#I could look at this for hours (likes/aesthetics)

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour is Upon Us

In which Max decides that maybe doing interviews isn't such a bad thing.

Warnings: jos verstappen mention ew Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.5k plus social media posts

TheYappingHour posted:

349,219 likes liked by redbullracing, charlesleclerc, and others TheYappingHour Back at it this week with a very super top secret special guest. I simply can't wait to reveal who's on this weeks pod, you guys! You're going to DIE. (peep the clue in the second picture!) user928 her podcast set up is so aesthetic i can't user0928 RED BULL??? what does this meeeeeean??? >>>user1211 she hasn't done a ton of athletes in the past, maybe she got one of the Red Bull athletes!! user00291 DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN. (shhh let me be delulu for a minute) >>>user221 as much as i'd love that, we all know how much Max hates interviews.

There was absolutely no reason why having Max Verstappen on your podcast should be making you this nervous. You’ve interviewed actual heads of state, a former president, and royalty for crying out loud and you’re losing your mind over Max fucking Verstappen? You supposed it came from the fact that you had spent most of your childhood traveling from track to track to watch your dad race in NASCAR, racing was in your blood and you knew how revered and idolized Max was. And how rabid his fans could get. You wanted to get this interview right. Needed to get this interview right. Motorsport were still a huge part of your life, even if you weren’t really outwardly an active fan. You never missed a NASCAR or F1 race and while you considered yourself a Ferrari girlie, Red Bull was most certainly your second team. 

“Everything ready?” Your assistant Shannon pokes her head in as you fluff the last throw pillow on the cream colored lounge chair. Scanning the room, everything looks to be in order. The two overstuffed chairs dominate the center of the small recording studio, each with a microphone set up on a small side table next to each chair. Instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs floated out of small speakers tucked away and a few candles burned in the low light of the studio, creating the exact ambiance you were famous for. 

You’d been doing your podcast, The Yapping Hour, for nearly five years now and it was now one of the most popular podcasts being produced. You specialized in relaxed interviews of people that the general public don’t get to see relaxed very often. Your big break had come about 3 years ago when you had somehow managed to land an interview with Michelle Obama, her episode was still the most streamed episode of yours to date. Everyone had fallen in love with your interview style, how you got these normally highly media trained individuals to drop their guard down a little and be real for even just an hour. It gave people such a unique glimpse behind the curtain of fame and your fans ate up every bit of it. 

“I think so!” You nod, smoothing down the front of your boyfriend cut jeans even though the denim is perfectly ironed without a single wrinkle. 

“Good, because he just pulled in the parking lot.” Shannon smirks. She knows how nervous you are for this interview and is insisting it’s because you have a crush on the driver. Which would utterly unprofessional if it were true. But it wasn’t true. At all. “And he’s driving this matte black Aston Martin.” She closes her eyes as she bites her lip, smirk growing even wider. 

“Okay, let’s cool it on the hero worship.” You warn, following Shannon out into the lobby of the building. 

 Outside, it’s a dreary late April morning in the heart of downtown London. You had traveled from your home base in New York City just for this interview but had been surprised at how much you liked the ambiance and energy in the city. So much so that you had extended your stay a few extra weeks. The good thing about being your own boss of a podcast was that you could literally work from anywhere you had your laptop. 

Peering out into the parking lot, you’re surprised to see a lone figure in jeans and what looked to be a Red Bull windbreaker, hustling across the pavement towards the door. When he approaches the door, Shannons steps forward to open the door, a gust of wind whipping at your hair when Max comes bustling in through the doors. 

“Hello!” Max’s voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, a feeling you fight hard to shove down. This is not the time to be a fan girl, you remind yourself. 

“Hi Max, thank you so much for joining us today! Can I get you some water or maybe some tea?” Shannons steps forward first, extending her hand. 

Max takes it and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Water is fine, thanks.” 

“Max, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” You step forward then, the heels of your black Louboutain’s clicking on the hardwood floor as you approach him. It takes every ounce of focus you have not to react at what feels like a white hot spark flickering over your skin when his hand touches yours for the first time. 

“Pleasure is mine.” He murmurs, cat like smirk replacing the warm smile that had greeted Shannon. Your social media did you absolutely no justice and Max was finding it hard to keep his composure you were so pretty. 

“Are we waiting on anyone else or is it just you today?” You ask, eyes darting above his shoulder to see if there was anyone still in the parking lot. 

“Why? Will I be needing my body guard today?” He quips as he follows you towards the recording studio.  

You pray the dim lights in the studio hide the way you’ve gone pink. “Of course not! It’s just that normally the people I have on the show travel with an…entourage.” 

“I don’t like people.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious fact in the universe. “I prefer to travel solo. Besides, I’m no Queen of the Netherlands or Justin Trudeau, I don’t really need an entourage.” 

He casually drops two of your biggest interviews like it’s nothing and you feel the pink tinge of your cheeks heat to a crimson red. “You’ve listened to the show then?” 

He nods, taking the seat you offer him as Shannon and your AV guy Steve bustle around getting things set up. A bottle of water appears for each of you and you take out the pages of notes you’ve made even though you’ve got all the questions memorized. You like to be prepared and prefer your interviews to be more conversational, less question and answer. 

“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” His eyes hold this glint of mischief that if you were less of a professional, would have you biting your lip and kicking your feet. Truth was, Max had spent an ungodly amount of time on your socials and wikipedia page, obsessing over you and your career. 

“And yet you still came.” You tease.

“I did.” He says simply and you can’t help but notice how his gaze briefly drops from your eyes down to your lips and quickly back up. It’s so quick that if you weren’t in the business of watching and observing people, you probably would have missed it. But those baby blue eyes of Max’s are so easy to read, all you can do is grin back at him. 

“Well, thank you for making the trek into London today. I do appreciate it.” 

You briefly explain how the interview is going to work, how Steve is going to make sure everything is set up and recording, how you’ll post audio and video versions and that he can have final say in anything that goes in or stays out of the interview. You’ve found that a lot of your guests appreciate that little clause and in the five years you’ve been doing the show only a handful of bits have been kept out. You like to think it’s because you’re good at what you do and get people to open up on a level that they feel comfortable with. 

Steve finally gives you the okay and you settle into the cozy lounge chair, Max sitting comfortably in the one opposite you. 

“Thank you again for joining me today, Max. I’ve got to admit, I was a little surprised when your manager said you’d agreed to come on the show. You don’t do a lot of lengthy interviews and I could only find a handful of podcast appearances over the years. So, why The Yapping Hour? Why now?” 

Max takes a sip of water before placing it on the table beside him. His shoulders are relaxed, his ankle sitting on his knee is a causal pose. You’ve become a veritable body language expert since starting the show and you can already tell this is going to be a good interview. 

“I like your style.” His blunt answer throws you off for a moment and your cheeks heat. Again. You make a mental note to make sure they edit your complexion in post production to take the blush out. “GP sent me the one you did with Dale Earnhardt Jr a few months ago and I was impressed at how authentic you were. Dale is a character but you got a lot of depth out of him. Your questions went beyond the typical ‘what’s your favorite race track.’” 

“Well, thank you. That is quite the compliment coming from you.” For the third time in a short time, you blush at the compliments this man is handing out left and right. 

Your eyes flicker above Max’s shoulder to where Shannon and Steve sit, their smug faces tell you that you’re not imagining him flirting with you. 

“I have to tell you, I went karting with a few friends in prep for this interview and oh my God, I’ve been sore ever since! I can't imagine how hard an F1 car is on your body. Talk to me a little bit about your training sch-…”

“You went karting as research?” He interrupts you, face a mask of disbelief. 

Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Of course, I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You toss him a wink and enjoy the way your stomach flips when his ears go a bit pink. “My dad beat me by almost 20 seconds and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it, but it was worth it. I can see why so many people get hooked, it was so fun.” 

“Karting with a NASCAR legend had to make it a little better though, yeah?” 

“You know my dad?” Your brows nearly hit your hairline, you’re so surprised at this. Your dad had been long retired before Max had come onto the racing scene and there wasn’t a huge overlap in fan bases between F1 and NASCAR. 

Max nods, “He was racing around the time Jos was in F1. I still remember that one Daytona 500 where he stole the win from Earnhardt Jr on the last lap after he’d led for the entire race.” 

You tilt your head back laughing and Max thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard, fully entranced by the long column of your neck that’s suddenly exposed. “Oh God, dad is going to die when he hears you know about that race.” 

“Have either of you been to an F1 race yet?” A plan begins to form in Max’s head. 

“No!" You lean forward to swat at his arm playfullt. I’ve tried a few times but it’s always fallen through. I do watch most of the races though, as long as my schedule permits. Sometimes it’s easier when you guys are in Europe because the races are so early in New York, it’s easy to watch them from bed on Sunday mornings.”

The image of you wrapped up in a fluffy duvet wearing nothing but his t-shirt as you watch him race nearly sends Max into orbit. He blinks furiously, trying to get that vision out of his mind so he can pay attention to you. 

“Tell me this then, if you could pick any garage to watch the race which one would it be and why would it be Red Bull?" 

You can’t help that laugh that explodes from you then and Max preens under your attention, smile stretching wide across his handsome face. “You know, I could have sworn it was my name on the podcast Instagram page.” You tease, giving him a wink. “You keep asking me questions, I’m going to be out of a job, Verstappen.” 

“I can’t help it when the interviewer is much more interesting than I am.” He murmurs, taking another sip of water without taking his eyes off of you.

The rest of the interview continues on for the next two hours and you get so much content you feel a little dizzy at the thought of having to cut over half of the episode. For the first time in the podcast’s history, you may have to split this into two episodes. Max doesn’t mind one bit, finding that he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be with how easy he finds it talking to you. 

You wrap up the interview over an hour past the time you had told Max’s press officer it would last but neither of you make any movement to get up, despite both Shannon and Steve beginning to wrap things up. 

“I’m so sorry I kept you this long, Max. I know you’re not a huge fan of lengthy interviews.” 

Max just shrugs, “If all interviews were like this, I probably would say yes to a lot more of them.” 

You grin over at him as you rise, realizing the sun is setting outside and your stomach is aching for food. Max follows suit, although he feels a clench in his stomach realizing that his time with you is coming to an end. 

“Can I ask you something?” He says when Shannon and Steve walk out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone. 

You look up at him and nod earnestly, “Of course!” 

“Why didn’t you ask me about my childhood? Usually it’s one of the first things people ask me, especially in these kinds of interviews.” 

You shrug, face heating at being found out. “Like you, I do my research and I figured you might not want to talk about that part of your life. I want my guests to feel comfortable when they come on the show, not immediately put on the defensive. I guess I thought there were other more important topics…” 

Your words hang in the air, heavy between you two. Something in Max’s chest aches at the simple kindness you’ve extended him. It’s true, he doesn’t like revisiting his childhood very often, especially when it’s recorded and will be put on the internet. His dad was very much still in his life, obviously, and while he had done a lot of work to move past his childhood, it was still painful to talk about.  

“Thats…wow. Thank you.” Is all he can manage, voice thick with emotion. 

“Of course.” You murmur, reaching out to touch his elbow in what you hope comes across as a comforting gesture. 

Max’s eyes drop to where your slender fingers rest on his bare arm before a smile stretches back across his face. “I know it’s kind of last minute but you were saying earlier you’d never been to a race. We’re in Miami next weekend and I’d love it if you were my guest…” 

You can’t help the flutter in your chest at how nervous he appears standing before you. Your eyes dart over to Shannon, the official keeper of your schedule and are delighted when she nods vigorously, phone in hand with your calendar already pulled up. You made a mental note to give that girl a raise ASAP. “I would love to, Max.” 

“Yeah?” He sounds almost shocked that you had agreed so quickly. 

“Yeah.” You say, a hint of a giggle at the edge of your voice. 

“How about I take you out to dinner tonight and we can work out the details.” 

“Why Max Verstappen, I had no idea you were this smooth.” 

TheYappingHour posted

987,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, susiewolff, and others TheYappingHour SURPRISE! Part one of my interview with none other than 3 time F1 world champion Max Verstappen is live on all socials RIGHT NOW. (yeah, I said part 1! We both yapped so much you're getting a part two next week!) user9382 the chemistry between these two was OFF THE CHARTS >>>user111 ikr? i felt like i was interrupting something the entire hour. MaxVerstappen1 it was a pleasure meeting you! can't wait to see you in Miami this weekend! >>>user2999 MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HER IN MIAMI. >>>user999 stfu she is so coming to the Miami race?? MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN. user3210 has she ever done a two parter before??? not even the Queen of the Netherlands got a two parter!! user9928 i don't think i've ever seen Max this relaxed during an interview EVER. >>>user222 seriously! He was like a little boy with a crush then entire time.

yourpersonalinsta posted

234,100 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, michelle obama, and others yourpersonalinsta we yapped some more and stuffed our faces. til next time, maxie! (tagged: maxverstappen1) user999 not michelle obama herself in the likes maxverstappen1 you're going to be trouble in miami, aren't you? >>>yourpersonalinsta what do you think? ;) >>>user9932 oh my godddddd user028 this is the couple i didn't know i needed

tag list (some of you only requested to be on a series tag list but i am not organized enough for that. lmk if you want to be removed!! also fingers crossed this tag list works this time ffs. sorry!)

@anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream

[beckyninja]

Worthy

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warning: things get spicy, though nothing explicit

Description: The reader struggles with insecurity and low self esteem, while Guilliman struggles with... other things.

Oh boy, this is definitely the spiciest thing I've ever written. Be gentle, please!

“Roboute, ah….”

You reached up to him from your place sprawled atop his desk. Data slates and parchment scattered in every direction as you writhed. A sensual dance, just for him.

 He realized he’d never truly appreciated the aesthetic beauty of the female form before now. Starlight and candlelight competed to see which could add the loveliest glow to your skin. Your bare skin, on display for all to see.

No. Not all. Just him. No one else would ever see you this way. He’d slaughter anyone who-

“Roboute?”

Guilliman blinked and the fantasy faded.

You sat in a plush chair he’d recently placed in his office, legs tucked up beneath you, a book in your hands. The very picture of innocence.

Guilt gnawed at him.

“Yes, my dear?”

“I’ve finished this one.” You tapped the book’s cover. “With your permission, I’d like to return to the library- pardon, the librarium, for another.”

He smiled. “You grow more fluent in High Gothic by the day.” 

You glanced away. “I shudder to think how I must have sounded when I first arrived. It’s difficult to master pronunciation when one has only ever read the words.”

He returned to the parchment before him, signing his name for the two-hundred-and-thirty-second time that morning. “Nonsense. Your accent was, and is, utterly charming.” 

Especially when you cry my name as I suck bruises into your delicate- by the Throne! Get a hold of yourself, man!

“You’re kind to say so.”

Something in your tone gave him pause. He straightened, observing you more intently. The muscles around your mouth tightened, turning your smile wooden. Your shoulders hunched and you gazed at the floor. He realized you resembled nothing less than a serf expecting a scolding.

But before he could comment your mood shifted once again, and you looked as relaxed and happy as before. “As I was asking, may I return to the librarium?”

“Of course. And you need not constantly ask my permission. I have given instructions for that particular librarium to be open to your access code at all hours.”

Your delighted gasp made his hearts glow. 

“Thank you, Roboute! I’ve only just finished the first volume of Epatheon’s Chronicles of Macragge and the historitors suggested I read all six before moving on to the history of wider Ultramar….” 

Guilliman’s worries faded as he absorbed your chatter. A passing cloud, nothing more. He braced himself to return to the lonely monotony of Imperial paperwork when a particularly excited gesture sent your book tumbling to the floor.

“Oh, my apologies!”

Then you bent… over….

And he was suddenly profoundly grateful to be safely concealed behind his massive desk.

Throne, damn it.

***

“Thank you, Lord Tarchus.” You smiled up at the Ultramarine assigned to escort you that day, praying you’d gotten his name right.

The helmeted head inclined slightly in response. 

As you started toward one of the only other areas you felt familiar with on this massive ship, he fell into step behind you.

You thought you’d successfully banished the looming sense of dread. But, for the second time that day, tension tightened a leaden fist around your stomach. You kept your gaze focused straight ahead, not daring to meet the eyes of the people you passed. A diplomat’s mask came in useful at times like these.

But it could not shield you from your own thoughts.

“What presumption to think you deserve this kind of attention, girl.” Grandmother’s voice pierced your defenses. “How full of justified resentment this warrior must be for wasting his time on you. Who do you think you are?”

Your heart raced as you walked faster. You needed to get your book, then get out of these halls and back where you belonged. Tucked quietly into a corner of Roboute’s office where you’d be no bother to anyone. 

Where you’d be with him. With his gentle eyes and strong hands. Hands that felt so good when they pressed you to a massive chest rippling with muscle to put the gods of antiquity to shame. You’d felt them through his tunic on the night he kissed you breathless. When his touch sent molten liquid boiling straight between your-

A gauntleted hand landed on your shoulder. “This door… my lady.”

“Oh!” Heat rushed to your face as you realized you’d walked straight past the librarium entrance. “Y-yes. Thank you. I won’t be long.”

Your shoulders sank as you entered your code and stepped into the room. What right had you to think such thoughts? Roboute hadn’t so much as touched you since carrying you to your room after the… incident. He’d been polite, chivalrous, and honorable. He spoke to you like a dear friend. You should be more than satisfied. 

But you remembered hunger in his eyes the night he proposed. Was it selfish of you to want just a glimpse of that again? 

Grandmother’s laugh, half mocking half disgusted, echoed in your ears.

“Pathetic child. The man finally came to his senses and realized the truth: you’re simply not worth the effort.”

***

A million things should have occupied the Lord Regent’s mind. Mountains of paperwork, endless strategies to compile, not to mention the meeting with Calgar and the Ultramarine Captains in an hour’s time. He’d thought having you near would help him focus. 

A foolish assumption.

Your face greeted him as you emerged from your quarters each morning. You took your meals with him, spent most of your waking hours reading in the chair he’d provided for you. And during his few free moments, or when the paperwork in front of him required less than his full attention, the two of you conversed.

He told you much of Ultramar and Macragge, his home. He recounted stories of his childhood and parents that he hadn’t had the heart to dwell upon since his reawakening. Bittersweet memories, but made more sweet by your sympathetic ear.

The sheer relief of talking to an outsider did more to brighten the shadows of despair encompassing him than anything else in the past decade. Your mind was bright and pure, unshackled by superstition or callous cruelty. Your hands unstained by blood. You did not fear asking questions, nor did he fear telling you the truth. Every moment spent in your presence was a gift….

…and a torment.

Guilliman knew he’d been staring at your empty chair for minutes now. Breathing deeply, he tasted your scent upon the air, and he knew if he approached he’d be able to feel your warmth on the fabric. 

He’d felt your warmth before, and regretted it. Because now he knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what you tasted like.

Throne, I ache for her.

Lust had never been a factor in his life. His accelerated maturity had bypassed the riotous desire of the average adolescent, nor had his brothers ever expressed experiencing such. 

Well, Russ perhaps.

He scowled. He was no slobbering Space Wolf. And yet.

You gasped when he took you in his arms. He heard your single heart beating wildly within your chest and the sound maddened him. It took so little effort to push you to the polished floor. Your clothing came apart like parchment in his hands.

He loomed above you, higher thought lost to his most primal instincts. You submitted eagerly, turning onto your front and presenting yourself to him. Only ever to him. He snarled in satisfaction as he mounted you like a feral-

“No!” Data slates clattered to the floor as he stood, shaking the fantasy from his head.

You were precious and fragile. Such actions would only frighten you, and the idea of you fearing him was unbearable. For you, he would stifle these perverse desires. 

Even if it meant denying himself the slightest touch.

His vox crackled to life. “My Lord? Is all well?”

Guilliman took a moment to regulate his panting breaths. “All is well, Cato.”

“I thought I heard-”

“All is well, Cato.”

A brief pause, then. “The Captains are already assembling in the comm center. Would you like me to escort you to your armoring station?”

At least his armor would hide certain biological functions he found it increasingly difficult to control.

***

“Stupid female.”

For a brief moment you thought you’d somehow manifested your thoughts into reality. Then your eyes adjusted to the soft candleglow, and you saw you were not alone in the librarium.

A Mechanicus techpriest stood next to one of the writing tables, looming over a prostrated serf. You fought an instinctive grimace at the mass of metal augmentations and scar tissue that seemed to make up the majority of the Imperium’s cyborg scientists. 

A necessary evil, Roboute had called them.

But as you watched the techpriest reach down and grasp the serf’s lower jaw in his claw of a hand, you certainly felt this one was more evil than necessary.

An image of Lord O’Rourke threatening to end the lives of thousands of innocents flashed through your mind like lightning. The sudden rage that had prompted you to hurl yourself at him surged in your veins again.

“Unhand her at once!”

The priest looked up with a hiss and clatter, and this time you didn’t bother hiding your scowl of disgust as you marched toward him.

“I said unhand her!”

“Noncompliance.” Its voice screeched. “Additional human female does not equal authority figure.”

You grasped the metal wrist still crushing the serf’s jaw. “I am the Lord Regent’s betrothed. And I command-”

“Irrelevant data. Betrothed does not equal authority-”

“Do not interrupt me.” You felt…fierce. “I may not have authority over you now. But one day I will. And you know what I do have?” 

You stared, unflinching, into its corroded ruin of a face. “A very good memory.”

The techpriest whirred and buzzed for a moment. Then the metal hand unlocked and withdrew. You released its wrist, stepping between it and the serf. 

“Compliance.” It hissed.

“Thank you. Get out.”

“Compliance.”

You didn’t move from your place sheltering the serf until the priest shambled its way through the librarium door. Then you bent double, panting as the adrenaline rush faded. 

“My…my lady?”

You turned to the serf, a young woman, still kneeling on the hard floor. Blood welled from a scratch along one cheekbone. Glancing around at the shelves and tables, you saw nothing with which to clean the wound, not unless you chose to rip a page out of one of the books. Instead, you tore a strip from your sleeve. 

The woman gasped. “Oh no, my lady!”

“It’s only cloth.” Kneeling down, you pressed it to the woman’s cheek. “That brute ought to be punished.”

“It was my fault.” The woman gestured to the bucket of cleaning supplies tipped on its side next to her. “I was clumsy and jostled him. I deserved-”

Another lightning-flash of memory. A younger you, exhausted from studying all night, stumbling into your tutor as you tried to rise from your desk. The blows that followed.

“You did not deserve that.” You recognized the dark circles underneath the woman’s eyes. “How long since you last slept?”

“I don’t know.” The woman lifted her chin. “I am not complaining, my lady. My sister- I mean, the other serf assigned to this librarium, just gave birth. I am more than willing to take her burden on my shoulders.”

The scratch stopped bleeding, and you removed the cloth from her cheek. “That’s very good of you. May I know your name?”

“My name? I- of course, my lady. I am called Hestia.”

“Well, Hestia, this librarium looks fairly sturdy. I doubt it will crumble to dust if you take a day-cycle to rest. And if anyone questions you,” you felt some of that fierceness return, “refer them to me.”

***

“...refer them to me.”

The servo-skull finished its projected recording and returned to hover over the techpriest’s shoulder. Guilliman steepled his fingers in front of his face. 

“Incident equals gross overstep.” The Magus squawked. 

“I see.”

“Chastisement recommended!”

“Hmm.” Guilliman turned to the serf at his elbow. “Request the lady’s presence in my office, Marcus.”

The man bowed and jogged off, but not before Guilliman noticed him shoot a glare toward the techpriest.

Guilliman returned to examining a data slate on his desk, pointedly ignoring the Magus. In his mind, the scene of you defying the techpriest played over and over again. The grainy projection couldn’t mask the imperious lift of your chin, or the fierce look in your eye. Neither did it hide the gentleness with which you tended the serf woman’s wound. 

Judging from Marcus’s reaction, Guilliman had no doubt the story already circulated through the serf quarters.

If they liked you before, they adore you now.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Marcus entered with a flourish. “May I present….”

He gave your name and titles with respect bordering on reverence. Guilliman watched your face redden and felt a surge of empathy as he stood and beckoned you to his side. Your smile froze when you noticed the irate Magus.

You rushed to him. “Roboute, I can explain-”

“No need, my dear.” For the first time in days, he touched you, taking your hand in his.

The softness of your skin, and the way his hand swallowed yours ignited a heat deep in the pit of his stomach. He fought the wild urge to drag you up and onto his lap.

Instead, he addressed the Magus. “You are correct that my betrothed had no authority to act as she did.” He felt you tense, and gently squeezed your hand. “This is a matter I intend to rectify.”

Pulling a foot-thick stack of parchment from the pile on his desk, he handed it to Marcus. “This is an order giving this lady, my future consort, authority upon The Macragge’s Honor. She may command any person on this ship only excepting the Mechanics ArchMagi and the highest ranking Ultramarines.”

There were other caveats and exceptions of course, not to mention an extensive list of extenuating circumstances. He was nothing if not thorough. 

“See that it is posted and transmitted throughout this vessel.”

The serf’s eyes shone as he clutched the parchment to his chest, bowed lower than before, and fairly sprinted from the room.

The Magus looked as though he was about to start venting steam.

“You are dismissed.” Guilliman fixed the techpriest with a look he’d been told could freeze promethium. “See your underlings take greater care with the serfs, Magus. Any reported abuse will be severely punished.”

“Compliance. My Lord.”

As soon as the door hissed closed behind the Magus, you gripped his hand with both of yours. “Roboute, please don’t do this.”

He stared down at you, at the panic in your eyes. Before he could speak you rambled on.

“I-I can’t command anyone. I didn’t mean to suggest I could, or wanted to. I don’t deserve this kind of power! I’m so, so sorry, but-”

You tried to draw away, but he tightened his grip on your hand. All your interactions up to this point replayed in his mind, and one commonality became blindingly clear. 

“Why do you think so little of yourself?”

You twisted in his grip, eyes darting about like a captured prey animal. “I’m sorry, I…I….”

“Stop apologizing.” Against all the stalwart promises he’d made himself, he drew you closer. “What has happened to you that you cannot recognize the greatness I see within you?”

“N-no, I’m not-”

“Have I done or said something to make you think yourself unworthy?”

“No! At least….”

When tears filled your eyes he felt pain worse than Fulgrim’s blade across his throat. He cupped your face in his hands.

“Tell me what I have done that I may rectify it.”

He watched you squeeze your eyes shut and lean into him. “Y-you haven’t touched me in so long. I thought, I thought you didn’t…,” your voice died away.

If the Emperor Himself had suddenly marched into his office and punched him in the jaw Guilliman could not have been more stunned. All the times he fantasized about you, all the nights he stroked himself to completion to thoughts of you, all the moments he barely held himself back…!

“Damn it all to the Warp!”

***

Roboute’s sudden bellow nearly deafened you. You found yourself picked up by your hips and tossed atop his desk. Writing implements and documents of what you were certain was vital importance scattered in all directions. But the look in the eyes of the giant leaning over you said he could care less.

“Do you remember my words the night I came to your chambers?”

By the Light and the Void, that growl….

“Yes.” You whispered.

“Tell me.”

“Y-you, you said….”

His face pressed close to yours, teeth bared. “Tell. Me.”

The sheer force of a Primarch’s lust overwhelmed you. And yet you realized you’d willingly get on your hands and knees to beg for more.

“You said you wanted me.”

His mouth crashed into yours, stealing the very air from your lungs. After a blissful eternity you felt him grasp your thighs and yelped as he flipped you onto your front, your legs dangling off the side of his desk. Then his fingers sank into your hips and he pressed against your rear.

“Ah, Roboute!”

“Do you feel that?” You heard snarling frustration in his voice. “Do you feel how badly I desire you?” A forearm the thickness of your waist slammed into the desk above your head. “I have never felt like this about anyone in my long life. The things I want to do to you, woman.”

You felt his chest expanding and contracting against your back. You heard his heaving pants.

Doubt vanished. 

“I love you, Roboute!”

He groaned. Again, he turned you and you stared up into his eyes. The hunger remained, but tempered now by something far sweeter. You reached for him and he let you pull his head into your neck.

He whispered against your skin. “I swore not to take you until I could do so as your husband. And I stand by that oath. But never again doubt my desire for you, my Hearts.”

Relief. Sheer relief like the removal of a burden you hadn’t known you’d been carrying. 

“Never again.”

He pulled back to look you in the face. “And stop doubting your worth.”

A harder request. “I…I will try, Roboute. For you.”

He rested his forehead against yours. “Do it for your own sake, my love. You are far more than you-”

The door opened and the outraged voice of none other than Cato Sicarius spoke. “Lord Guilliman! I just read your latest proclamation and I felt it my duty to voice severe concerns-”

“GET OUT.”

You heard the hasty retreat of armored boots and burst into giggles. Roboute looked down at you, then his rumbling chuckles joined yours.

You laughed in each other’s arms, and all was perfect.

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@bispecsual @kit-williams @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus @lemon-russ

@justeverythingnothingelse @scriberye @bleedingichorhearts @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @mooniequeen

@passionofthesith @noncon-photobomb @sinistermojo @b-rabbitboss @vyzz-undercover

@missmannequin @jaghatai-khock

[concreteangel92]

The Angel Of The Night

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: smut, PiV, oral (female receiving) praise kink, slight obsessive/stalker elements (this is based off of the ghost of the opera house himself 🤣) talks of the death of loved ones, dark romance, I’m pretty sure that’s it

So this has been in the works since August when I watched the phantom of the opera in Greece on my first night there haha I’ve always loved this show (west end and film!) and I even have a tattoo dedicated to it so it was a no brainer to me that Noah would fit perfectly into this aesthetic!

The mask (especially the new one!!) the glove, his voice all mixed with an old theatre and gothic aesthetic and atmosphere? Hell fucking yes!!

Remember that this is an inspired fic so you’ll see familiar names, themes, etc but it’s not the actual whole story! But if you’re a fan of the soundtrack, you may recognise a few lyrics here and there 🤭

I hope you all enjoy it, it’s a long one so grab yourself a cuppa and I’ll see you on the next fic. Also please let me know your thoughts!! I’d love to know what you all think as this is definitely the longest I’ve ever spent writing one story haha let me know, you can always message me anonymously if you’re shy 🖤

Tags: @triedbimsoblu333 @I00na24 @iluvmewwwww75 @veronicaphoenix @tosoundlessdarkistare @specialstay @dsireland86 @philomenie @clingylittlebun-blog @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lilcrazy011

Masterlist

You’d been with your theatre company since you were a child, having lost your parents at a young age, the opera house is all you have ever really known.

You loved it here, the old theatre was your home. You knew every wing like the back of your hand, every creaky floorboard backstage, how the orchestra pit echoed when no one was in it, you knew the creepiest parts that no one like to venture into. You loved it all, it was your sanctuary.

There was something about the theatre that made you feel at peace, standing up on the stage in front of a huge audience, hearing their cheers and cries that made your heart swell. The heat of the spotlights, the magic you felt as you danced to beat of the live music, everything about it made you feel so alive.

The year was 1870 in Paris and you were currently playing the leading role in the current opera ‘Hannibal’

It was your debut as the leading lady and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

You walked quietly around the empty stalls of the theatre, taking in its musky smell, the beautiful architecture of the building and the huge crystal chandelier that hung high above your head. You ran your fingers across the old red velvet on the chair in front of you and sat yourself down in one of the seats near the pit.

The stage was empty but you could hear the hustle and bustle backstage of the cast and crew getting everything ready for opening night tonight, although there was still hours to go, there was still much more that needed to be set up.

You fiddled with your fingers nervously in your lap, taking a deep breath, you couldn’t help but speak aloud softly.

“Please….please let tonight go well”

You kept your eyes closed as you leant back in the chair, allowing a moment for yourself to process the evening that you knew lay ahead. You were certain you had been alone….until you heard his voice.

From high up above your head, in the gods, you heard his beautiful, ethereal voice humming down to you.

With a small gasp, you opened your eyes and looked up into darkness, and there amongst the ropes and pulleys of the backdrops and lights, you saw his silhouette and instantly a small smile appeared on your lips.

“There you are”

Your words were barely a whisper, your angel of music was right there with you. You should have known he wouldn’t be far away.

“Y/N what are you doing down there? You need to get ready for tonight!”

You tore your eyes away from your mysterious friend and saw your teacher/guardian Madame Giry standing in the wings on stage left.

“Yes Madame”

You casted up eyes up once more to the heavens to see that he was gone, like a ghost who was never there in the first place.

•••••

He was nicknamed the ‘Opera Ghost’

No one in the theatre ever questioned that box 5 was always left empty so no customer could use it, people ignored the eerie echoes of his angelic singing that seemed to come from no where all around the old building. No one had ever seen him fully, only catching glimpses of his shadow in the night.

No one, but you.

You were the only person to have had any interaction with the ghost. He had started visiting you when you were a child, you were 8 years old when your parents had met their tragic end and you were fated to the theatre. It wasn’t long after that you started to hear his voice in the night.

It started off with just singing, he comforted you when you were crying yourself to sleep, not having come to terms with the loss of your parents and the change that was about to happen within your life. You had felt so alone, you hardly knew anyone within the company, the only reason you came to be here was because Madame Giry was a close friend to your mother and she had agreed to take you in when they died.

But in those long, lonely first nights and weeks, his beautiful voice helped you drift off to sleep.

As the years went on, the beautiful voice became deeper and he started to talk to you quietly from within the walls, the mirror, you never knew exactly where he was but you always knew he was there.

In recent years, he had been singing your songs with you, helping you train your soprano skills, a patient teacher and a loyal companion is what you knew him to be.

Although you knew people had dubbed him the ‘opera ghost’ you felt that wasn’t a suitable title for this angelic creature so you called him your very own ‘angel of the night’ which was a nickname you often heard him whispering back to you.

Your angel wasn’t just a teacher to you anymore, he had become a friend. You told him all your hopes, dreams and your darkest fears. You’d talk to him until you heard the faint sound of the birds chirping and saw the first rays of the morning sun rising over the horizon through your window.

He would still sing you to sleep on the nights you struggled, when the past traumas returned in the forms of nightmares, he was always there to help take your fears away.

His voice was like nothing you had ever heard before. He sounded almost like a siren calling out to his awaiting victims and just like one, you felt the pull within your soul every time he called.

Tonight was the opening night, your big debut, but that wasn’t the only reason for your nerves. You knew he’d be there, watching from box 5, hidden within the shadows, but always there.

“Will he be impressed? Will I be everything he hoped for?”

These thoughts plagued your mind as you walked down the corridor, your heels clicking with every step, until you reached your dressing room/living quarters.

You wrapped your hand around the old doorknob and turned it so your door swung open with a creak.

In front of you was your dressing room, your bedroom was through the door at the back of the room, the walls were a beautiful shade of red, almost matching the seats in the theatre stalls out front. There were beautiful paintings in gold frames on the walls of your favourite artwork, a huge mirror that took up one wall, a rail of costumes and props lined another, you had your changing screen next to that and then you also had your beautiful make up vanity, surrounded by candles and all your make up and jewellery that was laid out for you on the counter.

But what caught your attention was the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, roses of the darkest red lay across your chair with a hand written piece of paper on top.

You walked over and picked up your present, inhaling their beautiful scent while you read the note.

‘To my beautiful angel’

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, you knew it was him, he had left you a good luck token in preparation for tonight.

You felt your nerve’s ease, you knew you could do this, as you knew your angel would be watching over you.

•••••

The sounds of a standing ovation, loud cheers and clapping filled your ears as you took your final bow, flowers of all kinds being thrown onto the stage around your feet.

The show had gone without a hitch, your solo performance had been an absolute triumph that brought the audience to their feet. Throughout the production you had tried glancing up at box 5, hoping to see a glimpse of him but of course, nothing. Just the sight of the curtains moving gently when it was take to take the bows, almost like they had been caught in the non existent breeze.

Your vision was blocked completely as the main house curtain fell to the stage, muffling out the sounds of the audience still cheering from the other side.

You felt yourself being embraced by your fellow cast and crew members, all congratulating you on your performance.

“That what incredible!”

“Bravo!”

“Y/N you were sensational!”

You felt your cheeks go warm at all the compliments, the adrenaline still fully pumping through your body as you tried to catch your breath.

You thanked everyone and helped pick up the flowers littered across the stage to take back to your dressing room.

“He was there, I know he was! I wonder if he liked it?”

You felt butterflies start in your stomach at the thought, you would never want to disappoint him, you craved to know how he felt. You couldn’t wait to get back to your room.

You once again gave everyone your thanks and made your leave, half jogging down the corridors behind the theatre.

Once you entered your room, you put down all your flowers, taking note of even more bouquets that had been sent here from different admirers that were now spread around and all the lanterns and candles were burning beautifully, giving the room a beautiful golden glow.

You walked behind your changing screen and started to remove your heavy dress, a costume you were relieved to be out of, finally feeling like you could breathe normally once the corset was gone. You settled for a simple white lace dress that fell to floor. You removed all the pins from your hair and allowed it to cascade down your back. You were about to remove the make up on your face when you heard a knock at your door.

You called out for them to enter and you looked up into your mirror and saw Madame Giry standing there with another body behind her.

“Sorry to disturb you Y/N but there is someone who would like to meet you?”

You turned around and glanced behind and saw a handsome young man standing almost nervously on the spot with his top hat in his hands. He had short dark hair, was an average height and was wearing a formal dinner suit fit for the theatre.

You nodded and Madame Giry stepped aside so he could walk forward.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you”

You smiled politely, stood and offered your hand for him to grasp in his own as he bowed his head gently.

“My name is Henry Edwards. Do excuse my intuition miss, I was just so captivated by your performance that I wanted to give my congratulations in person. I’ve actually seen many performances here at this theatre but tonight was by far the best I have ever seen”

You smiled wider at his words, his face definitely looking more familiar now that he’s mentioned he’d been here before. You’d often seen him admiring your dancing in previous productions.

“Thank you Mr Edwards, you are too kind”

“If I was to be so bold Miss Y/N, I would love to be able to discuss your performance further, perhaps over tea or a stroll around the park?”

You were taken back by his proposal, not used to men being so forward with you or even desiring you at all really.

“Oh erm…yes, I…I think that would be a lovely idea”

You panicked, you knew you weren’t particularly interested in the man in front of you but what harm was there to be courted for an afternoon.

Henry looked very pleased as he fumbled over a thank you, his next words were lost on you as you suddenly felt a presence within the room, the presence of someone who wasn’t happy at all.

You turned your head to the big mirror behind you and watched as a few of the near by candles flickered angrily before going out completely, leaving nothing but whips of smoke behind.

“Mine”

The word was whispered so low and dragged out that it almost sounded like the wind, but you knew better, the realisation sending chills down your spine.

You turned back and caught Madame Giry’s gaze, it was as shocked as your own, she knew.

“Well Mr Edwards, I’m sorry but that will be all for tonight, Miss Y/L/N is extremely tired and needs to rest her voice. Come back in a couple days to arrange this meeting?”

Madame had already started pulling gently on his arm and gesturing for him to leave, he looked baffled at first but soon composed himself.

“Oh erm…yes, yes, of course. Goodnight Miss Y/L/N and I’ll pop by in a few days?”

You nodded with a forced smile as you watched as he slipped his top hat back upon his head and walked out of the room, Madame Giry giving you one last look before shutting the door behind her, the sound echoing through the empty room.

But you knew you were far from alone.

You turned around to face the mirror, staring at your own reflection, the sound of his quiet humming started once more and you felt pulled towards the mirror.

Almost like you were in a trance, you stepped forward, your eyes glued to your own reflection until you noticed another pair of eyes staring back at you from over your shoulder.

You should have been afraid, you should have called out for help, but you didn’t.

Dark almond eyes gazed back into your own, his face becoming more clearer the closer you got. But it wasn’t his whole face you saw. It was covered by half of a white mask, almost like he was trying to hide his true identity.

You stood frozen in place as your angel came fully into view, it was like he’d appeared from the mirror itself, like he truly was a mystical creature from another world.

His song was hypnotising, the melody causing your head to feel so light and airy, like you were floating on a cloud.

You looked up in your dream like state to see him standing in front of you.

You reached your hand out without a thought and was met with a hard, firm chest, your angel was truly here.

Taking in his appearance, he was even more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. He was tall, extremely tall and towered over your small frame and was just as broad in his chest and back. You could see he had shiny, brown hair that was falling down to his neck, it looked so soft that you felt the urge to run your fingers through it.

Your angel was wearing a black suit with a long black cloak over the top and of course the half mask, you had never wanted to remove something so much in your life, his face was absolutely perfect, why would he hide? His eyes appeared darker now he was in front of you, he had the most intense stare that you’d ever seen, it was like he could see into your very soul and read your every thought.

The last thing you took note of was his tattoos that were peaking out over his collar and on his right hand, his other being covered with a black leather glove. It was unusual to see a man around these parts that had tattoos, you’d never seen any before.

He moved around your body slowly, his hands running up through the air next to your arms, not touching but still your skin felt like it had been set alight. As his hands came up near your face, he gestured for you to look ahead.

“Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside. I am your angel of music”

You inhaled deeply as you took in the sight of him standing directly behind you, his whole presence was consuming you.

His face suddenly looked angry as he whispered his next words.

“Insolent boy. Does your young suitor really think that he can take what’s mine?”

You turned to face him, the thought of your angel being angry with you was too much to bare.

“Angel my soul is weak, forgive me! Yours is the only one that calls me”

He stood staring down into your eyes, like he was trying to find a lie but he would find none. You knew your heart belonged to him, it always had.

“Hide no longer from me”

Your words were hardly audible but you knew he’d heard. No words were given in return, all you could hear the was sounds of his beautiful song again as it’s filled your mind. He walked back around your body and backed himself up towards the mirror, that was when he held out his hand to you, you took it without hesitation.

Your head light as a feather, you followed him willingly, you hardly paid attention to where you were going or how you got there, all that mattered was that you were with him. His siren song never once stopping as you made your way down the dimly lit corridors heading down to the catacombs beneath the city.

The walls were lined with candles, all lit up, the air was damp and cold against your skin.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Your beautiful angel in front of you, he could have been leading you to the pits of hell and you wouldn’t have cared. He kept looking back at you every so often, as if to make sure you hadn’t vanished.

Coming up to the waters edge, you noticed a small boat ready, he stepped into it first and one again extended his hand out, you took it and stepped into the boat after him.

The foggy feeling never left, you felt so free, so light, like nothing could touch you ever again. It was almost like you’d become a spirit of another realm, not of this earth but not quite moved onto the next.

You continued to listen to his voice, just as he always had done, he soothed away any of your fears. You took note of all the burning candles, the way the water lapped up the sides and casted a beautiful rippling reflection up on the walls.

As you rowed further into the catacombs, you saw your destination. This could only be his home.

It was breathtaking, even more candles lit the area and it was living space in the middle of the caves. Artwork, statues and musical instruments of all kinds surrounded you. And roses, dark red roses everywhere.

You closed your eyes as you felt the inner peace of contentment washed over you, you couldn’t describe it any other way, it was like you were in a dream.

The sound of his voice gently stopped as he got out of the boat and you stood to follow, allowing him to place his hands on your waist and lift you easily onto the floor.

You started to turn your head around to take in your surroundings but you felt his fingers grasp your chin gently but firm and pulled your face back to meet his.

You tilted your head and glanced down at his lips, wondering if he would lean down into you.

Gazing up into his face, you really took in his features, he was absolutely perfect. Your eyes wandered to the mask and your hand reached up slowly to push it off of him before you even truly thought of your actions.

Your hand was stopped by his gripping onto your wrist sharply and tightly, his eyes first the first time showing any sort of vulnerability as he shook his head slightly.

“Why do you hide from me angel?”

He brought your hand back down gently and took a deep breath.

“Because I would repulse you, you’d run from me”

You brought your free hand up and held onto his cheek, the pads of your fingers gently caressing his smooth skin.

“I could never, you’re my guide, my guardian…my friend”

His eyes soften at your words, you watched the candles fire reflecting and dancing deep within his irises as you waited for his response.

Your angel stood slightly straighter, he let go of your hand and he reached up until the base of the mask was between his fingertips. He hesitated for a moment before he ducked his head down and slid the mask off, his hair falling back into place as it was removed.

When he looked back up, the sight that greeted you was a shock. The whole right side of his face and into his scalp was burnt and had deep scaring. You would have believed it to be painful but it was clear to see that these were not fresh wounds.

You gasped quietly but you didn’t recoil. Instead you raised your hand and held the right side of his neck gently and leaned up and kissed his jagged skin softly, not missing the low moan it pulled from his throat as you did.

“Those that have seen your face draw back in fear. I do not”

“I do not frighten you little one?”

You shook your head and continued to gently stroke his scars.

“Never. Please tell me angel, do you have a name?”

“Noah”

His name left your lips in a whisper, your eyes half lidded as you looked up at him. It was a beautiful name that was well suited to the man before you.

His hand came up to brush your hair from your face, you couldn’t help but softy sing his own song back to him, not missing how his eyes darken.

“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams”

Your eyes fell shut, the next feeling was his lips upon yours, gently moving with you.

It was electric, both of his hands came up to cradle your neck, holding close as he pressed his body into yours.

Pulling away, his hands slowly wandered down your body, your breathing was starting to quicken within your chest.

“Trust me?”

You nodded without hesitation, your eyes never leaving his. Noah then picked you up bridal style and carried you over to a huge king size bed that was covered in red sheets and was surrounded by a black lace canopy.

He set you down onto your feet and moved behind you to start undoing the ties on the back of your dress, letting his fingers trace the skin beneath as he did.

“Where does your soul long to be?”

You turned to face him, your dress loose over your shoulders.

“With you, I belong to you, I have always belonged to you”

He lowered his head down to you and once again captured your lips between his own, this time more passionate than before. Noah slipped his hands into the fabric at the top of your dress and continued to slide it off your shoulders as he moved his head down to start ghosting kisses along your collar bone.

You moved your hands into his hair and finally felt how soft it really was, it was like silk moving between your fingers.

You felt your dress starting to fall off of you, fully aware that your top half was completely bare underneath. You felt the material pool around your feet and his hands settled onto your hips as he continued to kiss and gently bite your skin, moving further down.

Your stomach was starting to tighten, the feeling that was washing over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he started to moved his head lower and gently sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, feeling his warm tongue flicking over the harden bud while his hand came up to caress the other, rolling that nipple between his fingers.

You tried to hold back the noises that your body wanted to make, feeling self conscious of how you must have sounded, something Noah seemed to pick up on easily.

“Savour each sensation my little angel, let me hear you, let your darker side give in to me”

You watched as Noah stood tall and removed the cloak from his shoulders and his jacket and carelessly let them fall to the ground, he then moved you back until your legs hit the bed and he guided you down onto the plush mattress and your body sank into the pillows, his body following yours swiftly after.

You felt his hands running up your bare legs up to your underwear, toying with the waistband teasingly before pulling them off slowly, he was clearly savouring every noise or squirm your body was making under his touch.

“You’re mine my little angel, you belong to me”

You nodded, unable to form any words due to the feeling of him ghosting his lips across your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart slowly.

“Say it”

“I’ve always been yours Noah”

The sound of his name felt so right, he had always been there and you had always been his.

Noah used his hands to push your legs further apart, opening you up for him. A low groan came from deep within his chest as he leant down and licked one slow, long strip up your centre, the feeling sending shock waves through your body and your back to arch off the mattress.

You felt his fingers move to your outer lips to part them gently so he could flick his tongue inside, loving tasting you for the first time.

The sensations that were flooding your body was nothing short of pure ecstasy, Noah continued to eat you out slowly and let his thumb move upward so he could start rubbing firm circles against your clit.

“Oh my….Noah, please!”

You didn’t know what you were begging for, your body felt alive, your stomach was twisting beautifully and your hands found themselves running through his hair, pushing him closer into your centre.

The pleasure that you felt was overwhelming, your thighs were starting to shake, tears were forming in the corners of your eyes as you couldn’t stop the cries that left your mouth.

Noah didn’t stop, he moved his fingers faster and continued to devour you until your legs squeezed around his head and the breath was pulled from your lungs as your orgasm washed over you and you felt like you were floating and falling all at the same time.

Once you started to come back down, you saw that Noah had stripped himself of the rest of his clothes and was settling himself down in between your legs. The sight of how many tattoos he truly had was astonishing.

“I’ve waited so long to feel you around me my little dove”

Noah reached down and gripped himself and ran his head along your folds, your wetness gathering onto him, before he slowly pushed his hips forward, the feeling of him stretching you open was almost sinful.

Your head fell back into the pillows and his head fell into your neck as he growled from the feeling of you. Your hands came and found themselves wrapped around his arms as you adjusted to his size.

“You’re perfect…it’s like you were made for me”

Your cheeks became warm at his words, his praise making your core throb with need.

Noah started moving his hips against yours, it was a torturously slow and deep pace that caused you to feel every inch of him against your walls, your body instantly reacting to his movements.

“You feel incredible around me angel, fuck…you’re so fucking perfect. My perfect little angel”

You moaned loudly, his words mixed with his deep thrusts was intoxicating, your heart was swimming with so many emotions, you never wanted this moment to end.

You reached your hand up and placed it onto his scared skin, wanting to show him that he was beautiful in your eyes. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he started to thrust harder, a layer of sweat had now coated both of your bodies and the room echoed with the sounds of your cries and skin slapping onto skin.

“Noah…I..I feel…”

You couldn’t finish your words, you didn’t need to, Noah knew you were near your end. His hips moved faster, the motion pressing your body into the mattress as your nails dug into the skin on his back as your body wound itself up tighter.

“Cum for me, I want to feel you”

Noah’s own hips started to falter as your body was suddenly convulsing underneath his and you screamed out his name, you squeezed your eyes shut as you rode out the waves of your high, feeling Noah’s release deep inside of you as he groaned loudly into your shoulder.

You felt Noah kiss your skin softly as he slipped himself out, the loss leaving you feeling so empty. He brought you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you tightly as if he was frightened you’d leave.

“Stay with me?”

You looked up with a smile and kissed his lips.

“Forever”

Noah smiled back and he pulled the covers over your naked bodies and he started to hum his song once again, the song that you’d known since you were young.

It was beautiful, it was haunting but most of all, it was comforting. You snuggled into his side and allowed your angel of music to sing you into a beautiful, deep sleep.

[chasedeys]

I always find it funny how different Ja’marr and Joe’s aesthetics are (edgy vs psychedelic like you said) given how different their personalities are

like Ja’marr is human sunshine while Joe has very serious black cat energy (unless he’s with certain people but what do I knoooww 🤔)

they truly dooooo have differing aesthetics oughguhguhh like they both love their bright colorful statement pieces to death they just go on about it their own way like i said yeah ja'marr pairs them with dark and edgy while joe goes for downright psychedelic 😭

ja'marr loves his diamonds and blings while joe wears them too but kind of bc its kind of expected of him??? (?? i don't actually know for sure the particular lore of his blings tbh lol but its giving those vibes. kind of expected him to be a grossly expensive charms necklace kind of guy. the recent colorful (?) one is definitely his vibes tho). ja'marr's entire thing with the fleur de lis vs joe's entire thing with his sentimental wristbands. and then their styles just start bleeding into each others oughgughguhh (well ja'marr's to joe lol clearly the better style between the two and also. clothes saga. ehem)

bright sunshine ja'marr 😔🫶🫶 but also specifically he’s THE golden hour moment you know that setting sun brilliance growing darker by the minute bc he’s very free with his laughter and smiles and jolly and happy-go-lucky (joes own choice of word btw crazy) but he also has extremely petty layers like the competency thing, the i won’t trade jerseys if you talked shit thing, the write my name right thing, the whole beef he has with an entire nfl team thing etc etc

ALSO if i could make some cat dog comparisons lol:

ja'marr's giving golden retriever sure but he’s more of a german shepherd to me but specifically the ones with extreme case of soulful puppy dog eyes and whines to be petted and shamelessly thinks he's a lap dog and rips all his toys within weeks and refuses to wear plain collars and leashes and enjoys walks to the park where he gets to run around with all the dogs in the park within the first few seconds of arriving but also stays loyally by your side growling at strangers getting too close to you and also refuses to sleep anywhere but on your bed by your feet and there's times when you sit on your toilet seat trying to take a shit only to nearly die with your pants down bc he just slammed open the bathroom door and sat his ass down right in front of you staring at you taking a shit.

joe's definitelyyyy black cat but particularly those black cats that shows affection on his own terms one minute you’re having a heart attack bc he appeared out of nowhere rubbing on your ankles and purring when you scrub between his ears only to freak out the next minute because he’s disappeared literally to thin air only for him to meow balefully from inside the kitchen cabinets bc you’re too loud and frantic while he’s trying to have his lone time but also incredibly loyal when your family and friends come by he’s nowhere to be found but when you have weird strangers over he sticks by your side hackles raised hissing at them and he also has moments of silliness where you look up and he’s contorted himself to an eldritch horror shape just staring at you in the middle of the dark and it's just because he wants the spot your sitting on.

combine them 🫶 and you come home to black cat peacefully napping on top of a panting german shepherd's head while your couch pillows are obliterated to shreds and stuffing all over the place and there’s kitty claw marks all over the coffee table.

[deepestdelulu]

30 Things To Make Life Unforgettable

Appreciating life is one of the things I´ve learned this year, small things, happy moments... All of them are valuable for who we are as well as who we will become. However, we are not conscious of what we have, all the feellings we are experimenting and the opportunities we are losing for doing other things (such as being on our phones 5+ hours). I hope this list helps you making life a little bit simpler.

Walking in the rain. In my city rains a lot, so I´m not going to propose you going to the beach, since I can´t (obv you can do it), we have to adapt ourselves to what we have, and rain is one of my favourite things, I used to hate it when I was younger tho.

Spend your day in a cozy cafe. Not only can you have a coffee, but you can also read, study and be productive. The bes part is that you are experimenting new things, being productive and having fun with a hot coffe/tea.

Put your phone away. Be present babe, this is all what we have, you want to live your life, don´t you? Then start doing it, of course you are not going to live advemtures everyday, but at least you can try it. :)

Learn new things. It will never be a waste of time knowledge.

Be more passionate and intense. Who cares if you are too much? It only matters what YOU want.

Trying new recipees. I didn´t use to be a big fan of cooking, but I tried it few months ago, and let me tell you, all I do naw are bisquits for people I care.

More museums, more art gallery. I´ve always wanted to give mysterious girl vibes (I´m a yapper but introverted at the same time) you can always try reading in a museum.

"For the plot" mindset. My friends and I sometimes play saying yes to almost everything, just to see hwo things develop. It´s very fun:)

Bucketlisting. In a world of consumerism no one can scape

Trying something new. I started dancing, and I feel so energetic.

Learning to be alone. I do have a post about it :) go check it after this one.

Candle+Sweater=Coziness. Scented candles, my bff in autumn/winter.

Book annotating. It helps focusing, you can go through your notes after it and in my opinion creates more powerful bonds with the story and you.

Old classic books. Culture girls are the hottest.

Cooking your own meals. It's such a simple and sweet act of self-care. You can also try making your own Jam or something.

Doing things that you enjoyed as a child. My favorites are horse riding, swimming, baking, and bubble baths.

Buying flowers for yourself. It doesn't have to be an expensive and fancy bouquet, just some pretty flowers for your room.

Doing your nails. I like red wine ones, makes me feel like a vampire!

Taking more Photos. You can also buy a cool vintage camera (I recommend looking on eBay!) to make it more aesthetically pleasing.

Trying crochet, knitting, or sewing. I'm trying to crochet a sweater for my dog right now, haha.

Planting a plant. I tried to plant an avocado, but it didn´t grow as i expected, although i´ll keep trying it

Making plans with your friends like going on a picnic. You could plan some themed picnics like cottagecore, homemade food from your culture, strawberries, and so on; also a great opportunity to take some pictures!

Do volunteer work. Tried it last year, it was so fun to learn new skills and meeting new people while trying to make world better.

Writing a diary. Writing down things that have happened and looking back at them feels really lovely to me.

Writing letters to your friends. Letters just feel more personal than text; you can also keep them as a memory.

Dressing in a way that makes you feel happy. Wearing outfits that make you feel confident will definitely make life better.

Petting stray cats. I love cats.

Starting to collect something. You could collect something small like jewelry or postcards!

Playing music in the background while doing stuff. I can't stop listening to the lofi girl stream on youtube, haha.

Going on gloomy walks in the Forrest. Name something more comforting. I will wait.

Please feel free to add more suggestions in the comments! <3

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧

[sky-scribbles]

Okay, I'm a couple of hours into Veilguard, so I thought I'd share all the things I've really loved so far:

The combat is so much more dynamic and fluid! There were things I liked about the previous games' combat, but I do remember Inquisition often feeling like 'select enemy, then mash buttons until they die.' I love that I can duck and weave around monsters! I love being encouraged to swap between weapons (however much I have to suspend my disbelief about Rook putting away two swords and grabbing a bow in a single second)! It's just really fun!

Maybe I'm imagining it, but I feel like the camera is a bit closer to Rook, and it makes so much difference. Sometimes in Inquisition, and often in Andromeda, I felt really far away from my character, and it creates this sense of distance. It's a tiny thing, but I do genuinely think being that bit closer has made my experience a load better.

I cannot describe how affirming it feels to have an NPC point to my character and casually say 'they.'

Holy shit I love the gang's casual looks. Harding's embroidered florals and Neve's colour scheme?? Also, both of them changing their hairstyles in the field? God I wish I could show this to my 16-year-old self as they stewed in frustration over the women in Mass Effect having to go into battle with their long hair down.

The aesthetics of Arlathan! I made such a delighted noise when I realised they ancient elves had power crystals and magitech-looking devices; sci-fi like elements being introduced into fantasy is my jam, and it works so well to make clear how advanced Elvhenan really was. It reminds me of how cool it was in Critical Role when the characters went to the ruins of Aeor and found a bunch of advanced magitech: that same feeling of 'holy shit, this world we've spent so much time in and treated like a normal fantasy world is post-apocalyptic.'

Being able to give my Rook so many freckles.

[ectoimp]

oooo now Im thinking about the cave more, because honestly its truly one of the biggest mysterys of MSA. What the heck is up with the cave? We only get a few looks at it (and one is Lewis' version) But it seems like it was a tourist attraction, but it seems like there arent guided tours, at least not currently (or they were being total hooligans and snuck in during off hours lol)

Theres ropes and then the ??? signs. Like the signs kinda just seem like spooky theming at a Halloween thing. So I would also assume that the skulls are fake too. Its very much giving off "WHAT IS...THE THING???" tourist trap

But if its a tourist trap, why are their no gaurd-rails over the spike pit? I mean...that very well could be why the attraction is closed. Because whoever ran it didnt care about safety and someone got hurt (who knows maybe reverb isnt a real demon, hes just some guy that tripped and died and that bruised his ego and now hes being petty and murdery about it)

Theres also this door that...maybe has another skull and crossbones on it? (hard to tell cause the video isnt hd)

So maybe this is suppose to be a safe tourist cave and thats why they just wandered in. Still doesnt explain the torch....but maybe lewis is just a dork and did it for the aesthetic. Unless maybe electronic devices werent working? (which adds a fun layer of not being able to call for help)

Lets say there were asked to investigate by someone and they were told it was a safe cave. I could see Vivi being much more cautious with believing clients afterwards. Its possible that precave, the back of the van didnt have all that stuff in it. They seem very prepared for anything now. We cant see all of what on arthurs side since he keeps it in boxes

Vivis got holy water, and garlic and just cause im picking on Lewis' torch, its funny that we see a flashlight here.

So Vivis prepared now at the very least. If she was winging it before, this would show alot of growth for her. Shes not taking chances again

Ya know what I find interesting. There are almost no "Lewis lives/is resurrected" fics. Fics where he doesnt die, just swap him dying for someone else dying.

If you go to the "lewis lives" tag on ao3 there are 11 works. All except 2 are actually precave, lewis hasnt died yet or the kind where someone else died instead.

and there are 2 resurrection fics and of those one still involves someone else dying (arthur killing himself specifically)

And yeah, Lewis' death is the inciting incident to the series, but I certainly dont think there are no stories to tell there. I think there could be very interesting character drama there. Especially when you dont have the amnesia thing to make it so no one has to deal with the aftermath

With no ghost induced amnesia, Vivi has to deal with the fact that being the leader, Arthur getting hurt was on her. Lewis getting hurt/almost getting hurt is on her. They went cave exploring with no safety gear. In street clothes (chucks for hiking in a wet cave??). They didnt even have a flashlight. And its seems that no one knew they were going into this cave (since it seems like Lewis' corpse is still there) So they broke every basic rule of caving safety https://www.fs.usda.gov/visit/know-before-you-go/cave-safety

Like even if you dont blame her, I think she would blame herself. And its another thing I dont think I saw explored much. I'd see it get mentioned but usually it would immediately get brushed aside, usually by one of the boys.

But with how unsafe there were being....Lewis could have just died from slipping. No possession required. (obviously the doylist reason is because it would be a pain to design whole new outfits for one scene that was added last minute. They would look super cute in little themed caving outfits tho.)

This started out with just me thinking about "Lewis lives" But now its more about how I kinda want more Vivi angst......

Imagine if Lewis knew Arthur was possessed. If Arthur hadnt been clear he didnt want to go in the cave. Imagine if Lewis blamed Vivi.

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….

[seagull-scribbles]

☔️ It’s time to loose your self loathing, excuse yourself, let hope in ♥️

[cloud-makers-make-pollution]

One day when I have a partner and we’re adults we’re going on a stargazing date this is beautiful

[ghostsandmirrors]

@fangsforhire sent ✎ for a bucky and lucien moodboard.

— original images (top L to bottom R): [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x] | [x]

texture credits! n/a

[wcvensouls]

it might have taken awhile to get right where they had always belonged but oh, did they love every second of the journey — featuring taesoo & harper's wedding celebrations and honeymoon ( @sunchases )

[hollis-exe]

they gotta put some sort of enrichment in my cave man i just spent 3 hours placing cubes

[byanyan]

character inspoㅤㅤ♡ㅤㅤblank template here!!

tagged by:ㅤ@skxrbrand ty!! ♡

[queeraak]

i must confess that fall is the worst season in my opinion and i don't know why people like it. everything bad about the world is represented in october - november

[fragmentedblade]

I've been reading about xiangqi a bit and now I'm even more obsessed with that one video of Jing Yuan