear,” Tyene praised, offering a dimpled smile as she tucked her short, dark hair behind her ear. “But you’re distracted. You can’t be distracted when you’re in a real fight.”

Elaena looked down, and Tyene gently clasped her shoulder.

“You won’t always have brave men there to protect you, Elaena. You have to be quicker.”

“I know, it’s just that…” Elaena trailed off, and her thoughts became clouded with doubt.

“What is it?”

“I’ll never be as good as you or Nymeria,” Elaena sighed.

“Don’t say that,” Tyene tutted. “You’re still learning, no? In time, I think you’ll be better. Now come, let us try again.” She handed Elaena her spear, and Elaena twirled the weapon just as her uncle had taught her as Tyene took a few paces back.

Tyene flourished her sparring swords before she rushed towards her, and Elaena blocked her strikes with the shaft of her weapon. As she anticipated Tyene’s next attack, Elaena gracefully evaded, and with a quick motion, she thrust the spear at her cousin’s abdomen.

Tyene jumped back just before Elaena could hit her, and she looked at her, surprised.

Quiet applause resonated from above them, and Elaena looked up to find her uncle watching. Her heart swelled with pride when she saw the approval on his face, and Elaena wiped the sweat from her brow before sparing a glance at Tyene.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Oberyn called from the bannister, smiling. “Well done, Elaena.” He tilted his head. “Come. Supper is waiting,” Oberyn gestured with his hand, and turned to leave.

Her cousin patted her back gently, and Elaena handed her spear to the armorer as she followed her through the Water Gardens towards the Great Hall. It wasn’t long before Tyene pushed the grandeur doors open, and Elaena peered around the room with melancholy as she began to accept that this was the last day she would ever set foot in this place for a long while.

On the morrow, she would sail for King’s Landing, and the thought turned her stomach. The royal court was nothing more than a viper’s nest, and she was but a mouse evading the deadly strike of the serpents that lingered. She never wanted to leave the company of the Martells, nor did she want to marry Ser Brandon Bar Emmon.

Elaena was perfectly content with being the second-born child and the freedom it offered. Her hopes of sailing to Essos with Oberyn, exploring the wonders of Qarth and Volantis had dissolved after she learned that her brother had become a Kingsguard, and she was promised to a man she only met once when she was but a child. It was a bitter reminder that she was the spare, and the responsibility of furthering the line had fallen on her shoulders.

“There you are, my sweet,” Ellaria’s melodic voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and Elaena’s eyes brightened.

She was the mother she always wanted but could never have, and Elaena envied her cousins for it.

Ellaria stood to cross the room to embrace her daughter before she moved to plant a kiss on Elaena’s forehead. “I was afraid you two wouldn’t leave the courtyard.”

“Elaena was keeping me occupied, Mama,” Tyene shrugged, poking her tongue out at her before Elaena scrunched her nose as she rolled her eyes, playfully. “She insisted. But, she’s improving. With time, she’ll be ready to take you on, Obara.”

“Is that so?” The older girl raised a brow as she took a sip of her wine before popping a piece of bread into her mouth.

“Tyene says I’m getting better with a spear,” Elaena smiled as she moved towards the table, and Obara beckoned her with her hand.

She always liked her. She was the boldest of her cousins, and like Tyene, she was patient with Elaena.

Obara pulled out a chair beside her, and patted the cushioned seat as she finished chewing her food. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and Elaena’s grin grew wider when she sat down as Tyene settled across from her with Nymeria.

“Don’t eat yet,” Ellaria lightly swatted Obara’s hand as she reached for another piece of ham. “Your father is on his way. We wait.”

Obara rolled her eyes, and Elaena suppressed a laugh, biting her lower lip.

“Do you really have to leave us, Elaena?” Nymeria asked, frowning as she pushed her long hair behind her shoulder.

“Unfortunately,” Elaena shrugged. “If I could stay, I would, but… My father has named me the heir of Driftmark.”

“It’s a wonder that your brother chose to serve the usurper,” Obara scoffed, taking another sip of wine. “A Kingsguard.”

Elaena frowned, and sighed. She knew the true reasoning behind his choice, and he never let her forget who saved their lives when they were hidden away in the Black Cells as her mother brought her into the world. But there was no sense of arguing as none of them would truly understand.

“Monterys always liked the armour, I suppose.”

Obara rolled her eyes. “I hope the pretty armour is worth serving the man that let the Lannisters—”

“Enough, Obara,” Ellaria chided as Oberyn entered the room, slowly guiding Doran towards the head of the table.

“Hello, uncle,” Elaena straightened her posture as her violet gaze met Doran’s tired eyes. “How do you fare?”

“Better than yesterday, my dear,” Doran took a breath and forced a smile.

Her heart sank when she saw the agonised look on his face. The gout had become worse over the last few months, and he had been refusing to ease the pain with milk of the poppy.

“I am very sorry that I will not be able to accompany you to King’s Landing,” Oberyn said as he settled beside Ellaria. “But you will always be welcome in the Water Gardens. You can visit anytime you like.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, and her lips bent downward.

She knew exactly why he didn’t want to go, and Oberyn didn’t need to speak his mind on the matter. But the thought of visiting again warmed her heart, and hope swelled once more as she began to indulge herself in her dinner.

[xpeachesncream]

hii nikki! can you please give us a sneak peek of your next fic 🥹💗

hi hi! ☺️ of course! ♥️ but i do have to warn you, i haven't touched much of my bts wips in awhile because i just haven't had the motivation for the past months. i am slowly getting back into these projects though, but it will definitely take more time than i expected.

if you want some sneak peeks into my skz or ateez work, lemme know. 😚 enjoy!

—no pressure series (tattoo artist!oc x jjk, some oc x ex-fiance!namjoon) | releasing soon | playlist here.

it had been roughly 3 years since your ex-fiancé namjoon upped and left without reason, leaving you in the cold right before your wedding. it took so much out of you, but you finally had enough of feeling sorry for yourself. so, you picked yourself up and started fresh. you finally took the leap and went into the career you had been wanting to take up for years, embraced yourself for who you were [flaws and all], and actually found somebody who would do you right without trying to force the connection.

the only problem?

he’s one of namjoon’s friends, and he isn’t too pleased to see it when he shows up out of the blue after all these years.

—FLASHBACK

Namjoon licks his lips and bites onto his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too big. He takes his eyes away from you before glancing down at the floor, Hoseok looking at him in pure confusion and disgust.

"I-is that how you flirt?" Hoseok pours him a shot of whiskey before slowly sliding it over. "Why don't you two just talk to each other? You've been at this game for so long."

"Shut up. What game?" Namjoon furrows his brows.

"The whole chasing game." Hoseok laughs. "All you do is flirt in person, flirt through text, flirt from a distance. Just fucking go and do something about it. Everyone knows you like each other."

"Yeaaaah, but it's fun." Namjoon looks up to look at you across the room once more. "God, she's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Yeah and she'll be just that before someone else snatches her up because you were too damn slow." Taehyung adds to the conversation as he steps in with a soda can in his hand.

"Not gonna let that happen. I'm gonna marry her one day."

"Wow, that's bold." Taehyung says as all three of them look towards your direction. "You really, really like her don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. She's special." And it's true. It may sound overwhelming, but Namjoon really did have so, so many feelings for you, he couldn't understand it himself. He was unaware of how deep he could fall for someone, especially so quickly. But you— you were different. He knew from the very moment he saw you that you'd become something special to him.

And something special that he'd keep for as long as he could.

Namjoon takes the shot before his boys can even take their own glasses into their hands, setting it aside before making his way over to you. If it's one thing, Hoseok was right. He was gonna do something with it tonight, even if that meant just taking you away from this party to get you to himself— anywhere, wherever you wanted to go. He didn't wanna keep it subtle anymore, didn't wanna keep it at the chase.

He wanted you.

"Mhm, there he goes." Tae takes the shot to the neck, him and Hoseok watching as Namjoon approaches you.

"How come it doesn't take a lot for you to convince him?"

"It's Namjoon. It doesn't take a lot to convince him in general. Maybe you're just using the wrong wording." Hoseok looks at Tae confused, pausing before he continues his debate with Taehyung in the kitchen.

"Hey." Namjoon says, coming up from behind you.

"Joon." He smiles, hearing his nickname fall off your tongue so smoothly— just like it did when you met him for the very first time. "Hey."

"You enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, I was. Now, I'm about ready to go home and get in bed." He chuckles, cute dimples deeply piercing his cheeks. "You?"

"Ah, it's been cool. Me and the boys have just been cooped up in the kitchen though, so I think we're getting to that point too."

"See? I'm not the only one." Namjoon shakes his head.

"No not at all." His gaze lingers on you for a bit longer before he speaks up again. "Well, if you're ready to leave, do you.. maybe.. wanna get some food with me?" He shyly asks, the butterflies flying wild in your tummy. You simply nod and smile at him, tossing your empty cup into the black trash bag near you. You lean over to whisper in Reggie's ear, Reggie smirking at you before he slowly nods and gives you a wink to send you off. You giggle to yourself, grabbing onto Namjoon's hand as he helps guide you through the crowded house and out into the fresh, night air.

"God, this feels so nice." You take in a good whiff of the fresh air, rubbing your arms as the cold slowly settles onto your skin.

"Yeah, it was stuffy as hell in there." He looks down at you. "Here, why don't you take this?" He takes off his bomber jacket and throws it over your shoulders.

"You sure?"

"Of course. I'd rather be cold than you." You smile at him.

"Are you okay to drive?"

"Mhm. I didn't plan on drinking tonight. Swear I'm good."

"Promise?" You tilt your head and look at him as you arrive to his car.

"Promise."

"What about your boys?" He chuckles.

"They'll be fine, I can come back for them later." He scratches his temple. "Wait, Jungkook can pick them up too. He should be done with his date." He says, moreso thinking out loud before he shakes his head and opens your door. "Nah, they'll be fine. I'll deal with them later. Don't worry."

"Okay then, I'll let them know that's what you said if they ever bring it up."

"Are you on their side or mine?" He climbs into the driver's seat and smirks at you, making you blush.

"I take no sides."

"Uh huh." He starts the car and slowly starts to drive off. "Anything you're craving in general?"

"Eomukguk." Namjoon furrows his brows with a slight head tilt.

"Okay, was definitely not expecting that." He laughs.

"Sorry, I've been craving it for so long, but I just haven't had time to visit my Tutu and get some with her." You look down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. Your schedule has been pretty wack lately, it's been hard to find time and leave to visit Tutu. But, with midterms coming up, you were hoping you could sneak away for the upcoming week off afterwards.

"No, it's alright. Don't apologize. I can make that happen. I know a place that's open late and has really good eomukguk. The boys and I go there all the time."

"Really?" Your eyes light up when you look at him and he smiles.

"Yeah." He chuckles in adoration. "Won't take long to get there, okay?" You silently nod and look out the window. And as promised, it doesn't take long to get there. Namjoon pulls up to a street near a residential area, a few people walking down, coming in and out of the convenience store and bars nearby. He parks his car and heads over to open up your door to let you out. He puts out his arm for you to hold onto, hoping it could provide you with some extra warmth until he gets you inside the small restaurant down the street.

There aren't too many people inside when you two get there, but the owner seems to know Namjoon well with the way that she greets him happily. She instantly shows you two to a table in the back corner, the restaurant itself not being the biggest. It's cozy, tiny, comfortable.

Reminds you a lot of Tutu.

Reminds you of home with Tutu.

When the food finally comes, Namjoon watches as you happily wiggle in your seat before blowing onto your spoonful of broth, the other hand holding a fish cake stick. He giggles to himself, admiring how adorable and cute you were, admiring how beautiful you looked sitting in front of him. The both of you quietly eat through the late night snack, chiming in here and there about weird shit that happened at the party tonight.

"Ah, that was so good." You slurp the last of your soup. "Thank you." You look at him with a small smile that he acknowledges.

"Course. Anything else you want?"

"Hm." You tap your chin. "Hotteok?" His eyes widen.

"I think I could marry you on the spot." He says with a slow nod, making you laugh.

"Why? Do you like it?"

"Like it? That's my favorite thing to snack on." He looks at you before carefully pushing aside the empty dishes on the table. "Come on." He nods towards the door before getting up to pay for the meal.

"Hey, let me know how much that was."

"I got it." He smiles at you.

"Joon." You pout.

"Now, you know you can't do that." He chuckles as you walk backwards to continue shoving your pout in his face.

"Why not?" You tease, tippy-toeing to get in his face. He blushes, hand placed on your arm gently to guide you. When you slightly lose your footing over a small pothole in the street, your foot lands wrong and your ankle twists, causing you to trip.

"Woah." Namjoon catches you, placing both of his hands on the back of your elbows to bring you close to his body. "Y/N, please. Be careful. I don't want you to hurt yourself." Your breathing quietly hitches, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sensation to kiss him.

"Sorry." You say, close to a whisper.

"You okay?" You nod and he smiles.

"You sure you got it from here?" He teases.

"I just get a little clumsy sometimes."

"A little? I've seen you trip multiple times on the way to class."

"Hey." You whine, making him laugh as he brushes your hair back.

"You're still cute." You blush, eyes darting from his eyes to your lips. He catches on and god, does he wanna pull you into the deepest kiss right now. He's been waiting for this very moment where he could hold you close, kiss you, take you in. No more of the subtle flirting, no more of the subtle brushing of hands, the hand against your back as he passes by. No more trying to keep the flirting hush hush during study sessions in the library.

He wants to show you more of him.

But he wants to do right by you.

He licks his lips and gently lets you go, signaling at the food cart ahead. To say you were disappointed was an understatement, and it had you questioning whether or not Namjoon really did feel the same way as you even though he had been open and flirting back. Maybe you were reading him wrong? Why hadn't he made his move on you yet?

Why didn't he just kiss you?

"Hotteok is right there." Is all he says before leading you to the cart. You silently follow along, the both of you quietly eating your hotteok as you walk back to the car and start making your way back home to your shared apartment. Namjoon can pick up on the sudden shift in attitude, even though you had been trying to keep it cool, keep yourself together, rather than let the disappointment ruin a good night.

He knew what was bothering you though, you didn't have to say it. It really has nothing to do with you, moreso just him.

He just doesn't wanna fuck this up. You mean a lot to him, and he really, really liked you. He could almost spill out the fucking 'L' word if he wanted to. Because you— you were different.

He parks his car in front of your apartment building, which isn't too far from campus itself and the surrounding neighborhood [thank God, because Hoseok has been blowing up his phone since he hopped off the freeway]. You both silently sit there, unsure if you really want the night to end this way or what, but again, you weren't gonna let a moment ruin the night you had. You had fun, you enjoyed spending the rest of it with Namjoon. It's all you had been hoping for, anyway. Some alone time with Namjoon.

"Thank you." He tilts his head and gives you a small smile.

"Of course."

"Are you gonna go back for Hoseok and Taehyung?" He nods.

"Yeah, Hoseok has been blowing up my phone. I probably should." You chuckle, watching as Namjoon rushes over to your side to open your door and walk you to the front of your building.

"I really enjoyed tonight. Seriously. Thank you for helping me fulfill my craving." You giggle as he pulls you into the softest, biggest hug ever.

"You can always call me if you need company, you know I'd be right there." You nod as you pull back.

"Goodnight? Drive safely." You say softly as you give him one last smile before walking towards the lobby door. Namjoon stands there, watching as you fiddle with your bag to fetch your keys out. But, it suddenly hits him—

He can't end the night like this.

"Y/N." He calls out as he walks towards you, just as you swing the door open to step inside.

"Hm?" He walks over, large hands come out of his pockets to rest on your cheeks as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. When he slightly pulls away, the tips of your noses are still touching, his thumb caressing the surface of your cheek. You chase after his lips for another small peck— one that the both of you sink into, your hands gripping onto the sides of his shirt to keep him close. Completely pulling away this time, he leans his forehead against yours and kisses the tip of your nose before looking back down at you.

"Goodnight." He bites onto his bottom lip when he sees you smile from ear to ear.

—END FLASHBACK

[words-after-midnight]

i love hyperspecifically beautiful posh boys who are vile wretched little creatures. tell me more about this project of yours :D

Hahah aw, well, first of all, I read too fast and only saw after I reblogged that you exclusively read fantasy - so, you'd probably "like" him (using that term very loosely, he's a heinous bastard), but not necessarily the works he's featured in. I write pretty much exclusively contemporary crime fiction and horror/horror subgenres. He's the antagonist of my main WIP.

I'll just tell you about him, since he'd probably be the main draw for you - my protagonist (Gabriel), while I love and critically support him, is definitely more chaotic bisexual gremlin than pretty boy.

So, a bit about my antagonist (I created him almost 15 years ago - we'd be here all day if I tried to give you a "complete" rundown, lol): his name is ✨️Jefferson✨️, but goes pretty much exclusively by Jeff. He ranges in age from 17-27 throughout the story. He's almost exactly six months older than my protagonist, but acts quite a bit older and calls him "kid" (which Gabriel hates, lol).

Central to his character is his proneness to boredom, lack of direction, and need for constant stimulation and thrill. Also central to his character is that virtually nothing seems to faze, upset, hurt, or scare him, or break/crack his carefully collected exterior.

He's from a wealthy Southern family (hence the posh) and suffers from a severe case of affluenza, bratty princess subtype. Very dominant and assertive personality, which can just as easily charm or intimidate. He hasn't worked a day in his life, and instead fills his days with hedonistic and often risky/dangerous/destructive antics (this led him, among other things, to being slapped with a "conduct disorder" label/diagnosis, which is how Gabriel, also in treatment for mental health issues, met him as a young teenager).

Jeff never tires of finding new and creative ways to push people's buttons, to mess with people, to find out what makes them tick and exploit it however he can. He's also conventionally attractive, knows it, and won't hesitate to use it to his advantage. He thrives on interpersonal chaos and drama, being desired, and hits of adrenaline in any form he can get them. Essentially, he could be considered a personification of "chaotic evil," lmao. He's also extremely manipulative, often subtly, and his attractive, carefree, and charismatic exterior can easily disarm you, leading to a disorienting world of hurt once he's got you in his clutches.

Physically: he's white, has light blond hair that naturally curls (more wavy than curly when longer), a pale skin tone, and lighter gray eyes described as "piercing" (yeah, I know...). He's 5'11" with a pretty slight build, but not lanky/scrawny. He freckles a bit when he spends too long in the sun. Almost always smiling, smirking, or generally looking cocky/haughty (you know something's off if he's got a deadpan face). Has dimples when smiling. Always really put together (he's high maintenance, particular about his appearance and spends a lot of time getting ready) and wears stylish clothes. He has a scarf collection. Here's some concept art and picrews of him:

My favorite sketch of him. He's 18 or 19 here.

Picrews of him at ages 18 and 27.

I also answered an ask recently with random facts about him.

Thank you for the ask!! :)

[biowhore]

Also for WIP Wednesday - I'm working on some original fiction. It's smutty, it's introspective, it's mostly for me, but if you wanna follow along I hope to be posting the first chapter, session #0, soon.

Shoshana seeks out Adam, a grossly attractive sex worker, to help her see herself in a new light. She's never felt helped by conventional therapy, doesn't have friends, and her family couldn't care less about her. Alone in the world, she grasps frantically for any thread to tether herself to, and Adam not only throws her a lifeline, he sets her back on dry land. A story of letting go of societal expectations, mourning the person you thought you should be, and welcoming the person who is.

*this is still pretty rough, please excuse any typos and meandering prose

---

Shoshana tasted blood in her mouth. 

She had bitten her lip so many times since she sat down she was certain the man sitting across from her could see the color seep between her teeth. Yet still she worried the flesh while her eyes traced the wood grain on the lounge door. It was a cozy room: plush, oversized couch, soft fabrics, low warm lighting. She could easily drift among the warm tones of the room, watching the sunrays track across the walls through the blinds on the window, drawing her into safety from the current moment.  

It was too curated, though. Cozy, but obviously designed to be that way, to lure occupants to feel safe. To feel comfortable. To let their guard down. It reminded her of a therapist’s office, complete with ulterior motive. Was Shoshana safe here? Physically, yes. Emotionally, well… that remained to be seen. 

“Shoshana?” the man said gently, coaxingly, patiently. He was practically sunk into his oversized loveseat across from her, one ankle propped atop his knee, one arm resting casually across his middle as the other swirled a glass of water.  

Her eyes flicked up to him momentarily but she couldn’t bring herself to keep them there. They wandered back to the main door behind him, then tracked to another on her left. Through there must be where they would… 

The man, Adam, leaned forward, propping his forearms on his knees and lacing his fingers together, “It’s ok to be nervous,” he said, again in that infuriatingly soft tone. It made her want to relax. It made her want to look at him. 

Why was she doing this again?  

She took a deep breath and braced herself. She had to make this work.  

“I guess I am nervous… Could we go over it again?” She spoke quietly, betraying just how anxious she was. The corduroy fabric of the couch beneath her was starting to feel less soft and inviting, and more stinging and stifling.  

“Of course,” Adam said with a mild smile, leaning back into his seat. He was too pretty, which is what made him perfect for this. His demeanor, his infuriating softness, was probably going to kill her. 

Adam was the sort of man Shoshana saw in a club and immediately dismissed as out of her league. Men like Adam didn’t look at women like her, didn’t talk to women like her, didn’t really even acknowledge their existence. In her experience, they knew what they looked like, and what those looks could get them. Shoshana didn’t factor into that at all, and never would. 

He was tanned, blonde, lean, and had dimples when he smiled. His hair was wavy and a longer cut that gave him the look of a romance novel love interest. He wore casual jeans that fit him as if they were tailored, and a forest green wool sweater. He had glasses perched on top of his head, for reading, which may just be his only flaw. A man like this didn’t talk to women like her, and when they did, they were overbearing. But Adam… Adam spoke to her like he knew everything about her already. Like he saw right through her. Maybe he did – she hoped he did. Otherwise this contract may not work out.  

“We’ll meet once a week, but there’s no pressure to keep to the schedule. If you need to cancel or move things up, just contact me and we’ll work it out.” 

Shoshana’s attention snapped back to him, her brown eyes meeting his grey as he spoke, trapping her in his lulling cadence.  

He brought his glasses back down to his nose briefly as he skimmed through a few notes on the small table beside him, “I’ve got your negative STI screenings here, confirmation of contraceptives, and our signed agreements to keep up both during our time together.” He looked back to her, “And you have copies of these and my own information?” 

“Yes,” Shoshana breathed. His negative screenings, their agreements, and all the other necessary but impersonal paperwork.  

“Good,” Adam smiled softly at her again, the word sparking a little something in her chest as he said it. “At this stage we should go over boundaries and anything you know you’d like included. Basically a yes/no/maybe list.” 

“I…” Shoshana trailed off, her anxious energy growing despite his soothing voice. Her tongue darted out to lick her dry lips, the sting from her bites grounding her only fractionally. Her eyes left Adam’s again, falling to the beige carpet where her feet shuffled restlessly. She felt untethered to her body, as if she would float away any second. 

Adam leaned forward again, bending down to catch her eye, “Shoshana… May I take your hand?”  

She nodded numbly, struggling to bring herself out of this spiral, letting their eye contact entrance her. She felt Adam’s warm, long fingers take hers away from her lap, holding them gently between them as he spoke again, “I know you really want to do this, Shoshana, but you can always change your mind. At any time. Do you want to continue?” 

Shoshana nodded, squeezing her eyes shut, “Y-yes.” 

“All right, take a deep breath for me.” 

Her ribs and abdomen expanded with a shaky inhale. She focused on the movement of her sinews as they moved to accommodate the air, letting it out with control. She could do this, she wanted this. Adam was going to help her in a way no one else could. She just needed to conquer this damned anxiety.  

“Good,” Adam praised softly, a small smile gracing his full lips. There was that little spark again – she couldn’t examine that right now, was a little afraid to honestly. 

Shoshana opened her eyes, giving Adam eye contact now, noticing that he still held her fingers loosely between them. “S-sorry. Let’s keep going.” 

“You never have to apologize for anything that happens here with me, ok? I’m here to help.” 

She nodded shyly, “Ok. Um… the list?” 

Adam released her fingers and settled into the loveseat again. “Yes,” he said with a short nod, “So to cover the basics, we’ve consented to sex together. I will reaffirm consent each time we begin, and may check in during. By check in, I mean asking in clear words if you want to stop or change anything. As I said before, you can change your mind at any time. I am guiding you, not holding power over you. Does that make sense?” 

Her lip screamed at her as she began gnawing on it again, but she kept looking at Adam, determined to take control of her nerves. “Yes, I understand.”  

Adam smiled approvingly, “Great. That being said, however, I have my own boundaries and limits. We talked before, but just to be clear, I don’t explore themes of assault or abuse. I have colleages I can put you in touch with if you think that’s something you might want to do later.” Adam took a sip of his water, the crystal refracting the warm light in the room and distracting Shoshana momentarily. She watched his throat work when he swallowed, a flash of guilt flaming her cheeks as she caught herself ogling.  

Get it together, Shoshi. 

“Now, I’d like to discuss your boundaries.” Adam said as he placed his glass back on the side table, his jeans rustling as he crossed his ankle over his knee.  

“Um… similar to yours, for sure.” She said quietly, “U-uh… beyond that… I-I’m not really sure.” Her eyes returned to the carpet, her fingers picking at her nail beds in her renewed intense nervousness.  

Adam chuckled very lightly, leaning forward again and taking her fingers, stopping them in their assault on her skin. She looked up, caught by his unsettling gaze. “I’m worried you’re going to bite a hole in your lip, Shoshana. I have many skills, but stiches aren’t one of them.” Adam said, one side of his mouth quirking up.  

She immediately released her lip, still tasting a bit of blood, and ducked her head sheepishly.  

“It’s ok not to know. We can try things together. I’ll always check in with you about it, and you are free to suggest things to me.” He paused, thinking. “Would seeing the room together help?” 

She thought for a moment. It might, she conceded. Seeing the room they would be together in before their first real session might take some of the mystery out of it. Her eyes lifted back to his, and she nodded silently. He smiled at her, nodding in turn, and helped her up from the couch by tugging on her fingers in his hand. He led her to the door on her left, letting go of her hand to open it and step aside. 

The room was dark as Shoshana stepped inside, shifting just to the right of the frame to let Adam inside. He flicked the switch behind her, the overhead light coming on to bathe the room in a clinical white light.  

“I’ll use lamps and candles when we are in session; it won’t look this stark. I thought seeing it like this might take off some pressure.” 

She gave him a little anxious smile over her shoulder in appreciation. It did help, being able to see everything without the suggestive warmth of ambient lighting. The bed was large and simply dressed, practical but comfortable with its many pillows, short poster frame, and simple soft blankets. A picture window let natural light in on the far wall, but it had been expertly frosted to obstruct the view. Heavy curtains with a neutral geometric pattern were ready to close off the room to the outside entirely. There was a skinny table next to the window with a water pitcher and glasses. I didn’t think about needing water, good lord. A dressing table with a mirror sat just to her right, off center enough so that the mirror wouldn’t show what was happening on the bed. Unless you wanted to see, she supposed.