#((I love getting to talk about Offshore!!!))

[dimorphodon-defect]

How would Offshore react if a whale was flirting with him?

Flattery first, and then a deep sadness.

He knows he's changed (and been changed) too much to fit back into the world the way he did before, and finding a member of his previous species who still treats him as a desirable member of their community even after he became so viscerally Different from them would be both heartwarming and soul-crushing.

[undercovercameron]

hole in one

summary: you're a server at the island club, and you may or may not have a favorite customer.

notes: i'm back baby! haven't written anything in a good while but i suddenly had this image of a girly reader and a flirty golfer rafe with that season 3 buzzcut... i HAD to make a pun with this title and i'm so glad i did. also i always write rafe a little more attentive and well-meaning than he is, so take this headcanon of nice rafe with a grain of salt-- and this shit is hella dirty so please enjoy and let me know what you think ;) (also im coming back to edit this fully in a little bit but i wanted to post just to prove i still love and use this account kajddjd)

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 4453

Some things in Rafe’s life were simple pleasures. 

A cocktail during dinner, a night where all the TV he watched was reality shows, a cigarette on a night out. The silence of his childhood home. 

Golf, coincidentally, was also one of those things. The course he frequented was just a ten-minute drive from his house, and he had priority parking. As a donor and a club-member of course. The drinks were cheap, the company was even cheaper, and he had a killer swing. There was rarely an afternoon out on that green that he didn’t enjoy. He felt closest to peace when all he had to work for was getting that tiny white golf ball sunk into a hole. 

They were often sweaty putting sessions, as the North Carolina heat in the summer was no joke, but the traveling drink cart was a brief respite from that. 

“What can I get you?” You ask, bright and long-lashed. Your hair was done in a tight updo, your makeup was flawless, and not a single spec of dirt or turf lay on your uniform. You took pride in your appearance and the effects it had on the loose wallets of the Outer Banks’ finest real estate investors and offshore bank account holders. Most of all, you enjoyed a certain someone’s attention. 

Rafe peeks under the overhang of the cart and stares at your selection. He stands with his hands on his hips, gold rings flashing in the hot sunlight. You take a look at him for the first time today, eyes taking over his bent form. He has gray slacks on with a dark blue polo stretched over his well-built back, unbuttoned to show the tiniest glint of blonde chest hair and his gold chain. He spared no expense when it came to his appearance, you’d come to notice. 

“I think,” he starts, standing back up, and fixes you with his blue-eyed stare. It makes you hold back a shiver despite the heat. “A double tequila soda.” 

He gives you a once-over, admiring the way your skirt hugs your waist and the sparkle of your earrings. He always likes when the girls have their hair up— gives him a sneak peek of what it’d look like if he pulled it. 

“Three limes? Just how you like?” You ask, breaking his focus, and reach for a plastic cocktail cup. You have a freckle behind your ear, he notices. 

“Exactly right,” he says, folding his arms over his chest, and his face splits into a grin when you glance at him and blush. He could be back with his friends from highschool, talking shit about their shitty swings or increasingly high scores, but he’s not. He’s right here, watching closely as you carefully measure the ice and pour a perfect double shot. 

“How’re you guys playing today?” You ask, a humiliating attempt at small talk, and you feel sweat bead on your lower back. 

“Shit, honestly,” Rafe laughs. “These jack-offs couldn’t get a hole-in-one if it was right in front of their fucking faces. And I’ve been distracted all day.” He looks down at you over the bridge of his nose, liking the way you tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Heat getting to you?” You squeeze the final lime and turn away from the cart, holding it out with a polite smile. He takes it carefully. 

“Something like that,” he says, cocking his head, and takes a sip. Tart. Just how he likes it. “Hey.” He digs a hand into his pocket and the tips of your cheekbones heat again for some reason. “Keep the change.” He hands you a fifty. 

You take it between hesitant fingers, peering up at him. 

“The drink is $6, Rafe.” 

He always does this. Pays cash with big bills and tells you to keep the change. He gave you a twenty for a packet of peanuts one time. “I don’t know if I can legally take this.”

He just shrugs. 

“Consider it a personal donation.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” 

“Makes me feel better. I think you deserve a little extra for your services—it takes a lot of work to look that good for a bunch of old geezers in sweater vests and loafers. I know I appreciate it.” He turns and starts off towards his group, yanking his sunglasses out of his shirt and jamming them onto his face. “I like your bra, by the way. ‘S my favorite color.”

You glance down the collar of your shirt, heart thumping, and look back up. 

That stupid fucking swagger he has. He’s going to throw out his back walking around like a peacock like that. 

You tug your shirt up, hiding the red bra you’d chosen for today, and hop back on the cart. Off to another hole where another old man will look down your shirt and ask for his Manhattan with two cherries instead of one. 

You think you’ll either quit this job or start wearing a fucking monk robe. 

The next time you see him is back at the club. Your boss had you on pool bartender duty, opposed to the drink cart you favored, and you were a little out of your element. 

The customer demographic was different, which you enjoyed, but they all seemed to want a lot more and a lot quicker. There was no loitering around to small talk; you had to work quickly and attentively to earn these housewives’ measly two dollar tip on margarita pitchers. 

You had spilled raspberry purée on your company-approved golf dress more times than you could count in your six hour shift. Near the end of it, however, Rafe had made his way to the end of the bar and watched as you ducked to put away the umbrella toothpicks and quickly and secretly downed a shot of Tito’s. Drinking on the job. Hm. 

(It’s not that you like to be drunk at work; it’s more of a little ‘fuck you’ to your boss, you think.)

“Hi,” you say on an exhale, coming over and wiping the already-spotless counter with a black rag. “What can I get you?” You have dangly earrings on today, and a different shade of lipgloss than he is accustomed to.

“Two grapefruit High Noon’s.” He folds his arms and leans on the counter, so close he could smell your perfume. “I could report you for that, you know,” he says, voice as low as a whisper. You peer up at him, lips pursed, and scan his face. No ill intent. Just an easy smile and dirty eyes. 

“Oh, yeah?” You reach for the fridge underneath the mixing mats and pull two cold cans from the shelf. You sit them on the counter and stare up at him. “You’re a real upstanding customer, huh?”

“Mhm.” He twists his pointer-finger ring mindlessly. “You owe me.” The corners of his lips quirk up. 

“Oh, do I?” You ask, giving him your best ’I don’t know what you’re talking about’ look. You know he likes that. 

The fact is that you and Rafe had countless conversations exactly like this one. Whether it be at the drink cart, on the way out of the building, or back inside in the restaurant bar. He always somehow leaned over you, smiling like the flirtatious bastard that he was, and making you feel like he’d like nothing more than to take you to his car and show you how much he actually enjoyed being served by you. That’s how you imagined him in bed, at least. Proving a point. 

He takes the two cans in one hand and straightens up, fixing you with a dangerous look. 

“Your shift ends in ten minutes, yeah?” He asks. 

“Yes.” You square your shoulders and stare back. 

“Good. I’ll take you home. Well, mine.” He backs up closer to where his friends are sitting at a covered patio table, mischievous smile flashing white in the sun. 

“I have a car, you know,” you say, leaning on the counter with folded arms. You ignore the hot rush of blood in your veins from his words. “And I have to shower.”

“What makes you think I don’t have a shower?” He purses his lips, faking the wildly confused look, and turns back around to his friends. 

You just sigh, exasperated with him, and work on cleaning up your station. God, it has to be him? The boy you had a crush on in elementary school? You’ve had plenty of hookups in your adult life, but none as close to home as this one. (Literally. You live down the street.) You feel his eyes on you as you scrub a particularly defiant streak of Grenadine from the counter, and feel his gaze on your back when you turn around to get a fresh rag. It makes your face burn hot. 

You know he’s not talking about just hanging out at his place. He probably has a huge shower, for God’s sake, and probably a humongous bed. California king if you can guess. 

You bet he tastes like summer.

After your replacement comes to the bar, you take your lanyard to get into the staff locker room from a hook under the bar and make your way slowly through the gaggles of people to your designated locker. It takes a brief conversation with your boss Angela about if you left the tip jar or took the contents to finally shoulder past the last group of people. 

You tug your bag from the hook, a change of clothes and your shower stuff already packed (as you had been planning to go to the gym after work). You now know you have other forms of exercise coordinated. You give yourself a final look in the little mirror on your locker. Here goes nothing. 

Rafe is waiting outside the swinging door when you push past it, button up shirt and shoes haphazardly thrown on. He immediately takes your bag from you and slings it over one massive shoulder, starting for the exit. 

“I can carry my own things, Rafe,” you say, slightly out of breath with the effort it takes to catch up to him. 

“Yeah, well, I’m in a bit of a hurry.” He casts a look over his shoulder, eyebrows raised seriously. You roll your eyes. 

His bedroom door pushes open and you stumble back, hand tight on his bicep as he walks you further. His hand circles your waist as he ducks to kiss you again, mouth hot and commanding over yours. 

He tastes exactly how you imagined. 

His room is bright with sunlight and slightly messy when you glance behind him, but you’re pretty fucking sure you won’t be focused on how his room is decorated when he keeps grabbing at you like this.

The back of your knees hit the bedspread and you fall into a sitting position, posture curved up into his as he leans and holds you by the side of the neck. You make a pleased noise into his mouth and tug at his shirt, suddenly irritated that he is wearing so many clothes. You snake a hand up his shirt and claw at his skin with your sharp nails. 

“Save that for my back,” he breathes, and your fingers fumble to unbutton his shirt as you finally pull it down and off his body. You rejoice at his newfound lack of clothing and smooth a hand over his chest, eyes trained on his toned and tan stomach. 

He’s huge like this, up close, and the warmth radiating from his skin makes your heart jump into your throat. Your fingers splay across the middle of his abdomen, just appreciating the way he breathes under your touch, and you lean back up for his mouth. 

He threads his fingers in your hair and pulls your face so hard to his own that your neck smarts. Between your legs throbs. You protest, grabbing at his wrist, but settle when he shuffles closer to the bed and tilts you back into the sheets.

“Spread your legs for me,” he murmurs. Your back meets silk, and he lifts your open legs up and around his hips as he settles between your thighs comfortably. Right where he should be. 

The feeling of his heavy weight where you’ve been needing it makes your back arch. He breaks away from you and slides a hand down your chest, laying the route that his mouth will take. 

“You smell like cherries,” he says as he presses his mouth to your collarbone and sucks. 

“I know.” You shudder through a laugh and bring your hand up to the back of his head as encouragement. “Spilled Grenadine.”

He hums noncommittally and shoves the hem of your dress up past your hips and to your midriff in one fluid motion. You wriggle for a second, so exposed so fast, but sigh contentedly when his lips meet your stomach. His mouth is so unexplainably hot, and as his tongue meets you your whole body erupts in goosebumps. It sends a shiver down your spine. It’s even better than you imagined. 

“Knew you’d taste so good,” Rafe practically moans, eyes darting to yours, and his fingertips curl around the waistband of your underwear as you watch. Your cheeks flush at his word. You’re honored to be the recipient of words like his— it’s not often Rafe finds himself giving someone a compliment. He lays a final kiss on your stomach and surges back up towards your chest. He mutters gibberish to himself, probably something like “I hate this fucking dress” and yanks your dress up past your tits. 

His fingers find your left nipple and squeeze as his tongue finds the other. You arch again, unused to the sensation, and let loose a groan. His fingers are so soft and light, but his teeth nip. 

You make a noise of surprise, eyebrows furrowing, and tug at the short, blunt locks of his hair. 

“Impatient,” he reprimands, tongue rolling as he glances up at your pink face. You’re strung so tight you might snap. “Needy.” He releases your nipple with a pop. Your lips are so pink and shiny, he just has to kiss you again. You whine into his mouth when he comes back, fingernails scratching at his scalp, and your legs wind around his waist. 

But he lets go of your hip with his left hand and creeps closer to the crotch of your underwear, fingertips dancing. Your grip on his hair tightens. Between your legs pulses with heat and need, hot on his clothed crotch, and he knows he could calculate your BPM just by laying with you like this. 

“Rafe,” you breathe, staring up at him as your chest heaves. 

“Relax,” he shushes, ducking down to press a kiss to your neck, and you gradually relax the muscles that lock your legs to his abdomen. “There you go.” You think you hear a “good girl” fall from his soft lips but it’s in that moment that he pushes past the cotton and digs his hand into your underwear. 

You immediately spur into motion, back arching and mouth dropping into an ‘O’, and he just bites his lip and watches. You’re so responsive, and it makes his dick fucking ache. 

“Thought about this? Hm?” He pants, releasing his bottom lip from between his teeth, and grins. “So wet, this pussy’s been begging for me for weeks.”

You struggle to nod, movement interrupted by the slew of noises and ramblings of “please” and “yes” and “Rafe” falling from your lips. His middle and ring fingers push past the slick resistance your pussy gives him, and you go silent and slack-jawed as he pushes all the way to the hilt.  

And he’s got big fingers. You wonder if they’re the same size as his dick. If so, you might be in trouble.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you nearly cry, head falling back into the sheets, and you’re slammed back into reality and consciousness of your surroundings. The coolness of the AC makes your nipples peak again, and the sweat on your lower back cools almost as soon as it’s created. But Rafe makes you hot. Your chest and cheeks are flushed a bright pink, and your lips are swollen into a bigger size and slick with his saliva and your own. We don’t even have to discuss how flushed the other parts of your body are—he already knows. 

His fingers curl slightly up and to the right, and your abdomen jerks at the unfamiliar feeling. You curl up slightly, eyebrows furrowed, and try to catch a glimpse of his large hand in your underwear. God, you wish you could take a picture. You lock gazes with him momentarily but fall back down at the look in his face. It’s nearly animalistic. 

“Rafe, please,” you beg, grabbing onto his wrist with both hands. You meet his eyes. “I want you to fuck me. Please.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling his fingers out, and clambers off of you for a second. You sit up, quickly ridding yourself of the dress bunched up to your shoulders, and watch as he rips his shorts off and nears the bed. You don’t even have enough time to gape at the size of him before he’s grabbing your bicep and jerking you onto your stomach. 

You have half a mind to protest his man-handling of you but stay silent as you look up at the angle he positions you. 

There’s a full length mirror opposite this side of his bed, and you just stare at the pair of you as you catch your breath. 

“Like it, huh?” He asks quietly, dipping down and pressing a kiss to your hair. His hand finds your neck and he moves you to face the mirror head on, watching your face closely. You really like the feeling of his fingers around your throat. He can tell, now; your shoulders relax and your lips move into the shape of a smile when he squeezes. 

“You always keep this here?” You ask, head falling onto your folded arms when he releases you to just admire your body. His fingers trace your spine and the curve of your ass, never losing focus. 

“I moved it this morning,” he murmurs, gaze never straying from you. 

“Oh, so you knew you’d be fucking me tonight.” Your face splits into an easy grin, head tilting mischievously. His eyes find yours in the mirror, and he bends again to press his mouth to your lower back. 

“Always teasing me.” His voice is muffled by your smooth skin. He can’t get enough. “Knew it’d happen sometime soon. You can’t stay away forever, you know.” He straightens up but doesn’t find your eyes in the mirror. His large, warm hand maneuvers your hips into a tilted position, and you move up onto your feet. He has you flat on your stomach on the bed, but your ass and legs hang off and the soles of your feet just barely press flat into the floor. “Knew this pussy would get me at some point.” He smacks at an asscheek lightning fast; and your whole body jiggles with the force of his hand. You squeak involuntarily.

A large hand grabs at your shoulder as the other one jerks himself steadily. Once, twice, three times, and then he’s spreading you open and pushing into you. 

Your spine stretches and relaxes when he gets halfway in, and your thighs start to shake when you’re filled all the way to the hilt. 

“Shit, Rafe, you’re fucking big,” you complain, but the tail end of your protest bleeds into a desperate whine. Your fingers grip the sheets tightly, eyes squeezed shut, and your head falls onto your folded arms. “Please,” you say, reaching back to frantically find his hips. “Go slow.”

“Stretching you out, hm,” Rafe comments, breathing hard already, and relieves the pressure by sliding almost all the way out. His tip almost breaches the seam of your slit but he pushes back in, pulling your asscheek away with a thumb to watch. “Fucking sexy.”

You squeeze around him like a vice, but the intrusion is welcome. You will yourself to relax and accept his huge fucking dick, and the thought of yourself getting fucked by him sends a gush of slick between you two. 

“There you go,” Rafe sighs, and pulls out only to fuck back in to you quickly. You cry out, fingers squeezing extra tight on the sheets, but you will yourself to look up.

His chest is flushed in the mirror as his chain swings in the open air, and the pure concentration and pleasure on his face prompts a pleased noise from your throat. You tentatively jerk back into him and his head whips up in the mirror, blue eyes meeting your own. 

“Oh, yeah?” He mutters, teeth catching his lip, and his hips snap into yours. Your mouth drops open only momentarily before you close it and tilt your head to the size coyly, biting your own lip and pushing back into his hips. He watches you carefully in the mirror with squinted eyes, half-impressed and half-challenging. “You think you can take it?” His fingers squeeze at your shoulder tight. 

You just silently nod. Cocky. 

His emotionless gaze locks with yours and his blood pumps hot in his veins. He’s going to make you eat your words. 

His hips surge forward in a suddenly-steady rhythm, skin slapping skin ringing out in the room. You just stare at him, defiant, and push back with every thrust he gives.

Rafe grunts and lets go of your shoulder, replacing his touch with an arm slung around your neck and the other hand between your legs. His warm fingers nudge your clit, finding it immediately, and his hips snap punishingly quickly into yours. 

It’s brutal, having him like this. You hope you bruise. But you challenged him, and somebody has to lose. Except it’s not really a loss when Rafe fucking Cameron is genuinely fucking you into next week. 

“Shit,” you exhale, choking on the inhale that accompanies it, and you squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers rub you in circles. “Fuck, Rafe, that’s so good.” Something hot coils tight in your stomach and your thighs suddenly warm almost in preparation for the wave of sensation. 

“Yeah?” He pants, hot in your ear. “You like that?” His chest sticks to your sweaty back, gluing you together as his strong hips and legs pound you into the mattress. You stay strong, along for the ride, and provide all the verbal encouragement he needs. Your stomach feels hotter and hotter and your throat runs dry. 

“I love it,” you whine, head tilting up as if you’re praying he won’t stop. “Fuck me like this forever.”

“Mhm,” is all he says, too lost in the squeeze of your pussy around him and the warmth your body grants him. You pulse even more, so close. 

You gather some strength and struggle to push up into an elbow, head tilting further and further until you can feel his forehead brush the crown of your head. Your muscles strain. 

“Just like that. Just like—God, shit, right there.”

You squeak when the hot coil in your abdomen snaps and you fall twitchingly onto your stomach. His fingers rub quickly at your clit and you feel suddenly a hundred pounds lighter, eyes rolling back into your head. It’s so fucking good you wonder how you’ll ever masturbate happily again. Your fingers don’t compare in the slightest to this fucking dick. Your chest heaves with the effort it takes to fill your lungs with clean air, and your legs start to shake miserably underneath him. Your thighs feel like jelly and you barely did anything. 

“Please, Rafe,” you beg, turning your head to the side to look innocently up at him. “Give it to me.”

“Yeah?” He pants and leans down to kiss you messily. You groan into his mouth and push back once more into his hips. Your pussy is still buzzing with feeling, and it fades slowly into a pleasant ache the more he fucks into you. “You want it on your back or in your mouth?”

You blink wildly and push onto your palms, signaling that you want to turn over. He pulls out but jerks himself steadily until you scramble onto your knees in front of him, face level with his pelvis and tongue out. You look up at him with the most earnest and well-meaning eyes, and he just has to close his eyes when the tip of his dick finally meets your tongue and he fills your mouth. His chest loosens with the most pathetic noise he’s ever made, a mix between a raw groan and a whimper. Your soft mouth accepts him and cleans his dick, humming contentedly, and when he catches his breath and manages to open his eyes you’re staring up at him, an immensely pleased look on your face. 

You crawl closer and lift onto your knees, arms coming around his neck and pulling him to you. You press a kiss to his mouth. He can almost taste himself on your tongue, and he smoothes a hand down your side to grab onto your asscheek as you just kiss him. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling away slightly to give your face a once-over. “You haven’t even showered yet.”

“And whose fault is that?” You sigh, exasperated. “Someone couldn’t make it up the stairs without shoving his hands up my dress—we barely even made it to the bed.” You smooth a hand down the back side of his head, liking the way his hair feels. 

Rafe just purses his lips. 

“Sounds like a really cool guy to me.”

“Mhm,” you say, rolling your eyes, and sit back on your heels. 

This room is a mess.

The corner of the well-made bed’s sheets and bedspread is yanked from the far corner and lies bunched up in the middle, dark with sweat. It smells like sex in here, the ceiling fan doing nothing to mitigate it, and your work dress is hung haphazardly on the closet door handle. With a dark Grenadine stain down the middle. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Rafe says, interrupting your inner monologue. His warm hand comes to rest on your thigh. 

“What?” You ask, eyebrows drawn. 

“Don’t even think about putting on clothes.”

You scoff.

“Like those would do me any good right now.” You wind your arms around his neck and smirk up at him. “I still haven’t even shown you what’s in my bag.”

His smile grows. 

“What’s in your bag, baby?”

[justadeadreaper]

Hey, this is for @frogchiro and her COD Gods AU. I hope she is comfortable with this, and I'm sorry if she isn't and will remove it if she asks me. But, let me just say thank you for blessing us with this idea and I am so happy that you are back as you are one of my favourite Tumblr accounts and your ideas are always amazing.

This will be very long and could be confusing so please hear me out as this is 4771 words of explanation.

My idea for God König could be him being a mysterious God that not many people know about entirely but they'll know his cults. He has many, many cults (like the cults of Dionysus or Pan) worshipping him, but all for different things due to how he randomly appeared one day and had all these cults popping up like it was planned, but all these cults fight each other over what he's the God of as they can't seem to agree but to try and beat each other they try to spread their worship to more people, not knowing that it makes König more powerful. I can also break down each aspect, why he has them, how powerful each aspect is due to the size of the cult, and what parts of the world would worship which aspect.

To make this make sense I have made a hypothetical world which I hope @frogchiro is okay with. So for this hypothetical world which I'm basing on other fantasy worlds and our Earth, we can say that most of the mountain ranges would be a majority in the North, going through the North-East and a lot of the East. Now forests would go across the whole world but would be more focused in the North all across to the West, although the North would be thicker deciduous or timber forests compared to the West where it would be mostly oak or birch forests, but the South-West would have some tropical rainforests while the East has a mixture of tropical forests and normal forests. The East going into the West, which would be the middle, would be mostly desert area, which has some oases here and there. Most of the South is a coastal region with the upper parts being sand deserts while on the South-West and East-West would be tropical rainforests with the furthest parts of the South being pure beaches that are mainly used for fishing villages. Of course, there are offshore islands that come off the mainland, with the South and East having the most islands.

  Wildlife/Nature/Earth- I see König being worshipped as the God of Wildlife/Nature/Earth due to how we see in his Ghillie Monster and Desidia skins we see that he is tanned and he gives the vibes of an outdoorsman who loves nature and wildlife but also feral animal vibes especially when on field, plus the gun we see with his The Wolf skin (look on the wiki) reminds me of the hunting rifles my great-great uncle owns and he is a giant outdoorsman. This aspect is mainly worshipped in the North and West because those are the regions where it is mostly land thick with nature and forests. The powers König gets from this are the ability to talk to animals and have some control over them but not complete control, he can also morph forests to make them thicker or more confusing, he can also help plants grow but he doesn’t have to much control over it, and he can mimic animal calls but also shift into the animal if he has a part of that animal and he can grant a safe passage through forests or safety from predators to his followers for this aspect.

  Mountains/Caves- I see König being worshipped as the God of Mountains/Caves due to how he is a mountain of a man, so it would make sense for him to be associated with them and I thought to add in caves due to caves being closely linked with nature and caves but also due to how caves are natural shelters and it made sense in my mind that people would worship and thank him for these shelters within nature. This aspect is mainly worshipped in the North and North-East because those are the regions where it is mostly mountain ranges and mountains tend to have tunnel systems. The powers König gets from this are being able to be so tall and use mountains as his territory and he can grant shelter and to grant big, strong children to his followers for this aspect.

  Shadows- I see König being worshipped as the God of Shadows due to how it was one of the easiest for him to steal first and I always find it funny when someone so big is so quiet and sneaky that they blend into the shadows. This aspect is mainly worshipped by assassins so it can be anywhere but normally there is a designated spot in a city where the assassins can pray to him. The powers König gets from this are being able to travel through the shadows and sneak around and he can grant similar abilities to his followers for this aspect.

  Death- I see König being worshipped as the God of Death due to how he probably has the highest kill count and if I saw him on the field I would think that it was Death coming me himself and because it fits into the backstory I have for him. This aspect is mainly worshipped by a select few cults, which would mostly be his most original followers. The powers König gets from this are to be able to see when someone is going to die, to easily kill anyone and to have control over the dead, and he can’t “grant” anything to his followers for this aspect unless they want him to kill someone after they’ve given him a big enough sacrifice.

  Oceans- I see König being worshipped as the God of Oceans due to how there’s the whole Eldritch König thing in the fandom which was made worse by his Deep Lord skin and paired with his ability to change into animals from being the God of Wilderness he could have transformed into a Kraken once so people started worshipping this Kraken form so it did not hurt them when they are fishing and allows the to fish in its territory. This aspect is mainly worshipped in the South because it is mostly fishing villages on the coast. The powers König gets from this are the ability to control the ocean and sea storms and he can’t “grant” to his followers for this aspect as he isn’t really aware of this aspect yet.

  Fertility- This is inspired by @stariepie 's idea for God König, and I hope she is okay with this, and if not I don't mind removing it as I don't know if she doesn’t mind me expanding on the idea. I see König being worshipped as the God of Fertility due to how much of a fine specimen of a man he is, like who wouldn’t and I see him as a family man, so it just works. This aspect is worshipped anywhere because people want to have kids. The powers König gets from this is boosted fertility and being good at you know what and he can grant a boost of fertility to his followers for this aspect.

  Physique- This is inspired by @stariepie 's idea for God König, and I hope she is okay with this, and if not I don't mind removing it as I don't know if she doesn’t mind me expanding on the idea. I see König being worshipped as the God of Physique due to him in my eyes being one of the perfect specimens of a man based on my type, he could easily protect his family and he could give the best of cuddles and he is carrying a whole battle axe down there. This aspect is mainly worshipped in the North because his physique would be most suited for the North region and the men who survive the most there would be like him as you need to be strong and warm to live there. The power König gets from this is his amazing physique and he can grant advantages to get stronger and more muscular to his followers for this aspect.

  Secrets/Mysteries- I see König being worshipped as the God of Secrets/Mysteries due to how mysterious he would be to most humans and because canonically we know virtually nothing about actual König but also due to how I think König tries to hide his past and plans to make it easier for him to achieve his goal. This aspect is mainly worshipped by people who worship König as to not piss him off but not because they actually care about him.   Music/Poetry/Literature- I see König being worshipped as the God of Music/Poetry/Literature due to how I envision each God having a wholesome part of their aspects which is worshipped and I envision these for him as I think it fits him as I get the vibe he’d probably be a poetry snob and enjoy learning to play and actually playing instruments even if most are too small for him, plus it’s a nod to all the AI covers people make of him singing. This aspect is mainly worshipped by artists because it first came about due to artists romanticising the aspects of König, and he was seen as a martyr for the outcasts of society, which artists tend to be, so he became their God in return. The powers König gets from this is the ability to be able to play most instruments and have a beautiful singing voice, and he can grant the ability to have a breakthrough song or poem to his followers for this aspect.

  Madness- I see König being worshipped as the God of Madness due to his social anxiety and the paranoia it causes as I have social anxiety myself which causes me to have paranoia, and I thought it would be cool nod to his social anxiety and how he is feared on the field even by the people he is rescuing. This aspect is mainly worshipped by a select few cults, which would mostly be his most original followers. The powers König gets from this aspect is to cause madness and panic, which is generally in the form of paranoia or anxiety through his screams or he can cause people to become paranoid to the point of changing their memories to something that involves him, and he can grant the ability to cause madness in the enemies of his followers for this aspect.

  Royalty- I see König being worshipped as the God of Royalty due to how in German ‘König’ means King, so I thought it was fitting, and royals would see him as powerful and would want him on their side so they could continue ruling. This aspect is mainly worshipped by royalty all over the world. The powers König gets from this are nothing but just being known as the favourite God of certain royal families and he is seen to grant strong heirs to his royal followers for this aspect.

  Lost/Forgotten/Outcasts- I see König being worshipped as the God of the Lost/Forgotten/Outcasts due to the backstory I made for him and with his backstory of being bullied outside the AU as I can see how he’d relate to people who are outcasted from society or forgotten about especially for physical differences. This aspect is mainly worshipped by people who are outcasts. König doesn’t exactly have any powers for this aspect, but he has an elite form of guards who are outcasts that he picked out himself as he saw something in them that no one else could, and he uses these guards to protect certain areas that are extremely sacred to him. I could honestly spend hours explaining each aspect and the backstory of how he got it and how it would be worshipped and explain the influences more clearly, but that is the basics for each one, and if I get permission I may go into them more and explain them more.

Strength of the aspects from strongest to weakest: -Madness -Lost/Forgotten/Outcasts -Shadows -Death -Mountains/Caves -Wildlife/Nature/Earth -Secrets/Mysteries -Physique -Royalty -Oceans -Music/Poetry/Literature

My inspiration for God König was actually Persephone due to her history as it's really interesting, and the same for Pan as his history is really interesting as well. I ask you to please watch Overly Sarcastic Productions' videos on the two Gods (their video about Persephone and Hermes as it depicts the history of the two) since if you do, my ideas will make a lot more sense, but I will do a summary.   Persephone and Demeter predated the Greek Pantheon due to their mysterious cult and were already associated with Death due to being linked to Poseidon before the Pantheon we know, as he was originally the God of the Underworld, which linked to the Earth and the God of the Oceans as that was seen more important at that time. Persephone had many titles and many things associated with her since people didn't directly talk about her due to being genuinely terrified of her as she was powerful and she was a Dread Goddess linked to Death.    Pan is equally as mysterious as Persephone as he is described as a rustic, ancient God of the wilderness and was primarily worshipped exclusively in Arcadia like Persephone. Barely anything is known about him, but we know he's the reason we panic due to the noises he would make.

I also have a backstory for König, which isn't totally figured out yet, but here is what I have so far. So König started off as a God of Madness and Death. He wasn't well known or worshipped at all as being a God of Madness and Death; no one wanted to worship him as those things are associated with very negative things, which caused König to be extremely jealous of the Gods that were being worshipped, which affected his insecurity. So, as the God of Death, he started going and killing other Gods and taking their place; it's why he suddenly appeared as he previously had no worshippers, and he took over the place of one God. The first aspect was the aspect of being the God of Shadows from Graves, and this started by having a cult in a ring of assassins, who needed the shadows to do their job, as he used his powers as the God of Madness to change the minds of that cult to believe he was the original God of Shadows the entire time. But, our dear König got greedy and cocky with his new sense of power and wanted more, so he sent out his assassins when on their killing missions to spread the word of him. Now each assassin was given a different aspect to start cults on depending on the region he was in. These original members are his original court and infested many small cults and would build them up until König was worshipped for that aspect more than the original God, which boosted his power but weakened the powers of those Gods, giving him the chance to go in and kill them. And König isn't going to stop until he gets someone to pacify him or until he's the God of everything, as he wants all the power and he's paranoid about being forgotten and being reduced to a powerless God again.

I imagine König to look very cryptid-like to fit his theme of being inspired by a Dread God and to fit how mysterious and all-encompassing he is. For his body, I say that he is tanned, as I mentioned earlier, as we see that he is somewhat tanned in Desidia and Ghillie Monster skins, and I see him as an outdoorsman, but he would be the tallest God and be a mountain of a man in his height but also in his build, as I imagine him to be pure muscle with a layer of fat on top so think of something similar to a dad bod but muscular which makes him all the more warm and cuddly. Now I see him as someone who is a bit hairy, and for his hair colour, I’m basing on my own family where we are dark strawberry blonde, but at different angles it looks like different colours, so from the back he could look ginger or the front he looks blonde since I can’t pick one colour for him and I thought it would look so pretty on him. I think his head hair, it’s long and puffy to the point that when he takes his mask off, just a bush of hair falls out and it’s an absolute wild mess. His body is riddled with scars, but some noticeable ones would be his cleft lip scar, a clipping of his right ear which is missing, one that runs down the whole of his spine, multiple stab wounds going from the upper area of the left of his chest to the lower of the right of his chest, a burn scar on the top of the right side of his forehead and the bottom left side of his face, and multiple scars on his hands from when the knife in his hand would slip out or from when he was stopping attacks. I feel like his tattoos would either be runes or statement pieces of animals, and he would have piercings in his ears which use bones of bandits he has killed. For his clothing, I imagine him using a mask which is a deer skull with a veil coming out of the bottom of it to cover his face, and he mostly wears furs from a mixture of furs from elk, bears, and wolves -mostly so he can transform into them to scare off hunters from his temple- which he uses as a cloak and to cover his lower half but I would imagine him not covering his chest as a cocky show of strength and to show off his body in general as he is proud of it. For decoration, I see him having chains/necklaces that have small trinkets on them as references to what aspects he has (e.g. for Ocean he has a belt-like chain of shark teeth, but for Wilderness he has vines wrapping around his body, but for Death he uses bones as decorations).

I'd say his sacred animal would either be an eagle due to it being the national animal of Austria and Germany as an eagle represents boldness, power, and victory, which fit König well, or it could be a wolf due to The Wolf skin König has, but also due to how I headcanon him as part Serbian due to @would_tbh on X/Twitter and for the family history I headcanon him to have and due to how wolves are Serbian’s national animal and it fits him well as wolves are described as lone creatures which fits his social anxiety but also how they’re pack animals which fits how König has his own team he has to take care of as a Colonel and wolves are supposed to represent loyalty, strong family ties, good communication, education, understanding, and intelligence which you’d need to be a Colonel and I see him being a big family man. Although I have two more unique choices of what his sacred animal could be. The first is a bear, as in Germanic regions, it was used to represent a warrior, which fits our big guy well and bears are big just like him, and bears can be deadly or cuddly like him as well. While for Indigenous people, a bear can represent strength, family, vitality, courage, health, thoughtfulness and independence, with little need for fellowship with it being self-contained and strong-willed in nature, which are all attributes I would associate with our Colonel. But my second and most unique choice is a winged boar. This is due to how wild boars are surprisingly shy animals that generally try to avoid humans, which fits how the fandom sees König as shy even though he’d probably just want to avoid other people; however, wild boars are also formidable assholes -I don’t get recommended being chased by one- when cornered or angry or threatened so it has come to represent courage and ferocity. The reason why I say a winged boar though is due to Khrysaor, as it was supposed a winged boar that was born when Medusa’s head was cut off. I thought this could be a nod to the eagle, but also a nod to how Medusa’s eyes are deadly as they can turn anyone to stone and the only part of König that isn’t covered is his eyes, and if he were to look at you, with his size and demeanour, you’d probably freeze on the spot like you were a stone statue.

König's relationship with the other gods is messy, and when I say messy I mean messy:

  Ghost- Fucking hate each other. Just plain enemies to the point that they have fake versions of each other in their temples that they train with and brutally murder. König hates Ghost as due to Ghost being the God of War, Strength, and Fertility; he is König's biggest enemy due to how much power and influence Ghost has since it's an equal amount to König and Ghost has the strength as the God of War and Strength to be able to attack König and actually be able to beat him in combat. While Ghost hates König as some people have started worshipping König for fertility instead of Ghost, and due to Ghost thinking Madness should be under the aspects that Ghost is the God of as Madness induced by Fear and Panic is what is experienced in War (this is based on the sons of Ares: Deimos and Phobos).

  Soap- Surprisingly, these two actually get along. I imagine Soap is also the God of Art, as in painting and drawing, so the two get along due to their love of the arts. Soap loves making paintings of König's poems, songs, or stories, and in turn, König loves making songs, poems, or stories based on Soap's drawings or paintings. They are also friends as Soap being the God of Spring means that König's nature flourishes more and is reborn after it's destroyed by Makarov in Winter.

  Gaz- This is based on how people replace Gaz with König but these two are hostile to each other. The reason why I say this is because Gaz is the God of the Hunt, König is the God of Wildlife. To hunt in König's forests and kill the animals under his protection, you need his permission and sacrifice some of the hunt to him. Gaz did not do that as he didn't know, and Gaz accidentally killed König's favourite winged boar, which pissed König off greatly, so he went to fight Gaz and so the two have hated each other ever since.

  Krueger- I headcanon Krueger and König to be cousins, so these two do get along but they annoy each other like all cousins do as even not in the Gods AU, I see König as the older cousin who used to be the main problem maker of the family before Krueger -who was an accident- was born; they may not have much of an age difference as I see it as König being five years older, but once König realised that Krueger was as chaotic as him, or even more so, he would get Krueger to do his schemes with him or just encouraging Krueger’s schemes. But back to the AU, originally, Krueger was a more powerful God than König, but as König grew in power, he became more powerful than Krueger, but as they have that cousin love for each other König helped Krueger by giving him an aspect or two that he didn't want. I don't know what Krueger would be the God of, but I know it would link to König somehow.

  Makarov- I headcanon Makarov to be the God of Winter and Plagues. This has caused him and König to be respectful rivals as sadly Makarov's plagues and Winter kill König's animals and nature but he benefits from Makarov's plagues killing people as it means he has more souls due to people dying. Makarov, like König is trying to kill the other Gods to become more powerful, so it has caused a rivalry. Makarov is slightly jealous of König being the God of Death but the two do have some respect for each other because of their similar goals and how their aspects affect each other.

  Valeria- I headcanon that Valeria is the Goddess of Deserts and Poisons/Venoms. She and König both don't like Alejandro since König sees him as a risk due to Alejandro being the God of Rage like @stariepie said, and as we see in the campaign, she hates Alejandro. So due to both having a mutual dislike of him, they made an alliance where Valeria's poisonous and venomous animals are protected in König's forest, and in return, König has oases through Valeria's deserts so his followers can have some water when traveling through to get him more followers.

  Horangi- Everyone headcanons these two as friends, and I do too, so I imagine these two became friends as Horangi is the God of Bad Luck and Gambling; one time challenged König to a game of Matgo where the first to get enough points to say "Go" then "Stop" got to take an aspect from the other God. Horangi, due to being the God of Bad Luck, lost but König liked Horangi's balls to challenge him to such a challenge, so he gave Horangi the aspect of tigers from König's aspect of Wildlife, which made Horangi also the God of Tigers.

  Roach- I headcanon that Roach is also a God of Outcasts, but unlike König who focuses more on people who are outcasted due to their physical appearance, instead Roach focuses more on people who are outcasted due to being different by having a mental disability as I see him as autistic and mute. They are allies since they are the only few people who are accepting of outcasts and they sometimes trade their chosen outcasts with each other as I also see König having autism and sometimes he sees one of Roach’s outcasts that he thinks is a lot like him and the same with Roach as König may have an outcast who’s mute due to a physical disability or scarring.

  Price- Based on @stariepie 's idea of God Price being the God of Knowledge and Wisdom and my idea of him also being the God of Stratedy makes König either fear or be uncomfortable about Price. Unlike with Ghost, who constantly fights or acts snarky with König which created the hatred for each other on top of the other issues, Price doesn’t take notice of König as he just sees König as another God but does judge König’s friendliness with Makarov. But, König fears Price due to that, as König is smart enough to understand that with Price being the literal God of Knowledge it means that Price knows König’s weaknesses and knows ways to defeat him, which does not help König’s anxiety-induced paranoia as he sees Price’s indifference as Price plotting something.   Graves- Our poor Phillip hates König for obvious reasons. I also see Graves as the original God of Shadows because he started the Cult of Shadows, which was a ring of assassins, but König accidentally became it as well as some assassins saw him and thought oh Death God if we worship him he could help us kill more König saw it as a perfect opportunity to steal his first aspect by making them think he was the God of Death and Shadows. This, of course, created hate between him and Phillip as Graves sees him as an undeserving thief who’s overstepping and trying to take over, while König hates Phillip as half of all assassins still worship Graves and König thinks that they should be worshipping him.

One little fun fact: a headcanon I have for God König is he is actually the God that gets sick the most as he is the blood type AB- as seen on The Wolf skin and said on the wiki, and all my relatives that are AB+ or (especially) AB- get sick really easily and seriously so I imagine him to be the worst when he’s sick; he genuinely makes man-flu seem like it’s nothing as he’s overdramatic and tries to push through it even if he is near enough dying.

Sorry about this, but I'm just a giant König fanboy and adore this man and have so many fucking ideas and headcanons for this man which I may post at a later date if anyone is interested because I have so fucking many, and I have made a full backstory and family tree and the same goes for Price, Makarov, and Soap which I can talk about for days. If I have anything more to add to it, I'll probably post it or send it to @frogchiro 's inbox, but if you have questions, you should honestly ask her as it’s her AU unless I get permission from her to answer the ones I receive.

Now, if either person mentioned in this are uncomfortable with this or needs me to remove anything, just please tell me, and I'll remove it when I see it. But I hope they are okay with me expanding it with my own ideas, but if not I do not mind removing it. If there’s anything offensive or any mistakes, please tell me. I also may come back and edit this at a later point if I think I need to. I just saw the posts and got inspired as I adore König, especially God König. Also sorry if the formatting is weird this is my first ever post on Tumblr instead of being a lurker so I may change the format if I'm not happy with it and if I need to add any tags to this I will just tell me if I need to.

-This is Ozzie signing out, and I hope you have a fantastic night.

[hwaightme]

Avaritia

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR CAPTAIN'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

⚫ pairing: ceo/sugar daddy!hongjoong x assistant/afab!reader ⚫ genre: smut... just smut really ⚫ summary: everything has a price, but sugar makes this truth so much sweeter. no matter what he says, hongjoong will buy that new purse for you, will flaunt you in front of his business partners, and will make sure you know you are his. ⚫ wordcount: 8.3k ⚫ warnings/tags: MINORS DNI, tried to edit - lost it - bon appetit, language, teasing, on a flight, a lot of money, wealth, first world, brand name dropping harder than San in the logs, hj is a sweetheart, mc is needy but in denial, full avarice mode lmk if anything else, nsfw tags and playlist rec under the cut ⚫ taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo ⚫ network tags: @k-labels @ateezlovenet @kflixnet ⚫ a/n: Sometimes, I am calm. Other times (read 'all the time) I am getting wrecked by everyone in ATEEZ. Here is what Balmain Joong did to me. Any comments, reblogs much loved; we spiraled into madness (hail sucrose pop, glucose father joong lol)

⚫ nsfw tags: daddy/baby girl dynamic, sugar daddy, reader is a 'doll', soft dom!hj (literally cannot stay mad at mc), overstimulation (seriously what is hj doing to mc...), fingering, mile high club, blowjob, deepthroating, dacryphilia, possessiveness, dirty talk, sex on a desk, unprotected sex (wrap that before you tap that) ⚫ playlist recs: Five Star Hotels by RAYE | Sugar Daddy by Qveen Herby | SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY Remix by Amaarae | Greed by Shreea Kaul | Mile High by Salina Killa | Do I Move You? by Nina Simone | Money Power Glory by Lana Del Rey

Why was it that when real business was being discussed, the location of choice was always the most extravagant, exotic, luxurious oasis? Everything about the resort screamed unaffordable. 'Exclusive' written in blood on the pristine white sands, only to be washed away by azure blue waves to colour sea foam you could swear was whipped up in a divine patisserie. A perverse flavour inaccessible to the majority but driving the decisions that ruled the world. It was challenging to not become partial to the taboo indulgence when it was handed to you on a silver platter together with a tailor-made career. Anyone would need to acclimatise to what most considered a distant fantasy, but a few flights on a private jet later did wonders in curing the delirium of the average and introducing an insatiable materialism.

Thus, you were not particularly bothered when your boss requested you book another retreat to a private resort in the middle of the ocean - considering the business's cash flow and offshore 'pocket money', this was not too different from your routine trip to the cafe down the street to get his 'coffee' - more sugar than caffeine but this was a secret that you were to keep to the grave; it was written in small print on your contract. It was easy to book when you just needed to send out a few messages to staff and drop a name to any external service people at the right time. Their reaction, stuttering and need for clarification never failed to be amusing; even the most outrageous demands gained appeal once the won, euro, dollars, whatever they wanted from the global wallet, began to stack up. Green bills, green trees - in a twisted way, these boys who liked to play the role of the all-seeing and all mighty were farmers too. And fruits of their labour were always the sweetest.

Sure, you worked hard and had your own path that you could have followed. Even had a degree to prove that you had at least an ounce of dedication. But what would it give you, in fact, what did it give you before your renaissance? Crumbs. Sheer crumbs, student debt and a chronic migraine. But as it turned out, a couple hundred k did wonders when it came to personal health and wellbeing. And on top of that, the myriad of other benefits that your current lifestyle had, had the ability to crush any argument and accusation hurled in your direction, of which you had many. You had figured out soon enough that diamonds were your real best friend, while those who you had considered your ride or die evaporated as soon as they saw you wearing designer. And that had been when the best you could ask for was old collections, and widely available products. You were not lonely. You had too many hats to wear, and a very demanding man, by the name of Kim Hongjoong, to entertain. And one who currently had his eyebrows furrowed, a couple of unruly strands of hair perking up out of his otherwise slick business ‘do, glasses barely holding onto the tip of his beautifully sculpted nose, and was leafing through the papers he had asked you to prepare for the duration of the flight.

For the CEO of a global company, and the heir to an even larger network, he sure as hell was incredibly young. You did not envy his turmoil and exposure to stress one bit, almost feeling sorry and in part guilty, since percentages of his spendings were technically lost on you. There had even been instances when you found yourself sat in a dark room, laptop screen aglow and on a blank page, with you wondering how one crafted a resignation paper. But once you and Hongjoong could have even a couple of moments alone, when he would ravish you, make and call you his and reveal to you all the things he had planned that could not be reflected on his calendar, that document would be promptly deleted and recycle bin emptied. Your ‘relationship’ had been this way since the one meeting, in his main office, on a bright and early morning.

He had called you up into his office and simply told you that he had another ‘job opportunity’ for you. At that point you had been desperate, with financial problems endlessly piling up, from debt to your family’s hospital fees to bailing your estranged brother out of prison. And to make things unethical – Hongjoong had known this. He had done his research – more specifically, he had asked some colleagues in his company, ones who you would never suspect, to snoop around and find out more about you. And as it turned out, you were the perfect candidate for ‘being treated right’ by him, while bearing the title and carrying out the formal façade of secretary and personal assistant duties. In his practice, as well as his father’s and partners’, this was probably the most stable relationship they would ever get in life, so might as well be picky.

Initially, you had simply become a receiver of gifts. Pretending like this was Hongjoong’s love language, you were touched and did not think much of it. Maybe through these purchases he was moving money in ways it should not be moved, but you could not care less – not your problem, not your area of expertise, you had the outcome, and the outcome was something like a crocodile leather bag or a dress fresh off the runway. Hongjoong had insisted on picking every single item out for you, letting his controlling executive side win over. He had explained that you had to look like ‘the prettiest doll in the world’ for him, and for that he needed to check for quality. After a couple of months, however, such sugary sweet presents had been reserved for special occasions, and for the rest, money was wired directly to a new, account, a platinum card he had opened for you and given you. To just step into the consultation room with his portfolio manager and private banking consultant had felt like you were cheating existence. You had been a lowly assistant to an assistant before. And now, decked out in Dior, were sat beside one of the most influential men in the modern era of this industry, letting him hand you eye-watering sums as if it was a couple of coins for a pack of gum.

Now, well, now you were conflicted. As months had turned into a year and were now approaching the two-year mark if you could remember correctly, your ‘relationship’ had started to feel more and more like a real one. Hongjoong had caught himself divulging details of experiences that he had never spoken about with anyone before. And nowadays, when you had sex, it felt less like a mindless fuck and more like making love, with the man expressing more than he ever could with every hot touch, press of his lips to yours, even his lustful intensity had gained a new colour. You could feel that he was confused, but would not dare let go of you – you knew that he put your name down on some very important documents, after all. As such, it was a rare but unbelievable pleasure to push Hongjoong’s buttons and get him all riled up for you, just so he could expel that pressure and that tension from a busy work day out on you. You were that caring of a personal assistant. And wanted him to keep on talking. Keep on telling you his deepest darkest secrets. You wanted to be a part of him, the hedonistic side, the one that seized the day and knew how to enjoy the earthly realm without counting and fighting.

For the flight to the resort and extended series of meetings with key business partners, you had chosen to wear an outfit that you knew Hongjoong was unravelled by. It was a black and white Prada poplin mini dress that did wonders to accentuate your curves and edges, and was paired with some classic, black leather, So Kate Louboutin heels and gold accessories to match the dainty little buttons on the dress. Really, this was dress number two since the last one had been quite literally torn off you by none other than your boss, but he did not want to ruin the night and as such, had promised to contact the house of fashion itself to get an exact replica of the limited edition garment. And this man kept his promises. But right now, even though you were sat in the private office in his jet, with the bodyguards safely outside, lounging and doing whatever bodyguards did to occupy themselves, he was not paying attention to you at all. Only winding himself up more with those compiled quarterly reports that you were now regretting having finalised them and bringing them at all. What was the worst that you would have gotten had you not done the task? A spanking? Oh, how scary… you have had it rougher on a casual and uneventful day. Now you needed to get creative to get his attention, and being needy would not do. So very slowly, gazing out of the window at the clouds your were drifting past, you crossed your legs, revealing the legendary red bottoms of the heels you were wearing, and reached for the notebook and pen that were just peeking out of your handbag. Unbeknownst to you, you already had his attention with your abrupt change of pattern. Normally you would be on your phone, or typing away on your laptop, even remaining idle would be more characteristic, so Hongjoong’s interest was piqued by the little planner that contained all your thoughts and actions. He slouched back in his seat, and raised he papers a little higher, so that he could steal glances at you more discreetly.

You were paying no mind to what your boss was up to, preoccupied by the cream pages and the visualisation of the figure in front of you, but in your mind. Sometimes, when work was slow, you had taken to doodling random people around the office, as well as sketching out a variety of landscapes that took your fancy. Though the main subject was always Hongjoong. You had gotten quite good at picturing his facial features and depicting them even in a few lines, catching his micro expressions and shift in body language. There were also a couple of drawings you had done with him as a live model, though he was asleep and in the nude, so no one was ever going to know about that – you had stashed them away in a safe hidden behind the drawers of your desk. It only made sense that he was in most of your drawings: after all, he was the man who had bestowed upon you such unimaginable riches and a quality of life so drastically improved, that you had no choice but to worship him. He had made you who you were now. A shining diamond.

And this shining diamond was a little too bright for him to keep on focusing on the profit and loss analysis. After about ten minutes of frustrating silence, he dropped the papers onto the table in front of him and leaned to put his elbows on its edge. You had still not raised your eyes at him – something that you normally did nearly on instinct since you were so in tune with his gestures, which made Hongjoong inhale aggressively. His previously neutral expression had turned into a scowl as he raised an eyebrow and gave you a onceover. His precious doll was up to something.

“What are you doing?” though the question was simple, his voice was dangerously low. But you could not be threatened by a good time. You kept your eyes trained on the page as your hand moved methodically to hatching the shadows of his, as of not too long ago, brilliant blond locks, ones you adored to run your hands through whenever you had the chance. Which was a rare occurrence outside of the ‘bedroom’, but still.

“Just noting some things down, Mister Kim.” Though he had insisted that you call him Hongjoong when you two were alone, it had been a challenging transition to get used to. But at least it gave you ample opportunity for… discouraging him further. He liked for everything to run like a well-oiled machine, with his eyes reading a business strategy in anything and anyone. You had no doubt that that was how he was scrutinising you now. Equal parts assessing the attitude and doting on you.

He was a sweetheart treating his favourite toy. Talking competitive analysis and takeovers in the morning, and clinking glasses with you at an exclusive Michelin star restaurant in the evening. And to think that you were the only one, aside from his family, who got to see more than one side of him was an intriguing notion. Actually, scratch that. Certain things you were sure to be the only one taking care of. Take his nasty habit of overworking, which you had called out even if it was just you feeling bored: all work and no play made Hongjoong a dull boy, and thus, less likely to compensate for your presently aimless sitting around.

“By colouring the entire page? Not good to lie to me, you know that.” Of course. When it came to matters of business, for example, this man had ears everywhere, had infiltrated every other competitor and had become a spider in the corporate world. He would probably find out someone was cheating on their spouse sooner than the spouse themselves. When it came to you, however, he did not have your intricate neural network mapped out just yet. He could only fluff up his feathers and put on airs.

“It is only ink, Mister Kim. And surely the ink to paper ratio is not more than the balance sheet on page twenty seven.” You purposefully moved away from his interrogation, subliminally reprimanding him from stopping his concentration. The ghost of a smirk was gracing your lips, hidden by hair that had fallen to perfectly frame your delicate facial features. Hongjoong still had not corrected you on using his ‘work title’.

“I should ask you to start drawing the spreadsheets out by hand then.”

“Maybe next time, as a special treat. In the meantime, we have what we have and must settle for it.” A lot more standoffish than usual, you were brushing your boss off as you continued the sketch. He could not exactly reprimand you, however. You were right in the fact that his suggestion was nothing more than white noise.

“Settle for less, Y/N?” the question rang loudly in your ears and translated itself to a reminder to know your place fairly quickly. You could imagine Hongjoong’s raised eyebrow and playful grin. In addition to him hinting at your arrangements, he switched to calling out your first name. Promising.

There was a customary mention of money and class even when it was not the main topic of conversation. Really, it was what had brought you two together, or rather the stark difference between what you and him had, respectively. Hongjoong enjoyed having financial control over you and ended up dangling it above your head in the form of his not so subtle first-world conduct. You preferred to imagine that it was him wrapping you up in the softest, silkiest Chanel ribbon, like the one you had seen in adverts and on the packaging that, alone, could have probably provided you with enough food to last a week in your life before.

It was not that Hongjoong did not try to ‘stay humble’. Based on your observations, out of all his financial peers, company clients and members of the executive board, he was probably the least likely to boast about the figures that his numerous bank accounts contained. It was possible that when the strings of digits began to look more like a phone number, one grew more tranquil. Money spoke louder than words. But you knew how to make Hongjoong get vocal. Or so you thought.

“More is never enough.”

“Having more takes a lot of work and being on your best behaviour, Y/N.” he may not know all of your thoughts and reasoning but knew that you got extra charming when you became needy. Trying so hard to get his attention that you would invest all your efforts into it. It was only fair after how much he had invested in you.

The Tiffany & Co necklace on your neck that he traced with his gaze was nothing more than a collar, a leash tethering you to him. An Elsa Peretti piece, a golden snake which had cost Hongjoong just under thirty million Korean won, was perhaps the best way to symbolise the chokehold you were beginning to have on him. You were there in business, there in pleasure, and he was contemplating preventing you from taking holidays unless they somehow involved him. It would be easy – just block all of your cards and you would come crawling. He was greedy for your reactions. The way your lip would curl when he would put somebody back in their place during a conference or a meeting. How you enjoyed it when he praised you for completing the challenging, soul-draining tasks that never ceased to pile up – he had never failed to continue scrutinising you through the glass walls of his office as you excitedly returned to your desk, a soft smile always on your face. How you were completely at his mercy when he wanted to give you an extra special present. He loved how the jewellery he had gifted you or sponsored for you to buy rocked back and forth as he took his time to take you apart. Piece by piece. His priceless game.

Hongjoong smoothed his lapels and adjusted his cotton jacket that he had bought in the colour warm khaki, tightening the knot of the wrap belt. Smugly, he took note of how your pretty, made up lips parted. What were you imagining he was doing now? He was not going to care, at least not right away. He demonstratively picked up the reports again, flipping through the bounded pages on autopilot as, what he could only decipher to be a disappointed gasp, reached his ears. It was a relief that the paper hid his growing smirk. Mister Kim was work-mode Hongjoong, after all. What did you expect?

Ignored and rejected, so be it. You knew this interaction well enough to be able to count, down to the minute, when Hongjoong would crack, or you would crack and still come sauntering over. He liked to be needed – the main reason why he had agreed to become the heir to the corporation in the first place, more than you liked to be needy. But sometimes, you were a little too impatient for your own liking – probably a side effect of having been transferred to a silver spoon lifestyle after experiencing hardship after hardship. As such, the dynamic between you and Hongjoong was a constant battle. You could almost taste his pride as he inspected the figures you had compiled for him, a lazy hand moving to adjust the collar of his white turtleneck. Through fluttering eyelashes, you feasted on the dangerously handsome man, determining that he really did look astonishingly captivating in Balmain.

It was frustrating, this ongoing game that you two played and would not quit despite the effect that it very obviously had on all parties involved, but much like with the drugs that made the occasional special appearance in the closed VIP-only events, it was too addictive. Even now, you knew that you should not pay attention to Hongjoong, but your eyes were not obeying you in the slightest. Over the time you had come to intimately know this man, if there was one thing you knew for certain, it was that he had an aura. An enigmatic charm, a magnetism that was so subtle to anyone who you now had the ability and first world clarity of deeming 'average' was unlikely to detect. However, before you knew it, upon locking eyes with Hongjoong, listening to his dulcet tone that would turn to orchestrate the music in your mind, you began to fall hard and fast into the abyss that was his power and control, trapped and even if you wanted out, forgetting the words. Once you fell in, the only words that mattered were the ones that he deemed to be so, and they were so heavily contextual and dependent on his mood that, usually, you did not dare oppose it.

It was fascinating to you how time seemed to pass differently when there was a price associated with it. Be it Hongjoong's net worth or what he was wiring into your accounts, it did not matter. What mattered was the bills that bound you together like the lace of your lingerie, one which was growing tighter around your body by the second as you kept on openly devouring Hongjoong with each shameless gaze, the thoughts cropping up because of the ghost of a smirk that he was wearing only fanning the flame. He was illegal. In all senses. No man should have the right to have such an influence over you as he did, and yet here you were. Working the role of his personal toy, so dedicated that you were on the verge of begging for him to play with you. You needed him. As much as you hated to admit it, since you still did want to retain at least a tiny portion of independence, this man had given you more than what you could ever wish for. Riches, connections, diamonds, sex. And you could not get enough, happily driven to madness by the immense pleasure of being a capricious diva with infantile demands for all the world's sweetness. Or, as your brother had put it, perhaps out of a sick gratitude to you for helping him getting at least a part of his life back on track, before you blocked him for good, you were getting off on being a pampered, prissy sugar baby. Though you saw no issue with simply doing what you were good at, and you still completed your regular duties as a personal assistant. It was just that your 'personal' was a little different from the commonly accepted corporate average. And the business that you carried out in the after hours was not just classified – when you had been faced with the decision of whether to agree to enter such a relationship with Hongjoong or not, you had naively placed your life at stake. That was the level at which you had to operate. But the thrill that it gave you, more than justified it.

Your internal clock was ticking away like a time bomb as you grew more and more frustrated, while Hongjoong, in a manner not too far from that of a cat’s, gave a soft yawn and made himself more comfortable in his chair, spreading his legs further apart under his desk and leaning back to continue his reading. Deciding that he had enough of having to repeatedly push his glasses up, he decisively took them off, and slowly folded them together, holding one of the temple tips very lightly with his lips. In a graceful motion, Hongjoong set them down to his right, beside a couple of pens. You recalled speaking with the designer over the phone, ordering for them to be customised and getting shipped over from the US in record time, and while you were not exactly sure as to why they were so important, the key stakeholders in the company had raved about them on multiple occasions, much to your boss’s delight.

You could feel that he was well aware of your present sensations, and purposefully was not acting on them, just to see you squirm. This was only making you more fixated on getting his attention, which you tried to do by letting out another soft sigh, quickly realising that if you were to get anything out of him, you had to be more rash, and act on instinct. In other words, act out of line. Taking the moment he dived back into the report as an opportunity, you rose from the couch, and slipped out of your high heels while keeping your eyes trained on your boss. A barely noticeable twitch of the eyebrow and you were struggling to fight off a smirk, feeling every bit seductive even though it was most probably a vision of your own design. But a little confidence did not hurt.

This time, you did not make a sound as you slowly moved towards Hongjoong’s desk in a straight line, using your strength to keep your adrenaline-ruined breathing as level as physically possible, and your steps measured out as the plane rumbled beneath you. Head and body in the clouds. All because of the heavenly ruin who was paying no mind to how you rested the tips of your fingers on the edge of the desk, before lowering yourself onto your knees and dropping into a languid crawl. As you inched past his lacquered black boots, and soon found yourself right between his legs, you could see Hongjoong stiffen, but resist the urge of responding to your bold movements. This only played to your advantage, as you let your hands rest on his denim-clad thighs before snaking up to tug on his coat’s belt, loosening it until the material gave way and exposed the waistline of his jeans.

Even as you, with practiced, methodical motions, undid his jeans, he did not spare you as much as a pat on the top of your head, like he usually did when you were being his ‘good girl’. The only sign he gave of his awareness of you was the obviously hardening member that your hands purposefully grazed as you attempted to pull the denim a little further down to give you better access. When the jeans, or rather, their wearer, did not budge to allow you to take them off, you growled in annoyance and gave up trying to be gentle, instead wanting nothing more but attention, not from Mister Kim, not from your boss, but from Hongjoong. From Joongie. From your one and only daddy.

Said man was resisting every urge to yank you from under the desk and to punish you for being such a vixen, but it was clear to him that his disregard of your efforts might just be more painful – a realisation that did little to subdue his arousal. It made him acutely aware of your nimble hand finding the cut in his Armani briefs, and pulling out his erection, giving it a few pumps at the base with your fingers. The sudden caress had made him buck his hips forward, encouraging you to continue admiring his length and running your fingers up and down, not a single bit escaping your touch. He gripped the papers in his hands until they began to get crumpled at the edges, and eventually dropped them to lean back and get a view of the scene unfolding at his feet. All just to catch you as you licked your lips, revealing a thick coating of spit, moved towards his dick, and while keeping it steady with one hand, ran your wet tongue from the base to the very tip, parting with a lewd twirl over the head. Hongjoong bit back a hiss as he locked eyes with yours, half-lidded – you knew all his sensitivities, his pressure points and guilty pleasures, and that was infinitely dangerous for a man like him to share, it only made you more attractive. You had memorised him as if he was your assignment. Your most important test and duty. Never leaving your mind and driving you to insanity as you drifted from wave to wave of uncontrollable desire for him, and him alone. You were his. And you looked so pretty, a queen all made up and dressed in gorgeous rare pieces, kneeling before him and taking in his member between your soft lips. Deeper. Deeper, until he could feel your hot inner cheeks, the back of your tongue and how a rumble emanated from you as you hummed in satisfaction, the vibration forcing Hongjoong to tilt his head back and sigh.

You were greedy for Hongjoong, moving yourself at a slow pace to take in as much of him as you could, hands finding themselves clinging onto the legs of his jeans for support, and to allow you to try your best and continue devour him without his guidance. As you moved away for a couple of seconds to catch your breath, a salacious pop announcing the temporary loss of contact, you noticed a string of what you could only guess to be your saliva, mixed with his pre-cum hanging between his member and your progressively more swollen lips. Once again, you took the throbbing member in your hand and were about to resume its worship, when a strong grip of your hair, nails momentarily sinking into your scalp, alerted you and made your gaze shoot upwards. The sight made you cower, though the thrilling trepidation fuelled your yearning for the glowering man.

There was a demonic quality in how he stared down at you, every bit of the expression demeaning you and demanding your ruin. You knew you had overstepped by disobeying him and taking intimate matters into your own hands, but who could blame you when he was so breath-taking when wearing his favourite brand? When you lowered your eyes he tugged on your locks, sneering.

“Baby girl could not even wait until we landed, huh?” his dulcet tone dropped into a rough drawl as he could feel your breaths washing over the tip of his sensitive dick that was begging for you to finish what you had started.

“I couldn’t.” you purred, batting your eyelashes.

“And so, you resort to being naughty? Do you think that is the right thing to do, especially when I say that I am working, hm?” he was hooking the answers out of you, one of his eyebrows twitching in surprise as you did not respond immediately. He tightened his hold and made your head fall further back so that you were completely face to face, his member pressing against your cheek.

“It isn’t, daddy, but I couldn’t help myself. You just looked so pretty that I could not resist.”

“And I think you are being incredibly selfish, Y/N. Spinning these tales just so you can satisfy yourself.”

“No daddy, I want to make you feel good!” you insisted, a whine escaping you as you could feel your core beginning to grow warmer with the progressing conversation. Pressing your thighs tightly together, you relished at the friction, and bit your lower lip.

“Is that so?” he mused out loud, waiting for your to attempt to utter even a single word more.

“Yes Da-mmfph!” taking the chance, he pushed you right in, his member hitting the back of your throat, the impact making tears spring up. As you struggled against him, he held you in place and watched as you tried to adjust to him. Just as unexpectedly, he yanked you back, leaving your lips to kiss his tip, only to drag you down once more and thrust his hips once, twice against you until he could see the wetness in your eyes building until it was about to spill over.

“You said you wanted to make daddy feel good, yes?” he asked, lust clouding his brain as you mumbled utter nonsense, mouth pacified by the hard erection, “then do exactly as I say, baby girl.”

This was exactly what you missed. Hongjoong coaxing every unholy state out of you, sin setting you ablaze as you began to fail in registering the nuances of this demeanour, tears that were on the verge of rolling down your cheeks blurring your vision. This was how you pinched yourself for grounding, to assure that the lifestyle you had, the gifts which you had been bestowed with were all real and all yours. You did not search for forgiveness when the forbidden fruit was so damn sweet. So, you let yourself be used like an expensive escort by him, comforted by the thought that even though he could definitely afford having anyone else, he had selected you. And let you stick by him for almost two years. A true sweetheart who knew how to treat his girl right. You moaned into the pressure as the low grunts you elicited from Hongjoong let to the climbing of heat in your core. With the abuse of your throat becoming a rhythmic orchestration, you grew brave enough to improvise, and hollowed out your cheeks.

"Ah... fuck, baby girl..." the airy proclamation escaped him as your teeth just barely grazed his member, and he could feel his high building at an accelerated pace. He resisted your bobbing to catch a few seconds' break by pressing you to his hips, barely giving you a chance to breathe. But he knew you would take it. You always did.

Hongjoong's ragged breathing was sending you into overdrive, and you shut your eyes to allow yourself to focus on the lewd music. Barely audible over the jet engines, the loss of control was his primary expression of gratitude. The illusion that he was not, in certain senses, under your heel rapidly evaporated when the adrenaline shot him through the heart, and his frontal lobe shut down to give up the reins to carnal pleasure. Once the barriers disappeared, his one desire and need were clear. You. The one thing in his life that he would never be able to truly own, and as you unwounded him, he comprehended with an unprecedented lucidity. That was why, as you sensed his hold on you loosen and his orgasm inching closer than ever, and were about to give him the sweet release, Hongjoong snapped back to consciousness and nearly ripped you away from himself, your head barely missing the drawers under the desk.

With flushed cheeks and an adorable, innocent pout, you looked up at him, dribble accumulated at the corners of your mouth. He fell for this face every time. Your glistening eyes studying him as you appeared disappointed that you could not get daddy to cum, afraid that you made him mad. That you did something wrong. Oh, how far from the truth this was. Even though you had acted selfishly, and approached him on your own accord, nothing about you could be anything less than right. Right just for him. It was as if the heavens themselves had moulded you to fit him like a glove. Body and soul. And he will be a fool if he did not indulge in that every opportunity he had.

Taking both your hands in his, Hongjoong helped you up from under his desk, careful to not damage your dress - not that he cared for the price, but it was not particularly enjoyable contemplating the conversation you might have to have with dry cleaning. Or with the designers. Again. It was troublesome striking deals with strangers to keep their mouths shut. He rolled back on his chair, taking in your trembling form. Holding your legs together you were fighting your ache for stimulation, knowing full well that your panties were already ruined with your slick and were only serving as a fabric made for rubbing your sensitive clit. Every breath, every sigh from Hongjoong as he took off his jacket and carefully hanged it on the back of his chair, then fully undid his jeans and pushed down his underwear, was a reason for you to start begging. Couldn't he see how anxious for touch his little toy was? Evidently not, for Hongjoong took his sweet time with removing your dress, every button like a special prize that he wanted to cherish, while you were growing hazy as he peppered kiss after kiss with every new inch of exposed skin, crouching down to let the sensation build lower, feeding the knot in your stomach. His pecks stopped just about when he reached your navel and with a lazy smile on his face, he stood up to gaze into your soul with an unbelievable intensity. Hands running up your body, Hongjoong slid the magnificent article off you, hastily draping it over one of the chair's arm rests and not once glancing away from his favourite sight, a sultry oasis, within reach, and so beautifully hungry for him. He stopped your arms from resting on his sweater, muttering that you would mar it with your lusty filth, and rushed to take it off and throw it behind him. Then, there was no barrier for him anymore, and in one motion, his pelvis was against yours, member resting against your black lace-clad heat, and hands kneading your ass, moving closer and closer until they began to toy with the g-string the action turning to torture as he purposefully made the material dig into your pussy, enjoying how you threw your head back and bit back a groan.

"Please daddy, I need you..." you whispered as he increased the friction and proceeded to move his dick in and out between your full, closed thighs, teasing your erect nub until you writhed to seek even more proximity. This, however, earned you a sharp smack on your ass, the lack of anticipation making it sting. Hongjoong did not give you time to recover as he let the pins and needles work their magic and elevate your reception of his steady thrusts. You tried to grab onto him, the table, anything, but as soon as your fingers touched Hongjoong's chest, another hit echoed in your ears, eliciting a frustrated moan.

"You want to... make... daddy really happy and cum... right?" He panted, his nails digging into your flesh so violently that you could not help but wonder if Hongjoong was going to draw blood, but that brief musing only elevated your pleasure. “Then, you are going to be my pretty little fuck doll… understood?” there was only one right answer to the question, and you were not about to get on Hongjoong’s bad side by being a brat. You were too fazed to put up a fight, and merely mumbled a soundless:

“Yes… daddy…”

Hongjoong leaned closer to you, until his forehead was almost touching yours, and moved to wipe some of the lipstick and remnants of his precum from your lips with his thumb, while his other hand hooked the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down to reveal your wet core. You wriggled to let them fall and kicked them away with an impatient foot, earning a chuckle.

“So eager, baby girl… I almost want to forgive you for not listening to me. I just said you are to be a doll,” he peered into your eyes, his breath hot on your mouth as he ran his fingers between your folds, covering them in your slick. It was adorable how you tried your best to keep up appearances even now, even when you had signed yourself away to be what effectively was his servant. You trembled as the cool metal of the ring on his index finger hit your clit, and exhaled shallowly as he played with you, “and dolls don’t move, do they? Can you do that?”

As he asked, his fingers curled into your pussy, while a thumb traced rhythmic circles over the nub, the sensation electric, building your high. The lasciviousness flashing in your pupils as your eyes rolled back was a cry to Hongjoong’s darkness. Hands suspended in mid-air, you did not dare act out nor attempt to navigate the intimate act, submitting to your boss, your daddy. Letting him take care of you. As he sped up, watching your face contort as you battled the approaching climax, Hongjoong found you endearing, the corners of his mouth twitching as a soft, radiant smile surfaced. He could never stay cruel with you for too long. He was giving you more than you could ask for, and yet, he still wanted to give you more. Everything would not be enough.

“Oh, my baby girl, are you close?” he inquired, cooing as your breathing quickened in response to his accelerated pumps into your wetness, wild from the addictive sound it produced. “Fine, you can hold onto me, Y/N, daddy will take care of you,” you did not need to be told twice, falling into him as your orgasm was imminent, “doing so well for me, baby girl…” he whispered into your ear, kissing the lobe and pulling you into an embrace as he felt your high wash over you, your sex pulsing around him and muscles contracting uncontrollably. Brushing your hair back, petting it a couple of times before settling on having a hand rest between your shoulder blades, he praised you. But did not stop. Greed went both ways.

Your prior filters completely broken, you moaned and whined as you kept on unravelling, Hongjoong’s fingers abusing your overstimulated cunt. With his toned body, and your ass pressed against the edge of the desk serving as your only support, you draped your arms over his shoulders and wrapped yourself around his neck, rationality leaving with every tremor. As you could feel another scalding fire building in your abdomen, just before the release Hongjoong removed his hand and instead took to gliding his dick against your pussy lips. With the sensation being too much, you yelped and sank into an orgasm, sweet nectar dripping onto, and coating his cock.

“Such a good girl for me, well done… Come on my dick baby girl.”

You were not sure when, due to the fog that enveloped your fucked out mind, but Hongjoong had made you lie on your back on his wooden desk, surrounded by the financial reports he could not be bothered to clear. He wanted you now, and that meant no pauses. Without as much as a warning, the blonde gave you one final teasing flick with his tip before bottoming out, the fullness making you gasp. Your walls were still clenching around him from your climax, which made Hongjoong growl as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, spreading your legs further apart.

“So perfect for me, Y/N… only mine…”

He mercilessly pounded into you, chasing his own high while you were seeing stars. When you were like this, under him, hair cascading onto and off the mahogany, knuckles turning white as your grasped onto the desk as he thrusted, you were the closest thing to heaven that he could believe in. In a world that was drenched in materialistic attraction, sabotage in the name of another stack, and human lives turning into corporate statistics to improve key performance indicators, this was an ethereal madness that unlocked a primal bliss, untainted by present crises. The sweetest distraction, you took him so well that he liked to pretend that you had been made just for this. Just to become his possession. His gorgeous doll.

With you, Hongjoong had begun to see purpose in his riches, being able to play dress up with you, making the office a private cat walk as you strutted in the latest collections and custom made pieces. Gucci, Versace, Prada… it did not matter to him so long as you were wearing it with the intentions of impressing him, seducing him, and only him. He was fully aware that, technically, you could be dating someone else alongside your so-called partnership with Hongjoong. As a sugar baby you could even have another ‘sponsor’ out there somewhere. Another person to make you cum, to provide you with a sensual paradise. But the notion sent him into an inexplicable rage as soon as he entertained it, and as such, he preferred to isolate visions of you from the rest of the world. In turn, this manifested itself into his real life attempts to do the same. Longer hours spent after work, an unspoken rule that the assistant should not leave until the boss does. Michelin star restaurants and exclusive rooftop bars to lure you into being in his company. And of course, sex. Or making love. However, one wished to call it when the lines began to get blurry. But Hongjoong could not care less. You made him comfortable. You were his, you had to be, otherwise what did the two years mean?

Skin against skin, breath joining breath, sight clouding, going dark. Hongjoong rolled his hips, and lowered himself to a stance where he was hovering directly above you, his piercing gaze not once leaving you. Getting drunk off every moan and gasp that he was the cause of, he relished in the feeling of your pussy taking him so well, the orgasm that he had not allowed you to ride out still making your walls clench repeatedly around his dick, pleading for his intimate, salacious demise. His thrusts got deeper as he slowed the pace, progressively losing his senses to the speeding high.

“Mm… baby girl you are… fucking priceless…” he uttered, words broken apart by each time he bottomed out in you, his balls pressing against your wetness as you could only let out a series of mewls in response, thoughts unintelligible as the repeated hits to your g-spot brought you closer and closer to total destruction.

“Daddy… please, I’m-”

“Going to cum?” he finished your sentence as your try at speaking was interrupted by a wave of pleasure, mixing with the tension from before and making the tears spring up once again. You were a wreck, impaled by Hongjoong’s member as he returned to standing up in front of the desk, thrusts rapid, sharp and finally making a droplet roll down from the corner of your eye. You yelped:

“Hongjoong… ah this is…”

“Is it too much baby girl?” he asked, without any intention to stop as he could sense himself faltering at keeping up the act for any longer. His own climax was within reach, and he was not one to deny himself any pleasures.

“No, daddy, feels…. So ah… yes…” you mumbled, at least you thought you did, but could not confirm for certain.

“Pretty girl crying for me…  so cute.” Praises spilled out of him as he groaned into the tightness, and, unsteady, removed himself from your cunt, letting out a low moan as rivulets of cum shoot out from his cock and onto your stomach.

The viscous white fluid decorating you was more than what he could ever hope for. The final marking that you were his to use, you were there to serve him, and he would never get enough. A light shake in his thighs forced him to seek balance in having a hand on either side of you, while his pulsing dick rubbed against your inner thigh.

“So pretty, Y/N. Just for me.” He stated, more to himself, and lowered himself further to give you a soft peck on the lips, which quickly deepened as you responded with an elated sigh. In these moments, you wondered if it was money that you were doing this for.

As he moved away, and with practiced motions began to clean you up with some tissues which you had in your bag, you regained full ability of inhale… count… exhale, and in the clarity, drifted to a post-coital contemplation. Hongjoong knew how to make you do what he wanted you to do. But did he know you? Could he confidently paint the portrait of your desires beyond financial and sexual gain? A man made of sugar, with an alluring physique and a kindness which he showed only to you, but should he be your only one? This thought had been plaguing you ever since last month. An unexpected, shattering appearance of a business card, that was now hidden behind a card you rarely used in your wallet, with gold embossed lettering and an otherwise minimalist design. Tasteful, exclusive, expensive. When you checked the names of those attending the meet on the island, the object had grown considerably heavier, weighing onto your consciousness. Discreetly given to you amidst a kiss of the hand and the reception of a smouldering gaze, it served a similar purpose to a number at an auction. The person whose name the card bore had announced himself as a bidder for your attention and services, a bidder astronomically higher than Kim Hongjoong, at that. It was tempting. Very tempting. And you knew that the conversation would occur at some point during your stay, seeing as even in the business setting, the man would undoubtedly be sat across from you, and would stare you down, right to the avarice festering in your heart wrapped up in designer. But you were caught in a dilemma.

Your eyes travelled back to the graceful form tending to you, forgetting about himself, at least until his baby girl was well cared for. A sweet angel, his face finally rid of tenseness and agitation as his entire focus was on your body, on you. The one who, unknowingly to himself, had shown you unprecedented vulnerability and, endearingly, trusted you much more than he ever should have. A man who walked on people and money, yet wanted a woman who could play with his heart.

It was not that simple anymore, was it? After so many doses, could you give this up? Give up and betray Hongjoong in search for a stronger hit?

What was it that you were truly greedy for?

[lilkumquat27]

Another snippet of my AU ‘While It Sleeps’ Chapter 4: Scotland Forever, a confrontation between Trots and Rennick about the conditions of the Beira. Haven’t published the chap yet, but will sometime today. Can be found on my FFN. Man, do I love writing these two. Frenemies trope all the way!

Trots came down from the Administration steps calling eagerly, “Rennick! Can I have a minute, please?”

Rennick exhaled grievously, “Can I have a minute of fucking peace?”

“Sacrebleu! Here comes Union Man. Have fun, Capitaine.” Josie said cheekily as she started to make her confident jaunt back to Engineering.

Trots caught up in heavy breath, “Aye, sorry, Rennick. This couldnae wait. Can we speak in your office?”

“What’s this about?”

“You’re gonnae wanna talk to me.”

Trots and Rennick reached his office in shared silence before they finally took their seats. Rennick spread out his hands and asked, “Well? What’s this about, Ivan?”

“Look. You and I have history, so it didn’t feel right going forward with this without at least giving you a heads up.”

“I served in the war with many faces. I barely paid mind to yours’. Donny do me a favour, just spit it out.” Rennick said crassly.

“Right, then. I’ve assembled an enquiry of demands that I’ll be taking to Cadal management and yourself, considering the unsafe conditions on the Beira. I’ve received some concerning complaints and it’s upon my discretion that industrial action will be imminent if care is not taken on managements end.”

Rennick glowered, “You’ve got to be pulling my leg with this, Campbell.”

“Come now, Davey. Even my sense of humour ain’t that bad.”

“What’re these complaints? Everyone is always fucking complaining. What else they do?”

“Well, just two days ago Brodie nearly died on the dive because an umbilical came loose.”

“Aye, an octopus pulled it out. Was a doozy.”

“You and I both ken that umbilical could have never been dislodged by the likes of a marine animal. A damn octopus. Those things are made to weather much worse. It was degraded and corroded to shite when I saw it. Was due for replacing months ago. The railings down in the Under Rig are a complete travesty. At anytime they’ll give, and you’ll have a death on your hands.”

Rennick took off his glasses nonchalantly to wipe them clean as he said, “You expect me to just pull these supplies outta me arse? You think I haven’t been on Cadal every chance I get about those fucking walkways?”

“The pipefitters, Alex and Sunil, they have knowledge in those kinds of repairs. Delegate them down there for a week or two to get it done. We already have what we need.”

“They were hired for pipefitting, they’re needed at that, too. If it’s getting repaired, it’s getting done right. Best we can do is a patch, that’s not right enough.”

Trots shook his head in exasperation and continued, “Fine. The lifeboats still haven’t been installed properly. I’ve been on this rig for 2 years, and every time they’re soon to be installed it’s backdropped again!”

“Do you want me to fix the Under Rig trail or lifeboats? You canny have both, Trots.”

“That’s just it!” Trots reanimated in upset, “There’s too many to count! By all accounts, this rig shouldn’t even have personnel on it. Not until the repairs are done away and safety measures concrete. You and Cadal were so hellbent to get this operation off the ground and start drilling, you slapped this rig together with sticks and rocks just to have the face of an offshore oil rig so you could get to what really matters. Oil! Profit. Not the crew. Not the safety requirements needed for an operation with this kind of risk. It’s unacceptable, Davey! It’s immoral and frankly it should be illegal. We’re still scheduled to be out here for another eight months before we move the rig. In that time a death is a very real possibility in these kinds of conditions!”

“So, what’re you proposing? You expecting a miracle?”

“The rig should be shut down for a month or two with no personnel…” Trots started to elucidate as Rennick wheezed in disbelief, “… other than the chippies and engies to fix this rig up right as the rest of us go home. We should continue to be paid for our absence as the state of the rig isn’t our fault, it’s yours and Cadal. Then, and only then can this operation continue.”

“You’ve got to tell me what’s rattling around in that egg-shaped noggin of yours. Seems like you’ve got a fantasy world in there,” belittled Rennick as he slapped his hand to his armchair, “Honestly. You really think it’s that simple, do you?”

Trots bit down his anger at the comment and continued, “The lifeboats. God forbid there’s an accident, such as a fire that canny be contained or a lethal gas leak. If we canny evacuate efficiently enough, it’ll be a massacre. A nightmare!”

“The chopper pad…!”

Rennick was cut off by a stern Trots, “- Is not good enough execution when an evacuation order is on way! To anyone who is not on the Administration port of the rig would need to navigate and risk life to get there! When they could easily use the lifeboats to the centre of the rig and avoid being too late to evacuate. Honestly, Davey. You’re not this daft! I ken you taking the piss, right? I may have not been a face you cared to remember from the war, but I remember you were a Boy Scout for making sure your lads were kept frosty. It’s been decades, sure, but you canny tell me you forgot just… common sense! You ken this a complete joke but you’re thinking about the money. Who’s gonnae get paid when this place becomes the death trap it really is and kills us all!”

[fayes-fics]

Transitions

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Modern AU, friends to lovers, it’s very distracting when a Bridgerton becomes a triathlete…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, exhibitionism, masturbation, oral sex (m to f), smidge of intercrural sex, vaginal sex. Lots of Benedict skin in a tiny towel, yes that needs a warning label.

Word Count: 6.3k (oops)

Authors note: This is a birthday request fill for @chaoticcalzoneranchsports. Request in essence is a Modern AU Benedict entering a triathlon and becoming a total menace to reader’s hormones lol. I hope you enjoy this wonderful human, sorry it’s a little late <3. FYI, this might be the most teasing modern Ben ever invented and all responsibility for this fall squarely on them not me hahah. This could be the first in a TRI-logy of triathlon Ben fics. Oh and there is a recurring theme of 3s (and multiples of) in this fic, TRIathlon etc., cos I think I’m so clever. (I’m not.). Thanks as always to my beta @makaylan :)

“A triathlon?” Your laugh is interrupted by a hiccup, “are you serious?”

“Yes,” he throws his hands up to emphasise his point and knocks over his beer, “…whoops.” The delayed, muted reaction to the spill all over his jeans tells you everything about how inebriated he also is.

“Gonna need better coordination than that, especially on the bike part,” you quip, patting his shoulder, part in sympathy, part to steady yourself before wandering to get a towel from the barman. Luckily this is your local; they’ll take pity on you and your drunken friend.

-30 minutes later-

“Ssss fa charityyy,” he slurs as you wander down the street half an hour later.

“What is?” You’re currently staring at a weird-looking patch on your coat. What is that? Beer? Dammit Ben

“Triathlon,” he says emphatically, looking at you, disbelieving that you aren’t following his apparent internal monologue.

“Lovely,” you answer, distracted.

“Be more supportive,” he whines and grabs your shoulders shaking you gently, “I’ve only got six months to get into shape,” he says, miming pumping some iron.

“Fine. I’ll sponsor you, hmm, three hundred million pounds,” you reply, kicking a stray kebab shop chip into the gutter.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he challenges, “better empty all those offshore accounts.”

“Naaah, I keep that kind of chump change in my knickers drawer,” you counter with a giggle.

“Well, I know where I’m looking next time we need money for pizza,” he cackles triumphantly.

“Keep your hands out of my knickers,” you protest, only realising how it sounds after it’s been spoken.

He raises an eyebrow at that, but in his drunken state, it’s more Donkey from Shrek than James Bond.

You just shrug. What does he want with your knickers anyway? 

-6 weeks later-

“What are you doing?”

“Shopping online,” he says idly, looking up from his phone as you hand him the carton of popcorn and take your seat next to him, “need new clothes.”

“I haven’t seen you in a new item of clothing in more than two years, Ben. Why change the habit of a lifetime?”

“They don’t fit anymore,” he shrugs, “need some new t-shirts.”

You just frown; it doesn’t look like he’s put on weight lately. Difficult to tell in winter, with all the layers. If anything, his jawline is even more defined recently than before, definitely growing into his looks.

“Switch that off,” you grouse, waving at his phone, “the film is starting.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “Luckily, I can have this on my eating regime,” he happily stuffs a large handful into his mouth, shooting you a goofy popcorn-filled grin.

Eating regime?

-3 weeks later-

“What is that noise?” You frown into your phone, putting down your buttering knife. 

“Oh, it’s the music, I guess,” he responds, sounding a little winded.

“Wait… where are you?”

“The gym.”

You snort. “C'mon, seriously, it’s Saturday morning. Don’t lie; you just haven’t made it home yet from a night out, right?” You take a bite of your breakfast.

“No,” he says slowly, as if explaining to a child, “I’m at the gym.”

“Wait… really?” You have to brush away the toast crumbs you spit out onto your pyjamas at that one.

“Yeah,” you can hear the confusion in his voice, “did you forget? Triathlon? You’re sponsoring me the GDP of a small nation, remember?”

“Hah,” you exhale, “really didn’t think that would stick.”

“Well, it is, I mean, I hate it here, but it is,” you can hear his breathing is a little heavy, making your stomach feel funny, being right in your ear like that. “So what did you want?”

“Hmmm,” you respond, distracted by his low voice.

“…You called me?” He prompts.

“Ohhh… was just curious if you want to hang out later. Pizza and a movie?”

“Yes, to a movie. Sadly, no to pizza. Despite the promise of raiding your knickers.” He gusts a laugh.

Your gasp is audible. “What?” 

“You…. You, joked that night? Remember? Keeping your money in your knickers drawer?” He sounds embarrassed.

“Oh yeah, sorry… too early for me,” you attempt to laugh it off. “I’m sorry, but what are you actually doing? Cos, you sound in pain, frankly.”

“Bike. I’m on kilometre 33” he sounds proud; bless him. To be fair, that’s quite an achievement for 9 am.

“Wow,” you look at your cup of tea and plate of toast and feel very lazy, “Well, see you later? 6ish?”

“I’ll be there,” he pants.

You have to hang up. That breathing and his slightly gravelly voice when he kept saying knickers is a bit too much.

-3 weeks later-

You’re out at a Thai restaurant, and he’s eating the spiciest soup ever, based on the sweat beading on his brow, at least.

“Why the hell did you order it at level 3?” you question, “you know that’s crazy hot.”

“Spice is good,” he counters, “revs up the metabolism.” 

“You look like you’re suffering.”

“All for a good cause,” he shrugs, “but might need to take off the woolly jumper.”

You curl some pad Thai noodles onto your fork and idly watch him fight off his thick fuzzy top.

Oh.

Underneath, he’s wearing a white t-shirt. You are taken aback by how filled it looks. And his arms? Why is there so much definition? You find yourself staring without even realising it. He wasn’t kidding about those gym visits—clearly.

A noodle unceremoniously plops back into your plate, splattering tamarind sauce onto your jumper and hand.

“Shit!” you busy yourself attempting to remove the stain with your paper napkin but glance up to see him looking at you with a smirk on his face. “What?” Your voice is a touch defensive.

“Nothing,” he singsongs, “just didn’t think you that type, you know?”

“What type?” You’re not looking at him again, pawing at the sweater, hoping it won’t stain.

“A perv,” he breezes

“Excuse me?!?” Your head shoots up.

“You heard me,” he answers, “you have no leg to stand on. You literally dropped your dinner staring at my body.”

You squirm in discomfort,  “I was simply taken aback, that's all,” again too defensive. “Gym seems to be paying off,” you add, aiming for nonchalant.

“Based on your reaction? Yes, I’d say so,” he chuckles.

“Eat your bloody fire soup, Popeye,” you grouse, knowing your cheeks are blushing; he just laughs louder.

-6 weeks later-

You walk down his street peeling off your jacket; so glad Spring weather is finally here. He said to come over at 7 pm for film time. You’re a little early; the bus was on time for once. It’s only 6:30 pm, but you figure he won’t mind, especially as you’re clutching a bottle of his favourite wine.

His building door is wedged open by someone moving their stuff out, so you just skip in and take the lift to his floor. He won’t mind you just knocking on his front door; you’ve been friends for so long and visit each other so much that you really should just exchange keys.

You knock casually on the door, checking your hair quickly in the gleaming ‘603’ of his door plate.

There’s a longish delay, then a “Who is it?” His voice sounds far from the door.

“Who do you think, Sherlock?” you laugh back.

“You’re early.” He says, a little harried-sounding.

“Let me in,” you grumble.

“Fine, but beware.” That sounds like a strangely ominous warning. 

Then the door sweeps open. And you forget quite how to breathe.

The first thing you notice—acres of toned skin. Dripping wet. You've obviously interrupted his shower. A towel is slung low on his hips, a little trail of glistening hair from his belly button (god, it was made for a tongue) down into the towel. Otherwise not much body hair, just lean muscles everywhere. A quiet ridiculous iliac furrow and flat washboard stomach sweeping up to a surprisingly well-toned chest. Not huge pecs but lean, toned. Broad, muscular shoulders. Exactly how a triathlete would look. As your eyes sweep down again, there’s an outline of something against the towel you definitely shouldn’t be looking at. 

“Why not just take a photo? It will last longer,” he teases quietly, with a raised eyebrow.

“Bloody hell Ben,” is all you can say, finally looking at his face.

“Better come inside. Can’t have you glitching in the corridor.”

He steps aside with a smirk and gestures you in. You walk almost on autopilot, silently handing him the wine as you pass and catching a whiff of delightful woodsy clean shower gel as he closes the door behind you.

“I can’t be drinking at the moment, but thank you,” he says quietly, placing the wine on the hallway table.

“I’m sorry I’m early,” you find your voice, “I should have buzzed, but the door was wedged open downstairs, so I just came up.” You know you are rambling slightly, not quite wanting to look at him again. 

He smirks as you go to sit in his living room still on autopilot, and he follows, leaning in the doorway to his spare room opposite you, a pull-up bar above his head. 

“Please, go finish your shower, get dressed,” you encourage, taking off your shoes as you usually do when you get comfy on his sofa.

“Oh, I’m done,” he assures. “Just didn’t get around to drying yet, but that’s ok. I can air dry, always nice after I get back from the gym,” he says drolly and reaches up to loop an arm around the pull-up bar, the other hip dropping slightly. He’s deliberately showing off now, goading, teasing you. “Sometimes I don’t even bother to get dressed again, just go to bed naked; feels good after a workout.”

Well, that's a thought your traitorous brain didn't need. Your mind is a jumble of inappropriate thoughts of him naked as you watch his torso as he gestures, fascinated by the movements, the play of supple damp skin over lean muscle. Wondering what it would feel like under your fingertips, your lips, or your skin as he presses you into the mattress. The last lingering thoughts seem to coalesce into the strange question of contemplating what he might do if you walked over and ran your tongue over him right now.

“...Y/n?…” he’s looking at you expectantly. 

It’s patently obvious he has asked you a question, and you have utterly zoned out, your focus purely on his body and what you want to do to it, to him.

“Did you hear a word I said?” He asks teasingly.

“Sorry, I…” you feel embarrassed. 

“How long?” 

“How long what?”

“How long since you last had sex?” he smirks.

You inhale sharply. “That’s none of your business.”

“One, you are my friend; you can tell me.” A finger around the pull-up bar extends out as he counts the reasons with his fingers. “Two, you are looking at me like a hungry man looks at a triple-stacked burger.” Another finger. “And three, I can help with that,” he shrugs as the third finger unfurls.

Your eyes fly to his face, lips parting in shock. Did he just… proposition you?

“So I ask again… how long?” His voice is pitched low, the feel of it almost buzzing around your ribcage even at a distance.

“Six months,” you exhale, looking down at the ground, your mind flashing back to your last drunken awful one-night stand.

“My god,” he sounds genuinely shocked.

“I know,” you lament, still staring at the wooden floor, “I swore off one-night stands after one too many disappointments, and I haven’t met anyone since, so…” it’s your turn to shrug as your sentence trails off.

“Stand up.” His voice takes on a tone you’ve never heard before, and you’re on your feet before you quite register what’s happened.

Feeling nervous, you start rambling, “I suppose I should be more active in the dating apps, maybe? But I just find them so artificial, and honestly, I’d prefer a random bar meeting than this weird swipe-right culture. I feel like a dating dinosaur for saying that, but….”

“Y/n,” his timbre is velvety.

“Yes,” your response is soft, almost silent.

“Shut up.”

He prowls over to you with a look in his eye you have never seen before; it’s dangerous. Is this what Ben is like to all the people he sleeps with, you wonder? It’s very different from the friend you know and, yes, love. Platonically. Or at least you think it’s just that. Right now, you are honestly not sure.

He stops in front of you, his eyes glittering. “I’ve thought about you,” his voice is silky, pitched low. “What it might be like to cross that invisible line, to give in to temptation.” 

Your breath is uneven now, your pulse speeding up as your good friend messes with every sense in your body. His smell is intoxicating; you can feel the shower warmth radiating off him. You daren't meet his gaze; he is too close. You keep your eyes cast down slightly, staring at the constellation of tempting freckles smattered across his breastbone. 

“Look at me,” he orders quietly, two fingers curling under your chin and pushing your face up to look at his. Fuck, he is devastatingly handsome, so close-up. All cheekbones and hazy eyes. Rivulets of water from his freshly washed curls running down his neck, pooling above his clavicle and in his suprasternal notch. Your tongue almost feels heavy. Desperate to track the journey of those droplets.

“I can’t even see the colour of your eyes anymore,” he rumbles, “your pupils are blown so wide.” He moves the fingers from your chin, trailing them up to run over your lips. “Your lips look almost wine-stained, so flushed. God y/n, you look devastating when you’re aroused.” 

You are shocked you are still standing. Who does this? Many men would just have stuck their tongue into your mouth by now. Not this tease; he is determined to ruin you. Slowly. He drops the hand from your face, but your knees feel strangely jelly-like as he leans his whole body closer, ghosting a breath over your cheek.

“No perfume today, hmm,” he murmurs, “just you and your tempting smell. You have no idea how good you smell without it, just a touch of body wash and a lot of,” he takes a deep inhale, “...you.” 

How can one syllable be so devastating?

“Ben,” a single word escapes your lips.

“What?” The ‘t’ is a staccato against the shell of your ear.

“What’s happening here?” Your whisper is a little desperate. 

“Whatever you want to happen,” he replies, his voice right against your cheek, “six months is too long for anyone, but especially someone as special as you.” He opines, and a single finger draws a line down the skin of your sternum to the first button of your shirt. “I’m counting to three; then I’m undoing this button,” he murmurs. “You have until then to get away from me, and we can just pretend this never happened.” 

“One….” You inhale and stay very still.

“Two…” The tension is palpable as you pull back slightly and meet his molten gaze.

“Three…” His deft fingers flick open the button as his lips hover over yours but never touch.

This is the Benedict Bridgerton you’ve heard rumours about, the one you’ve listened to women whispering about in the bathroom at parties that you could never quite fathom or reconcile to the goofy friend you’ve always known. It’s like he’s hidden a part of himself from you and only now is revealing it—this devilish, devastating seducer. 

“Ben,” you stutter, feeling the warmth of his fingertips trace gently over your skin to the following button, feeling his breath on your lips. 

“Yes?” you feel the word as much as you hear it.

“Kiss me,” he has you begging.

His lips finally capture yours, but it is still just a tease. Surging forward, then pulling back, goading you with just a glimpse of opened lips, a peek of what his tongue is offering. He wants you to take from him; you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

As his fingers find the next shirt button, you throw your arms around his neck and dive in. Trapping his hand between your bodies. The dewy, dampness of his showered skin seeps into your cotton shirt as you press against him and run your tongue into his mouth, grabbing a fist full of his hair and growling slightly into him.

“Oh, there it is,” he teases into your open mouth, “the wild thing hiding under this witty, intelligent exterior. I just knew it.” 

His touch of arrogance should be off-putting, but he’s being so complimentary with it, it’s just plain hot. You make a desperate noise in the back of your throat and smash his lips back to yours, this time goading him to plunder your mouth. Another button pops undone under his fingers as you surge against him, feeling something hot and insistent pressing through the thin towel and the waistband of your jeans.

He is down to the last button now. He flicks it loose and then tugs the shirt down over your shoulders but doesn’t pull it off completely, just leaves it there, trapping your arms in the sleeves taunt, slightly behind you.

He moves to run his nose over your cheek, “I know all your secrets. I’ve watched you so closely over the years. What makes you bite your lip, squirm in your seat.” His lips tease against your jaw as he keeps talking. “I’ve seen your gaze linger on people making out. You couldn’t look away from that couple fucking in the Barbican stairwell.” His mouth is on your neck now, a hot slide of kisses. “I’ll never forget the look on your face. I could tell how much you craved it. It took all my strength not to throw you against the wall and take you right then. But no, I chose to remember it. So that one day I could tell you what I know for certain. You love to watch and be watched, don’t you?” His voice should be illegal. 

You breathe heavily, slightly ashamed he can read you like a book, as he holds you steady, arms still ensnared. 

“I’ll fuck you against the window,” his tone sinful against your ear, “that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? To have the whole neighbourhood watch you.”

You don’t have to say anything; he knows the answer from your reaction. Your body quivers as he yanks the shirt off, tosses it away, and then takes a step back. The obvious tent under his towel makes you bite your lip hard. He looks like the definition of sin.

“Come with me.” He pulls you by the hands, walking backwards, and you follow, your eyes on him the entire time. Nipples pebbled hard, and underwear flooded. He stops before his floor-to-ceiling window and whirls around, crowding into your back. 

“Take. It. Off.” Each word is a sentence.

“What?” You don’t even hide the panting in your voice.

“Everything,” he exhales, “every last stitch you are wearing. Strip right here.”

Your hands move to your jeans as you shakily exhale and unzip. You are so relieved you wore matching lingerie today. Perhaps subconsciously, you did so on the off chance of this outcome.  Large hands land on your hips and assist the push of denim until it hits the floor, and you flick it away with your foot. You are just in underwear now.

His hands sweep over your torso, the slight callouses he has developed from the bike snagging on your skin as he nuzzles your cheek. His lips find yours in another heady, passionate kiss. As your tongues dance, his hands cup both breasts. He teases your nipples with swipes of his thumb over your bra. 

Longing to feel those fingers on your flesh, you push each bra strap down until they hang loose. 

“Unhook me,” you whisper and a hand trails around and plucks open the clasp effortlessly.  

You peel away the bra and throw it aside, feeling his heated gaze slide down your skin over your shoulder. 

“So perfect,” he whispers; his fingertips are so warm and teasing on your nipples. 

You moan and curve your chest out, chasing his touch, causing your bum to push back against his cock. 

“Look at you,” he growls, “look at yourself in the window.”

You gaze forward, and in the reflection, you see a wanton tableau of your breasts trapped in his large hands, his body pressed against yours from behind. 

“Fuck, Ben,” you whisper and stare, hypnotised as you slowly undulate your hips. Watching your body move sinfully against his as he groans.

“Yesss,” he hisses in encouragement, pushing against you, just his towel and your underwear separating your bodies as you move slowly in unison.

“I believe I told you to take everything off,” he rasps, grabbing your hips and running fingers over your underwear.

“You do it,” you murmur back challengingly. 

“Oh, that's how you want to play, is it?” His voice is low and dangerous. “Fine”. He walks you forward. “Put your hands on the window,” he commands. 

You do so; the cold of the glass contrasts with the heat of his hands on your body. A thrill runs down your spine at the thought of someone in the surrounding windows, maybe a few people, watching this happen.

Ben’s hands hook into the fabric at your hips, and he inches the material lower as he leans over your back. Warm lips press against your upper spine between your shoulder blades, and you groan as he runs his tongue down your back as his hands push the underwear down your legs. He’s crouching behind you now as he kisses the swell of your bottom, his hands throwing aside your underwear. 

“Open your legs wider,” he orders softly, and you stutter a breath, feeling one of his hands sweep up your inside leg and quests against your mound. You gasp his name. He chuckles richly and finds your clit, nudging it lightly with a fingertip, making you cry out and clench down.

“You have no idea how much you’ve driven me crazy over the years, do you?” he groans, his mouth open against your butt cheek, lightly grazing your skin with his teeth, fingers teasing in little circles. “Being my wonderful sweet friend when all I’ve ever felt is guilt about what I truly wanted. To bury myself between your legs,” he inhales lewdly. “Your bewitching smell drives me insane. Jesus Christ, y/n, you have no idea how many times I've taken myself in hand after spending time with you, desperate for you. How long I’ve waited for you to see me the way I see you.”

You crest a moan, unbidden, incapable of words, as he soliloquises his adoration for you in filthy precise detail. You had no idea this is how he feels; the thought he has come multiple times fantasising about you is something you can't comprehend, but you want to hear about it. You want him to tell you in precise detail about every time he has fucked his hand and thought about you.

“Tell me about it,” you blurt out before you can censor it.

“What?” he teases, his fingers circling your clit slowly, his lips kissing across to your other cheek.

“Touching yourself,” you squeak timidly, knowing you are blushing.

He stands up suddenly and spins you around to face him, the glass cool against your shoulder blades as he shoots you a molten look.

“Why don't I show you?” he whispers, and your eyes fall to the towel as it drops away under a flick of his hand.

Oh, Ben.

Nestled in a neat patch of trimmed hair is the nicest cock you've seen in a long time. Not so big as to be scary, but just delicious looking, more than a handful, and you are suddenly so utterly mindless for him to fuck you. Instead, he takes his cock in hand and leans close to you, not touching but millimetres apart. He makes a noise in the back of his throat that makes your breath hitch as his hand begins to move up and down, squeezing his shaft; a little bead appears at the head that your tongue longs to taste.

“Y/n,” he moans, his voice so resonant it vibrates through your very being, settling into a pulse between your legs as you feel a trickle of moisture escape and run down your skin.

“Ben,” you stutter.

“Y/n,” he repeats, moving his hand faster, his gaze piercing yours.

You rub your slick thighs together and bite your lip, hands flexing against the glass, nervous to touch him and break this heady spell.

“Please…” you plead quietly, “please fuck me.”

“God, I love it when you beg,” he groans and releases his cock, grabbing your hands and pulling them above your head, your watch tinking against the glass as his fingers sink between yours and he leans his whole body against you. The head of his cock slides hot against your belly button.

“Please,” you repeat as he thrusts slowly against your body.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, “I want you so mindless for me that you are shaking.”

No one has ever teased you like this. It's maddening. 

“Now, where was I, hmm?” his voice a light teasing thing as he sinks to his knees right in front of you, still holding your hands, placing them on his head before pulling your left leg over his shoulder. “I think I was just about to…” he stops mid-sentence and buries his face between your legs, the stubble on his jaw rasps against your inner thighs as his tongue delves into you, his nose bumping your clit. 

He growls right into your cunt as you cry out, and your hands flex on instinct, pulling on his hair, nails scraping his scalp. 

“Watch me,” he orders, and you make searing eye contact as he moves to suck hard against your clit, tongue rolling in surging waves, making your knees want to buckle. He senses it and grabs your hips, pushing you back against the glass. 

You keep your eyes on him, but your thoughts flit to whether someone is out there amongst all those other windows watching this. Him on his knees, face embedded between your legs, as you lean your back against the glass but thrust your hips forward, gyrating and riding his tongue. Making the neediest sounds, chasing your high with no thought to anything but this and now and oh god, yes. He is relentless, thorough and certainly the most enthusiastic you've had in ages, possibly ever. Talking filth right against your sodden flesh - about how good you taste, how much he has dreamed about this, how he can’t get enough and pleading with you to give him more noises and cries and everything. Lashing you with his tongue. But it’s when he moves a hand, slides two fingers inside you, and instantly finds your weak spot that you scream his name. 

“There it is,” he grunts and pushes you quickly towards the edge; no one has been quite this dedicated to ensuring you come intensely. Your legs start to shake, and he has to bear some of your weight on his shoulder as you lose coordination, the invisible string holding your body tight snapping, your nerve endings on fire, your vision whiting out, yelling and crying and convulsing against him. You breathe in heavy, sharp inhales as he gently kisses your folds and holds you up. The cooling glass is a wonderful balm against your heated flesh.

“Holy fuck Ben,” you exhale shakily as you finally find your voice.

“How do you feel?” he gloats quietly, tenderly placing your foot back on the ground with a quick squeeze of your ankle and a kiss on your knee.

“Shaky and amazing,” you answer honestly, closing your eyes and swallowing hard.

“Good,” is the silky reply as he gets to his feet in one swift motion and leans into you again, his cock searing against the dewy skin of your belly, and he grabs your face. “Now, where would you like me to fuck you? I can do it anywhere you want. You want right here? The table? The couch? The bed?” As he lists each spot, he softly kisses your cheeks, ears, forehead, and even lightly on your eyelids. 

“All of them,” you exhale.

“I’m not sure I have quite that much stamina,” he chuckles “you are so very…” he presses hard against you, his cock trailing moisture onto your skin as you gasp “...intoxicating.”

“I don't mean tonight, Ben,” then you get a sudden swooping feeling in your gut at your assumptions. “Wait, is this just a one-night thing?” your voice wavering, failing at the neutrality you hoped for.

“I just told you I have come fantasising about you for five years, and you think I'm letting you go after one night?” he gusts a laugh, fingers tracing delicately over your lips and cheeks.

“Five years?” you twist your mouth into a little playful pout, your confidence surging at his reply.

“Yes, you little tease,” he smiles, that crooked smile that always gives you butterflies. “Now answer the damn question before I go get a damn condom.”

You make a show of looking over his shoulder as if assessing your options, and he chuckles again, stooping his hips a little and sliding his cock between your thighs instead.

“Ohhhh,” you stutter, eyes fluttering closed and hands flexing against his back.

He thrusts lightly between your thighs, and on instinct, you close your legs a little, giving him more friction, the movement easy from your skin still soaked from the orgasm he gave you.

“You don't need to get a condom Ben,” you say quietly, “I trust you are clean, and I'm protected.”

He stills his movement and cups your face tenderly, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you nod, then smile with a flirtatious edge and move to whisper against his ear, “I want to feel all of you.” He makes a noise that has you buck against him, sliding his cock between your thighs again. The motion glances again at your clit, and you raggedly inhale. Oh god, you could just do this all night.

“C'mon y/n,” he teases, rocking gently, “pick somewhere before I just slide right into you here.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he mirrors the expression.

“Oh, you asked for this,” he gloats and stuns you by picking you up, wrapping your legs over his slim waist and sliding right into you, pulling you down onto his cock in one visceral, swift, plunging motion.

“Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk…..” you cry out, breath stolen, feeling so very invaded in the best possible sense. His cock holding you open, a sold hot weight deep inside. 

Oh, god, yes. This.

He holds still for so long that you pull his face from its spot, buried in your neck and nudge him to meet your gaze.

“Ben, are you ok?”

“More than ok,” his voice is rough. “You feel amazing; I… I need a moment before I can move; it’s been a long time since I was skin on skin, and well, it's you….” he admits, his tone is reverential.

You smile and kiss him on the forehead, tasting the tangy salt of his sweat. 

He pulls back slightly, his lips find yours as he surges back in, and he swallows the noise you make. Slowly he builds a pace, and you close your eyes, tilting your head towards the ceiling, concentrating on the sensation of him dragging against your walls, pushing you open with each move, the stretch so enthralling.

Oh god, we should have been doing THIS for the last five years, you think indulgently to yourself.

“I agree,” he murmurs, his mouth hooked over your chin.

“Shit, I didn't realise I said that out loud,” you admit sheepishly, tipping down to meet his gaze.

He gusts a laugh and spears into you a little rougher than before, your soft cry catching against his stubbly cheek. 

“I think I see someone watching us,” his voice suddenly dangerous and velvet, hot against your ear.

You inhale sharply and clench around him at the illicit, electric thrill that runs through your body.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Tell me about what you see?” your voice is thready, somehow the thrill heightened by knowing you are totally at his mercy, legs around him, back against the glass.

“I think it's a couple,” his voice is gravelly. “At first, it was just a woman I saw a glance of; now there’s a man too.”

You moan and bear down onto him harder the thought you have an audience of this debauched tableau. You move an arm to wrap around his shoulder and pitch forward to bite his neck.

“Fuck y/n,” he exclaims, pulsing deep inside you.

“Tell me more, Ben, please,” you take his earlobe between your teeth, pulling it taut as he thrusts into you.

“Oh god, they are…. they are kissing,” he moans, his breathing becoming a little more ragged.

You clench hard again, and he growls long and low, pulling his face back to rest his forehead against yours.

“We did that,” he sounds feral. “We fuck so good we make others want to do it too.” 

“Yessss,” you writhe on him, “fuck me hard, Ben, make them jealous, make them all watch as you ruin me.”

“Keep talking to me,” he pleads and hitches your legs onto his arms, pressing you higher on the glass, pounding into you now, his pubic bone surging against your clit with every stroke.

“Yes, Ben, make me come again, please; I want them to see me impaled on your cock, screaming your name,” the filth tumbling from your lips unfiltered as he spirals you higher.

“Oh god, yes,” his voice stutters as he thrusts hard. “Please do it; I've come so many times wanting to hear you scream my name, fingernails scratching my back, your cunt convulsing hard around me; god, please come for me again, please.”

His words and pleading and harsh movements is just the cocktail you need to push you over the precipice. Body going completely stiff, legs battling against his hold, so you scramble against the glass, smearing sweat and fluids as you fight the convulsions. Screaming his name, uncaring of his ears, the neighbours, anything but the feel of the snapping, blinding sensation and waves of bliss pulsing out of your core across your whole body. A static hum in the base of your skull at the release of every fibre of your being. You barely register the words and noises he makes as you feel his whole body stiffen, his mouth hooked on your shoulder, curled against you, as he holds you speared deep as you feel him coming powerfully inside you, a blooming warmth coating your insides.

“Fuck,” you pant in unison. Which makes you both giggle, faces pressed together, a light and intangible moment shared, as he lowers you slowly to your feet, his lips finding yours in a chaste kiss.

You keep your arms snaked around his neck and lean your head on his shoulder, listening to his thundering heartbeat, the shaking in your legs subsiding slightly.

“I can’t believe you held me up for that long,” you smile.

“Made every hellish gym visit worth it,” he returns, laughing gently, 

“Oh yes, the triathlon. When is it?” You sway gently in his arms, enjoying the easy intimacy you have.

“In about six more weeks,” he calculates, kissing your temple and slowly turning you both around, so his back is to the glass.

“Can I help with any training? I’m not a bad swimmer, you know,” you offer with a shrug.

His eyes glitter as he leans his forehead against yours, walking you back towards his bedroom. “I have to be in the pool first thing tomorrow; I would be delighted to have you join me.”

“I don't have a swimming costume with me,” you pout.

“I’d be happy for you to skinny dip,” his eyebrow shooting up in a way that makes your stomach somersault.

“I’ll do it if you do it,” you tease.

“Hmm, tempting y/n, but I doubt we would get any actual training done,” he says pointedly.

“Fair,” you concur, squinting comedically, and he chuckles as he backs you into his bedroom.

“Are we going for round two already, Mr Bridgerton?” Your tone is coquettish.

“Hmmm, I’m not Superman,” he replies playfully. “But I am now in need of another shower, so I thought perhaps we could do that together and then let’s see, it's still early after all.” 

He spins you around and walks you forward into his ensuite bathroom, wrapping his arms around you tight from behind and kissing a line down your neck. He only breaks away to flick on the shower, then leans back against his sink cabinet, pulling you into his arms as you await the warm water.

You glance over, and you spy a pair of tiny black Speedos on a towel rail.

“Is this what you wear in the pool?” You ask, snagging them between your fingers and twirling them around.

“Of course. Why?” his voice laced with intrigue.

“Fuck it; I’ll borrow a costume if I have to. You in these? That I have to see.”

He laughs. 

“It’s an early start. 6 am.” His lips warm on your shoulder. “I was just going to leave you sleeping in my bed then return to ravish you at a more decent hour, perhaps with some coffee and a croissant for you?”

“I changed my mind. Fuck yes, that please,” you declare. “But I will need you to model the Speedos for me at some point, Ben,” you warn with mock sincerity.

“Duly noted,” he chuckles and pulls you under the warm spray of water. 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Aaron and CM Meet-Cute Master List

Photo credits: Left (@themoontaxi) Center (@lesbianladysif) Right (@hotch-girl)

Good afternoon my loves! I hope you’re having a great Saturday/weekend so far. Mine is flying by, but not unpleasantly. The lovely @imagining-in-the-margins has asked me to make a small master list of all the Meet-Cute-Fics I’ve written during October and November, and I’m more than happy to do that. I’m pretty proud of all the writing I’ve accomplished over the last few months. I’ve written 117,496 words of Criminal Minds fanfiction which is roughly 188 pages worth of work. How it happened... well I just love these characters so much, and I can’t stop thinking of ideas for them! I hope to continue loving them for a long time still. I’m also, incredibly grateful for the mutuals that hype me up every day - @sadgirlzluvdilfs @criminalskies @hotchs-big-hands @softhairedhotch @citrusiove. Even if you’re just a silent reader of my work I really appreciate you. I hope you all have a good day and if you ever want to talk, my messages are always open. ❤️ 

You can read the master list below the cut. You can find my full master list, with a lot of my older Spencer content and my academic work, at this link (or it’s just the pinned post on my page.)

Fic Guide: 

✨ = most popular 

❤️  = personal favorite(s)

* = smut 18+ Minors DNI

∆ = must read A/N before the fic 

** = drug use

Aaron Meet-Cute One-Shots 

A for Effort: A meet-cute of how Aaron met the non-BAU reader at Penelope’s theater improv group show. And how Aaron accompanies the reader to host her Halloween extra-credit horror movie watch and discussion for her students. (link) 

Talent *: An inebriated Aaron finds out that the readers has a hidden talent and they offer to show him it later. When they get back to his apartment later, more sober, Aaron apologizes, feeling awkward for getting them into this situation. They (the reader) honestly asks Hotch if he would let them do it anyway. (link)

Eclipsed: A one-shot about how the non-BAU reader saved Aaron from a date gone wrong and when Aaron, Jack, and the reader go to see the solar eclipse together. (link) 

Demons ❤️ : The team is forced into very close quarters during a case on an offshore oil rig in Alaska. It’s bitterly cold and there’s nowhere to go and three men have been beaten and stabbed to death. The team must solve the mystery before it’s too late. A mix-up in rooms also has Aaron and the reader closer than ever. It allows him to learn something new about her. (link)

Pierced: The non-BAU reader gets a new piercing and sends Aaron a picture of it while he’s on a case. To say he’s flustered is a bit of an understatement. (link) 

Melancholia ❤️ : Characters both duck for cover under the same tiny storefront when it starts pouring, aka, how the reader met Aaron. Also, the reader is feeling down due to the seasonal changes and Aaron is there to give her some love and support. (link) 

Everything Stays *: The characters fight over the perfect pumpkin at the patch and explain why each of them needs it; aka, Hotch and the reader watch as Jack and the reader’s niece talk about pumpkins. (link) 

Unwanted Attention ✨: Having to travel to the middle of nowhere Ohio For a serial killer was bad enough, add to the fact that the local LEOs are looking a little too hard at JJ, Emily, and _y/n_, was testing Aaron’s resolve. Lots of protective Hotch here! This is another @imagining-in-the-marginsinspired fic for her Meet Cute Writing Challenge. I’m using the dialog prompt: “Watch where you’re going!” “… You ran into me?!” (link) 

This Space of Ours * ∆: Aaron is subjected to the whims of a sadist in search of revenge because his younger brother was put away by Agent Hotchner and the BAU team. (link) 

Life can be Terrible, but at Least You’re In It * ∆: This is a mix of two of @imagining-in-the-margins Meet-Cute writing challenge dialog prompts. I’ve mixed the two prompts: “Do you believe in Fate” and “This was way too cliched” to write this fic. (link) 

Stalked: The non-BAU reader gets locked out of her apartment and their neighbor picks the lock for you; aka you get locked out of your apartment and Hotch steps in to give you a hand. (link) 

Love is a Maze: The non-BAU reader gets lost in a corn maze… meant for children. She begrudgingly asks a total stranger for help; aka the reader gets stuck in a corn maze and has to ask a total stranger (Aaron) to help her get out. (link) 

Derailed: The non-BAU reader and Aaron are sat together on a long train ride. A one shot in which the reader unexpectedly spends an hour on a train with Agent Aaron Hotchener. (link) 

Haunted Houses and Haunted Hearts: The non-BAU reader gets scared in a haunted tour and jumps in the arms of someone that they think is their friend -- but it’s not. A short one-shot in which you have a spend a few hours with  Aaron Hotchner at a Halloween horror haunt. (link)

Emily One-Shots 

This is becoming a bit of an unintentional series, but you could read these as stand-alones too. 

Moschino and Muddy Water: The non-BAU reader offers unsolicited fashion advice to a total stranger in the dressing room; aka when you meet Emily Prentiss in the Moschino dressing room and give her some confidence… and maybe something more. (link) 

Mean It ✨: Emily accidentally dumps her coffee on the non-BAU reader in a very dramatic fashion; aka when Emily and the reader have their first date and it does not go to plan. (link) 

Halloween Honey *: Emily introduces the non-BAU reader to the team at Derek’s on Halloween night. After they get back to Emily’s apartment they take their relationship to the next level. (link) 

Spencer One-Shots 

Coffee Shop ** ∆ ✨: Characters get the same coffee order. They both reach for it at the same time, aka, when the reader and Specer order the same, oddly specific coffee order and the reader can see that Spencer is struggling and tries her best to be someone he can lean on. This story is more about Aaron and Spencer’s relationship than anything else and it deals with Spencer’s drug abuse problem [the reader is just kind of there.] (link) 

More to come for Aaron, Emily, and Spence soon!

[chasingmidnights]

An Offshore Love - Part Two

Title: Delicate 

Summary: While on the job, you made yourself one rule: no dating. But when you meet Ari, you consider throwing that rule out the window. But will you? 

Warnings: First things first, this is 18+, minors DNI!! Things to look out for in this part would include: Lee being a bit of a jerk; Ari Levinson (yes, he’s a warning); some implied sexual content; minor cursing; and I think that’s everything. I apologize if I missed anything but you are responsible for what you read and your own media consumption. I do not claim to be a professional writer, any and all mistakes are my own; nothing is beta read. 

Wordcount: 3,941

You stood off to the side with Jake as Lee gave the next crew their briefing and their assignments for the day. You listened to how he spoke to the men and you cringed internally with the way he talked to his crew. No wonder this rig was in rough shape, they had a manager who thought they were disposable and easily replaced. Lee’s southern drawl barked out orders and as you glanced out to the men, you could see the life being sucked out of them the longer Lee talked. This isn’t the first time that you’ve seen this and you made several mental notes about Lee and his behavior, you would be discussing with him at a later time. As you stood off to the side, you could feel the crew’s curiosity as you caught several of the men glancing your way. You looked down at your watch and found yourself wondering how much longer Lee was going to talk before he finally mentioned you and why you were here at The Jupiter. Lee was in the middle of handing out orders when one of the crew members interrupted him. 

“Who’s the skirt and her lap dog?” 

You had to keep a straight face as Jake stifled a laugh and Lee rolled his eyes at the interruption. 

“Well, if you had waited a few more minutes for me to finish my briefing Curtis, you would’ve been introduced.” Lee snapped back, narrowing his gaze. 

You wanted to slap Lee for the way he talked to his men. Sure the guy had interrupted, but Lee could’ve been the better man and not have been so rude to him. You didn’t blame them for being so curious, you had been standing off to the side for nearly twenty minutes. You hoped that the other rig drillers weren't as uncompassionate as Lee, a bad manager can be the sole cause alone for a crew not to care and to not give their one hundred percent. 

“But since you’re asking, these two are here from Baizen Oil Industries, hopefully to get your asses whipped back into shape.” Lee introduced before he motioned for you and Jake to come over. 

“Thank you, Mr. Bodecker, although I’m not sure I would’ve exactly phrased it like that.” You said as you took front and center. You introduced yourself before you introduced Jake as your assistant. “Mr. Baizen informed us that this is one of the more problematic offshore oil rigs that the company owns and my assistant and I are here to find out why. Jake and I are here to check on quality of life, to make sure safety protocols are up to date and possibly rearrange crew and management if we feel it necessary.” 

“My quality of life just got better with you being here, sweetheart!” One of the crew members shouted, causing a few of the others to chuckle. 

You were about to put that man in his place when his comment was quickly followed by a groan as another crew member slapped him on the back of the head. 

“Show the lady some respect, Lloyd,” The other man growled. He then gave you a small nod for you to continue. 

As the two of you made eye contact, you almost forgot where you were for a moment. Sure, you had seen blue eyes before but his were different. His reminded you of the ocean, that deep blue color and you had a hard time looking away from the man. You cleared your throat before you started talking again, bringing your attention back to the whole group. 

“Right, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, there are a few things that I won’t allow. I won’t allow any form of disrespect.” You paused for a moment as you shot the man, Lloyd, a look before you continued. “I will also not tolerate laziness or tardiness. At the end of my time here, I hope to turn this whole rig around and make it less problematic for everyone’s benefits.” 

“And what makes you so qualified?” The man with the ocean eyes asked, crossing his strong arms across his chest. You couldn’t help but notice that as he did that, the material of his shirt bulged from his muscular arms. 

“Well, Mr.?” You started.

“Levinson. Ari Levinson.” Blue eyes introduced himself. 

“Mr. Levinson, that’s an excellent question. I've been working for Baizen Oil Industries for the last ten years and the last five years going around to different rigs and doing exactly this kind of work.” You did your best to sound as confident as possible but with the way Ari was staring at you, it was hard.

The small, barely noticeable smirk on the corner of his mouth to his piercing stare caused a warmth to form in your body. You hoped that as you stared back at him, he couldn’t tell that he was having an affect on you. 

“Alright you lazy lot, time to get back to work.” Lee finally said, interrupting the moment you and Ari were having. 

The group of men then dispersed and headed off to do their jobs for the day. You let out a small sigh as you broke eye contact from Arri as he turned to leave, however the feeling that he had given you lingered. Your thoughts started to wander but you were quickly pulled out of them when Lee spoke up again. 

“Ready for a day filled with meetings and training?” 

You internally groaned at having to be in meetings all day, but since this was your job, you knew you had to suck it up. Besides, it was either this or being stuck at a desk back at the main office. But after meeting Ari, you would much rather be daydreaming about him, but since that wasn’t an option, you forced a smile and answered. 

“Lead the way, Mr. Bodecker.” 

After a long day of meetings and a few different safety training sessions, you were glad to get a moment to yourself. Well, almost a moment to yourself, Jake’s typing reminded you that you weren’t alone just yet. You had just finished up your last meeting and wanted nothing more than to take off your shoes and put your feet up. As you pinched the bridge of your nose, you tried to disassociate for a moment, but when Jake spoke up, you were brought back to reality. 

“You alright there, boss?” 

You let out a small sigh as you released the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, just been a long day.” 

Jake nodded, seemingly accepting your answer. “It’s definitely been a long day, I don’t think we even breaked for lunch.” 

As you thought about what Jake said, you knew he was right, especially when your stomach started to growl. A small laugh escaped you and you couldn’t believe you worked through lunch. 

“Well, why don’t you go ahead and head to dinner while I clean up here? I’ll join you shortly.” You suggested as you started to organize and clean up. 

“You sure boss? I can stay and help.” Jake offered as he watched you. 

You had just started making different piles as you sorted through each piece of paper, you had gone through a good chunk of the rig’s books during some of these meetings. “I’m positive. Besides, you don’t know my system.” 

“I’m a fast learner.” Jake countered, a bit curious as to what your system was exactly. 

“Really Jake, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll teach you another day, but I really just want to get this done.” You said as you continued to sort. 

“Alright, alright, if you insist. I’ll see you in a bit.” Jake said as he packed up his laptop and started to leave. 

You gave Jake a small smile as he left, you couldn’t help but appreciate his willingness to learn. Honestly though, if you had taken him up on his offer to help, it would’ve taken twice as long to sort through everything. As you sorted, you tried not to think about anything in particular, wanting to give your brain a break after the long day that you just had. However, you didn’t exactly succeed as Ari popped into your mind, which didn’t exactly complain about. Ari was probably the only good thing about this oil rig, even though you barely knew the man. You couldn’t help but find him extremely attractive and exactly your type. The six foot, five inches of a man and he was big and burly as well. His long, shaggy brown hair and full beard suited him well, you especially like the beard. You wondered what it would feel like to have his face in between your legs and his beard rubbing - no, stop that. You quickly scolded yourself for that type of thinking. Years ago, you gave yourself one rule, no dating any of the men you meet while working on these oil rigs. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you reminded yourself of this, this was going to be an interesting time here on The Jupiter. 

When you were finally done organizing, you collected your things and put them in your bag before locking the door behind you as you left the office. You did your best to memorize your way to the offices so that you could get back to the Hub on your own. However, as you turned a corner and walked down the dimly lit hall, you opened the door when you reached it, but it wasn’t the right door. It opened up to what looked like the stem of the oil rig. You could just barely make out a metal staircase that was attached to the concrete wall and it spiraled down to the bottom. Wind howled through the funnell, giving you goosebumps but you couldn’t help yourself and found yourself peeking further into the concrete leg. After all of these years, you had never actually been inside one of these things, you knew they were hollow but that’s all you knew. You were just about to take a step forward to take another look, when you were suddenly being pulled back, causing you to gasp as you were pinned to the wall, an unhappy Ari glaring at you. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, uh? Do you realize you could’ve gotten hurt going in there?” Ari’s nostrils flared as he tightly held onto you. 

You couldn’t help but feel incredibly small right now as Ari scolded you like a child. 

“Sorry, I got lost.” 

Ari scoffed at your answer as he let go of you. “Where were you trying to get too?” 

“Back to the Hub for dinner. I got turned around.” You explained, watching Ari as h took a step back and ran his fingers through his hair. 

Ari took a deep breath and exhaled it with a huff. “Come on, Rogue, follow me and I’ll take you safely back to the Hub.” 

You scrunched up your face at the nickname that he just gave you before you corrected him and told him your name again. 

“I know, I didn’t forget. I like Rogue better.” Ari replied with a smirk. “Now come on, let’s get going.” 

Butterflies started to form in your stomach, he had given you a nickname. Granted, you had no idea where it came from or the meaning behind it and you made a mental note to ask him, but it was a nickname nonetheless. As Ari led you back to the Hub, you did your best to memorize the path that he took, but he moved so quickly and effortlessly that your main focus was to keep up with him. As the two of you were walking through the rig, you ended up tripping over a raised threshold. However, before you fell on your face, Ari had caught you. 

“Careful, you alright?” Ari asked as he helped you over the threshold. 

“Yeah, just clumsy I guess.” You said as you looked up at him, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. 

For a moment though, it felt as if time stood still as the two of you looked into each other’s eyes. Your heart began to race and you thought it was going to burst out of your chest with how fast it was racing. You had never felt such a connection or so strongly towards a guy before, at least not in a really long time. Also for a moment, it felt as if the two of you were about to kiss, but instead of that, Ari pulled away and let go of you. A wave of disappointment washed over you and you did your best not to let it show. 

“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you Rogue?” Ari asked before he stood tall and combed his fingers through his thick hair. 

You cleared your throat, not knowing how to respond to his question even though you had a feeling it was a rhetorical one. So, you thought it best to change the subject. 

“So, how long have you been working here?” 

A small smirk formed on the corner of his mouth. “This way.” Ari said as he pointed left. “And I’ve been working here for about eleven years.” 

“Do you like it?” You asked, genuinely curious. 

Ari glanced over at you, not expecting you to make this kind of conversation. “It’s not horrible. The job pays well and every couple of weeks I get to go to the mainland to recharge, see family if I want to.” 

You nod your head along to what he was saying. “How do you feel about Mr. Bodecker as your manager?” 

Ari stopped at your question before he spun around to face you. Once you saw the look on his face, you could tell that he was upset. 

“What’s your game here?” He practically growled as his eyes narrowed at you. 

You’re a bit taken aback at his reaction. “M-my game? I was only curious. If you ask me, he seems like a complete ass.” 

Ari chuckled at your comment. “You’re not wrong about that, but around here, if you know what’s best for ya, you keep your mouth shut.” 

The situation was a lot worse than you thought. 

“Right, got it.” You said with a nod, dropping the matter almost instantly. 

The rest of the way to the Hub was quiet. You thought about what Ari had said and pondered how to move forward, it was clear that Lee Bodecker was the problem. 

The passion and pleasure that you were feeling almost felt too good to be true as you and Ari kissed each other hungrily. The feeling of his large hands roaming your body, squeezing you here and there, causing your body to heat up with every touch. Ari had you pinned against the door of his sleeping quarters and you were loving every minute of it, you didn’t want it to end. You let out a squeal as he picked you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. You weren’t sure why or when you decided to throw out your rule but at this exact moment, you really didn’t care as Ari gently laid you down on the mattress. The two of you pulled apart for a brief moment and as the two of you looked longingly at each other, it felt as if time ceased to exist. You knew things would be delicate after this but frankly, you just didn’t care. As things were about to continue, an annoying alarm started to go off. You squinted at Ari confused as to why there was an alarm going off. You leaned into his touch as he cupped your cheek, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before he spoke up, his voice deep and raspy. 

“It’s time to wake up, sweetheart.” 

“What if I don’t wanna?” You questioned as you tried to steady your breathing. 

Ari smirked, letting out a small chuckle before placing another kiss to your forehead. “You don’t really have a choice, sweetheart.” 

You groaned as your dream started to fade and your eyes were met with a dimly lit room. You immediately felt cold as you were no longer in Ari’s embrace, even if it was just a dream. The alarm was still going off and you wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. A heavy sigh left your lips before you reached over to finally shut it off, slamming it a little harder than you meant too. 

“God, was wondering when you were going to shut that awful thing off.” Jake commented as you saw already ready for the day. 

“How long have you been up?” You asked as you sat up, stretching as you did. 

Jake shrugged his shoulders. “About half an hour.” 

“Early riser?” You questioned as you started to get up and ready yourself. 

“Kinda. But honestly, I just don’t sleep well outside of my own bed.” Jake answered. He then stood up, grabbing his backpack as he did before continuing. “Room’s yours, I’ll see you down at breakfast.” 

You gave Jake a nod of the head as he left the room before you laid back on your bed. You let out a groan as you ran a hand down your face once Jake had closed the door. 

“Maybe a cold shower this morning.” You mumbled to yourself as you sat up again and started to get ready for the long day ahead. 

Later that day, you and Jake found yourselves being shown some of the training that the men have to go through. As you walked in on one of the training sessions, you found Ari instructing a course and you found yourself staring at the man, remembering your dream from that morning. For a moment, you had almost forgotten where you were and you had to pull yourself out of that headspace. As you watched Ari giving the instructions, you could tell that the men that he was teaching were following his every word. You made several notes and scribbled a few of them down on your notepad. While you were writing down your notes, you could feel a pair of eyes on you. You did your best to be as subtle as possible as you glanced up and you were met with Ari’s beautiful blue eyes looking at you. You quickly tore your gaze away from him to finish your notes, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from forming. How in the world did this man have such a powerful grip on you? You were usually pretty level headed about this sort of thing but for some reason, Ari was different. You wanted to throw all caution to the wind and not care how complicated or delicate things might become afterwards. 

You hadn’t realized how lost in your thoughts you’d been until Jake nudged you in your side. The small class that Ari had been teaching a safety training was being dismissed and the supervisor who had been showing you and Jake around was now talking to Ari. You couldn’t help but feel as if the two men were talking about you and Jake as they whispered and glanced your way every so often. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Jake leaned over and whispered into your ear. 

“Shush, they’re coming back.” You answered quickly, nudging him in the side, like he did you moments ago. 

The original supervisor walked right by you and Jake and you were about to say something when Ari stopped in front of the two of you. 

“So, I guess I’m taking over for Mr. Humphrey, so you better keep up, don’t get lost, and don’t get hurt.” Ari said as he then pushed past the two of you. 

Throughout the morning, Ari showed you various stations and talked about the importance of each one. You even witnessed a few of the men jumping off of the rig in full scuba equipment to work on something below. When you watched them jump, a shiver crawled down your spine, sure you could visit offshore oil rigs and even stay on them, but you couldn’t do half of what these men do on a daily basis. Every now and then, Jak would make small comments of wonderment and even asked Ari a few questions. As Ari went through the basic day-to-day with you and Jake, you made several notes, both mentally as well as short-handing some notes on your notepad.You also did your best not to stare at Ari’s ass as you walked behind him, though it was hard, especially since he had a masterpiece of an ass. 

When lunch time came around, Ari said we could take a break but he was going to continue with his work. You couldn’t help but admire that, you could tell he was a hard worker and you could see him being a great leader. Jake had already started to head back to the Hub, when you decided to stay behind and talk to Ari. 

“Ari, can we talk?” You asked as you placed your folder that contained your notepad in front of you, holding it against your chest. 

Ari stopped and turned to face you, placing his hands on his hips. ‘God, he looked amazing,’ you thought to yourself as he did that. 

“Sure, about what? What you’ve been making little notes on, Rogue?” 

It was like he read right through you as he took a step forward. Your words seemed to fail you and all you could do was nod your head. Ari reached for your folder and took it from you, thankfully it only had today’s notes in it. Your heart raced as Ari read through your notes, his face unreadable and you felt like a fish trapped in a net. 

“You really think all of this about me? You barely know me.” Ari said as he finally handed you your folder back. 

You cleared your throat as you finally found your voice again. “I have a pretty good judgment of character, part of what makes me good at my job.” 

Ari nodded his head at your answer as he took another step forward. “You really think I would make a good leader?” 

“I do. The men seem to respect you and you seem to actually care about what you do and that things are done correctly.” You managed to get out, you’re not sure how because it felt like you had peanut butter on the roof of your mouth. 

You’re not quite sure how it happened, and not that you were complaining, but you found yourself in a similar situation from your dream this morning. Ari had you pinned against the back of an office door that wasn’t too far from where you were. The two of you kissed each other hungrily and his tongue easily dominated yours with ease and you gladly let him. Your body was on fire as Ari roamed his hands all over it, eventually stopping on your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You did your best to block out any irrational thought, or maybe it was rational but your brain was too muddled as Ari lifted you up and carried you over to an empty desk. Right now, all you cared about was enjoying this moment with Ari and nothing else. You knew deep down though just how delicate things between the two of you was going to be, but as Ari started to remove your shirt, you simply didn’t care.

[theresattrpgforthat]

I'm looking for an RPG where you make a setting collaboratively as a group, ideally with a roleplaying element. I know of Dawn of Worlds, A Quiet Year and Microscope but I'm trying to cast a wider net?

Can you help me out?

THEME: Worldbuilding & Roleplaying

Hello friend! I’m first going to direct you to two other posts I’ve made in the past, one about Town Builders, and one about Map-Making! Not all of them focus as much on roleplay, but I love a number of those games dearly. That being said, there are plenty more world building games out there that I’d love to talk about, and these three certainly allow for a lot of roleplay!

Ech0, by Role Over Play Dead.

Peace. Kids playing in mech wreckage. A ghost. 

One last journey across an ancient battleground to find a pilot's final resting place.

Ech0 is a game about three children and the ghost of a dead mech pilot, travelling through ruins of old battles, looking for the place where the pilot died. The group of you will craft a world shaped by the wreckage of wars past, with mech bodies embedded into a landscape, transformed into memorials, and (possibly) repurposed into something else. You’ll use these landmarks to illustrate a map and craft a history: do the children know what the war was about? Or has it been lost to history? 

I think this is an excellent game for the beginning of a campaign, mech or otherwise. If it’s a mech campaign, it might be set in the far future, after the war that you’ve already fought, or it might be the introduction of a planet that’s enjoyed a few decades of peace before getting launched into yet another conflict. Perhaps the mechs embedded in the soil will be unearthed to fight again and those children you created for Ech0 grow into ambitious and desperate pilots. It’s up to you!

Orichalcum, by Justin Quirit.

To find our way home, we must sift through the ruins and our memories of the Empire. But in our remembering, we must not forget what we have created for ourselves.

Orichalcum is a tabletop roleplaying map game for 1-5 players. Players will lay out a map of the Empire that oppressed their ancestors and drowned in a deluge of its own making. By remembering what was left behind, they will draw a connection from the past to the present. Their people, the Exiles, have evolved past the Empire's ways, and these differences will become features on each player's map of their island home. Orichalcum is a game about drowning empires and imagining utopias.

In this game, players will use printed “tiles” to help determine the kinds of peoples they represent, and the ways they differ from the Empire that has fallen. Each player will draw five tiles and place three; after each player places three tiles, your characters will go home. 

This is a beautiful game to describe a world after a ravenous Empire has finally met its end. I can see this acting as an epilogue after a campaign has watched the world end, or as an introduction to a world post-apocalypse, as different groups rise from the ruins. The pillars give the group inspiration and focus, and by the end of the game, you’ll have a number of different islands, each with unique cultures and peoples, to draw from for rich character backstories.

Lighthouse Keepers, by Chloe Sobel.

The sea was once a city. The sea is still a city: trenches stretch into the deep, dark and teeming with life, mirroring city-nights above.

In the world above the sea, there is a lighthouse. The lighthouse has always been there.

Lighthouse Keepers is a map-drawing game for 1-4 people about a lighthouse and the things that lurk outside it in the deep. You play a collective of lighthouse keepers living in an offshore lighthouse, a tower that stretches from its lantern high above the waves all the way down to the bottom of the sea in the hadal zone.

The game design is based on Avery Alder’s The Quiet Year and Carter Richmond’s Anomaly. Its themes are inspired primarily by Julia Armfield’s Our Wives Under The Sea and, by happy coincidence, it bears several thematic similarities to Robert Eggers' The Lighthouse.

This game has two versions; one with art and one without, in case players feel uncomfortable with some of the sea creatures depicted. This is a horror game - there is something in the water; nobody knows what it is, but everybody fears it. If you want to create a world where a lurking horror grows ever closer, this is absolutely the game for you.

Other games I’ve recommended in the past

Voyage, by Brendan McLeod.

Oldhome: Trip to Turtle City, by Takuma Okada.

[optimiticsolarpunk]

Solarpunk Realism

I think one of the biggest hurdles to solving the climate crisis is that people have trouble imagining a world in which it's been solved. Many people think of the future as dystopian - but it doesn't have to be. We can solve the climate crisis - we just have to collectively start doing it.

I love the art movement called solarpunk. It's a sub-genre of cyberpunk, but where cyberpunk envisions a dystopian future, solarpunk envisions a utopian future. Both have futuristic technology mixed with old school humanity. (Another offshoot of cyberpunk is steampunk, mainly involving Victorian-era steam-powered technology in an alternate past.)

I think an optimistic vision for the future is a critical missing piece to actually solving the climate crisis and other big problems. We can't build a better world until we imagine it. That's what caught my attention with solarpunk; it's a genre of art and creativity that could play a profound role in helping save humanity.

I've been thinking about what a genre of art would look like that helps tell this positive message. At first I thought of calling it optimistic futurism. But as I thought through the idea, I kept getting drawn to solarpunk.

The first mention of the term solarpunk was in an anonymous 2008 blog post called From Steampunk to Solarpunk. In 2014, the artist Olivia Louise posted some conceptual solarpunk art on Tumblr. The next week, Adam Flynn wrote Solarpunk: Notes toward a manifesto. Based on this document and postings on solarpunks.net, in 2019 A Solarpunk Manifesto was posted on the blog of a regenerative design consulting firm.

For many years, I’ve worked on projects and art to help bring an optimistic perspective to the future. Now I’ve found a name for this kind of creativity: solarpunk. I worked mostly in the form of short documentaries and videos.

In early 2021 I started developing a potential TV show that looks at the big question: How do humans solve the climate crisis? I wanted to look at what we are doing and what more we need to do to save ourselves. I call the show Saving Ourselves. It has started out as a web videos series as I continue to try to develop the TV show on a bigger scale. I also started talking to folks building the massive offshore wind farms and other renewable energy projects around the world. We'll need to build thousands of these projects - so I start producing videos about them.

I did this because I think helping people envision a world in which the climate crisis solved is a critical piece to making happen. And what better way to do this than with a TV show?

I'm most interested in how these visions of the future can impact our present: How can we help communicate a positive message that inspires people to build this better world now? Call it solarpunk realism.

I want to look at the technologies we have now and in the near future and comment on ways I think the most likely scenarios will play out to solve big problems like the climate crisis. This is where the art form can have a major positive impact on our world and our future.

Art that helps us imagine a realistic vision of what a better world would look like.

My hope is that when we are able to see this better world, the next step will be to go out and build it.

Solarpunk themes include renewable energy, well-designed cities and community. It envisions advanced technology to help us get back to a more natural world - where nature is nurtured by technology.

Community thrives, people work and play together in harmony. We've learned how to let the Earth provide us with everything we need - and we no longer harm the Earth in the process - we feed and nurture it. A healthy Earth means healthy species and a healthy humanity.

I think solarpunk is best when technology is used less in some spaces - like less social media. We learn to be healthier with our use of technology to help humanity, and the World, thrive.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

📢 KINK FEST IS HEEEEEERE!!! 📢

Okay, let's try... Juice Ortiz (shocker 😊)

*Competency kink - him talking about his first paying hacker job before coming to CA. (This kink is SO me irl.)

*Manhandling & Overstimulation

DomJuice is the sexiest Juice. 💦

Masterlist

The Know-how

Contains: Consent and kink negotiation, fluff, Dom Juice/sub Reader, competency kink, manhandling, silk bondage, orgasm denial, overstimulation, hand on neck, oral sex F reviving, fingering, P in V, aftercare.

2.9K words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #sp's kinkfest pick and mix

A day at the office turns into a night of sin.

"Hey Juicy."

Juice stood up and wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face into your neck, "hey gorgeous, how was your day?"

You smiled, "same old, same old. How was yours?"

Juice sighed, "I still can't get any info on this guy for Jax and I've been at it for hours."

"You want some help? I know I can't hack but I can keep you company." Juice took your hand and walked you to the computer, pulling up a chair next to his for you to sit down, "what are you stuck on?"

He swallowed, "this guy's offshore bank account has payments in it that I can't find the source of, it's set as a private transfer but the person doesn't exist."

You thought for a moment, "have you searched for the name in old funeral records? Try cemeteries where this person lives or works. It's not uncommon for someone looking to steal an identity to just walk through a graveyard and pick a name. They could have chosen the first name from one and the last name from another. People often also chose fake identities with their same initials too."

Juice clacked away, nodding along as you talked, "where were you the first time I did this?"

You giggled, "I'm not sure, when was the first time you did this?"

Juice smiled, "I'll tell you all about it later, right now just sit there and look pretty while I follow up on the lead you just gave me."

It took a while but a huge smile came over Juice's face and then he was printing something off and standing up in a flash, stopping by to smack a kiss on your forehead, "you are a fucking genius y/n. I love you so much."

He raced off the find the others, leaving you there confused, "what did I do?"

Juice spun on his heel with a smile, "everything, I owe you so hard."

Juice came running in twenty minutes later, just as happy as when he left. "So, did you get anything? You didn't really let me know before you ran off."

Juice nodded aggressivity, "your tip worked, dude was moving his own money around using a fake name. The names were taken from the cemetery in the town he grew up in. I'm almost done here, I've just got a bit left to research. Stay with me and we can go home together?"

"Of course sweetheart, I love watching you work." You wrapped your arms around Juice while he finished his work, Juice turning his head every time he got somewhere to press a kiss to your lips.

"If you're going to kiss me when even you do something I'm going to have to come to work with you every day."

Juice smiled, "I'd love that, I'd get so much done."

With one last key clack, he was done. He stood up and held out his hand, you took it and he helped you up like a real gentleman, brushing his hand over your face as he leaned in to kiss you, "you ready to head home gorgeous?"

You nodded, "yes please."

****

The moment you got home, Juice was dropping down to the floor to help you take your shoes off, a soft smile on his face as you thanked him sweetly, "there's more where that came from, I'm going to run you a bath while you have a quick shower then I'm going to do your hair, how does that sound?"

You smiled, "that sounds great, is something going to happen after my hair is done?"

Juice grinned, "well y/n, that depends on you." He held out his hand and you linked your fingers in his while he walked you to the bathroom, pausing just before you reached the door to slowly undress you. He took his time, grazing his fingers over your skin as it was revealed to his eyes, his gaze hot.

"You like what you see?"

Juice smirked, "you know I do." He came behind, wrapped his arms around your body, pressing his lips to your neck before directing you to wait while he ran the bath, once the tub was full, he walked over to run and shower then stood by and watched while you washed the day off.

"You are such a perv."

He chuckled, "you say that now but you have no idea what else I have planned."

You climbed out of the shower and Juice helped you into the bath before moving to sit at your head and start your hair. He spread conditioner on his palms before slicking your stands and beginning to comb it out, stopping every now and then to scratch your scalp. "That feels so nice, I am one lucky woman."

Juice chuckled, "yeah, what makes you say that?" You smiled, his fingers rubbing the ache out of your shoulder while the conditioner sat in your curls.

"You have really strong hands, you're very handsome and you look after me so well."

Juice's hand moved to your upper chest, his fingers lingering just below the water. "The first thing you mention is my hands, you know how to make a guy feel good."

You sighed, "you were going to tell me the first time you hacked."

Juice leaned down and kissed your temple, "alright, you sit back and relax and I'll do that while I finish your hair." You relaxed against his hands, Juice's voice filling the room, "I was hired by a woman to catch her cheating husband, I had only really hacked game servers before this point so it was pretty lost at first but she managed to get me his email password and I went from there. He used the same password for every website so it was basically no work to get all his info, until it came to this one message board."

You nodded, "what happened next?"

Juice's hands moved down to rub your arms, "I couldn't get into his account so I hacked the whole website, I found a bug in the code that let me get in by setting up and fake account then putting malware in a photo I uploaded. After that it was easy, all I had to do was search for his account and I had everything." Juice was so sure and confident, his hands becoming more insistent as time went.

"Was he cheating?"

Juice nodded, "oh yeah, with a lot of women, she left him and took most of his shit in the divorce, I was also able to prove that she was the main reason his business was going so well, I didn't charge her for that."

You smiled, "you're a good man Jaun."

He leaned over you and pressed an upside down kiss to your lips, taking in your blown pupils and rising chest, "I wash your hair all the time and you're never this turned on, what's doing it for you pretty girl?"

"I like hearing you talk, especially about what you enjoy. It's a bonus that you're so good at computers, you sound so smart when you talk about all the little things you do to get the job done."

Juice was washing the conditioner out in a flash, "let's finish up here, I'm not done thank you for all your help today."

Once out of the bath, he dried you and your hair, redressed you, and then styled your hair before walking you into the kitchen, "I'm going to put dinner on, you sit there and relax."

You looked at him through your lashes, "I don't want dinner, I want you."

Juice smiled, "tough, with what I've got planned, you're going to need a full stomach."

****

Juice took his time putting dinner together, making sure it was perfect for you before putting it on the table and sitting down next to you with his legs pressed against yours, "what's the hardest hack you've ever done?"

Juice smirked, "the FBI database."

You raised your eyebrows, "the FBI database wow, how did that turn out?"

"Well none of us are in prison." Juice took in the expression on your face with lust in his eyes, "what would you like to do tonight?"

You smiled, finishing your food just as Juice asked, "whatever you want, I'm not picky."

Juice finished his own plate and took yours from the table, "alright then, head off to the bedroom and wait on the bed, I'll be there soon."

You waited on the bed in your PJs for Juice to come in, he was different when the door opened, gone was sweet, gentle Juice and in front of you was a man who knew what he wanted and how he was going to get it. He pecked you before going to the side of the bed and pulling out the chest, your eyes going wide as he pulled out the soft silk ties and placed them on the bed.

"You sure you want this?"

You nodded, "of course, don't you?"

Juice swallowed, "remind me of what you're going to say if you want to stop."

You reached out and Juice took your hand, "the usual, no, stop, that hurts." Juice smiled and picked up one of the lengths of silk, going to wrap it around your wrist. You giggled and yanked your hand away, Juice moving to stop you.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You smiled, "making you work for it." You stood up in a shot and tried to get away, Juice grabbing you before you could even get away from the bed. He threw you on the mattress and climbed on top of you, straddling you so you'd stop trying to get away while ripping your clothes from your body. You did your best to struggle from his grasp but it was no use, he was so much stronger than you.

Once you were naked, he used one hand to grab the silk while the other held your wrists. It took seconds before he had your hands tied, two lengths of fabric left, "hands above your head, now." You thought about disobeying but Juice spoke again, "you're already going to be lucky to cum tonight, don't test me."

You lifted your hands up above your head, resting your arms on the pillow. Juice tied your hands down first, making sure you were comfortable before moving down to your legs, he ran his hand up and down your flesh before slipping the silk over your ankles and tying you to the foot of the bed with your legs spread wide.

Once you were spread eagle and unable to move, Juice lost his clothes then kissed one ankle, stopping once he reached the apex of your thigh then kissing down the other leg, alternating legs on the way back up. He smiled when his eyes met your core, reaching a hand out to run a finger up and down your slit, "you're very wet for me, you wanna tell me why?"

You moaned as Juice's index finger found your clit, "I've been like this since the bath, hearing you talk about your passions is very hot."

Juice's middle finger joined his index on your centre, rubbing you gently while you tried to get yourself under control. He hovered over you, pressing kisses to your skin as he slid two of the sure fingers inside you while his thumb found your clit. "Don't cum little girl, you'll regret it if you do."

You nodded, "yes Juice."

He smiled, "good girl. Are you feeling good?"

You gasped as his fingertips met your G-spot, "I'll take that as a yes." He rested on his elbow and his lips pressed to yours, kissing you softly while he built you up. It didn't take long despite the slow touch because you felt the telltale heat spreading through your body. Juice knew too because he was stopping before you could fall over the edge.

You fought the urge to pull, knowing Juice would just extend your torture, "good girl, if you keep this up the night will go just how you want it to." You relaxed against the pillows as Juice started again and you could feel the callouses on his fingers as they stroked you. It didn't take long for you to be close again, and Juice stopped for the second time.

He kissed your lips one last time before beginning a journey down your body, stopping like run his tongue around both nipples, one after the other as his fingers picked up the pace. As he felt you start to quiver, he stopped the fingers on your core but wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked it into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth.

The change in sensation had your body confused, you opened your eyes and blinked at him, Juice lifting his head to smile, "you're doing so well for me little girl." You whimpered as his fingers started moving again, Juice resuming his journey down your body.

When he reached your core, his thumb left your clit and his tongue took its place, almost immediately after he made contact he stopped, mindful that the warmth of his mouth had you dangling on the edge. Your breath caught in your throat as he finally sealed his lips around your clit. You pulled on the silk and Juice chuckled, the vibrations making the situation even worse.

The lost count of how many times Juice built you up, stopping just right before you reached the peak each time. Your brain was getting fuzzy, and as much as you wanted to be good for him, it was getting hard to make sense of anything. But Juice seemed to know, adding a third finger and when you got to the edge this time, he didn't stop.

You did your best to hold back, Juice hadn't given you permission yet and you didn't want to disobey him. He must have realised what was happening because he lifted he head and waited for you to be there enough to hear him, "I've got you pretty girl, you can let go." The second he was done, you were aching off the bed and cumming around his fingers, Juice groaning as you squeezed him with all your might.

He didn't stop, rather he sped up just enough that the extra sensation pushed you over the edge again. You flinched away from him but he didn't stop, one hand looping over your leg to stop you from shaking violently. "Juice, I can't."

He chuckled, "yes you can, just one more, can you do that for me?"

You gasped, "I don't know."

Juice paused for a moment and waited for you to regain your breath, "alright, do you want something different?" You swallowed and went to grab him, only to be stopped by the fabric tying you to the bed, Juice was next to you in a flash, placing his hands around your face to look into your eyes, "tell me what you need little girl."

You took in a sharp breath, "I need you inside me."

Juice smiled, his lips falling on your cheek, "you've been so good for me and that's what you're asking for, of course I can do that." He grabbed his cock and ran it up and down your slit before sliding inside you, grunting as you enveloped him in warmth. "Fuck, how are you so tight."

He sounded pained, "I thought that was a good thing?"

Juice took a deep breath, "oh honey, of course it is, I just don't want to take the hit to my self confidence."

You giggled and Juice put his hand over your mouth, "your laugh isn't helping, you know how much I love that sound." He rolled his hips, the hand on your mouth coming to wrap around your neck, it was hard and hot and you knew the strength behind it and yet you felt no fear.

"Oh my God." You heaved in a breath as you felt yourself get close again, Juice angled his hips to grind hard against you, the hand on your neck keeping you from floating off into space. "You can do it, you know how good it will feel." You were powerless to deny him, you were vaguely aware that he was coating your insides but your brain was elsewhere.

He shifted his hips and slid out of you but didn't move off your body, resting his weight on you while he went to untie your hands. He brought your wrists to his mouth, kissing away to nonexistent bruises, the silk too soft to do any damage.

"Can I untie your legs now or do you need me to hold you for a bit longer?"

You sighed, "whatever you think is best." Juice returned you smile softly, "alright, I'll do your legs then clean you up, can you drink some water for me while I do that?" He pointed over to the table and you picked up the glass, gulping down the cooling liquid gratefully.

Once your legs were untied, Juice gave them the same treatment, pressing gentle kisses to the skin. "I'll be back in two seconds, I'm just going to get something to clean you up." He made sure to make small talk in the few moments that you couldn't see him then he was back with a warm damp cloth in hand.

You flinched when he went to clean you, Juice chuckling softly, "sorry gorgeous." He threw the cloth away and climbed into bed, pulling you into his arms, "you doing good?"

You nodded, "yes, I'm going great, are you?"

You grinned, "hell yeah I'm doing great, you need anything else from me?" You shook your head, "no, just hold me?"

"Of course, I love you y/n."

You pressed your lips to his bare chest, "I love you too."

Fin

[kaijudyke]

DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THE NEW ORCA SPECIES

i'm assuming you're talking about the proposed distinction between resident and transient orcas? i had to check bc i hadn't actually seen that a decision had been made (i did see when the study came out a few months back so i knew it had been proposed) and it looks like they haven't actually been accepted as separate species but are for the moment being recognized as distinct subspecies. the society for marine mammalogy's list of marine mammal species and subspecies currently lists them like this:

Orcinus orca (Linnaeus, 1758). Killer whale, orca

O. o. ater (Cope in Scammon, 1869). Resident killer whale

O. o. orca (Linnaeus, 1758). Common killer whale

O. o. rectipinnus (Cope in Scammon, 1869). Bigg’s killer whale

and this is what the text says about it:

Based on genetic, morphological and ecological data, Morin et al. (2024) provided a taxonomic revision for two ecotypes of Orcinus orca in the eastern North Pacific: Bigg’s killer whale (also known as transient ecotype) and the resident killer whale. The level of differentiation observed led the authors to recommend their recognition as distinct species: O. rectipinnus (Bigg’s killer whale) and O. ater (resident killer whale). Although the majority of the voting members recognize the high level of differentiation between the two ecotypes in all the evidence presented in Morin et al. (2024), there was uncertainty whether this diagnosability represented species- or subspecies-level designation. Some points argued against species designation at the time included: 1) the nesting of both clades within the wider O. orca clade in the mitogenome phylogeny; 2) presence of episodic gene flow among the ecotypes, which needs further investigation; and 3) the need to conduct a more comprehensive analysis on a global context to better understand how distinct these two ecotypes are from other Orcinus orca clades, including those found at latitudes below ~34º N off the coasts of California and Mexico and the more northerly Bigg’s and offshore ecotypes, which were not evaluated in the paper. Previously, the Committee followed the recognition in Krahn et al. (2004) of two un-named subspecies of killer whales for the eastern North Pacific, which were listed in previous version of the List of Proposed Un-named Species and Subspecies. These two un-named subspecies correspond to the resident and Bigg’s/transient ecotypes, respectively. Therefore, pending a more complete global review and revision of the killer whales, the two ecotypes are considered here provisionally as distinct subspecies of Orcinus orca and named following Morin et al. (2024): O. orca ater (resident killer whale) and O. orca rectipinnus (Bigg’s killer whale), with O. orca orca (common killer whale) as the nominate subspecies.

it remains to be seen how everything shakes out after further research! thanks for prompting me to check back in with this, it had totally slipped my mind and if anyone i follow has talked about it since the decision was made it's escaped my notice. it's such a shame residents and transients are so much easier to study (and so much better understood as a result) than other ecotypes, i would love to see a really thorough examination of every extant ecotype and a judgment on speciation more broadly. i know they argue for this in the text but of course there's a reason the paper only covered two ecotypes. it feels so weird to see residents and transients listed next to "common killer whale" as if the rest of them are all the same! have you seen what a type D looks like?? i hope we get to learn more about the less studied ecotypes in the not too far future and that future decisions like this can have a broader scope!

[ncisfranchise-source]

CBS‘ NCIS with its Season 21 premiere on Monday night, yes, threatened to send Special Agent Nick Torres to prison for murder. But it also, with its last moments, planted the seed for what promises to be one of the long-running drama’s most emotional storylines.

On the Torres front: When last we tuned in, Nick following an undercover op in prison was laying in wait inside the home of Maurice Riva, the man who decades prior terrorized his mother and family. Season 21 opened with the reveal that Riva had been found killed, and the voicemail that Nick had left for his sister Lucia — saying that he had found Riva — was quite the semi-smoking gun.

Upon being arrested, at NCIS, for Riva’s murder, Torres proceeded to not refute the charge. Instead, he thought he was protecting Lucia, who had left him a vague voice message about getting justice. (Note to the Torres family: Next time, text! And with details!) But neither Lucia nor Nick had offed Riva. Nope, it had been Nick’s prison pal Reymundo De Leon’s mom aka Riva’s latest victim. She killed Riva, then made off with his offshore money stash — but was nice enough to leave behind a full confession, to absolve Torres et al.

Then….

At episode’s end, Torres turned in his badge and gun, having brutally assaulted Riva and all, but Parker waved off the gesture, instead telling his agent, “One day at a time, Nick.” Parker’s cell then chirped, and after answering, he told the caller, Jimmy, “Whoa, whoa, slow down….” After listening a bit more, Parker’s face turned sullen, which McGee, Torres and Knight instantly clocked.

“What’s going on…? What is it?” asked McGee. And though Parker said nothing before the episode cut to black-and-white, TVLine can confirm that he had just received the incredibly sad news — that NCIS medical examiner-turned-historian Dr. Donald “Ducky” Mallard, who since Day 1 had been played by the late David McCallum, has passed away.

That sets the stage for next week’s full-on Ducky/David McCallum tribute episode, titled “The Stories We Leave Behind” and co-written by longtime NCIS cast member Brian Dietzen with EP Scott Williams.

In that episode, as NCIS mourns Ducky, the agents find some comfort in working on one of his unfinished cases involving a woman whose father was dishonorably discharged from the Marines.

Speaking with TVLine about crafting the very special Feb. 19 episode, Dietzen said, “Scott and I talked about it and decided we still wanted it to be an NCIS show — it wasn’t going to be entirely a clip show of ‘Ducky’s Greatest Hits’ — and we should come up with a case that’s thematically linked in some way to losing a valued and loved team member. So we came up with this concept of how, when we’re done with with life, the stories that we leave behind are what’s important. What’s important is what’s left to our loved ones.”

TVLine’s full preview Q&A with Dietzen will publish later this week.

[space-mermaid-writing]

Faded Black Ink [IronStrange] - Chapter 16

Relationship: Doctor!Stephen Strange x Mafia!Tony Stark

Tags: Mafia AU, Angst, Romance, Idiots in love

Ko-fi | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's note: Where's Tony?

Chapter 16: Norway

Stephen looked out the window of the private jet, seeing almost nothing beside the dark night. There was just a faint stripe of light at the horizon. It was certainly not his first time flying, so him being nervous had nothing to do with him being on a plane.

It had been three weeks since Peter had shown up at his house and asked him about Tony. Three long weeks in which they hadn't heard a word from Tony or his kidnappers. In which they hadn't found out anything. It was as if Tony had vanished from thin air.

The only comfort was that no body had turned up. It was a small comfort and the uncertainty was almost worse.

Peter visited him a lot in these three weeks. The first time he had sat outside Stephen's apartment door – not the front entrance of the building complex. Stephen just took one look at him, before he told him to move his ass inside. They had ordered pizza and watched a movie. Since then the boy had appeared at least twice a week for a movie and food. He talked about his college plans and Stephen told him stories about his time at the university. They never talked about Tony.

Until two days ago.

Pepper had called him and told him to come to her place. Rhodey and Peter were present – Stephen had expected that – but so were some other people from Tony's inner circle: Steve, Sam, Natasha and Clint. Stephen was surprised but he trusted Pepper enough not to question it.

They had found out that Stane paid a cargo ship that left the same night as Tony's disappearance. It was via offshore bank accounts and he covered his tracks pretty well. But they were determined to find Tony and tracked down all the details. Everything pointed to human trafficking. Where to?

"Fredrikstad, Norway."

Stephen couldn't believe his ears. "Why the fuck Norway?"

"We don't know," Pepper admitted. "But there are big transshipment centers that go to east Europe. And lots of people get lost there."

"The problem is we have no influence in any of the Scandinavian countries," Rhodey added. "We can't just barge in there."

"Why not?" Stephen asked.

They explained to him in a few words, how family structures worked internationally. Since it involved Tony Stark, it was officially a family business and thus had to be done through official channels. Norway was foreign territory. If they operated there without asking, they would get into real trouble. So they needed to make an official request to one of the influential families. But even if they pleaded the importance of the case, it would take time, especially since it was a first contact. And that would mean they would miss the arrival of the container by a long shot.

Stephen's mind was racing, hearing all these hindering procedures. "Okay, I'm not an expert in these things. So if we had a contact on site, it would help us to get to Tony in time?"

"Correct."

"I need to make a call." With those words, he got up and left the room.

And that single call was the reason he was sitting in this private jet. Rhodey, who had been raiding the bar for snacks, sat down in the seat across from him – on the seat next to him, was Stephen's doctor's bag.

"I still can't believe you know the Odinsons. You're full of surprises, Doctor Strange."

"If it helps us getting Tony home."

The streak on the horizon had grown brighter. They were heading toward it, and so the sunrise was coming faster than usual. Stephen had thought about getting a drink or five to calm his nerves, but he wanted to keep his head clear for this. It was bad enough that this was an overnight flight and he was barely getting his eyes shut. Quite the opposite of Natasha, who accompanied them because she spoke the language, and who had stretched out across another row of seats further back. With two of those thin blankets that seem to be the same on all flights whether economy or private on her, she slept peacefully as if they were on their way to a vacation. Stephen envied that trait.

They landed in the early morning hours at what didn't look like an official airport near Fredrikstad. As they descended the steps from the plane – Natasha had woken up just minutes before and was now walking behind Stephen - they saw a dark car waiting for them. A woman with tanned skin and pulled back braids in a suit stood next to it. Stephen recognized her as one of the security guards of the Odinsons. Val, if he remembered correctly. She opened the car door and Thor Odinson himself stepped out. He closed the top button of his jacket and looked toward them, his expression serious.

"Welcome to Norway," he greeted the trio, "Good to see you again, Doctor Strange. Unfortunately under these circumstances."

"Seems like we're making a habit of circumstances." Stephen shook his hand. "These are James Rhodey and Natasha Romanoff."

"Thanks for helping us," Rhodey added politely, while Nat remained silent.

"Of course. The doctor called in a favor. Plus, I hope that we may talk about business in the future."

"Well, I can't make promises in Tony's name, but if we're successful today, it will be due to your help."

"Well said." Thor patted Rhodey on the shoulder, then directed them to get into the car. "I have arranged everything. We will drive to the port immediately."

The car was an SUV limousine, big enough that they could all sit in the back, while Val took the seat at the wheel. The doctor was wide awake now. He had a distant feeling of jet lag, but like during a long surgery, he pulled through.

Thor's cell phone rang and he answered it, exchanging a few words in Norwegian that probably only Nat understood otherwise. But since they were all sitting together in a confined space, she didn't translate. Besides, Thor himself told them the most important news himself: "We found the cargo ship. It is waiting for you."

"Do you have eyes on it?" Rhodey asked, and Thor nodded.

"My people are boarding as we speak."

And Tony, hopefully, too.

Under other circumstances, Stephen probably would have been admiring the scenery on the drive. The airfield where they had landed was outside the city and they passed beautiful forests and fields. But he couldn't concentrate on nature.

Fortunately, the drive didn't take long.

The port of Fredrikstad was bustling, but Val steered the car between the people and pallet transporters. Some of the dockworkers gave them nasty looks when they just happened to be in the way and Stephen was pretty sure that they were not allowed to drive here with the car. Val didn’t seem to care.

Even though the place was crowded, it wasn't hard to figure out which ship they were heading for. It was the only one in the whole port without any activity. Even though it was fully loaded with containers, there were no dock workers busily walking around on deck tending to the cargo or bringing the necessary paperwork and documentation on and off the ship.

There were three SUVs parked nearby that looked suspiciously similar to the one the Americans were sitting in. As they parked, a man walked down the plank and looked toward them, waitingly. He wore a coat over a Norwegian sweater and, with his blond-styled hair, he looked more like a fashion model than a dock worker. An MP strapped across his torso told that he was one of Thor’s men.

At the bottom end of the plank, he stopped and greeted the new arrivals with arms outstretched. "Welcome, friends from overseas." His gaze lingered on Natasha and he winked at her. The scowl he got back was usually enough to scare any man off, but this guy didn't seem to notice it.

"Did you run into any problems, Fandral?" Thor asked. Apparently he already knew his antics well enough and didn't think they were worth mentioning.

"Nei, everything went smoothly. The captain is waiting for you." With a broad grin, Fandral turned and led them to the ship.

Stephen fell a few steps back. Until Tony was found, there wasn't much he could do. He didn't speak the language - Nat was there for that - and left all negotiations and conversations to Rhodey, who acted as Tony's second in command.

The captain of the ship was - understandably - not overly happy about his crew being kept from their work. If he had anything to do with the kidnapping or knew about it, he showed no remorse. He argued loudly with Natasha and even Thor. Rhodey stood next to them, had the most important things translated and, when the cue came, pulled out the correct papers that identified him as the owner of the container they were searching for. They were fake but a pretty damn good one.

More words were exchanged, but the captain soon realized that the quickest way to regain control of his ship was to cooperate. And so he finally instructed his first mate, who was standing nearby, to take the foreign men to their damn container.

The mate took the papers from Rhodey and led them to the cargo.

A container ship was an impressive craft. Wider and more heavily built than any ship Stephen had ever set foot on - admittedly, it hadn't been many ships - it carried hundreds of containers that took up almost the entire surface of the deck. The large metal boxes were lined up and stacked on top of each other and could only be moved by cranes. It was a feat of engineering that this mass of metall managed to cross the Atlantic safely.

They were lucky: the container of their papers was in the lowest row, so it was one of the few that could actually be accessed without a crane. Some of its red paint was already peeling off, but otherwise it still made a very sturdy impression.

They had no key for it. For Thor, however, this posed no problem, as he instructed one of his men, "Volstagg." He snapped his fingers and a big guy stepped forward. Where the others had slung firearms across their bodies, he carried some sort of mobile metal circular saw. He slid a pair of sunglasses from his hair on his face and turned the device on. With loud, screeching noises and flying sparks, he easily cut through the center seam of the doors.

Rhodey helped to open them and was also the first to take a step inside, closely followed by Stephen.

The smell that hit them reminded the doctor of the night he had spent on the docks in New York. Before the FBI had arrested them all. It was the stench of people who hadn't showered in a long time.

"Tony?"

There was no answer. Someone flashed a light into the dark corners of the container. There was a wool blanket and remnants of canned food and water canisters. But otherwise the space was empty. Stephen's heart sank. They were at the right address, they had to be. But they were too late. Tony was no longer here. His gaze found Rhodey's, who returned it grimly.

They had been so close. Stephen could feel Tony's presence still lingering.

Thor started talking to the first mate and seemed to be pelting him with what sounded like questions. But the man merely pointed at the container and didn't seem to be much help.

"Now what?" the doctor asked Rhodey, for he had run out of ideas. Rhodey took another closer look around the container to see if anything indicated where Tony had disappeared to.

Suddenly they heard a shout and stepped back out into the daylight. Natasha came with long strides - Stephen hadn't even realized she had left – with a struggling ship's worker in tow. Val followed right behind them, a hand on her gun, making sure the guy didn't do anything stupid.

When Nat caught up to them, she shoved the ship's worker to Thor's feet. "He says a helicopter picked someone up from the ship last night."

Immediately, everyone perked up. Stephen was pretty sure that helicopter rides were very unusual on cargo ships.

The guy was still relatively young, maybe in his early twenties, at least the lack of beard growth gave that impression. He was clearly intimidated by the group that had so rudely taken over the ship, more so probably by their displayed weapons. He looked back and forth between Thor and Volstagg, the two largest men, and spoke very quickly. Fear resonated in his voice.

Nat stood between Rhodey and Stephen and quietly translated for them both.

"The ship anchored in the open waters last night. He heard a helicopter and looked and saw that someone had been picked up. It looked like a medical transport, but no one from the crew was missing. He noticed that and thought it was odd."

Thor asked the man a question, to which he responded after a moment's thought.

"The helicopter went north along the coast." Natasha looked to Thor, who knew the land best. "Where could they have been headed?"

Thor patted the young ship worker on the shoulder and said a few words to him. The man shook his head hesitantly. Shrugging his shoulders, Thor turned away from him. Only then did he answer Natasha. "There are many possibilities. If you're right and Stark is to be taken to Eastern Europe, my money is on a freight yard and a train route to the mainland. Ships and trucks are checked much more often, especially through Germany and Poland. The train routes are well connected and it's much easier to hide someone there."

"Where's the nearest freight yard in the north?" Rhodey asked.

"Oslo."

It was the only lead they had, and since the only alternative was to return home empty-handed, they took it. They weren't going to give up that quickly. Even if it was a shot in the dark.

If it really had been Tony who had been taken off the ship last night - and that seemed quite likely, because if there really were as many controls as Thor said, it was wise to get him off the ship before it reached port - then he had a head start of several hours. In that time, there were certainly dozens of trains coming in and out of the station. If it was even the right station they were headed for. If he was to be put on a train at all. That was a lot of whens and ifs. But it was all they had at the moment and so Stephen clung to it. In his mind he was with Tony, calling out to him that they were on their way to get him. He had to wait for them just a little longer.

At least, it seemed that the kidnappers were anxious to keep Tony alive, and that was worth something.

It took them an hour to reach Oslo and then another half an hour to arrive at the train station.

It was huge; bigger even than the port and also much more chaotic. There were dozens of parallel tracks, transshipment halls and customs buildings. And in between, cranes lifting pallets of goods or cars onto or off trains.

It would be impossible for the small group consisting of Rhodey, Stephen, Natasha, Thor and Val to search everything here on their own. But fortunately, the two locals knew how to handle the situation as well. They asked their way to the control center, where they bribed a supervisor who could tell them which freight trains would be in question between last night and today. And after slipping some money to the guy who was sitting at the surveillance, they were even allowed to go through the video recordings.

There were several hours of footage. It would take forever to look through it all, even with increased speed. But it was their only lead.

Since Thor couldn't do anything else for them and he had other business to tend to, he and Val said their goodbyes. He had already done more for them than was necessary for a simple favor anyway. Still, he promised them that no matter how the search went on, there would be a car waiting for them.

"Thank you so much for your help." Rhodey shook the Norwegian's hand in farewell. "We won't forget that."

"It was my pleasure. I hope to hear from Stark soon."

And wasn't that true for all of them.

Thor and Val left and the group turned back to the screens. They were allowed to use a workstation that was currently unoccupied. The persuasive skills of Nat and more money from Rhodey were convincing enough that they were left alone in the process.

Stephen had always been vocal about his opinion about bribing in the past, but at this moment he was very glad that some people didn't share his sentiment.

"I'm going to find us some coffee," he told them, because there was no way he would be functioning further without any caffeine in his system.

Rhodey just nodded, his eyes already glued to the screens. He didn't need to tell the doctor to hurry. Stephen knew himself that six eyes saw more than four.

He left the control room and headed back down the stairs to a lobby they had come through earlier. He hadn't paid much attention to it at the time, but he remembered seeing a kind of break room, which he was heading to now.

It was lunchtime and a lot of people were walking in the hallways. Some had a take-out bag in their hands, others were apparently changing shifts. Only a few paid attention to him, and if they did, it was usually only with a quick glance. Most people were simply minding their own business, and Stephen was glad of that.

He found the room without any trouble and actually discovered a vending machine that offered kaffe next to some tables and lockers. He didn't even need to know the local language to find the right buttons. And he could even pay with a card.

Stephen drew three cups of coffee, which he took back to Rhodey and Natasha.

They divided the video footage among three screens and each reviewed one. The videos were switching between different cameras. Stephen was sure that not the entire train station was being monitored, but only the areas where goods were stored or trains were loaded. He watched a sequence of forklifts loading pallets from a rack into a train wagon. Then a crane lifted heavy metal parts onto a train.

Surely dozens of trains were being handled every hour. And with the head start the hijackers had.…

"I've got something!" Nat suddenly exclaimed. She rewound and replayed the last few minutes she had watched. According to the time, it had been in the early morning hours, when the lanterns had already gone out, but the sun wasn't shining that brightly yet. Probably around the time they had landed with the jet. The video wasn't very good. Still, it clearly showed a small group of people hoisting a suspiciously human-shaped package into a wagon.

Rhodey called over the supervisor who had helped them earlier. "Where is this train going?" he asked him. Natasha had to repeat the question again in Norwegian before the man properly understood what they wanted. He looked at the recording and then flipped through a folder with his lips pinched together. It seemed like the man was not a fan of human trafficking right under his nose.

Impatiently, they waited for him to find the right page. Whatever he found there, he typed into a computer, and a small message appeared.

"The train is going to Beldgrad, Serbia, via Berlin," Nat translated the supervisor's words.

"We need the exact route," Rhodey urged them. Perhaps they could catch up with the train at its next stop. No one knew for sure if Tony was to arrive at the final destination or if he would be taken off before. The sooner they reached the train, the better. The different countries they had to travel through could pose a problem. But this close to the finish line, Rhodey wasn't about to give up. He was willing to take advantage of any contact he had in Europe if it meant they found Tony. "Ask him about departure, stopovers, arrival time..."

"It hasn't departed yet," Nat suddenly interrupted him on the supervisor's next words, running for the door. "It's due in twelve minutes. Platform 318."

Stephen grabbed his doctor's bag and ran after her and Rhodey. "Delay the departure!" he was shouting to the supervisor, but he wasn't sure the man understood him well enough or even had the authority to do so. They had to hurry.

They ran like crazy, not caring about the looks they were getting. Again and again workers had to jump out of their way and became unfriendly. Stephen recognized curses even in an foreign language when they were directed at him. His gaze was fixed on Natasha, who seemed to know the way. Though he was fit, he soon found it hard to keep up with her. She jumped down steps and over boxes as if she were an athlete on the course. His only consolation was that while Rhodey was also faster than him, he was nowhere near as nimble and agile as Nat.

Running across the tracks, Natasha led them to a train that had to be it. It had many wagons of different types. The engine was already running and two workers were standing next to it, looking wary at the approaching trio. Nat stopped at them and spoke to them in quick words. The men seemed unwilling to cooperate until she drew a gun from under her jacket. The workers raised their arms in the air defensively and one of them started walking when Nat gestured forward with her gun.

"That one is kind enough to open the doors for us."

That was easier said than done. Since they didn't know exactly which wagon Tony was in, they had to look in all of them. This time the engineer at least had the keys.

They were able to skip the first three wagons. They contained building material and had no doors, which could only be filled from above. After that came several wagons loaded with pallets of kids toys.

They had already exceeded the twelve minutes until departure. It was highly possible that the police had already been informed that some lunatics had hijacked a train. They could only hope they had enough time to find Tony before someone arrived who would not be intimidated by their guns.

Wagon number nine was empty at first glance. Stephen used his phone’s flashlight to get a better view. There was something on the floor back there. The doctor recognized a dark mop of hair. Immediately, he jumped onto the wagon.

"Tony!"

Tony was bound and unconscious, but breathing, Stephen was relieved to find as he put his fingers to his neck. Possibly drugged, considering the dilated pupils. His clothes were dirty and sweaty, and yet Stephen had never found the sight of him more beautiful, simply because Tony was here and alive.

Stephen tenderly stroked the hair from his face and gently patted his cheek. Tony was probably dehydrated – he looked pale and his face was sunken. Stephen made a mental note to set up a diet plan after the malnutrition Tony had certainly had for the past three weeks.

He turned to his bag to look for a water bottle, but Rhodey beat him to it. He was kneeling on Tony's other side, already holding the water out to Stephen. With a grateful nod, the doctor took it and wet Tony's lips with it. The man’s eyes fluttered and he started stirring.

"Tony," Stephen murmured to help him wake up. "We're here. You're safe."

"Stephen?..." His voice was rasp and his lips so dry that they had to hurt with every movement. Stephen was so happy to hear him that he could cry. "Am I dreaming? They hit me up with the good stuff this time."

Rhodey, meanwhile, was cutting Tony's cable ties with a knife. Not that Tony had the strength to move his numb hands and feet afterwards. "Shut up, we are rescuing you." Rhodey's face was nowhere near as mean as his words, and Tony twisted his mouth into a smile.

"Hmkay, sounds good..."

He slipped back into being unconscious. Stephen checked his pulse, which fortunately remained steady. Rhodey exchanged a look with him and relief was evident in both of their faces.

"Let's get him out of here."

They both tackled carrying Tony off the train. He was frighteningly light, and when they stepped out into the sun, Tony’s normally tanned skin appeared even paler. But that was fine. He would be fine. The important part was that they found him.

Stephens was so focused on his patient, his lover, that he didn't notice much of his surroundings. A car with a driver from Thor was waiting for them and took them back to the airport. Once in the plane Stephen hooked Tony directly onto an IV and used the time to examine him more closely. He was so lank that his ribs showed. His skin just a pale canvas for his tattoos. But except for the red marks on his wrists and ankles where he had been tied up, he had no external injuries. His abductors had probably knocked him out mostly with the drug. And that would hopefully dissipate quickly from his body with the added fluid from the IV.

Stephen took Tony's hand in his. He was dead on his feet. With the little sleep he had before the trip, the time difference, and the whole adventure in Norway, he was exhausted. Still, he stubbornly refused to leave Tony's side. He trusted Rhodey to handle everything else. That he would inform Pepper and arrange everything necessary for Tony's return.

Stephen's eyes fell so slowly that he didn't even notice. The last thing he saw was Tony, who was right where he belonged: with him.

––––––––––––––––––––––

We're slowly coming to the end of this story. There will be a few more chapters though.

Tag List: @hidden-treasures21

[chasingmidnights]

An Offshore Love - Part Three

Title: Rough Seas 

Summary: An incident happens on The Jupiter, putting everything on hold. 

Warnings: First, this is 18+, minors DNI! In this part warnings may include but not limited to: minor cursing; implied smut & groping; mentions of bad weather; mention of small explosions & fire; mentions of character injury; Ari Levinson (he’s a warning okay?); and I believe that’s it. I apologize if I missed anything but you are responsible for what you read and what you consume on the internet. I do not claim to be a professional writer, any and all mistakes are my own; nothing is beta read. 

Wordcount: 2,183

Five weeks flew by for you and Jake while being on the Jupiter. Through that time period, you got a good feeling on what you would like to change and see happen on the rig. Also during that time, you and Ari found any chance you could to be together, there were a lot of late nights. However, at the start of your sixth week, you woke up with a not so great feeling and you couldn’t shake it. The weather had been awful the last couple of days and the waves were unforgiving. Any training was put on hold and the men who worked on the lines that were located on the ocean floor weren’t permitted to dive and be in the water. As you climbed out of bed, you could already hear the wind howling and it caused a shiver to crawl down your spine. You yawned as you tiredly stumbled around the room and you did your best to be as quiet as possible as you got ready. However, a knock at the bedroom door spoiled that for you and Jake jolted awake. 

“I’m up, I’m up.” Jake said, still half asleep. 

You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit before you answered the door. Before you could say anything though, the crew member simply handed you an envelope and then walked away. You opened up the envelope and as you read it, you couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved as Mr. Bodecker had canceled all the meetings for today. Your thoughts immediately went to Ari and how you wanted to spend your day but you were more than likely sure that he still had to tend to his duties. You practically jumped out of your skin when Jake spoke from behind you, you hadn’t heard him get up. 

“What is it?” Jake asked with a yawn, thankfully not noticing you jump. 

“All meetings are canceled.” You answered as you walked back into the room to finish getting ready. 

A short while later, you and Jake had entered the cafeteria and the first thing you noticed was just how terrible the weather was raging outside through the giant window. You could hear just how hard the rain was coming down outside and you were thankful that you didn’t have to be out in it. From this point, you couldn’t see any waves but you could imagine just how fierce the waves were as they beat up against the sturdy, concrete leg. Another cold chill crawled down your spine and goosebumps formed all over your body as you continued to stare out the window, it was as if the weather was hypnotizing you. 

“Kind of incredible isn’t it, Rogue?” Ari whispered into your ear from behind you. 

“Very.” Is all you could manage to get out. Your main focus suddenly became the feeling of Ari’s warm breath that was now fanning over your ear and part of your neck, sending a different kind of tingle throughout your body. Thankfully, Jake wasn’t around and had already gotten in line for food, nobody needed to know or witness how this man made you weak. 

“Meet me later?” Ari requested, his lips now brushing against your ear. 

“Usual spot?” You inquired, it was crazy to you how you and Ari had a usual spot on this oil rig. 

A small yelp escaped you as Ari slid his hand between your bodies and gave your ass a squeeze. “You know it, sweetheart.” 

Oh how you couldn’t wait for later. 

You were on your way to meet Ari when you passed by an office, you stopped to listen as the men inside talked about the upcoming weather. 

“Geeze, it’s gonna be a rough week if this weather doesn’t subside.” One of the men said, groaning as he examined the monitors. 

“Better let Bodecker know.” Another man said. 

“Eh, let’s wait and see what happens. If it gets then we’ll tell him.” The first man said, brushing off the suggestion. 

You groaned internally, this whole crew didn’t have a care about what happened to this oil rig, except for maybe a few. 

A short while later though, any thought about the raging weather outside or anyone else on this rig disappeared as Ari took control over your mind, body, and hell, even your soul. You were in a state of euphoria and you felt like you were floating on the clouds. Your body had never felt such pleasure as Ari thrusted in and out of you. The room you and Ari occupied smelled of sex and sweat and to you, it was intoxicating. It was actually starting to become one of your favorite scents. You arched your back into Ari’s chest as Ari held onto you tightly, it was almost as if he didn’t want to let go or that he was afraid too. You didn’t mind though, you would gladly be his anchor. 

As the two of you were starting to reach the final climax, Ari lifted his head up and the look in his eyes sent chills all over your body and it almost pushed you over the edge. Sure there was lust and passion in them, but there was also something else that was swirling in his ocean blue eyes that you couldn’t quite place your finger on. Ari continued to hold onto you tightly, bringing you as close as possible before he crashed his lips into yours and kissed you with so much passion. As he kissed you, his hips started to move again, hard and powerful as they snapped into you. You were so close and when Ari started to kiss and suckle on your neck, it didn’t take long for the coil to snap. His release followed not too longer after yours and the pair of you just laid there on the floor as you slowly started to come back to reality. 

Your time together was cut short though as the rig started to shake from what sounded like an explosion. The two of you hopped up quickly as alarms started to go off. You glanced over at Ari and he was already half dressed and was already putting his shirt on. You hurriedly started to put your clothes back on as well, worry quickly filled your mind. You’ve never experienced anything like this before while on an oil rig. 

“Ari, what’s going on?” You asked, panic laced your voice as you buttoned up your shirt. 

“I think that’s the fire alarm, but I’m gonna find out what’s going on. Rogue, I want you to get somewhere safe, can you do that for me?” Ari requested as he turned to face you, grabbing ahold of your shoulders. 

“Of course, but you’ll find me once you’re able to, right?” You inquired as you searched his eyes for reassurance. 

Ari pulled you in for a kiss before he took off and was out of the room before you could properly respond. You left the room shortly after and did as Ari requested and found a safe place, you have never seen a rig in such chaos. Worry consumed your mind as you thought about Ari and anyone else who might be in danger as they tried to defuse this horrible situation. 

You waited anxiously inside the mess hall of The Hub, bouncing your leg as you sat at one of the tables and your stomach churned as you sat facing the doorway so that you could see Ari as soon as he walked into the mess hall. Once you had left the room that you and Ari had been in, you were pretty much ushered to the hall and told to stay put until further notice. The sirens were still blaring as you waited for any kind of update. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was the bad feeling that you had this morning when you woke up. Surely there had to be some kind of news, all you really knew was that lightning had struck the flare stack in just the right place multiple times, causing a small explosion and fire. 

“Here, it looks like you could use this.” Jake said as he offered you a cup. 

You let out a small sigh before you accepted the drink. Your hands were instantly warmed by the hot beverage within the cup. “Thank you, Jake.”

“So, who is it?” Jake asked with a knowing look as he sat down next to you. 

“What do you mean?” You asked him back, trying to act like you don’t know what he’s talking about; you could only hope it worked. 

Jake scoffed before he took a drink out of his cup. “Come on, you’ve had your eyes glued to the entrance of the mess hall and don’t get me started on all of the nights that you come back to the room at three or four in the morning. So, who is it?” 

You let out another sigh. “I promise, this doesn’t happen, like at all, in fact I even made a rule for no dating anyone while on the job. But there was something different about him.” 

Jake nodded his head as he listened to you. “It’s Levinson, isn’t it?” 

“How did you know?” You asked, a bit surprised that he had figured you out. 

“You guys aren’t exactly subtle, but don’t worry, I won’t say a thing.” Jake said with a playful smirk on the corner of his mouth. 

Before you could say anything, the rig shook again and a wave of uneasiness washed over you. Just then, Bodecker stomped into the room, his face was serious as he marched over to one of the supervisors. You waited with bated breath for them to finish talking and when they did, you immediately got up and jogged over to Lee as he was about to leave. 

“Mr. Bodecker, is there any update? What’s going on?” You asked quickly, your words rushed. 

Lee shook his head as he scratched the back of his neck. “Well, we got the fire put out, but one of the crew members got hurt in the process. Banged up his arm pretty badly.” 

Your eyes grew wide with concern. “Who was it?” 

A huff escaped Lee’s mouth, he was probably annoyed with you right now but you didn’t care, you needed to know who. 

“It was Ari Levinson.” Lee finally said as he met your eyes. 

Your stomach dropped when you heard Ari’s name come out of Lee’s mouth and you nearly fainted. No, it couldn’t be Ari, this was all some kind of cruel joke. Before you could even fully wrap your mind around what Lee told you, you took off running towards the direction of the infirmary. People called out to you to come back but you didn’t listen, you had to get to Ari. You felt like the energizer bunny as you ran through the corridors and you could feel the adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. When you finally got to the med bay, you frantically searched for Ari amongst a few others that had gotten injured. You sighed in relief when you finally found Ari in one of the medical beds and you placed a hand on your chests. He was alive and he was conscious. You slowly approached his bed and greeted him with a small smile. 

“Oh my god, your arm.” You said as you looked at Ari’s arm that was now in a temporary cast and sling. 

“That, it’s nothing. What are you doing here, Rogue?” Ari asked as he reached out his good hand towards you. “Not that I’m complaining.” 

You took Ari’s hand into yours as you looked at him. “I heard you had gotten hurt and I had to come see you.” 

“You’re too good for me, you know that?” Ari said as lifted your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

You gave him a small smile as he kissed your hand, you were filled with so many emotions at this moment. You were relieved that it wasn’t a more serious injury and that Ari was going to be alright, you’re not sure what you would’ve done if it had been worse. As you looked at Ari, you realized just how deep you had gotten yourself in and at just how much you’ve compromised your position here, but honestly you didn’t care. Right now, all you cared about was that Ari was going to be okay. So, you found yourself leaning down and pressing your lips against his, not caring that the room was filled with people. It seemed like Ari didn’t care either as he immediately returned the kiss and placed his good hand on your waist. When the two of you pulled his good apart, you rested your forehead against his and took a few deep breaths. You knew you were about to face your own personal rough seas by getting involved with a worker, but right now, rough seas or not, you wouldn’t change anything at all.

[thegayestofagendas]

I think i made a post listing what i was currently watching a few weeks ago and i wanna talk about 3%. A specific aspect of the show.

I'm on the first season still so keep that in mind.

I'm really enjoying it. I'm particularly enjoying Fernando. I'm not a wheelchair user, so obviously, my opinion is likely of less critical than it could be, but I love how his motivation is not in being able to walk again. I like how when he was faced with the actually possibility that if he gets through he could be treated and be able to walk it made him think about if that was really what he wanted. I like that when he was in the group test with the dinner mystery and learned that blind ppl are on the offshore he came to think that disability was not a barrier to accessing it, that he didn't need fixing. And from there I was also so very sad about the way his dad couldn't see that.

I also like how he is shown moving himself out of his wheelchair. I like that they didn't make him much different than any other 20 year old you'd encounter. There's a habit in a lot of fiction to make disabled ppl ultra-matured sexless characters, 3% didn't do that. Fernando is a 20 year old with all that included. He gets angry, he gets frustrated, he gets sad, he gets horny, he's in love, he's in conflict. He's a full character.

And it's so silly how refreshing it is to see that. Representation has been so cookie cutter and soaked in prejudice and stereotypes for so long. But it feels very hopeful to finally see a disabled character who feels real.