Hey loves ❤️ I'm officially moving this blog to a new one after much consideration and putting enough thought into it. I believe I need a fresh new start with new aesthetic and things, so I'll be following my current partners and mutuals I've been having threads and interacting with, so I'll be keeping my threads with them.

For those that would like to write with me and we haven't written yet or plotted, please send me a DM. I'll be more exclusive in this new blog and more selective with who I follow. Much love ❤️

Christina Hendricks / photo by Patrick Fraser.

Christina Hendricks

Hearing him confess he wanted them to break the tension sooner made her match his smirk. Her fingers playfully tugged at his belt before she undid it and reached for the zipper of his pants, a hand moving to trace her digits along his scars. "A secret that I'll treat like a treasure, handsome." She whispered between kisses, only wishing to be around him constantly to feel him against her like she was now. Daphne's lips eagerly pressed against his with passion, craving them desperately as low muffled moans left her.

As he pulled her shirt over her head, she felt the cold air reach her exposed torso, which sent shivers down her spine. Daphne's soft rounded mounds were concealed beneath her black bra, yet it left little to the imagination given the size and the cleavage that was shown. Her gaze met his briefly before they kissed each other again, her hands pushing his pants down along with his belt and boxers, both her hands slowly running down to then brush his length at first with her palms. "Mmm.. Someone's pretty happy. " She chuckled against his lips before curling her slim fingers around his shaft, running them up and down his flesh.

faithdevotion​:

His stubble tickled her skin and his hands felt warm against her back. She melted under his touch and his passionate response to her kisses, a small moan slipping from her as her front pressed against his own, her hands running down to undo the buttons of his shirt. Daphne chuckled against his lips at his tease, playfully biting his lower lip. “You think?” She let out in a purr, palms caressing every inch of skin they found upon exposing his chest. She was dazed from desire and it was difficult to make her stop at this point.

However, her lips slowly pulled back from his, the reminder that she was a detective kicked in. Her nails traced his skin lightly as her hands went down to his trousers to run her digits along his belt. “We’ll have to keep this a secret. As much as I hate to do that.” She whispered, her ocean hues meeting his. Daphne hated the fact of hiding to be with someone, but there was a great risk if the two were caught. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be with you often.” A playful smirk spread across her lips, her lips meeting his once more.

The muffled moan of hers overlapped with his, but he was still able to feel the rumbling of it against him. Even though his lips were busy, a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of them when she started undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Honestly? I also could’ve done it sooner,” he wanted to do this sooner. Xander licked his bottom lip following the playful lip bite and seeing her caressing his chest. He only took his hands off of her to fully remove the button up and tossed it aside; revealing his muscular body which was decorated with a few scars; the largest one being the burn scar his time in the army left on him.

When she pulled back, for a moment he thought she was reconsidering this, but then her fingers were on his belt and a grin spread across his features. “That’s okay. I find it sexy to be called your little secret,” though… if they were planning on doing this formally down the line, he would like to be able to go out with her freely and he was hoping she wanted so too. “Often, hm? That’s good, ‘cause I’ll be around very often.” The assassin kissed her back as his hands slowly slipped under her shirt, caressing her lower back for a moment then pulling said shirt over her shoulders, successfully discarding it. “Now we’re even,” then he looked at her bra and smirk, “well, kinda…” A chuckle came after then he kissed her lips again while his strong hands slipped under her pants and groped her buttcheeks.  

"It's what you are. A criminal and a murderer. I don't think I'm in the wrong." Her jaw clenched as she heard him after while her fingers began undoing the ties, successfully finding a way to get them loose. A small sigh of relief left her, but she had to be quick. Her gaze quickly wandered all over, searching for any possible exit out of the warehouse. She couldn't see one, which meant she first had to take him down and then find her phone to have a backup sent at the location. His smirk made her throw a glare at him, and as soon as he got up and mentioned his intentions on leaving. She sped up the process of releasing her wrists, and as soon as she felt them free, a chuckle pushed forth from her lips.

"You're not going anywhere, Knight." And with those words, Daphne lifted herself up from the chair and took steps forward in a quick fashion, turning on her spot and lifting her leg up to attempt to throw a kick towards him to incapacitate him.

Alexander rolled his eyes, exasperated. He was already planning on leaving the Detective there, tied up and then give a clue to her coworkers of where he'd be waiting for them, but part of him wanted this to work out. He wanted her to drop his case because this wasn't her place. He could see she was a good one. That she was trying to do her job, but he wasn't really the one she should be searching for. "It makes me feel weird when you call me a murderer," he shivered and made a face, even when she was right to be calling him that way. "I can't give you details on who hires me because they all use fake names, Detective. They're important, why would they give their identity to someone like me?"

Rubbing his face, he sighed then just stared at her. He couldn't say he had encountered many detectives before but she was definitely leaving an impression on him. "I'd be a delight to work with, you're missing out." He said with a smirk then stood up to get his equipment ready since he had to leave in a few minutes. "To me, it seems that you were the only tracking me down, your coworkers should've been here hours ago. But don't worry, I'll make sure to send them a text from your phone with your location as soon as I leave."

Kaya stopped pacing around the room, wiping the tears away from underneath her eyes with her index finger after hearing Serkan's words. She took a couple of steps towards him, enough to leave an inch of distance between them and be able to lift her head up to meet his gaze. The same gaze that brought her a sense of peace and safety in the past and was doing so now, added with his voice that tried to convince her of Ahmet's cruelty. It was a struggle. She had been used to it. She believed she loved him as well, but with Serkan before her she was now conflicted. "What am I supposed to do, Serkan?" Her voice low, almost like a whisper, spoke as soon as he finished his sentence.

Ahmet had no limits. Despite not loving her, he wanted someone beautiful, from a good family, yet vulnerable by his side, which stirred his jealousy and possessiveness over her. It was all about reputation and keeping appearances. "He's my fiancé. You can't possibly know him better than I do. Besides... the invitations have been sent. The preparations are underway... I..." Kaya trailed off, feeling as if she had no escape from her fiancé. "He will search for me as soon as he realizes I'm not there. Isn't that love as well?"

Serkan had seen something similar before. The denial, the reasoning for what someone had done. In one of his foster homes, his foster mother was being abused by his foster father. She was a lovely woman, and whenever asked about why he did what he did, she would protect him. Serkan understood that sometimes it was harder to leave. "Kaya..." Hearing her keep defending him was hard, but Serkan kept a level head despite the anger that was brewing within him.

In his line of work, he saw the cruelty of people. Drug dealers, arms dealers, the sort. Everyone had a cruel side, even him. But there were people who didn't bother to hide it, who took it out on the people who wanted to help them and to love them. "He shouldn't be throwing tantrums, or harming you, Kaya. The man doesn't love you." Serkan said again. "He makes you think he does, but he doesn't. You need to listen to me. The man doesn't love anyone but his money."

Sorry for not being around here, loves. Aside from me being busy, I'm just not feeling motivated to write except to reply to only a few threads. I want plots and things but... oh well x.x

With how complex the assassin was, it was difficult to imagine that he was a devotee of the simplest things, such as contemplating nature while being a passenger inside one of the best trains in Europe. His body was leaned forward against the table before him, the novel 'Midnight Express' laying on it next to a cup of coffee he ordered: black, with no sugar and no milk. The book opened from side to side, since he had been reading it since he stepped into the train. Perfect for triggering psychoactivity after sleepless nights. His eyes admired the landscape from his seat, a sense of gratitude filling him for the mere fact the window was large enough to be able to see the Swiss Alps from a distance as the train was getting closer to them. He was there for a task, of course. A task that was important and not simple, but would prove to be beneficial. The objective, for now, was to find the exact location of Sorensen's playground.

His gaze left the view to return to the line of the book that he was reading, no sound or chattering from the people in the train disturbing or distracting him, until he heard a familiar accent from his homeland. His eyes dart towards the woman that was sitting on the opposite side, taking some seconds to study her. He wouldn't be so friendly or open with approaching her, but she certainly caught his attention, given that he hadn't met someone from his homeland in years. It was refreshing, a good feeling. But nonetheless, this woman couldn't be trusted. Fingers reached for the book to flip it shut, leaning his back against the seat. His head turned towards the window, a dry chuckle slipping from his throat. "Det ville ikke skade at drikke noget af det acceptable stof i denne verden. En af mange." [It wouldn't hurt to drink some of the acceptable drug in this world. One of many.] His tone is raised enough for her to hear as he kept a serious expression.

Closed Starter

Nietzsche said 'That which does not kill us makes us stronger.' The idea that beyond struggle, we become better and stronger. The amount of times Klara had heard the German philosopher being quoted by her father was enough for her to become sick of it. But in times like these, Klara found herself repeating him. She just needed to be strong in this moment, to get it done and leave everything behind. The train for the Swiss Alps was about a three hour drive, which left Klara enough time to think. She knew the codes, the script, the numbers. Everything. It was her father's last wish to not let his research fall into the hands of the government or anyone else.

Klara pressed her hand against her forehead. At least when she went to the hideout, she could find some peace. "Kaffe?" A waitress asked, Klara could not stop herself from jumping slightly in her seat. "Nein. Danke." Klara politely declined. She was paranoid. For the last month, Klara had the feeling she was being watched. Someone was behind her, above her, left, right. Everywhere. Klara sighed, composing herself. She was going to fulfill her father's wish and lock away the research, even if it killed her. // @faithdevotion

Blood pools formed beneath the lifeless bodies of the Targaryen family spreading all over the hallway on the second floor of the mansion. The gun was still being pointed at one of them, despite long seconds since the bullet was fired. A sense of pride filled Vincent over his latest mission that was another assignment completed. Few things he'd heard of the family, but out of those were his interest in taking the weapons they were keeping like relics when they were meant to be used for better purposes. After all, he couldn't care any less about them being known jerks when they were all just pieces of meat. His gun lowered to his side, staring at the bodies and then suddenly finding himself puzzled over hearing footsteps. His head turned towards the source of the sounds, his gun being pointed at the person that was now standing meters away from him, emerging from one of the rooms. A woman. His gaze widened, out of shock, that was, since he didn't expect for a family member to be remaining alive. Yet, this particular woman had a different gaze on her, different from the family members. He quickly assumed she was a part of them, given that she hadn't been seen until he killed them.

"Identify yourself." His gruff, deep voice spoke, his grip tight on his gun. He was giving himself an idea of who she was, yet he preferred to hear it from her own lips. Would he shoot her? No, not really. Unless she posed a threat. But then again, the man was good at reading people, and she seemed pretty harmless. "Make it quick." @therogueprincedaemon

a hum slipped from sebastian's throat, a brow quirking at her. "you weren't sorry for it when it happened." he was quick to point that out when they both enjoyed their little makeout session a few nights ago. he was curious about why she showed regret over it now. "what, are you afraid of me, muñeca? [doll]"

@faithdevotion​​

“we never should’ve kissed—that was our first mistake.” / @faithdevotion

"a firefighter..." she quoted him through mumbles released while a wide grin spread across her lips. the muscles of her face were aching at this point from smiling constantly during the night, aside from the laughter and giggles that erupted during specific hours. "well, pretty sure you'd have done a great job at it. sometimes life does have other things in store for us, doesn't it?" she took another long sip from the drink he'd made for her, small throbs already beginning to sting in the back of her head due to intoxication. she ignored them, despite feeling them. "you have a lovely accent, I must say that." it was unique for her and she suddenly felt the need to mention it, "well, I know your occupation... but now I want you to guess where I work. let's see if you guess correctly." she felt playful as ever, and she was joined by a dashing man, after all.

@faithdevotion​

♦️

the amount of alcohol polly consumed wasn’t lost on emir. she came to him pretty intoxicated and the drink he made for her wasn’t helping her towards sobering up. but it was safe to assume that drink was the last one she was going to get out of him for the night, in terms of experimenting. the next one would be a bottle of water. he didn’t know polly enough to know how she reacted when heavily intoxicated, and he wanted to avoid a disaster. why he wanted to have her best interests at heart, he didn’t know. “i don’t really know.” nobody asked him that before, and he had no reason to think about it, really. now faced with the question, he didn’t have a pertinent answer. “once upon a time i dreamed of being a firefighter, but my family decided it would be a good idea to reallocate here and let’s say it took a very long time for things to finally fall into place.”

oh, lyra was hell on heels when she was consummated by anger. she wasn't pleased with seeing her fiancé being alone with one of his students. she did fail to see she overemphasized some things due to her possessive nature, though. manicured fingers brushed some strands of her honey-coloured hair away from her face before her arms fell on her sides, a hand being placed on her hips. "what am I supposed to hear, stephen?'" she snapped a second after he finished talking, her gaze narrowed into a glare and the words leaving her mouth as if she was throwing fire. "You've got bigger fishes to fry rather than attempting to seduce a fucking child! Rain or shine, you're on thin ice. I warn you, you won't make a fool out of me." Her index finger pointed at him as she finished her sentence, dropping her purse on the nearby table to cross her arms over her chest.

“can you stop and listen to me for a second? just listen.. - for one second.’‘ / @faithdevotion​

Elizabeth Hurley

Requested: Edits of Elizabeth Hurley in the 90s

When bad things happen, it’s the time when you get to work in the garden and sort out the pots from the weeds.

@not-museing-around

Ana de Armas & Oscar Isaac Manip

There were second thoughts about returning to Miami when Miles was being a gracious host and most of all, how they felt comfortable around each other when they were only seeing each other for the second time. Polly was planning to dial her boss' number and ask him for more days if it meant spending them with Miles, although she was unsure if that's what he wanted when he had a job of his own. She'd have to find that out once they start chatting. It was hard to stop smiling around him, his own lightened features being so infectious. Polly noticed their closeness, her palm reaching up to rub the side of her neck. "I don't have a preference. Something you're good at cooking or something that you love. I'm sure you're good at many things, though, Miles." Yes. She was flirting at this point. Unconsciously.

There was probably a little more work he needed to get done, a signature at least but Miles just couldn't focus. Polly was the best kind of distraction. "I think that sounds like a great idea." A little more quiet of a setting would make for an ease of privacy. That way they could just talk and get to know each other. And honestly that sounded like exactly the kind of night he wanted. "Now, let's see.. What would you want to eat? Whatever you want, you name it." Miles stood from his stool, closer to her than he meant to. He looked down at Polly, a small smile gracing his features under his beard.

His stubble tickled her skin and his hands felt warm against her back. She melted under his touch and his passionate response to her kisses, a small moan slipping from her as her front pressed against his own, her hands running down to undo the buttons of his shirt. Daphne chuckled against his lips at his tease, playfully biting his lower lip. "You think?" She let out in a purr, palms caressing every inch of skin they found upon exposing his chest. She was dazed from desire and it was difficult to make her stop at this point.

However, her lips slowly pulled back from his, the reminder that she was a detective kicked in. Her nails traced his skin lightly as her hands went down to his trousers to run her digits along his belt. "We'll have to keep this a secret. As much as I hate to do that." She whispered, her ocean hues meeting his. Daphne hated the fact of hiding to be with someone, but there was a great risk if the two were caught. "That doesn't mean I won't be with you often." A playful smirk spread across her lips, her lips meeting his once more.

faithdevotion​:

If someone had told her that she’d experience a weakness for the man that she was after weeks back, Daphne would have laughed at their faces. However, her disgust towards him over his occupation changed the moment his actions didn’t fit with one of an assassin’s. At least towards the detective. The moment the bullet got to her, Xander was there, which made her change her perspective on him and see him with a different gaze. Now, it had grown to something intense that Daphne could barely keep in any longer. As his thumb danced across her lower lip, she felt a tingling sensation spread underneath her skin, and her heartbeats increased their pace. Her gaze locked with his. “Why tell when I can show it?” She matched his tone of voice as she took another step to seal their distance, and she leaned forward to press her lips against his, her hands snaking up to rest against the nape of his neck. Her kiss was soft yet eager, and her tongue wasted no time to push against his lips and search his own.

It had taken it a bit for Xander to make Daphne see that he wasn’t a threat to everyone, only to those he was given files on. And after he took care of her following the bullet wound, he knew there was no turning back. Part of him worried about the trouble she could get into if her coworkers or the wrong people found out about how close they had and could become.But the stronger part of him wanted him to pursue this, because it didn’t feel wrong. 

Then her lips were on his and his hands instinctively found their place on her waist. The intensity behind it was soft, but Xander increased it within moments, turning the kiss into something hungrier as his tongue found hers and a muffled groan escaped him against her lips. His strong, rough hands spread on her upper and lower back and brought her closer to his body. “Took you long enough,” he teased before kissing her again with the same passion as before.