#grand cascade

[illustratus]

The Grand Cascade, Terni with fishermen in the foreground by Claude-Louis Châtelet

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue August 1973

Gunilla Lindblad in front of the facade of La Grande Cascade restaurant in Paris, in an ensemble, a moss green flannel skirt, a cardigan and a wool sweater over a crepe de chine shirt, all by Karl Lagerfeld for Chloé. Shoes, Charles Jourdan, hat, Charles Brosseau for Don Marshall. Hairdresser Jean-Louis David.

Gunilla Lindblad devant la façade du restaurant La Grande Cascade à Paris, dans un ensemble, jupe en flanelle vert mousse, un cardigan et, pull en laine, sur une chemise en crêpe de Chine, tout par Karl Lagerfeld pour Chloé. Chaussures, Charles Jourdan, chapeau, Charles Brosseau pour Don Marshall. Coiffure Jean-Louis David.

Photo Helmut Newton vogue archive

[aigle-suisse]

La Grande Cascade 02 par Laurent GLASSON Via Flickr : Le cirque de Saint-Même fait partie de la réserve naturelle nationale des Hauts de Chartreuse. Il est caractérisé par des couches importantes de roches urgoniennes où se forment quatre cascades (de haut en bas : Cascade des Sources, Grande Cascade, Cascade Isolée, Pisse du Guiers) dominées par des falaises calcaires de 500 mètre de haut. Les eaux proviennent de sources souterraines du Guiers Vif.

[sam-mll]

• 𝚁𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙸𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍

[stormydayzgamez]

TS3→ Random Lepacy 3.30: Fast Approaching

We are fast approaching the 4th generation! I am ridiculously excited about adding Late Night back into the game!

[lacyblades]

౨ৎ bully!sukuna and bully!gojo were the devils, you were sure. everything they said, everything they did would only attribute to your claim. in the grand scheme of things, they did all they could, just to make your bad days just a little worse.

a seemingly accidental bump, a well-timed shove, and suddenly, the carefully organized stack of papers you were carrying would drop onto the grimy floor.

your face would burn with humiliation as you scrambled to gather the scattered sheets, the sound of their mocking laughter echoing around you.

"oh, my bad! didn't see you there," gojo would snicker, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

sukuna snorts, leaning against a nearby locker with an air of bored superiority, would chime in, his voice a deep, gravelly drawl that sent shivers down your spine, "looks like someone's having a fuckin' rough day, huh?" so condescending. so cruel.

as you bent to retrieve the papers, the already precarious hem of your tiny school uniform skirt would ride up, revealing a flash of baby pink panties that clung to the curve of your ass.

they'd had pulled strings, whispered to someone, to ensure your skirt was always a size too small, a constant source of discomfort and vulnerability.

and, you? well, you were never the wiser. innocent and naïve, you struggled to comprehend the depth of their malice.

but, the hallway incidents were just the opening act. their cruelty extended beyond casual torment.

you always retreated to the quiet solitude of the outdoors, hoping to escape their suffocating presence. yet, like relentless shadows, they would follow, their laughter and taunts cutting through the peaceful ambiance.

one particularly sweltering afternoon, as you sat alone beneath the shade of an oak, a sudden splash of cold water cascaded down your back. you gasped, your white button-up shirt instantly clinging to your skin, the flimsy material offering little resistance to the revealing dampness.

even with no one else around to witness your mortification, the shame felt even worse with just them. the thin fabric clung to your chest, showing off your perky tits. the sudden chill caused your nipples to harden visibly through the wet cloth.

"fuck, that's a sight," sukuna's voice, low and husky, cut through the air.

lost in your embarrassment, you didn't even register the faint click of a phone camera, the subtle exchange of knowing glances between them, hidden behind their loud, booming laughter. they reveled in your discomfort, their eyes lingering on your exposed form with a predatory gleam.

the question that kept nagging at you was just why? why you? you'd never messed with them, never even tried to get their attention. you'd gone out of your way to avoid them, trying to disappear. and still, they were always there, making your life hell at every turn.

a question that nagged at you especially so, when you were bent over an empty classroom's desk, choking on sukuna's thick cock, while gojo's rammed into your aching pussy.

why you? you didn't have the prettiest face, with round, chunky glasses that didn't fit quite right. you didn't have a perfect hourglass, with full hips and big boobs. your hair was always at least a little frizzy, no matter how much you tried to tame it. didn't even have a alluring personality, instead blurring into the background, like any wallflower. you weren't a head-turner, not really.

you'd been taught, growing up, to avoid confrontation, and to stay out of trouble. but, if trouble was adamant on finding you, the best you could do was tough it out, right? the faster you succumbed, the faster it'd be over with... right?

you clench around gojo, his fat tip kissing your cervix. every thrust felt like it was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, not one you'd be able to return from. your small, fluttering hole did it's best to accommodate to his size, but fuck — it was too much.

"mm, so, so tight — virgin lil' pussy," gojo groans, pinching your clit.

you cry, though it's horridly muffled, "p- please..." you're unsure what you're begging for.

sukuna ignores you, shoving his length further down your throat, "shit, takes it real well from here, too. what a good fuckin' girl."

they go over and over again, ignoring your sobbing (whether from pain or pleasure, you didn't know), instead repeatedly switching spots. you cum for the nth time, the gushing squirt betraying you. you've lost count, actually, how many times they've made you come undone. all you know; it's more than you've ever made yourself.

bully!sukuna and bully!gojo may have been the devils, but as you looked up at them, teary eyes blurring your vision, they were heavenly. especially when they were filling up all your holes like that.

[kaelula-sungwis]

Kareaara Stream Cascade, Tangoio Falls Reserve by Jos Buurmans Via Flickr: The first part of the track towards the Te Ana Falls and the Tangoio Falls in northern Hawke's Bay follows a stream that meanders through the native forest . In some areas, the stream makes its way through moss-covered rocks and boulders, creating beautiful cascades of water.

[brokenengene]

*ೃ ༄ 𝒏asty - p.sh

"How many guys have you been with—since me?" "You don't get to know that answer—" "How many made you come?"

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: exes to lovers, smut

This content is only for readers 18+

word count: 4.1k

content warning: strong language(they say fuck like 100 times), explicit smut, scratching, glasses kink, dirty talk, size kink, deep fingering, spitting, face painting with arousal, messy missionary sex, slipping out, cumplay, safe word mention, almost losing consciousness, emotional vulnerability

soundtrack: nasty - ariana grande

“So you’re not going to let me in? Seriously? I bought you dinner!”

You sigh, hand resting on the door handle of your apartment. Another date from those stupid, stupid apps. 

“I’m ok really, I work very early in the morning…” You reply, back pressed up against the door, hand gripping the door handle even tighter. 

“Fine! Don’t expect to see me again if you’re going to waste my money and time.” He yells before turning on his heel, stomping down the hall muttering to himself with frustration. 

You scoff with disbelief as you unlock the door to your apartment. Double-triple checking to make sure it's locked.

You immediately jumped in the shower to rinse off all the dirt from your less-than-impressive date. 

You’ve been back in the dating pool for a few months after cutting things off with Sunghoon. One too many arguments, one too many misunderstandings. 

You feel the ick rinsing off your skin as the warm water cascades over your shoulders and down your body to pool at your feet. 

This guy seriously thinks he can buy you for a twelve dollar all star meal. 

The fucking nerve. 

Most guys you met were either at the bar or through the apps. 

Hell, pure hell is what it was. And apparently that’s where the bar is too. 

You step out of the shower into the steaming bathroom. Finally feeling clean from the bad energy shifted onto you from your date.

You dry off your hands before picking up your phone from the bathroom counter. Heart-stopping, nearly dropping it as you see the notification flicker on your homescreen. 

Sunghoon Park(11:19pm) You called?

You read the message again. You didn’t call? Your brows furrow with confusion as you open up the message. Fingertips hovering over the screen before you scroll through your call history. 

“Shit—“ you curse to yourself. 

Sunghoon Park - Not Received(Friday 1:47am)

Your heart sinks. You curse again. This is exactly why his number should be blocked. His number shouldn’t even be saved in your phone. 

You(11:21pm) Sorry didn’t mean to bother you.  Must’ve been drunk. 

You throw your phone onto the bed, watching as it bounces off the pillows. Your heart races. Why are you even talking to him right now?

You hear your phone vibrate under the covers. Your chest already feels tight. You can't let him have this much power over you still. Especially not over the phone.

You let your shoulders drop their tension as you climb onto the bed, searching for your phone in the sea of pillows and blankets.

Sunghoon Park(11:23pm) so why'd u call? 

You grit your teeth as you stare back at the message. Your fingertips hover over the keyboard as you think hard and deep about what insults to throw back at him as you tell him off via text message.

Sunghoon Park Is Typing...

Your heart skips a beat as you watch the typing button disappear and re-appear on the screen as he types out his message, deletes it, and types up another one.

Sunghoon Park(11:25pm)  want me to come over?

You swallow hard, your fingertips tremble as you hesitate to do the one thing you know you shouldn't.

Not that things can get much worse after your last date.

You(11:26pm) doors unlocked.  you know what floor i'm on.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you sit on the bed in your bathrobe. This has to be a prank. He's got to be pulling a stunt to make an absolute fool out of you.

Twenty minutes go by.

And a knock at the door interrupts your spiraling.

You drag your feet across the cold, hard floor. Fingertips trembling as you open up the door.

Sunghoon stands in front of you. His appearance was messy a uncoordinated, like he really did drive over here on a whim.

You look him up and down, noticing his messy dark hair, his glasses slightly crooked on his nose bridge. The way his plain black shirt hugs his body, the way the gray sweatpants he has on conceal absolutely nothing.

You cross your arms over your chest as you let him in. Shutting the door behind him, watching as Sunghoon steps past you into your apartment.

The familiar scent of those fall-scented candles you burn year-round hits his senses, making his heart swell in ways it shouldn't have. Not anymore, at least.

"So why'd you call me?" He asks as he looks you up and down. His eyes scanning you from ankle to collarbone like he's reminiscing on something he lost.

You let out a huff of disbelief, in return, scanning your eyes over his disheveled appearance in the dim lighting.

"It was an accident. Probably fell asleep with my phone in the bed, or butt dialed you at the bar last Friday." You say as you uncross your arms from over your chest. revealing more of your soft skin to his line of sight.

The corner of his lips curves up into a smirk. He laughs under his breath before he looks back up into your eyes.

"An accident, seriously? Then why'd you text me back?" Sunghoon asks as he steps closer to you. The familiar scent of his cedarwood cologne brushes past you. Reminding you of all the good—and the bad.

"Why am I not blocked is the real question. You shouldn't even be getting my calls." You spit out as he steps closer.

He’s close enough for you to glance at his dark eyes behind the large frame of his glasses. Close enough to recognize the sparse freckles across his pale skin.

"Admit it, you missed me," Sunghoon says, voice dripping with tension as his hand gently cups the side of your face. His fingertips brushed against the familiar texture of your hair.

"Did not"

"Stop lying—" He says, his voice husky and deep, like he's trying to hold back unchecked restraint.

Before you can open your mouth to respond, his lips crash into yours.

He kisses you, gripping you harder, backing you up until the edge of the kitchen countertop digs into your spine.

Your hands rest on his broad chest, hesitating. You don't know whether to push him away or pull him in.

Sunghoon moans as he gently nips at your bottom lip. He smiles with satisfaction as you let out a sharp hiss, kissing you exactly how he remembers you like it.

You gasp as his mouth melts back into yours. Moans catch deeply in his chest as he pushes into you more, his knee pressing between the expanse of your thighs.

You break away, gasping for air like he just took the rest out of your lungs. His forehead rests against your own as his hands slide to your waist. His rough fingertips gently toying with the tie of your robe.

"Still gonna keep pretending you don't miss me?" He whispers before kissing you again softly.

Your lips melt against his like second nature. And you can't decide if you love it or despise it.

He gazes into your eyes. Heavy, charged behind the large frames of his glasses. He doesn't look away as his fingertips fidget with the knot of your robe.

He lets the satin slip off your shoulders, the fabric pooling on the floor at your feet.

You should tell him off, you should scream at him to leave.

But you don't.

Your eyes stay locked on the way his bottom lip fits between his teeth. A shiver goes up your spine as the cool air of your apartment hits your exposed skin.

The robe settles, giving Sunghoon an unfiltered view of everything you have to offer. Except it's not like he remembers.

It's better.

"You still don't wear anything underneath—" Sunghoon mutters as his hands hover right above the curve of your waist.

"Still acting like you don't want this?" You whisper, your voice low, dripping with a promise of more.

"Fuck—" He groans as his hands find your waist, a familiar warmth shooting through his fingertips as he leans in again. His thumb brushes the skin beneath your ribs as his mouth captures your own.

He moans through the kiss, his hands slow as they trace all the lines and curves that long faded from his memory.

"How many—fuck," Sunghoon whispers between heated kisses, his chest rising and falling as his breath strengthens.

"How many guys have you been with—since me?" Sunghoon pants against your own swollen lips.

Your fingertips slide up his sides, tangling in his dark hair as you kiss him back with just as much enthusiasm.

"You don't get to know that answer—" You mumble against his lips.

"Fine, be that way," Sunghoon whispers into another kiss, his hands sliding down to your hips, thumbs brushing over the curve of your hipbone.

"How many made you come?" He gasps as his lips drag down your jawline, finding the thin skin of your neck.

"They—I" You stutter, the words getting caught in the same throat he simultaneously drags his lips down.

"That's what I fucking thought. Poor baby, bet they didn't even try, did they?" He mumbles into your neck as his lips drag further down your skin to your collarbone.

His hands slide from your hips to your ass, and you whimper at the contact. Familiar yet so different.

You want to curse him for being right. For calling out the fact that you haven't had a proper orgasm since the two of you broke things off.

Sunghoon lets his hands slide down the back of your thighs, your arms wrap around his neck on instinct as he picks you up.

Your head rests in the crook of his neck as he navigates the dark hall to your room with no instructions. Remembering exactly which door is yours.

"I can't Sunghoon—I fucking can't, not with a fucking toy, not with anything else." You confess into his shoulder as he lies you down in the center of the bed.

"Yeah? Missed when I used to fuck you nasty? Missed how I used to make to come over and over on my cock, yeah?" Sunghoon coaxes as he looks down at you. His fingertips are soft as they brush your hair out of your line of sight.

"Missed you—" You choke out, your throat feeling like it's wrapped in barbed wire at the confession.

And that's exactly what he wants to hear.

Sunghoon stands at the corner of the bed, swiftly pulling his black shirt up and over his chest. Revealing all the hard muscles of his pale skin.

He slips between your legs grinning against your lips as he kisses you back. 

“I missed you too, so fucking much.” 

His hand slides down your body, your thighs parting for him without request. 

He shamelessly slides his fingers through your folds, spreading the slick wetness across the expanse of your pussy. 

“Goddamn, it has been a while,” Sunghoon swears under his breath. 

He bites his lip, staring down at you as his fingertips press into your aching hole, pumping in with gentle force. 

You smile up at him, hands reaching to the side of his face to remove his fogged-up glasses with a weak laugh. 

Sunghoon shakes his head, breath panting as his fingertips curl up, hitting that sweet spot that still makes you weak. 

Your hips arch off the mattress. Sunghoon chuckles deeply as he watches you get off with just his fingers. You moan shamelessly, already clenching around his invading digits. 

You gasp as he spits on you with no warning. Fingertips pulling out of your aching hole, strings of wetness following as he drags his fingers roughly through your swollen folds to rub at your clit.

You choke on another moan. Thighs clenching, back arching off the mattress at the delicious friction between your thighs. So slick, so wet. 

“That’s it, let me hear you, God I fucking missed this, missed you,” Sunghoon confesses as he pumps his fingertips in and out even more, curving them to punch against that sweet spongey spot inside your fluttering walls. 

You cry out, hands gripping the sheets as he ruined you with his fingertips. You feel that familiar warmth pulse between your thighs.

It’s been so long. 

His hand dives in, punching harder and harder into your hole. Watching as he stretches you out. Watching as you take everything he gives with no rebuttal.

You wince as he slips another finger in, the rim of your hole stinging slightly with the aching stretch. Your lungs feel tight as he fills your channel up with his fingers. Aggressively punching your g-spot with each thrust making your eyes water in response.

“Fuck…Sunghoon, I need—“ 

“Thought you’d never ask.” He says bluntly as his fingertips withdraw from you. You gasp at the empty feeling. Hips twitching underneath him.

He brings his hand to his lips, tongue shamelessly licking off all your arousal without hesitation. He lets out a moan as the sweet taste hits his tongue.

“Did you get sweeter while I was gone?” Sunghoon teases as he licks the rest of your wetness from his fingertips. 

“Did you get bigger? Seriously look at you.” You reply as you glance at him through hazy eyes. Following the curve of his shoulder, the lines of his abdomen.

Sunghoon chuckles weakly as he shoves his fingers back into you, gathering your wetness. You watch from below as strings of arousal connect his fingers to your pussy as he withdraws them once more.

He locks eyes with you, bringing his glistening fingers to your lips, painting them with your own arousal. 

“Fuck…” he whispers under his breath as he paints your lips with your own juices. Your lips are already so swollen, and plump from the fiction of his.

“Open?” He asks reluctantly, like he’s asking for permission to push this to another level before it’s really even got started.

The curve of your lips tugs up into a weak smile before you open your mouth. Letting him shove his wet fingers in with a sharp gasp.

You taste yourself on your tongue, moaning at the gesture. Making sure to lick his fingertips clean before he reluctantly pulls them out of your mouth.

Sunghoon rests above you, panting, gasping for breath as his fingertips hook into the waistband of his sweats, gently pulling them down enough to let his hard cock spring free. 

You moan at the sight, he’s huge, hard, already swollen, and leaking with need. Your legs subconsciously part without instruction as you look at the cock you’ve been missing.

The sound of sharp breathing fills the air as he hooks one of your legs overtop his shoulder. Preparing to hit angles that are sure to make you see stars. 

His brows furrow as his tip slides between your wet folds. A soft gasp falls from your own lips. 

It feels so fucking good. 

You melt into the bedsheets, feeling his pre-come mix with your wetness as he slides his swollen tip between your crevices, his eyes locked on the sight, lips parted. 

He lets out a deep, punishing moan as he slides through your slick again, watching as your wetness drips onto his pale cock, the light reflecting off the wetness coating his length.

His eyes roll back as he slips through you’re slick mess. Your hands grab his shoulders, nails digging into his pale skin at the heat of his cock between your lower lips.

“Holy fuck…” Sunghoon curses as he notches himself in your dripping hole. Shutting his eyes tight to steady himself. 

You clench around his invading length. Walls fluttering at the pleasured stretch. His swollen tip stretches your hole, the sight erotic as you struggle to open up and take the size. 

He glances at you one last time for consent. You nod, already feeling so full from just his fucking tip. You arch off the mattress, scratching at his shoulders as you feel him forcing his way in.

His forearms steady on either side of your head as he pushes inside you. His cock was already throbbing from the wet stretch.

He forces his way in, brutal inch after inch. Gasping as you clench him like you don’t want to let him go.

Sunghoon moans deeply his lungs full as the feeling of you gripping him sends warmth through his entire body. His arms shake at your sides as he bottoms out inside your wet hole. 

“Goddamn…” Sunghoon curses as he stalls for a moment. Sweaty forehead resting against your own as he struggles to breathe normally.

He grips the sheets on the side of your head, using the force of his spine to pull back his hips. Earning another gasp from your lips. 

A smile tugs at the edge of his lips with disbelief. Disbelief that he went so long without this, without you. 

“Fucking missed that didn’t you?” He groans as he pauses with his hips back. Swollen still notched inside your wetness. 

“Sun—“

“Say it. Say you fucking missed all of me.” He gasps as his forearms burn with the strain of holding his body up.

He pauses, letting you clench around the inch of his inviting tip. Aching to pull the rest of him back into your warmth. 

“I missed you. GOD FUCK—“ you yell as he slams back into you with bruising force. His cock stretching you so wide it makes your eyes water and hips buckle. 

“Fuck yeah. Look at this pussy. Fucking taking it, keep taking my cock, God—“ Sunghoon pants as he bottoms out inside again, your legs cramping at the fullness.

 The tip of his dick kisses your cervix as he grinds deep. He drops down, letting his lips brush against yours as he gasps for air. His mouth breathing in the oxygen of yours. 

He rolls his hips up, making your vision go blurry with the agonizing force. Your back arches off the mattress as your nails drag down his biceps, leaving scratches deep enough to last until morning. 

“Fuck, I can’t—“ you gasp for air as he takes it out of your very lungs, with his cock, with his lips. 

“You can…look. You’re taking it," Sunghoon coaxes as his lips drag across your jaw. Kissing your hot skin as he grinds into you slower, deeper.

He slows his movements, the lack of friction making you whimper with the ache. One of his hands lifts off the bed, gently brushing your hair behind your ears. Gently cupping the side of your face. 

He leans in to kiss you. Slowly, deeply, as he pushes out all the emotions of regret, want, everything into your mouth. 

You take it, swallowing it back as your tongue slips through the seam of his lips. Tangling with his own, as yours caresses it back. 

He pants as you come apart, his hair sweaty, sticking to his forehead as he starts to thrust into you again. 

Your eyes roll back with the pleasure. Arms weak as they fall to from his body your sides. You’re completely out of his as he laces his fingertips with your own. 

You feel the wetness running down the sheets, warmth hitting your lower back as he thrusts into your wet hole. Dripping more and more with each delicious thrust of desire. 

“You're soaked…” Sunghoon mumbles as his hands gently release yours to anchor your hips harder to the bed. 

He adjusts your ankles to rest on his shoulders as he thrusts in deeper and deeper. Lips parted as he watches you take all he has to offer you. 

Your breasts bounce in time with his thrusts. Your head rested against the pillows as he set a steady rhythm. 

“Oh my God, I’ve never seen you make such a mess—shit.” He gasps as his massive cock slips out of your wetness. 

You wince at the cold, empty feeling, eyes hazy as you watch his cock slap against his lower stomach, more of your arousal slapping against the top of his thighs. 

“Sorry..I can’t—“ you cry out, pussy throbbing at the emptiness. 

“Don’t…no this is just��holy shit—“Sunghoon breathes out as his hand wraps around the base of his cock, using your slick to give it a few steady pumps before he lines himself back up with your aching heat. 

“Still with me?” Sunghoon coaxes… his hand gently cupping your cheek. His thumb brushed softly against the fullness. 

“Yeah…yeah—“ you pant, sweat sliding down your temples as he kisses you again. Thrusting back into your heat with slick ease. 

His hands slide down your sides, gently lowering your legs off his shoulders to push your thighs back towards the mattress. 

The back of your thighs strains as your knees hit the sheets. Your pussy completely exposed for him to brutally ruin. 

He continues his pace, thrusting slower, deeper, harder. The new angle makes you slip in and out of consciousness as he hits those deep spots that send a slap of pleasure throughout your whole entire body. 

The wet obscene sound of your slick bubbling around his cock interrupts the sharp breaths between you two. It splashes out of your hole, against the top of his thighs with each rough thrust. 

“Fuck..I can’t stop dripping..” you whimper as your head falls back against the sheets. The coolness against your skin making you shiver. 

“Never said I wanted you too.” Sunghoon finishes as he thrusts down and up. Knowing the inside of your body like no one else. 

“Fuck I’m gonna come…” You gasp as you feel your thighs grow tense. Pussy throbbing as you grip him with every dragging thrust.

Your abs tighten, back arching up to meet the angle of his brutal movements. 

Your eyes flutter shut as your vision goes blurry. Fingers and toes feeling numb at the intensity of how hard he’s fucking you. Your grow limp fighting not to slip out of consciousness. 

“Shit..you still with me? Stay with me..come on” Sunghoon gasps, gently patting the side of your face to keep you from slipping away. 

“Coming…coming..” you whisper weakly as your body tenses up. Back arching as waves of arousal flow through every nerve in your body. 

You clench down on him hard, pulling his fullness in as you release around him. Dripping onto his cock, his thighs and the sheets. 

Sunghoon lets out an animalistic groan at the heat, at the tight pull. He gently rocks into you. Eyes wide as he watches every flutter of your lashes as you come down from your high. 

You feel him pulsing inside, his hips jerking as he gets closer and closer to his own release. 

“I’m gonna come..fuck, where do you want it?” He gasps frantically on the edge of release.

“I—“

Before you can respond he’s coming undone, pulling his cock out of your slick as ropes of cum drop onto your stomach and tits. 

He groans deep as he pumps himself through his orgasm, coming hard and long. 

You moan softly as his hot cum paints your skin. Mixing with the wet sheets and sweat, making everything so fucking wet and sticky. 

He collapses on top of your body. His hot skin falling into his own cum as his body goes completely limp. 

His eyes widen and his heart races as the image of your weak face flashes over and over. His hands hold you tighter, gripping your sides to make sure you’re still here with him. 

“I’m sorry..was I too rough? Fuck you just felt so good, I—didn’t realize. You almost passed out on me, you stopped talking and I—..” Sunghoon confesses, his brows furrowed with worry. 

You interrupt with a soft chuckle. Smiling up at him in the mess. Fingertips gently pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. You reach over to the bedside table. Grabbing his glasses and gently sliding them back on his face. 

You laugh softly as you adjust them. Sunghoons eyes wide as you straighten the glasses on his nose. 

“I did pass out—well, almost. But I would’ve told you to stop if I didn’t want it,” you confess gently, cupping the side of his face. 

“Like I said. I haven’t come in awhile.” You say voice cracking at the confession. 

“We need a fucking safe word..” Sunghoon says weakly as he kisses you again—Slow, uncoordinated, and sloppy. 

You smile against his lips., his glasses already fogging up from the heat between you two. 

“So you’re suggesting you’ll be back rough enough for me to need one?” You say with a cheeky smile. Hands gently holding him close in all the mess. 

“Depends…do you want me back?” Sunghoon asks. His voice shakier that it’s been all night. 

Your heart races as you look up into his eyes, tugging you right back in his direction. Even if the path ahead doesn't look picture perfect.

“I do.” 

© brokenengene

kate's note: Like promised, here is "nasty" It was heavily inspired by the whole Positions album(iykyk). I really stepped out of my comfort zone with this, but I'm overall happy with the result. I hope Sunghoon's brokenengene debut lands strong. I've been wanting to write for him forever, and I've finally got this fic all tied up in a nice bow for you guys.

I also have a long fic coming soon for the sunghoon fans. The taglist is open if you want to be notified when it drops!

Like always, I appreciate all the feedback and support

I wish all of you well,

xoxo kate <3

perm taglist: @aggarwaldrishti @kristynaaah @vanillaxbambi @ninistranaut @dulcetnostalgia @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @nesquikluvr @osakinanadesu @m1kkso

[emergencyplumbingil]

The grand entrance wall cascade waterfall fountain installation

This grand entrance free-standing wall cascade waterfall fountain installation is absolutely breathtaking! The seamless integration of the water feature elevates the space with a touch of elegance and tranquility.

Kudos to Emergency Plumbing for providing the top-notch plumbing supply needed to bring this masterpiece to life. Truly a stunning addition that captures the essence of luxury and serenity.

Proudly servicing local communities of North Shore and Northwest suburbs of Chicago Illinois for all your plumbing needs.

Phone 224-754-1984

www.emergencyplumbing.biz

[ln4z]

take my hand, take my whole life too

fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff!!!! for once no horniness on this acc lol. js a lil blurb because istg these were the best two hours of my life. older bf!lando! mentions of love bombing but ofc no love bombing, & dido and aneas — a greek mythological couple

it was a british grand prix from hell—for you. the car was slower in fp1 and fp2 because of a new suspension you were testing out. in fp3 ollie crashed into you in pits. the quali wasn't any better. the mechanics did whatever they could but you could only get to p6 in q3. the race was another story. absolutely shit pitstops, wrong tyres—and rain. the best you could manage was a p5 after your position tumbled down the order because of a long pit stop.

but it was all roses and sunshines for someone.

"lan." you called out—helmet and gloves gone, hair cascading down (because ofcourse, ofcourse the hairtie snapped) holding your weight ticket in your hand. the british boy, the hometown hero turned around. a cheshire like grin spreading on his face underneath that balaclava, underneath that helmet.

lando walked towards you with open arms. immediately caging you in a hug. you heard his sigh, a sigh of relief muffled from the helmet. his gloved hands immediately coming to a fistful of your hairs—force of habit, that’s what he calls it.

"i'm so proud of you. you deserve it." you muttered against his ear. lando put his visor down as his eyes burned with fresh tears—hand coming to rub your back soothingly. because god, this was all he could ask for. winning on the home soil, with his parents, his fans ( the infamous fluro green sticking out ), and you.

"fuck, i love you so much." lando immediately froze at his words. it's barely been a month since you two started dating after the fateful monaco gp. he knows what people your age call it—love bombing. and he swear that wasn't the intent.

his hands fell from your head, now holding your chin. grey-green eyes meticulously scanning for signs of discomfort. "i—yo—i'm sorry. you don't have to say it back—i—" because what was he even supposed to say before i'm sorry or you don't have to say it back.

you just smiled, put his visor up and pulled him for another hug. "i love you too, you know." you chuckled. "i—i am not trying to love bomb you. i swear!" he exclaimed, swaying your bodies side by side. you couldn't help but chuckle at his words. "you're too old to know all those words. is it some other girl teaching you?" you teased. "darling s'just you. all you...." he whined, holding you tighter.

"but i love you, i really do. like back to the moon, stars, and earth or however that saying goes. like those poetries you read. more than they could every express. more than words could ever express!" he added—pulling away from you. "and this is not love bombing, my dear." you let out a coy smile as he bopped your nose.

"stay around?" he asked. "yeah." you nodded because how could you even think of missing out on this special podium. but just as you turned around he grabbed you by the arm. "where are you going? you said you're staying?" even the helmet couldn't hide the slight panic and neediness of his tone. "i'm just going to infrom someone before toto sends a search party." you replied gently. lando nodded, letting you walk away.

but even as you could still feel his eyes on you. he looked like dido — holding a log, watching aneas leave. you motioned for him to go to the rest of the people waiting for him but he just stayed rooted — as if making sure you got safely to the Mercedes garage. as if you weren’t driving at 300kph awhile ago.

[kuramirocket]

Here are my score and rankings in the mini games for Odyssey:

Some of these games were hell. If you know, you know.

The jump rope, volleyball and rc car challenges were so fcking frustrating omfg. They took me forever. The Iceburn circuit was pretty up there too.

As for the Koopa free running the only ones I found hard on some level were the ones in the Cascade, Lake, and Lost Kingdom from what I recall. The other ones were pretty easy once I saw the path all the Koopas took or I just found the quickest path myself. Lol

I was just so glad when I finally got the power moons for passing them. Definitley some of the hardest power moons to get in the game @-@

[aigle-suisse]

Cascade de Heidenbad par Sylvain Abdoul Photographie Via Flickr : La Thur

[jjkssin]

Embrace of Ruins. Jk

Pairing: King jk x widowed (fem) reader.

Character count: 14,962

Genre: Dark Romance | Historical

Tropes: Dominant , controlling jk, forced proximity, obsession , captive romance, war , fragile female lead, mentions of death, mature.

Summary: When ruthless warlord Jeon conquers a rival kingdom, he slaughters its royal bloodline including the cruel king who once claimed Y/N as his wife. But instead of casting her aside, Jeon takes her as his own, stripping her of her former title and making her his possession. She was never meant to be a queen. She was meant to be his.

The air reeked of blood and burning wood, the sky dark with the smoke of a fallen kingdom. Screams had long since faded into silence, leaving only the sound of victorious banners fluttering in the wind.

The Kingdom had fallen.

This was not just another kingdom swallowed by his empire. No this war had been waged with a purpose far beyond power. It was her. The ghost of a woman he had never seen, only heard of in whispers the famed beauty of the lost kingdom, Y/N.

People had spoken of her ethereal grace, of her skin that glowed like moonlight and eyes that held galaxies within them.

At the heart of the carnage, Jeon sat upon the grand throne, one boot resting on the fallen king’s lifeless body and the golden crown of the fallen king crushed beneath his boot.

The scent of blood and smoke lingered in the air mingling with the screams of the last remnants of a dying dynasty.

His victory was absolute. The kingdom now belonged to him. And so did everything within it.

Including her.

She was a vision in a silk dress , the color of winter’s first snow.

___

Amidst it all, She ran.

Bare feet against the cold marble, her silken gown now soaked in the lifeblood of her people, dragging behind her like a ghostly shroud. The palace corridors, once familiar, had become a maze of death and ruin. She barely noticed the bodies, the shattered glass of once grand chandeliers. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heartbeat, the rasp of her breath and the distant clamor of armored boots in pursuit.

She had seen him.

He had stood amidst the wreckage of her throne room, a wolf in the den of slaughter, dark eyes scanning the ruin with calculated indifference.

He had looked at her like a claim already made, and that had been enough to send her fleeing.

She stumbled through the grand doors of the palace and into the frozen night, her thin gown no barrier against the relentless cold. Snowflakes kissed her tear streaked cheeks as she pushed forward, her breath rising in desperate clouds.

The forest loomed ahead a tangle of frostbitten branches and endless dark. She plunged into its depths without hesitation. The crown she had once been forced to wear had been torn from her head, her hair cascading around her face in disheveled waves.

The trees whispered around her, the wind howling like a grieving specter. Her feet tore through the frozen undergrowth, bare skin sliced by unseen thorns but she did not stop.

She could not stop.

She knew they would come. She had seen it in his eyes obsidian pools that swallowed light, a gaze that spoke of possession and a hunger far more dangerous than the battlefield he had razed.

She tried to be silent, tried to disappear into the vast expanse of snow and night but her body betrayed her. A misstep her foot catching on a hidden root sent her tumbling forward. She crashed into the snow, pain exploding through her limbs as she gasped, clawing at the frost with trembling hands.

She scrambled to rise, but it was too late.

A shadow loomed over her, swallowing the pale light of the moon.

Him.

The air shifted with his presence, heavy with something she could not name. His breath came steady, controlled, unaffected by the chase. He had known this would happen. He had allowed her to run, entertained her futile escape before closing in like a beast playing with his prey.

"You thought you could run from me?" His voice was velvet over steel, dark and slow, as though savoring the moment.

Y/N trembled, her body wracked with exhaustion, yet she found herself inching back, her palms sinking into the snow.

Jeon crouched before her, gloved fingers tilting her chin upwards, forcing her to meet the gaze she had so desperately tried to avoid.

"You should know better" he murmured, his lips brushing against hers. "I do not chase what I do not intend to catch."

The rumors had not done her justice.

She was exquisite, a masterpiece carved by the gods themselves.

Even in her disarray, she was ethereal.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she did not fight. She had nothing left to fight for.

A cruel smile tugged at Jeon's lips as he leaned forward.

"Your king is dead. Your kingdom is mine"

With that his hand moved lower, gliding down the torn fabric of her gown, feeling the tremor beneath his touch. And then without warning, he slid his arms beneath her one under her knees, the other wrapping around her back.

She gasped as the ground disappeared beneath her, the sudden closeness of him knocking the breath from her lungs. Her hands instinctively grasped at his shoulders, clutching at the thick fabric of his cloak as he lifted her effortlessly.

The world around them blurred as Jeon carried her back, his strides slow, deliberate, savoring every second of the act.

His men stood waiting at the forest’s edge, their eyes carefully averted, knowing better than to interrupt.

Jeon was the master of every inch of this kingdom now but she was a different kind of victory.

A victory he would not let slip from his grasp

__

Jeon had wanted her from the moment he had laid eyes on her. A forbidden desire had taken root deep within him when he had first seen her beside the now dead king , a man unworthy of even touching the hem of her gown, much less claiming her as his.

__

The journey from the snow laden forest to Jeon’s kingdom was a silent one. His kingdom loomed ahead like a fortress of stone, walls that could never be breached.

When they finally crossed the threshold into the warmth of Jeon’s kingdom, the heavy iron gates closed behind them with a resounding clang, sealing off the outside world.

He called for his servants, his voice firm and authoritative.

“Take her to my chambers,” he ordered coldly. “Strip her of the dead king’s colors. She wears only what I give her now.”

__

The scent of lavender and jasmine filled the air as the maids scrubbed away the blood, the dirt, the remnants of her former life.

But no matter how many times they washed her, no matter how many hands gently soothed her skin, there were things that could not be erased.

The marks on her body. The scars both physical and emotional that she had borne under her husband’s cruel reign.

Afterward, Y/N was dressed in a delicate white nightgown. It clung to her thin frame, the silk soft against her skin, but it did nothing to ease the chill in her bones. The gown was far more modest than the opulent dress she had worn in her past life but it was far too intimate for her current circumstances.

As the maids finished their task, they led her down the stone corridors of Jeon’s castle to his private chambers.

The room was enormous, warm with a roaring fire. She stood silently before him, her eyes cast downward. Jeon stood by the bed his posture strong, unyielding and as always, a palpable aura of control surrounded him.

He moved toward her without a word, his presence overwhelming.

His eyes narrowed as they settled on her shoulders and arms.

His fingers hovered near her shoulder, brushing against the faded remnants of bruises.

“That pathetic excuse for a king,” he spat, his voice dripping with disgust.

“A man unworthy of a throne, unworthy of a crown and certainly unworthy of you."

Jeon growled, his hands flexing as if he longed to tear apart a man who was already rotting in the ground.

"What did you call him?" he mused, tilting his head. "My king? My husband?" He laughed, dark and mocking.

"No king allows his castle to fall while he cowers in his chambers. And a husband…" He paused, his fingers ghosting over the fading bruises on her wrist.

His expression turned cold. "A husband does not treat his wife like a common whore to be used and discarded. I barely had to lift my blade before he was groveling at my feet, begging for his life like a spineless dog"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, the image flashing in her mind. She had not loved the king, but his death had been brutal. The sound of steel slicing through flesh, the gurgled choking as he bled out it haunted her.

Jeon exhaled, stepping back slightly.

"I should make you my whore," he mused. "A slave to warm my bed, nothing more. It would be fitting for the widow of such a disgraceful man."

Her stomach twisted in fear.

"But no," he murmured, as if reconsidering. "Though your husband was a disgrace, you are now mine"

His gaze darkened, something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

"Did he ever touch you properly?" Jeon murmured, his voice turning low, almost teasing.

Jeon chuckled darkly. “Of course not. I imagine he was just as pathetic in bed as he was on the battlefield. Weak. Incompetent.”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her ear. “Did he even know what to do with you? Or did he fumble like the fool he was?”

Y/N’s breath stuttered. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating. She didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to think about it.

Jeon chuckled at her silence.

“You will no longer be a widow,” he said casually, as if discussing the weather.

“You will be my wife. You wil bear my mark and sleep in my bed and by the time I am done with you, you will forget you ever belonged to anyone else.” His voice low in command.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. "W-what?

Jeon smirked, amused by her reaction. "You are still royalty, no matter how pathetic your bloodline is. And I do not waste what has value." He reached for her again, his fingers brushing over the fabric of her underdress.

Before she could protest, Jeon grasped the thin strap of her underdress and pulled, the silk slipping from her shoulder with ease.

Y/N gasped, instinctively clutching the fabric to her chest.

"Still shy?" His fingers trailed down her arm, his touch deceptively soft.

"Your husband must have taken his pleasures without care. Rushed. Unskilled."

His gaze flickered over her, unreadable.

"A shame. I prefer to savor what is mine."

Y/N trembled as he grasped the other strap, slowly sliding it down her shoulder. The silk pooled at her collarbones, threatening to slip further.

Y/N’s throat tightened, a tear slipping down her cheek . Heat rushed to her cheeks, shame and something unfamiliar twisting inside her.

"You were wasted on him," Jeon murmured. "But you will not be wasted on me."

His hand gripped her waist, pulling her closer. She gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"You will be my wife before the sun rises. And no kingdom, no force in this world will take you from me."

Jeon murmured, his voice laced with something deeper, something unshakable.

“I could touch you in ways that pathetic fool never could. I could make you beg, make you forget he ever existed.”

His hands slid lower, gripping her thighs holding her still.

“You will know what it means to be wanted,” he promised. “To be craved.”

She closed her eyes as his lips descended, as his touch deepened, as the last of her old self was stripped away like the silks of her gown.

She had been the queen of a doomed king. A nameless ghost in a gilded cage. A woman forgotten by the very man who had sworn to own her.

But Jeon was not a man who forgot what belonged to him.

He pressed her back against the silk draped bed, his gaze burning into hers as he loomed above her, all shadow and heat, all power and intent.

"You will curse me," he whispered, his lips hovering just above hers, "and you will crave me all the same."

His mouth claimed her then, slow and consuming, as if proving his words true. As if sealing the vow between them with something far more binding than marriage, more damning than devotion.

She let herself sink, let herself be undone, because there was no kingdom left to fight for, no crown left to bear, only this. Only him.

And as his hands traced a path of ruin and worship alike, she realized something with aching finality.

She was not lost. She had simply been claimed.

__

The first light of dawn crept through the towering windows, painting the stone walls in hues of muted gold. The warmth of the sun did nothing to chase away the lingering shadows of the night before.

She stirred, her body aching not from pain, but from the imprint of him.

Her body heavy with exhaustion.

Her skin burned where his touch had claimed her, the memory of his hands and his voice still lingering in her senses like a lingering scent, impossible to escape.

She blinked against the morning light, the thick, heavy silence of the room pressing down upon her. The bed was empty beside her, the space where Jeon had been only a ghost of heat.

A low voice broke the silence. “Did you sleep well?”

Her body tensed, her muscles still trembling from the storm of the night before. Jeon stood near the tall windows, his silhouette framed by the light, his presence as imposing as ever.

He looked unchanged powerful, untouchable.

"Get up," he commanded, already reaching for the black silk robe draped over a nearby chair. "We have matters to attend to."

She hesitated, sitting up slowly, the silk sheets slipping from her bare shoulders.

"What matters?"

Jeon turned, fastening the robe around his waist, "Our wedding."

Her breath caught.

Jeon chuckled, "What? Did you think I would leave you as a nameless concubine?" He stepped closer, gripping her chin between his fingers.

She searched his gaze, trying to understand, to make sense of this shift. "Then... I will be the queen of this place?"

"You wish to rule?" His voice was measured but there was an edge of something deeper beneath it.

Y/N swallowed hard. "No. But.." She hesitated, unsure how to put the ache in her.

She trailed off, shame burning in her throat.

Jeon studied her, a thoughtful hum vibrating from his chest. "You are not meant for war," he said at last.

"Not meant for bloodshed and for dirty politics." He tilted his head, his gaze heavy.

"You are meant for me."

His words did not soothe her as he likely intended them to.

She had listened. She had obeyed. She had surrendered in body.

But she would not surrender this.

"I will not marry you," she said, her voice quiet, yet firm.

"I will not be your wife unless I am your queen," Y/N said, her voice trembling but unwavering. "You took my kingdom, my home, my name. If I am to be bound to you, I will not be just another possession. "

His fingers curled slightly, then relaxed. Slowly, he turned, dark eyes locking onto her with something unreadable something slow-burning, something dangerous.

"You will," he said simply.

She lifted her chin, a flicker of defiance breaking through her usual obedience.

"Not if I am not to be queen."

A slow, mirthless smirk tugged at his lips. "Is that what you want?" He stepped toward her, his presence suffocating, the air in the room shifting like a storm about to break.

"A throne?"

She clenched her fists in her lap, her pulse thrumming against her throat. "I was a queen before you tore my kingdom apart." Her voice did not waver, though her breath did. "I will not be cast aside as some nameless wife while you rule alone."

Jeon studied her in silence, the weight of his gaze heavy, assessing. Then, without warning, he moved.

Faster than she could react, his fingers closed around her throat not choking, not hurting, just a firm grip, possessive, commanding. He tilted her head back, forcing her to look up at him, his thumb pressing lightly against the delicate pulse at her neck.

"You speak as though you have a choice."

She gasped softly but she did not break away.

Jeon’s other hand traced the curve of her jaw, his touch deceptively gentle, a contrast to the quiet fury simmering in his dark eyes.

"You were not a queen," he murmured. "You were a prisoner in a cage, a wife to a spineless rat who did not deserve you. You wore a crown but it was never truly yours. "

His fingers tightened slightly around her throat, enough to remind her of his power, enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"And now, you demand a throne beside me?" He leaned closer, his breath fanning against her lips. "No. You will kneel before it instead."

Her heart pounded, her breath shallow, but she still managed to whisper "If I mean nothing more than a body in your bed, end this now."

The air shifted violently.

Jeon’s grip tightened for the briefest moment just long enough to make her dizzy before he released her completely. He exhaled sharply, stepping back, his jaw taut, his gaze dark with something volatile.

For the first time since conquering this land, since taking her, someone had denied him.

And he did not tolerate defiance.

"Very well," he murmured, his voice eerily calm. "If you will not walk to the altar, you will be dragged to it."

Today, she would become his wife.

Not his queen.

He would marry her, not as a political arrangement, not as a necessity but because he wanted her.

He was a conqueror. He alone was enough to rule his land.

__

The silk gown clung to Y/N’s trembling frame, the deep red fabric as heavy as the chains she could not see but could feel in every step she was forced to take. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails pressing into her palms as the realization settled deeper into her bones. The room was deathly silent, the air thick with the scent of incense and candle wax.

Jeon stood before her, a predator draped in black and gold, exuding dominance with every breath. His patience was a thinly veiled thing, stretching dangerously as he watched her remain still, unmoving, unyielding.

"Come forward," he commanded, his voice steady but edged with warning.

Her feet refused to move.

In a single, fluid motion, he closed the distance between them, his fingers wrapping around her wrist in an iron grip. He yanked her forward, forcing her to stumble against his chest.

“You speak of power as if it is something I would give you,” he murmured, his voice deceptively soft, venom laced beneath the words. “You forget your place.”

She gasped, struggling against his grip, but he was relentless, his fingers digging into her wrist as he pulled her through the vast hall.

"You will stand beside me, Y/N," he said, voice cold, final. "But a throne is not something I share."

He did not stop until they stood before the officiant.

A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

Jeon studied her for a moment before sighing, almost in disappointment.

“I was willing to grant you this wedding without force. To let you walk beside me, instead of dragging you like a conquered spoil of war.”

“I did not win this kingdom with patience. I won it with blood.”

Then, louder, he addressed the officiant. “Begin.”

The ceremony was as empty as her heart. No grand feast, no celebration. Just her, him and the officiant bearing witness to the binding of a vow. She repeated them in a hollow whisper, her voice barely her own.

But as he pulled her in for the final kiss, sealing her beneath his name, his rule.

He tasted the salt of her tears on her lips.

For a moment, just a moment, he felt the bitter sting of something less than victory.

Because despite binding her to him, despite claiming her, despite stealing her body, her name. He felt the weight of something he could not conquer.

He had burned kingdoms for her. Killed kings for her. Stolen her from the ashes of a life she never wanted. Yet her sadness was a wound he could not stitch.

Jeon had indeed won the war.

But he had not won her.

__

(End)🤍

[ari-ana-bel-la]

hello! can you write for Charles taking his baby girl for her first haircut to his mom’s salon? And like the whole family doing lunch afterwards and just spoiling the baby

A Special First Haircut

The soft morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Charles' apartment, casting a warm glow over the living room where little Yn sat on the floor, playing with her stuffed animals. She was humming to herself, completely immersed in a made-up conversation between her plush rabbit and a tiny toy horse. Charles watched her from the couch, a fond smile on his lips.

His daughter, his sweet sunshine.

Yn was the kind of child who made every day brighter just by existing. She was all golden curls and sparkling green eyes, her laughter the most beautiful sound in the world. She had inherited her grandmother’s and uncle Arthur’s blond hair, though Charles liked to say it had a little of his messy touch to it. It was long now, cascading down her back in soft waves, and today was the day she would get her first-ever haircut.

Charles had made up his mind instantly—there was no one else he would trust for such an important moment except his maman.

"Mon amour," Charles called, standing up and walking over to Yn, crouching down beside her. "Are you ready to go see Grand-mère?"

Yn gasped excitedly, immediately dropping her toys and looking up at him with wide, excited eyes. "Yes! Grand-mère! She’s gonna cut my hair, right, Papa?"

"Oui," he confirmed, running his fingers gently through her soft curls. "But just a little. Your hair is too pretty to cut too much."

Yn giggled, clearly pleased, and jumped up. She immediately ran toward her little coat, struggling to put it on in her excitement. Charles helped her, chuckling at her enthusiasm, before grabbing the car keys.

"Let’s go, ma princesse."

When they arrived at Pascale’s salon, Charles could already see his mother through the glass storefront, tending to a client. As soon as she noticed them, her entire face lit up with joy. She quickly wrapped up the appointment, saying a few kind words to the woman in the chair before ushering her out with a warm smile.

Then, she did something Charles fully expected—she flipped the sign on the door to "Closed" and locked it.

"Charles! Mon ange!" Pascale greeted, pulling her son into a tight hug before bending down to Yn's level. "And my beautiful, beautiful granddaughter!"

Yn let out an excited squeal and threw herself into her grandmother’s arms. Pascale laughed, lifting her up easily despite her small frame. She pressed several kisses to Yn’s cheek, making the little girl giggle and squirm in her grasp.

"Grand-mère!" Yn squeaked between laughs. "You’re tickling me!"

Pascale pulled back with a mock gasp. "Oh no! I would never!" She then ran a gentle hand through Yn’s hair, eyes softening. "My little sunshine, are you ready for your special haircut?"

Yn nodded quickly. "Yes! Papa said not too much!"

"Of course," Pascale agreed, setting her down gently before looking at Charles. "Would you like me to trim it just a little, keep it neat?"

Charles nodded. "Just enough to keep it healthy, maman. I can’t let her lose her princess curls just yet."

Pascale laughed, then gestured toward the styling chair. "Come, mon trésor. Let’s get you all set up."

Yn eagerly climbed into the chair, legs dangling adorably. Pascale carefully fastened a tiny cape around her, making sure she was comfortable before gently combing through her golden locks.

As she worked, Charles pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to his brothers.

Charles: Yn is getting her first haircut. Maman closed the salon just for her. You two want to come?

Lorenzo replied almost instantly.

Lorenzo: Of course! Charlotte and I are coming.

A second later, Arthur’s response appeared.

Arthur: I’m on my way!

Charles smiled, already picturing how much his family was going to fuss over Yn. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked up just in time to see Pascale snipping the very first strand of Yn’s hair. The little girl watched in the mirror with wide, fascinated eyes.

"That’s my hair!" Yn exclaimed, staring at the small golden lock Pascale had cut.

"It is," Pascale said with a smile.

As Pascale continued working, the door opened, and Lorenzo walked in, his arm wrapped around Charlotte’s waist. Arthur followed closely behind, looking just as excited.

"Lorenzo! Arthur! Charlotte!" Yn squealed, waving at them from the chair.

"Mon petit trésor!" Lorenzo grinned, immediately walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Look at you! Such a big girl, getting her first haircut!"

Charlotte smiled warmly. "You look adorable, Yn."

Arthur leaned down, resting his arms on the back of the chair. "Are you sure you want to cut your princess hair?" he teased.

Yn giggled. "Grand-mère says I still get to keep my princess hair!"

"Of course she does," Pascale said, sending Arthur a pointed look before ruffling his hair. "Don’t make her second-guess it."

Arthur raised his hands in surrender, grinning. "Alright, alright."

The adults stepped back, letting Pascale finish trimming Yn’s hair. But then—

The salon suddenly filled with the sound of Yn’s uncontrollable giggles.

Everyone turned their heads in surprise, only to see Pascale holding the blow dryer, directing warm air toward Yn’s head. Her hair was flying in all directions, making her laugh so hard she had to grab onto the armrests to keep from wriggling too much.

"PAPA, LOOK!" Yn giggled. "MY HAIR IS FLYING!"

Charles grinned, pulling out his phone to snap a quick picture. "You look like a little fairy, ma princesse."

"Or a lion!" Arthur added.

"Lion princess!" Yn declared, still giggling.

Lorenzo chuckled, shaking his head. "She’s too cute."

When Pascale finally finished, she turned off the blow dryer and carefully ran her fingers through Yn’s hair one last time.

"There," she said proudly. "My beautiful sunshine, all done."

Yn turned her head from side to side, admiring herself in the mirror. "It’s so pretty!"

Charles leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "You’re always pretty, mon amour."

Everyone else immediately chimed in with compliments.

"You look like a real princess!" Charlotte said.

"The cutest princess ever," Arthur added.

"Perfection," Lorenzo agreed.

Yn, slightly overwhelmed by all the attention, giggled shyly and reached for her father. Charles laughed and scooped her up, letting her hide her face in his neck.

"My little shy baby," he murmured, rubbing her back gently.

Pascale smiled fondly at the scene before clapping her hands together. "Alright, now that we’re done, who’s ready for lunch?"

"Me!" Yn perked up instantly. "I’m so hungry!"

Arthur ruffled her hair. "Then let’s go! I think our little princess deserves a big treat today."

At lunch, Yn was completely spoiled by her uncles. Arthur insisted she get a chocolate milkshake, while Lorenzo made sure she had extra fries. Charlotte helped her color on the kids’ menu, and Pascale couldn’t stop pressing kisses to her forehead.

Charles just sat back, watching it all with a full heart.

His little sunshine, surrounded by love.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

[stormydayzgamez]

TS3→ Random Lepacy 3.29: In Motion

These families have no pause button. They're in constant forward motion. What are they moving toward? The next generation of course!

[misswynters]

His most prized possession

featuring. viktor x fem!reader

warnings. smut (18+), standing up sex on a vanity, p in v, size kink?, soft sex, viktor being sweet :)

requested. by anon

Moonlight spilled through the grand windows, painting your bedroom in a soft silver hue, illuminating the sexual dance unfolding within. The gentle breeze swayed the sheer curtains, but all else was still. The quietness of the world beyond, very different to the heated filling the room.

Every thrust of Viktor's hips created a rhythm, the wet, lewd sounds of your connection blending seamlessly with the faint creak of the vanity beneath you. Your moans were delicate but unrestrained. Compared to the soft, breathless groans that spilled from Viktor's lips, his voice shaking with the effort to maintain control.

His long, chestnut hair, slightly damp from sweat, framed his sharp features as it fell forward over his face. A faint sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead, catching the moonlight. Viktor looked almost ethereal, his honeyed eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror before you. His lips, slightly parted, trembled as soft whimpers escaped with each thrust. The sight of him: disheveled, breathless, and utterly lost in you, only made the heat pooling in your stomach burn brighter.

He leaned over you slightly, his chest brushing your back as he let his soft fingers slide down to press gently against the small of your spine. The weight of his palm grounded you, and his other hand gripped your hip firmly, keeping you steady against the vanity. “You’re doing so well for me, my love” he murmured, his voice low and warm, yet laced with restraint. “Just like that. Don’t look away, watch us in the mirror.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his gaze in the mirror. The sight of him behind you, his toned, wiry frame moving steadily. His hips slapping against yours forward with such precision, sent shivers cascading down your spine. You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. The way he focused on you—as though you were his entire world—was intoxicating. Well you were his entire world. His most prized possession.

The wet squelching noises grew louder as his cock pushed between your folds again, his thrusts unrelenting. Each thrust was accompanied by a soft slap of skin as his hips met yours, and the vanity groaned in protest beneath the weight of your desire. Viktor’s breathing quickened, and a shaky whimper escaped his lips as he felt you tighten around him.

“Good goddess…” he whispered, his accent thick, the words catching on a moan. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingertips pressing into your skin that would definitely leave faint bruises afterwards. “You feel so… tight and sweet. I—” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale, his brow furrowing as though the pleasure coursing through him was too much to bear.

You could barely form words in response, your own voice caught in a series of soft cries and broken gasps. “Fuck. Viktor… please—” you managed, though you weren’t sure what you were begging for. More? Faster? To never stop? He seemed to understand, though, his rhythm shifting slightly, each thrust hitting deeper.

“I know,” he said, his tone gentle yet commanding. “I know what you need.” He leaned down further, his long hair brushing against your bare shoulder as he pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. The contrast of his soft lips against your heated skin sent a wave of pleasure through you, making your legs tremble beneath you.

As his pace continued, you could feel him hit the deepest part of your womb. His hand slid from your hip to your stomach, his fingers splaying wide as he pressed lightly against your abdomen. “Feel that?” he murmured, his voice like silk. “That’s me, so deep inside you. All of me.” His words sent a shiver straight to your core as you couldn’t stop yourself from arching back against him. Your body seeking more of his warmth, his touch, his everything. All the words he said and the actions he did excited you more.

You truly couldn't believe how good it felt when he pressed his hand on your stomach as he poked through you slightly. Shakingly he took your hand, lacing your fingers together to place them on your stomach. With that you could feel him poking through, as he pressed harder, the better it felt.

The mirror in front of you reflected the way your bodies moved together in perfect sync. The slight shine of sweat on your skin, the way his hand on your back and stomach kept you steady, the blush that spread across his pale cheeks—it was all so vivid. His hair clung to his forehead in damp strands, and his lips were slightly swollen from where he’d been biting down. Trying to suppress his own sounds. But all he could do was left out whiny moans, which you absolutely loved. He knew how much you loved it.

"Keep your eyes on me," he urged softly, his hand trailing up to tilt your chin, ensuring you didn't look away from the mirror. "I want you to see how perfect you are." The words, spoken in that low, reverent tone, made your heart ache with a tenderness that contrasted the heat of the moment. You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his, even as your vision blurred with tears of overwhelming sensation.

The sounds of skin slapping only grew louder as he continued, the wetness between you making each thrust more pronounced. The vanity beneath you creaked with every thrust, and you could feel the vibrations of it in your palms where they rested against the surface. Viktor's movements became slightly erratic, his control slipping as he chased his release, though he still held onto the tenderness that defined every touch.

"You feel so good," he breathed, his voice trembling as he let out another soft whimper. "I can't... I don't want to stop." His fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you back against him with each thrust, his pace quickening just enough to make your breath hitch.

Viktor's movements slowed, his pace deliberate as though he wanted to memorize every second, every sensation. His grip on your waist tightened as his long fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he adjusted his angle. Trying to draw out every ounce of pleasure for both of you. His breaths were shallow yet measured, his body trembling slightly as he kept his control.

One of his legs shifted, his knee now perched on the vanity chair behind you. The new angle allowed him to push deeper, each thrust measured and purposeful. The motion made you press further against the vanity, your hips tilting slightly, granting him an even better angle. The cool surface of the wood beneath your palms was a different than the heat that radiated between the two of you. You braced yourself, letting out a soft gasp as he slid into you fully again.

"Does this feel good, my love?" Viktor asked, his voice a breathless whisper, breaking slightly on the question. His eyes flicked between your reflection in the mirror and the way your bodies moved together, his gaze heavy with adoration and desire. He pressed his cheek against yours, as he went down to your level. Eyes locking to another as he waited for your response.

"Yes," you murmured, your voice trembling as you nodded. "So good, Viktor. Don't stop..."

A low groan escaped his lips at your words, his grip on your waist shifting as he let one hand slide upward to the curve of your back, guiding your body into the perfect position. He paused for a moment, his hips pressed flush against yours, savoring the way you clenched around him before pulling back again, just enough to feel the emptiness before pushing in with a slow, steady thrust. The wet, soft sounds of your connection filled the room. Each time he pulled out and pushed back in, the noise became more louder, the sensation drawing soft moans from your lips. Viktor let out a quiet whimper of his own as he watched you, the sound raw and unrestrained, slipping through his control.

"You're so perfect," he whispered, his accent thick as he leaned forward slightly, his breath warm against the back of your neck. "Every part of you. I want to remember this, you just like this. Forever."

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, your body responding instinctively as your hips pressed back against him. Viktor groaned at the motion, his hand moving back down to your waist, his grip tightening as he thrusts into you again, slow and deep. By now his cock has a white ring at the base due to how much the two of you have been going at it. The vanity beneath you creaked faintly each time he thrusted into you, the sound mingling with the soft whimpers and moans that escaped the both of you.

"Shit," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "Do you feel that? The way we fit... the way you take me in so perfectly?" His lips brushed against the curve of your ear as he spoke, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "It's as though you were made for me."

The pace he set left you trembling, each thrust igniting a fire that built slowly but surely. Viktor pressed his forehead to your shoulder, his hair damp and sticking to his skin, his breaths ragged. He let out another soft whimper as he felt your walls tighten around him again, his control slipping just slightly.

The coil in your stomach tightened, the heat building to a point where you felt like you might break apart entirely. "Oh my..." you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-"

"I know," he interrupted, his voice strained but full of love. "Let go, my love." His hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against your sensitive clit, and that was all it took.

Your orgasm washed over you in waves. Your body trembling as you cried out, your hands gripping the edges of the vanity for support. Viktor groaned deeply as he felt you clench around him, his own body shuddering as he followed you over the edge. He remained inside you, his breaths ragged as he pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his long hair tickling your skin. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the echoes of your passion lingering in the air. Viktor's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you upright and against his chest. "I love you, my love," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. His voice was soft, as though he couldn't quite believe you were really his.

taglist: @luneariaa @minagrayson @aliives @mammonsleftring @gxrextxgaidk @anna1-1 @bl-0-ndi-3