#i just like... promoting interaction with the surroundings...

[akajustmerry]

i've been thinking and i think a lot of celebrity discourse wouldn't be a thing if more people understood how PR works and that these famous people have been carefully curated as products for consumption 99% of the time. the reason a lot of actors seem so much like their characters is because, a lot of the time, they're deliberately playing that aspect of themselves up to promote the project they're in. why do you think so many straight actors starring in gay films have vaguely gay anecdotes prepared for interviews? why do you think leads promoting rom-coms often play up their chemistry in interviews? none of it is accidental. pedro pascal isn't walking around calling himself daddy because he happens to genuinely call himself that. it makes him more marketable. i think a lot of us know that celebrities' public personas are curated, but it doesn't stick because we want to be entertained and to like these people. the more I interact with PR people as part of my job and am made aware of the "rules" surrounding celebrity interactions and interviews - the more I've realised just how much of a performance all of it is. now i am not saying it's a Bad thing, i think this curation is mostly in place to protect privacy and keep promotion focused on the show/film. but i don't think it would hurt for more people and fans to remember that almost everything you know and see about celebrities is incredibly curated and tunnel-visioned to make them living breathing promo material for whatever they're in, which is to say that these are the last people who should be looked to as role models for moral and ethical guidance because they aren't *for* that.

[reidmania]

STILL | spencer reid

summary ; loosing based off still by niall horan. You and spencer broke up and when you see him at a bar a month later everything comes back.

warnings; this is long pure angst with a (?) happy (?) hopeful ending. imma say female reader because there so many little things that indicate that. hella miscommunication, arguing, drinking, jealous spencer, i think its a happy ending idk tbh, let me know if i missed anything

a/n ; this is 4k words. i did not intend that at all, i honestly got so insanely carried away. im so sorry.

You regretted everything, in this moment more than any other. You didn't know how you were possibly stupid enough to be dragged into going out tonight. When your coworkers approached you with the idea of going out for drinks after work as a way to celebrate your promotion, you shouldn't of let yourself get sucked in. It took some convincing till you eventually gave in, but you did -- give in.

Going home to change may not have been the best idea, since it gave you enough time to realise what you were doing and how much you really didn't want to go but you knew your coworkers wouldn't accept your cancelation. So instead you made yourself look presentable, good even.

Things had been difficult to say the least over the last month, while things at work were great, mentally everything was horribly. It had been a month since you and Spencer broke up. A month since the last time the two of you talked.

He had called a few times, but you could never bring yourself to answer despite how badly you wanted to talk to him, some night you would spend hours unable to sleep, staring at his contact, although you never went through will calling him, too scared he wouldn't answer.

Once dressed you left, calling an uber because you knew it was a bad idea to even take your car -- the whole point was to drink, and you would need to drink. As much as you loved your coworkers, you could only handle so much social interaction without liquor in your system.

Arriving, you noticed the group of your coworkers waiting for you outside. You pushed a smile to your lips as you approached them. You had many coworkers of course, but you had your bunch who you worked with closely, the ones here with you now.

Elise was your work best friend, you and her worked side by side everyday. She was the one who convinced you to come out. Ethan was another one who you worked with closely, but weren't nearly as close with. Frank was older, he was almost like the father of your job, and then there was Chelsea who was literally franks daughter, she was nice, easy to get along with.

"Theres they are!!" Elise said excitedly, you appreciated the way they all dressed up. You were met with a bundle of flowers, being held out by Ethan. "We got you these, as a congrats present" He smile.

You're entire face warmed as your chest did too. You were lucky to be surrounded by a group of people who cared as much as they did. "Aw, Thank you guys." You smiled widely as you took the flowers, not knowing what you were going to do with them inside the bar -- but you figured you'd worry about that later.

You followed them inside the bar, instantly finding a table. Everything sunk into place, everyone talking and chatty after ordering drinks and a round of shots, -- it was great.

But there was something missing.

You tried not to think about it as you swirled your straw around your glass, filled with alcohol. "You look bored" You turned your head to face Elise. You pushed a soft chuckle pass your lips, shaking your head.

"Im not bored" You denied, because you weren't. You were just waiting and hoping that the pit of empitiness in your stomach would disapear so you could enjoy yourself. She frowned, "Come on, Lets go get shots" She said, offering her hand which you took gracefully.

As you walked over to the table where your coworkers were sitting at to find out if they also wanted another round of shots or not, Elise grew sidetracked, helping Chelsea out with the zipper of her dress that was breaking.

"Ill come with you" Ethan opted, making you smile gratefully as you thanked him. The two of you wandered through the bar, through the crowd of people before you finally reached the bar.

You and ethan made small talk as you waited for the bartender. When he finally came, Ethan ordered. A round of tequila shots. The bartender nodded, it was busy -- so he was doing everything fast. "I am not drinking tequila!!" You gasped as you looked at Ethan.

"Yeah you are" He smiled back.

The smile stayed on your face, "Tequila makes me sad" You said honestly. He pouted dramatically, although you can tell it was sarcastic. "Well we cant have that" He sighed just as dramatically, "I promise if you do get sad, we will make sure to cheer you up"

You smiled but couldn't help but doubt his words -- you knew what you'd get sad about, and you weren't sure anything he did would cheer you up from a sadness like that. The one you could feel in your whole body, every movement.

"Important night?" The bartender asked, as he poured the shots. You went to deny it, not wanting the attention but Ethan spoke before you could. "Yep" He said popping the P, "Pretty girl here got a promotion" He said, squeezing your shoulder softly.

You forced out a chuckle as the bartender congratulated you. Pretty girl was the nickname your coworkers had given you -- it was teasing at first and it started from Elise, but it kind of just stuck.

You got your shots and walked back through the bar holding the tray carefully, as you returned to the table you immediantly got a bad feeling in your stomach, something was off, something was wrong. You could see it in Elise's face as she looked at you.

"What?" You chuckled, furrowing your eyebrows as you placed the tray down on the table. She looked almost guilty, as she shook her head, brushing it off. "Nothing" She said, reaching out for a shot.

Your concern and confusion only grew. "What?" You asked again, there was obviously something wrong. You noticed Chelsea looking in a certain direction, the same direction Elise's eyes kept drifting over to.

Your eyebrows furrowed deeper as you turned your head to look in the direction they were, despite Elise' protests. You almost wish you listened. You felt your entire heart sink.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him -- Spencer Reid. He was already looking at you when you turned your head. You stomach dropped so far you swore you could feel in in your pinky toe.

You heard your name, but you could hardly pull your eyes away from him. He looked good. So good it made your head spin in a million different directions at once. Hearing your name again you finally pulled your eyes away from his, turning your head to face Elise who had concern lacing her features.

"Oh- Gosh- Are you okay?" She rushed.

You felt like your chest had been stepped on. You didn't say anything, instead reaching for the shot glass that remained, and downing it instantly. "I need to get drunk." You muttered.

"Whos that?" Ethan asked, he wasn't quite as caught up in your love life as Elise and Chelsea were. Chelsea scoffed. "Her ex, He is an ass" She said, Elise was quick to nod in agreement. Frank stood minding his own business, but you knew he was listening, he was always listening.

"He's not" You defened, because he wasn't. If there was an ass in the breakup, it was you. You weren't sure what sucked more.

Before Chelsea or Elise could say anything you spoke first, "Can we go get more drinks-- and move closer to the bar, I think ill be going there a lot" You muttered, grabbing the boquet of flowers you had been given.

Everyone was quick to agree, taking their stuff before finding an empty table closer to the bar.

You did exactly as you thought you would -- 4 drinks later, you were a lot mor tipsy but nothing seemed to take the pressure off your chest or cool the heat that Spencer eyes left on you everytime you looked over to see him already looking.

When everyone was engrossed in coversation you excused yourself to the bar, feeling the need for another drink or ten. When you literally asked for the most alcoholic drink possible, the bartender laughed but agreed.

"Congraulations" You swore your heart dropped at the voice. Your hands froze in place and you could feel the sweat building on the back of your neck. You turned your head, finally facing him.

Your eyes ran over his features -- his hair had grown out, it looked good. You wanted to tell him that but you couldn't. "H-How do you.." You wondered how he knew about your promotion, you were sure it hadn't been posted anywhere.

He rolled his eyes, nudging his head towards the table where your coworkers sat, you turned you head to look at them, noticing Ethan's and Elise's eyes on you and Spencer. "Your boyfriend isn't exactly quiet." He muttered, there was something spiteful about the way he spoke.

You whipped your head around to face Spencer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before the realistion dawned on you -- He had heard Ethan tell the bartender about your promotion earlier. "He isn't my boyfriend--Why do you even care." You huffed.

Spencer scoffed quietly, "Yeah Im sure, The flowers and 'pretty girl' really prove that" His tone was laced with jealously. He was jealous. You shook your head as you pulled your eyes away from his face. "It's been a month" He muttered, quieter.

You frowned at the mention at how long it had been since the two of you broke up. "I am well aware of how long its been" You held back from calling him Spence, it was like muscle memory. "The flowers were from all of them" You defended, although there was no reason you needed to defend nor explain yourself to him. "And pretty girl- its a joke-- they all call me that." You muttered.

"I called you that."

His tone still held so much jealously but sounded so much sadder. It made your stomach clench on nothing but the alcohol you had consumed, you turned your head to face him before looking away again, unable to handle the way his expression pulled on your heartstrings.

"I know" You said just as quietly.

The bartender handed you your drink with an apology of how long it took -- you hadn't even noticed. Drink now in your hands yet you couldn't find it in yourself to move. You could smell Spencer's cologne and it was consuming your senses and making your mind fog.

Spencer ordered his own drink after the bartender asked, before he turned to look at you again. "I called." He said.

You wanted to cry-- you wanted to sink into the pit in your stomach and stay there forever. You felt yourself grow dizzy -- he made you dizzy. "I know" You said quietly, scared if you spoke any louder your voice would give out on you. it broke your heart to be standing here next to him, when he had no idea you loved him, when you had no idea if he ever loved you-- let alone if he still did.

He didn't say anything, you assumed it was because he didn't know what to say. He knew you were actively ignoring his calls-- What was there to say to that.

Spencer got handed his drink, he muttered a quiet thanks, but made no movement to leave his place next to you, you didn't either. Neither of you said anything. You felt as if your feet were glued in place -- although you weren't sure if you wanted to move either. It had been a month since you had seen him, and as much as it gutted you to think about, you didn't want to leave yet just incase this really was the last time.

"He isn't my boyfriend, he- he isn't anything more than a friend." You said again, although you didn't look at him, keeping your head down as you sipped your drink through your straw. You didn't need to push so hard for him to understand -- but the last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you had moved on that quick, it almost offended you that he genuinely believed you did.

He opened his mouth to reply, but felt a hand on his back, cutting him off. He looked behind him to see Derek. "What's taking so long, Reid" He asked, a teasing smile on his face. You looked behind you at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes his smile fell slightly as he realised what was taking Spencer so long.

"Hi derek" You pushed a smile to his lips - of course Spencer was here with his team, you should've realised that. They probably just got back from a case, which explained Spencer's business attire, but he wore that more often then not anyways.

"Hey!! How are you doing!" He smiled back, opening his arms to hug you gently. It was friendly a simple. You were close with a lot of Spencer's friends and team, being his plus one to everything for months. Penelope had reached out after you and Spencer broke up, but just like with Spencer you couldn't bring yourself to reply.

"Im okay, how are you?" You asked. You could feel Spencer's eyes on your face and it left a burning sensation where his eyes laid as you pulled away from Derek's hug. "Im good! We've missed you around shortcake" It was a nickname, because of a strawberry shortcake shirt you had worn one time when out with Spencer.

You just smiled in response. You missed them too, a lot. They were your friends, and you hated how you lost that and Spencer all at once, but they were his friends first. "I'll leave you guys be." You muttered, forcing a smile to your lips as you avoided Spencer's gaze, pushing off the bar.

Spencer said your name and it made your head spin, it felt so natural falling from his lips, like it belonged there. If you had to pick only one person to say your name for the rest of your life, it would be Spencer.

You kept walking none the less, holding your drink in your hand as you approached the table. You put it down gently as Chelsea and Elise were instantly at your side, asking what happened or if you were okay.

"I think Im going to go home" You muttered as you felt the all familiar tingle in the bridge of your nose, matching the lump in your throat and burn in the back of your eyes. It was too much.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Frank asked, the fatherily instincts coming into play when he noticed the look on your face -- there was no convincing you to stay. You just shook your head, "Im okay, Thank you" You muttered, as you began grabbing your stuff.

"I'll walk you out" Ethan offered, but you were quick to shake your head. You didn't need to look to know Spencer's eyes were on you from across the bar, the last thing you wanted was to only deepen his concern by leaving with Ethan. "I really just want to be alone." You said, pushing a half hearted smile to your lips, he frowned but nodded.

You said your goodbyes before pushing through the people in the bar towards the door. Once outside, it dawned on you how hot you were, the cold air giving your flushed cheeks a cooling sensation. You dragged your hand over your face as you tried to process what had just happened without bursting into tears.

You opened the uber app on your phone, wanting to get home to wallow in every emotion you had been pushing down for the last month. You should've known tonight was going to end badly.

"Theres been over 3,900 cases of sexual assult or physical violence from ubers"

You turned your head to see Spencer standing at the door to the bar, not far from you but not close. The street wasn't busy, it was dark and only lit by the streetlights.

"Thats less than one percent" You muttered, pulling your gaze away from him. "Who said I was getting an uber?" You asked, despite the fact that you were, it baffled you how he seemed to know everything all the time.

"You're alone, I cant see your car anywhere and the app is open on your phone" He said as if it was nothing. He was a profiler for godsake, of course he picked up on the tiniest things.

You sighed, closing your phone you placed it in your bag, "So what?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest - now that the heat had somewhat worn off the cold air was leaving goosebumps over your arms.

"So, let me drive you home." He said.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him, shaking your head. "No. Its fine. I think I can handle less than one percent" You muttered, turning away from him again when the heat began rising to your cheeks again under his gaze.

You could hardly handle standing a foot away from him, you doubted you would be able to last a ten minute drive back to your house in the car next to him, you were sure the tension would suffocate you within seconds.

"Why do you do that" He asked taking a step closer to you. You were already resting with your back against the wall, there was no where for you to back away to even if you wanted to. You furrowed your eyebrows as you met his eyes, he looked sad.

"Do what?" You asked as your voice hitched, the pit in your stomach only deepening the more you looked at him, the closer he got the tighter your chest grew, the more he spoke the more your cheeks heated.

He sighed, "Push me away!" He raised his voice slightly, not in a way of anger but pure frustration. He was so frustrated.

"I don- We broke up Spencer" You reminded.

He rolled his eyes, "I know that. Trust me I know that." He muttered under his breath as he got closer to you. "You did it our entire relationship, pushed me away, held back, and then you broke up with me, why do you do that?" He said, brows furrowed as he genuinely tried to understand.

"You know why we broke up" You muttered quietly.

He threw his arms up in distress. "No- I really don't-" He said, before dragging his hand through his hair, only making it messy. You frowned, shaking your head as you reminded him. "We were both busy -- we hardly saw each other, our heads were in different places" your voice raised to the same level as his

"My head was with you!" He shook his head, "My head was always with you!" He sighed, he wasn't shouting, not really, but it was loud enough to match your level.

Your lips parted but you didn't have anything to say. Your head was spinning at the intensity of the coversation, at him -- so close, his cologne and after shave making your stomach feel sickly.

"I thought-" You ran your hand over your face as tears brimmed your eyes.

"You thought, you didn't ask me-- you just- broke up with me" He was shouting now. You genuinely thought your heart had fallen out of your chest. "You pushed me away, and then left like it meant nothing, like it all meant nothing." His voice was breaking with every word as his voice rasied

"It didn't- i didn't think it meant nothing" You were shouting too, and tears ran down your face -- you were unable to help it, each drop hotter and heavier than the last.

"Just be honest, I just- I just need you to be honest, please" He was on the verge of tears himself, and you hated it. You hated the way his voice was breaking, the way his hand was grabbing his shirt, pressing against his chest as if this conversation was bringing him physical pain-- like it was to you.

"You want me to be honest?" You asked, you were now the one stepping closer to him, you were the one shouting -- not out of anger, but you couldn't better express the way this conversation was all consuming every part of your body, your mind, your stomach, your chest.

"I love you Spencer" Your voice cracked as the words came out, "I love you so much, it hurts. It physically hurts when you are gone, when I was spending everyday worrying you weren't going to come home, I love you so much that I thought me worrying about you was unfair because you love what you do, and I was constantly in the way of that. I love you so much that i thought if i broke up with you, you'd be happier -- I thought the how much I loved you would stop hurting." you were practiclly sobbing, you would have been embarassed if you mind was able to focus on anything other than the boy in front of you.

"It didn't, its actually gotten worse because everyday I wake up and your not there, and I still worry about you just as much -- more, i worry about you more. Everyday I wake up and im completely heartbroken. God everyday I wake up and Im still inlove with you, " You continued on your tangent, "I love you so much Spencer"

You didn't even have time to breath before you felt cold hands on either side of your face and the feeling of his lips on yours, you could taste the alcohol on his lips. It was familiar and safe and warm. Your hands found their way to his face, pulling him in closer to you. The kiss was messy and passionate and everything you had missed so much, it was the sort of kiss that made every thought in your brain disapear, it made your knees feel weak and your toes curl in your way to uncomfortable shoes.

You tried to pull away but his lips chased yours, bring you back into him and you didn't make any movement, only kissing him back until you ran out of air, feeling lightheaded. You stepped out of his grasp as you tried to regain balance.

"Ill teach, its not an issue i've wanted to teach, god ill stop working all together if it means you'll come back" He said out of breath, eyes never leaving yours. You opened your mouth but he cut you off. "I love you, I've loved you since the day that I met you." he was huffing out words as he stepped back closer to you, invading your space and you couldn't complain.

"I don't- I don't want you to have to do that, you love working." you said breathlessly, shaking your head. You didn't want your relationship to mean him stop doing what he loved.

"I want you" He said, voice cracking. "I love my job but I love you." He said it like he couldn't get enough of finally saying it. "I'll work it out so you can come everytime we have a case, please I love you" He was begging.

"What does this mean Spence" You said, heart beating out of your chest. He just shook his head. "Who cares! I love you, You love me. I will do anything, just.. stay - let me stay." He said, grabbing your hand.

"I love you" You repeated.

"I love you" He said back.

"Where do we go from here?" You ask, looking up at him with squinted eyes, you were sure your makeup was a mess, and you looked horrible but there was so much love and hope in Spencer's eyes you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"Let me drive you home." He said. You knew that meant it was the beggining. You knew he meant that he didn't know but he wanted to try. He was begging and there was no way you were going to let him go again.

"Okay."

[sxorpiomooon]

YOU AS A CELEBRITY - PAC READING

Paid readings (tarot and astrology)

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

pile 1-

the vibe I'm getting is of someone who will get chosen purely on the basis of luck and the potential that they might have and then they'll have to put all the hardwork. Unlike other people your hardwork will come after you get picked. This reminds me sort of the anoy yai situation but a k-pop idol situation also keeps coming to my mind. I also see you being a household name and people or families will love seeing you together and I also see you gaining popularity in your home town. you might be a cancer placement if you took this pile, very ambitious people and I see you being mostly a loner because of all the jealousy and competition that will surround you. I see young people especially having a liking to you lmao there's youthful energy here I also see you guys being the most popular out of these three lmao mainly bc I see you guys going into every field and the promotion will be really good I keep having visions of you sitting in tv shows talking also interacting with the general public.

Pile 2

Ooo people will love you, you will be the star of everyone's eyes. I see you might also be an encouraging and inspiring figure to people and people looking up to you. I see this pole might give really good speeches lmao. I also see you guys becoming popular since day 1 and getting tons of sponsorships, pr packages etc. however I see alot of chaos I think the popularity will of course come with its own disadvantages. You guys might be in people's eyes too much all the time I'm sort of reminded of the Britney situation and I see you guys losing your interest and getting just really exhausted because of this. There is also legacy here this reminds me of the Paris Hilton and Kim k situation she started to gain popularity by being around her in the beginning I see your fame coming from someone else in the beginning be it your family members or friends this is like a pile of star kids someone who might already know popular people or soon will. I'm honestly getting leo vibes but could also be venus ruled signs

Pile 3

I see this pile working hard it gives the vibe of someone who knows that this is want they want and they have to do there is no luck here simply hard work and dedication. I also feel as if this pile might either get scammed in the beginning when they'll be establishing yourself or might just come across alot of tricky people in their life testing their passion. You might also gain appreciation from people for your donations and charity I see this pile speaking up about issues alot and using their platform to spread awareness. I see the fame of this pile taking some time. I see you guys working really hard and in the end it will pay off. You guys will be humble and generous. All the fame that this pile will get will come from their own hardwork it will not be handed to them they will make their own place. Aries, Taurus, Virgo placements i think

thankyou!!!

[sixosix]

PLASTIC FLOWERS | LYNEY

i. summary the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader

ii. tags 1.8k words, fluff, reader is a little slow but hey that’s what 9-to-5 does to someone, pining lyney, awkward flirting, and a lot of wilted flowers im sorry…

You’ve heard of Lyney and Lynette in passing before. You might’ve rushed past one of their street performances once or twice, or maybe you stumbled upon flyers promoting their grand shows fluttering past. However, today, they are the center of every discussion, particularly Lyney, from your gushing coworkers. They swoon about how charming the young man was to them, and how exceptionally talented twins are.

You start to feel a little left out. You want to witness what all the excitement is all about, too. Your nine-to-five has you rushing back and forth the streets of Fontaine like there’s no tomorrow—and to your defense, with all the rumors and prophecies floating around, it might as well be that case.

Afternoon. Nearly evening. Your legs feel like water, liquid, and unable to keep themselves upright. You’re like a zombie walking back to your humble abode, drained of human life from too much human interaction.

A round of applause has you slowing your steps, your attention pulled towards a small crowd as if struck by a magnetic force.

A young man stands at the center, grinning devilishly as the crowd once again erupts into gasps of awe. He clutches a deck of cards in his hand, the classic image of what comes to mind when you think of magicians. Yet, you find yourself unable to move. It might be your water-legs; it might be how the man has everyone spellbound.

“Thank you, everyone!” he says, and the spell is broken at once. Was it a spell? It felt like one. “Be sure to come next week to Lynette and I’s performance at the Opera Epiclese, alright?” So he is Lyney.

Witnessing his elegance and heart-stealing smirk, you at least now know that your coworkers were certainly telling the truth.

The crowd filters out one by one. You do the same, wondering how much the tickets would cost. Hopefully no more than your usual dinner; that would mean you’d have to eat frozen bread for an entire evening.

“Wait, wait!”

You turn at the frantic exclamation, startled when Lyney is looking directly at you and rushing toward you. Panicked, you quickly scan your surroundings, only to find that there’s no one else he could possibly be referring to.

Just you.

“Hello,” you murmur begrudgingly once he’s at a close distance.

“Hi,” he says back, a little breathless. “You missed the show earlier.”

“I—I did.” Is he seriously talking to you? “But don’t worry! I saw enough. It was really cool!” Really? It was really cool?

He relaxes, his smile turning pleased. Lyney’s gaze feels heavy when you’re the only one holding onto it. “That’s a shame. I’ve seen you around before, zipping through. I won’t let you slip through my fingers this time around.”

His voice is smooth. You find yourself liking the lilac of his eyes.

At your stunned silence, Lyney continues, “Here, watch my hand closely, alright?”

You nod obediently, mostly to conceal how flustered his presence is making you feel. It feels as if his voice is right beside your ears, or it might just be how it seems like the world quiets down for this moment.

He closes his palm. You hear him huff a sweet laugh. You get distracted and glance up, though it seems it was a mistake. He grins at you knowingly, eyes twinkling—his stupid, dark eyes. You look back down, and a flower has magically appeared square on his palm.

It’s a flower you’re unfamiliar with, but it’s beautiful and smells sweet so you find yourself uncaring of whatever it could mean.

He stares patiently.

You blink, dumb-struck. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says with a dazzling grin.

“Oh, thank you, but I— I really don’t know how to take care of these things, and I’m so busy, I don’t know if I should—”

You reject it. Which, in hindsight, was most rude.

Lyney tilts his head, smiling like you’re some cute cat he found passing by—and that gaze has your words dying on your tongue. “I’m not giving it to you for you to feel burdened with the responsibility of taking care of it. Trust me, I just want you to have it.”

You look at him, uncertainty flashing in your expression. “You don’t want to give it to someone else…?”

“Why would I? I saved this one especially for you,” the sweet talker says.

You highly doubt his words, but it’s nice to hear nevertheless. With a bashful smile, you take the flower and vow to yourself to take care of it as much as you can. It’s the only flower you’ve received your entire life.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He lights up impossibly, standing out so easily against the crowd. Just like that, you’re captivated.

The next day, Lyney reappears in your life. You're beginning to suspect that his hat conceals an infinite stockpile of these roses, and maybe that's the true magic: the enigma of Lyney's never-ending supply.

This time around, he’s loitering the streets without plans for any performances, however small. Though, he still entertains you in different ways.

“My work’s not too nice,” you tell him when he asks why you look tired, all too aware of your sore feet and cheeks from straining smiles all day. “I don’t know how you performers do it non-stop. I feel like I could just sleep on this sidewalk.”

“It might be helping that I love doing what I do,” Lyney supplies after a thoughtful hum. It’s still a little surreal having the man printed in posters and pictures all over The Steambird is now casually walking alongside you, but it’s nice. You feel your world has just brightened up a little—the new change of pace painting over the dull back and forth you’ve been living through for a while.

“Hey,” Lyney starts, as your eyes flick up from the ground to him. He’s holding another flower.

You smile as you gingerly take it from his fingers, skin brushing against his glove-free hands. “You’re helping the flower shops thrive, that’s for sure.”

“What can I say? I’m wonderful like that.”

You laugh, but it quickly dies down when you catch a glimpse of how Lyney is staring at you so openly with a bit of awe.

You clear your throat, looking away.

Lyney does the same as you find your face heating up. “Sorry.”

“Um,” scrambling for a change of topic, you say, “Are you trying to get me to watch the show you and your sister are holding next week?”

“What?” Lyney blinks, caught off guard. He smiles lopsidedly as you await for an answer. “No, I’m talking to you because I like you. And here I thought I was making myself obvious.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit slow,” you say, in a daze at his blunt confession.

That was nothing (that has to be). That was probably just your imagination, honestly—fantasizing about a handsome face, a small braid, and a mischievous grin. And you definitely don’t find yourself lying awake at night thinking about it.

As always, Lyney comes with a flower in hand. And you find out that he wasn’t lying when he said he saves a special flower for you.

You’re not sure how it seamlessly became a routine with him. At times, you wonder if he’s actually keeping track of the roses if you haven’t been throwing them to the trash. You wouldn't be able to deny it; you eventually would have to discard a once again graying rose, no matter how heartbreaking the parting is.

This time, you’re prepared. You've been studying up, like a lovesick high school student devouring dating magazines during your spare moments at work. The rose will still most likely wilt unfairly fast with how you’re barely a presence in your own home; sleeping soundly as soon as you arrive.

Lyney is smiling softly as he gives this one to you, silent. Though that’s probably because you’re raving on about how you swear that the next ones he’ll give will live longer if you figure out how to do it right.

He likes doing that—staring at you like watching a film play even though he’s the one on stage more often than not.

“Do you know what all those flowers I gave you mean?” he asks as you’re twirling it around and counting the petals. They’re still bright pink, fading to yellow at its tips. You shake your head. It could mean anything, really. You haven’t gotten to that part of the book yet. “My feelings for you,” he says. “I give them to you every day so you’re reminded of it.”

Your finger catches on one of the petals, your skin burning. “…Is that what you think? I feel horrible; the flowers you’ve given me all die in a day or two.”

Lyney laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“How else can I show you I’m not just casting your feelings aside?”

You turn to Lyney, wondering why he suddenly went silent. Only then, you see how he has his face buried in his palm, a dazed smile peeking out from what’s visible. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“...Sorry.”

He recovers fast. “Don’t be sorry.” Lyney holds your jaw in a precise grip, keeping your gaze focused on him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s only the next morning do you realize that the petals haven’t changed at all. You’re not sure why you haven’t noticed earlier.

Then again, you should’ve realized when he brought up what they mean so suddenly, that slick bastard.

Lyney sees you around the afternoon, and immediately he sees something new around your collar, probably because he keeps staring at it.

Lyney pulls you closer with a hand on the small of your back, and the other inspecting your brand-new necklace. “Is this…?”

It was a bit difficult to craft your own accessory, but you tried nevertheless. If Lyney goes out of his way to purchase different kinds of flowers, the least you can do is show him that each one makes you as happy as the first one did.

“You said they’re kind of like your feelings, right?” you say, unsure as to why you’re whispering. Lyney’s expression looks a little fragile. “So I made them into something to remind me of you every day.”

He presses his face onto your neck, and you nearly lose balance, holding onto the back of his head to keep yourself upright. “You’re too cute, amour. My heart can’t handle all of this,” he weeps dramatically.

( “Close your mouth, Lyney. You’re drooling,” Lynette says as she follows his gaze, watching you flutter past.

Lyney’s mouth snaps shut, wiping at his lips. He frowns. “I wasn’t even drooling.” He shakes his head. “Nevermind that—do you know who that was?”

“No,” Lynette says simply. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to figure out eventually.” )

lyney went back to giving you real flowers after that btw

this was inspired by me daydreaming about lyney’s character quest and remembering that he literally gave us that flower accessory

[aurekiwi]

Your love life within the next 6th months?

𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞 | follow me | support me (ko-fi)

Pile 1 ; Pile 2 ; Pile 3

Be aware that this pick-a-card(picture) reading consists of only three piles, meaning that it won't resonate for everyone. Some of you may not have a relationship within the next six months. This PAC reading was for a very specific audience. Open it only if you feel drawn to opening this reading. Please let your intuition guide you when deciding which pile to choose!

Any form of feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Pile 1

Hello Pile 1! Within the next six months, you may feel pretty overwhelmed due to your work and personal responsibilities that you might not really a strong pull towards having a romantic relationship with anyone. It can also be that your life is a bit turbulent and you don't really have the time or energy to meet with someone. I do see that you might fall in love with someone or have a big crush on someone, but it feels more like a situationship or an interaction that'll leave you feeling upset and disappointed in the end. Whatever romantic interaction you have with this future person may drag out for a bit of time but unfortunately end on a not-so-desired note- you'll have to move on from this bond. You may meet this person through your workplace or your school, or in a particular setting where you need to work with someone on a mutual goal or a project. You may establish a bond with this person initially through mutual interests and compatible personalities that is discovered through interacting with this person while working together.

Pile 2

Hello Pile 2! I think some of you may already be in a relationship and some may have someone in mind at the moment and have thoughts to establish a romantic relationship with a person of interest. This person of interest seems to be surrounded by lots of Pentacles energy. For some of you, I'm feeling boss, a leader of some organization/company, some kind of authority figure. For some of you, I'm feeling a coworker/peer/classmate. You may feel that the two of you are compatible and ignore earlier signs of turbulence. It feels unbalanced. The relationship feels like there's a focus on infatuation rather than something more grounded and secure. You may put in way too much time and energy that isn't reciprocated, leaving you feeling emotionally burnt out, upset, and unheard. Some of you may have the relationship consumed of sexual relations with a lack of communication. Some may turn to substances or some unhealthy addictions to cope. Some may struggle with co-dependence or excessive trauma-bonding. I also sense knowing how to hurt the other person and saying something that'll hurt the other person on purpose to establish power within the relationship. Overall, I think the relationship will be short-lived and end within the next six months. After the relationship, you'll find that you feel really free, like you can do anything you want and roam free, a breath of fresh air almost. You're asked to reestablish balance in your life after the separation, to start anew as the kind of person you truly are rather than matching someone's likes/type. You are much more than just XYZ's lover. Stay away from substances or any other unhealthy addictions. Go out with friends, with loved ones that make you happy. Have a great time with those who truly care about you and your well-being.

Pile 3

Hello Pile 3! Within the next six months, you may find yourself struggling with lots of overthinking, internal conflicts, or arguments with those who're around you. I looked into what it might be about, and it seems like it'll be arguments about how you're going forward in terms of life decisions, it can also be able something related to career such as a promotion gone wrong, rejection from a program that you thought you'd be getting into, etc. Lots of turbulence and unfortunately just a chaotic time where it feels like the ground beneath you just opened up and you're completely taken aback by everything that is happening. Within this dark and stressful time, however, you'll be uniting with someone who brings you balance, strength, hope, and motivation. A new relationship, a new lover, or the return of a lover who has been your lover for lifetimes. This person will help you through a very hard time. They will be very patient with you and show their support for you so that you don't feel alone. They'll be there to listen to you when you feel frustrated about your current circumstances, kind of help you start moving again. They'll show you the power and control that you have over your own life, that you can do anything and become anything that you want to be. I think they'll help you recover your relationship with your inner voice, your conscience, the "you" that you ignored for a long time due to the people that surrounded you at the time who made you feel you had no control over your own life. I think this will be a very healing relationship and one that is very nurturing and balanced. This sounds like a beautiful bond!

[roseykat]

TITLE: Table Manners and Bible Studies

PAIRING: Jeongin x reader

SUMMARY: Jeongin, a churchgoer who is also a very sexual person, likes to immerse both you and himself in the realm of sensory play, among other things as well.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: themes of BDSM centred around sensory play, soft dom Jeongin, explicit language, use of ice cubes, body-safe hot candle wax, a feather, blindfold, safe and consensual play, nipple stimulated orgasm, mentions of religion (no specific religion is being mentioned here but the concept is that Jeongin is religious for the purposes of this work).

MASTERLIST

He goes to church. That’s all you know about one of the guys in your class who always dresses well, dons cute glasses and seems well put together. He’s an intriguing one among the masses of students that attend and even with the volume of people, he still stood out to you even if he was quiet.

However, it was never in your interest to approach a guy like him. He and his four friends, all from the same church, seemed relatively lovely and all kept to themselves. From your perspective, it appeared as if two of the girls really liked him. If they did, you don’t blame them. Whoever he was seemed to be sweet.

“Still eyeing him up?” Your friend Minho pokes you in the ribs with his finger, lulling you out of your thoughts.

“I’m not eyeing him up,” you snap defensively, averting your stare away from his group to refocus on your lunch with him.

“Just say he’s hot,” he encourages. “If I’m willing to admit it, then you should.”

“You think he’s hot?” 

“And you don’t?” He questions back, almost offended that you didn’t assume otherwise. 

“I suppose that means something coming from a whore such as yourself,” you remember with a sigh. 

Minho nods in agreement with your statement, “and as a whore, I’m telling you he’s hot. So why not go for him?” 

“That’s not who I want though,” you say to him.

A cackle nearly breaks out from his mouth, “that’s right. So how is the hunt for one of those dom boyfriends going anyway? Isn’t that the type you’re looking for?”

“He doesn’t have to be, but it would help significantly,” you answer truthfully. “I just think that would be the best way to get my foot in the door for getting into BDSM.”

“I seriously don’t know where you got that idea from, but you don’t need to go searching for a boyfriend who’s into BDSM to get into it,” Minho truthfully informs you. “There are sites and apps where you can connect to doms and go from there. But if you do, don’t just jump at the first dom that you see. Always do background checks.”

You sometimes forget that Minho himself is in the BDSM scene. He has been for a while and for as long as you’ve known him, you’ve always been interested in what he does. From his stories, they sound exciting and riveting; exactly the kind of thing you want to try out to make your sexual life a little more lively. 

“I know that,” you whine. “If not that, then I don’t really know where to begin.” 

“Well, we all start somewhere,” he says with a hint of optimism. “Since you’re interested still, there’s a BDSM convention at the end of this week. If you want to get your foot in the door with it, I reckon you should go.”

“A convention?” You ask with intruigue. “What do they host there?”

“They’re there to promote safe BDSM to people and have a variety of pop up stores on site that sell anything related to it,” he answers. “I’m supposed to be going but, I’ve got something else on at the same time. In fact you can have my concession.”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

“Yeah, it’s already printed off,” he says. “I’ll give it to you on Thursday.”

It was a good idea at first, but come the day of the event, your nerves were shot. It was your first time being surrounded by anything like this. Particularly by yourself. It was a bit stereotypical to assume that the convention was run something along the lines of seeing naked people tied up, some in cages, or live scenes taking place in front of crowds. 

That wasn’t the case at all. It was almost like a niche grocery store where the locals gather to buy homegrown fruit and veggies. Some part of that concept helped calm a few nerves.

Once you receive your concession band, you start around the front area of the pop-up stores. People were lining up to see demonstrations of shibari methods and most were interested in buying a series of items for the bedroom. 

They were all displayed like sea creatures at a fish market, waiting to be bought. From cattail butt plugs, clover nipple clamps, juicy erotica novels - one of which you picked up - lengths of different coloured ropes, wooden floggers, riding crops, and so much more. 

Away from all the chaos at the stalls was an area called BDSMC; BDSM and coffee. It was a way to set people up with potential doms and or subs. Each individual looking for a buddy would order a coffee or drink with a green cup that had either letter on it; D for dom or S for sub. Red cups were exclusively 'do not approach' because the person either didn’t want to engage or they may already have a partner and are just there for some good coffee. 

It was an awesome set-up and had you thinking about heading over to maybe find someone who would be interested. However, you stored away that thought as you continued to have a look around. 

One thing that was painfully obvious to you was the fact that people weren’t there by themselves. They were either there with a group or their partner, making you feel even more out of place and slightly overwhelmed. But you weren’t going to tap out early. Minho gave you his ticket not only because he couldn’t attend, but also because he wants you to experience what you’re looking for, for yourself.

So you scour out the stores under the guise of your own interest, coming across a few which struck that interest. There was one store tailored specifically to pain play, a heavy aspect of BDSM. Another stall had all to do with sexual health, consent and BDSM - not necessarily selling anything, but just there to answer any questions that people may have. 

One place had caught you attention, a store all to do with sensory play and deprivation - a term in which you’ve came across within the realm of research into BDSM.

In nicely orgasnised lines were individual packets of silk blindfolds in a variety of different colours. There were boxes of body safe candles, most likely for temperature play, noise cancelling headphones, sleek metal handcuffs, and other items that had you wondering how they work. 

“Hello, anything I can help you with or just browsing today?” One of the shop owners approaches you from behind the table. 

“Oh, just browsing thank you,” you reply back to her.

“No worries, let me know if you need anything,” she smiles back at you and walks down to the other end of the long table. 

“Hello, do you have any of these in black?” A person beside you asks to another store keeper. 

Out of sheer interest, you briefly look up at the person just as an unspoken social acknowledgement while the owner tends to their new customer. But to your absolute shock and surprise, the person enquiring happened to be someone very familiar.

The jet black hair, distinct glasses, the trendy casual outfit...

…there was no way.

“We should do. I’ll have a look around in some of our storage containers just behind the back for you,” she says helpfully. 

“Thank you,” the customer responds. 

It was definitely him, and whilst your eyes had been glued to his presence for such a long time, his gaze catches onto it. 

“Hey,” he spoke in a mousey volume.

You stall in your step a bit just as you were about to walk away to remain unknown, but the angelic purity in the tone of his voice lulled you back. You’d feel bad if you didn’t greet him too. 

“Hey,” you say to him awkwardly. “How are you?”

“I’m good thank you, yourself?” He asks back. 

“Yeah, good thanks. I know you, sort of. Aren’t you in my class?” 

It was a useless question to ask considering you’ve spent too many times looking at him to know that it’s definitely him. That distinct soft expression couldn’t pass you by. The only thing different is that he wasn't swarmed by his usual collective of friends.

A small smile spreads on his face, “yeah. I’ve seen you here and there. You usually sit close to the front.” 

“That’s right,” you nod, bewildered that he knows who you are and where you sit during class. “So…what brings you…here of all places?”

Jeongin shrugs with a smile, “interest. You?”

You nod, “also interest.”

The lady pops back from behind the screen with some items, “you might be out of luck. We’ve only got grey and white left but there’s a couples' one for you and your partner here.”

Your mind stutters upon hearing those words come out of the lady’s mouth, “oh he’s not - we’re not-“

“What about any more of these? Preferably in black as well?” Jeongin picks up a baby pink coloured blindfold and presents it to the woman. He seemed to have saved that awkward statement yet wasn’t entirely effected by it as you were.

“I’ll have a look around the back again and see if we’ve got anything,” she says, quickly rushing off.

“Sorry about that,” he says apologetically to her. 

He was as nice as he looked. Almost like a gentle, placid puppy which makes you wonder, how is someone like him at one of these conventions. Specifically, someone who is quite religious. You didn’t want to judge right away, but that was the preface of your observation.

“I take it you’ve never been to one of these before,” he points out as he waits. 

Your shoulders relax defeatedly, someone had finally ripped down your facade, “can you tell?”

“Just a little bit,” he grins. “But props to you for coming here on your own by the looks of it.”

“A friend of mine recommended I go so I thought I should,” you respond, eyeing up some of the other products.

He nods engagingly, “really? Why did they recommend it to you if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Just…looking to get into BDSM,” you reply honestly, feeling comfortable enough to talk to him about this. Plus there was no point in hiding your intentions given where you are now. “He said I should go to one of these events, check out the stores, and see how some of this stuff works I suppose.” 

The lady returns from the back with exactly what he requested while also picking up a few extra things before paying for the lot. Your attention fixates on those items, wondering who he uses them on; a pyrex glass dildo, one tube of strawberries and cream flavoured lube, and also a ball gag

Whoever his partner is must be lucky. 

The shopkeeper bags all of the items he paid for in a discrete bag before he thanks her.

“That's a good step, but if you’re a beginner, it’d be best for you to start out small,” he advises just an idea suddenly strikes him. He wonders for a second about whether or not it’s appropriate to ask, but he considers your circumstances and why you’re even here. 

“I figured that. No point in me diving right into the deep end when I can’t swim yet,” you agree. 

“You know, because we’re both here, we should get together sometime so we can talk about these kinds of things. I could show you how all of these work too if you want,” he pitches his suggestion to you, holding up the bag of things that he just purchased. 

You stare up at him, utterly bewildered, “wait, are you serious?”

“Only if you are, otherwise-“

“No!” You cut him off. “I mean, yes - yes I am serious. It’s just, I was shocked that you even asked me.”

He stifles a chuckle as a reaction to you being so oddly yet unforceably cute, “alright then. I’ll give you my number. I’m Jeongin by the way.”

“Jeongin, okay. I’m Y/N.”

It was nice to finally put a name to a handsome face. Jeongin, who was as unsuspecting as the come, had exchanged numbers with you before you both departed. He left you wondering so much more about his personality and particularly his interests with BDSM. It even made you forget to text Minho to tell him how well the convention went.

Right before you decided that you were going to ring him, a text came through to you from Jeongin. 

To you from Jeongin: ‘Hey Y/N, it’s Jeongin. It was nice meeting you the other day. I was wondering if you wanted to catch up over coffee to talk and get to know each other more. If so, when are you free?’

You to Jeongin: ‘Hey Jeongin, it was nice meeting you as well. I’m free in the afternoons throughout the week. We could go for coffee on campus after class if it’s not too far?’

Jeongin to You: ‘Nope, that’s perfect. Shall we say Monday straight after? We can head there together.’

You to Jeongin: ‘Sounds good to me. See you then.’

Jeongin to You: ‘Yup! :)’

With those responses from him in mind, it made looking forward to Monday a little more palatable. Usually, it’s hectic with quizzes, tonnes of readings, and a boring two hour lecture. Meeting up with Jeongin meant you had something to look forward to after class. 

Just as the lecture comes to an end, you look back to the middle row of seats in the centre section of the room as you pack up your things and see Jeongin waving out to you. You wave back, acknowledging that you’ve seen him and watch him say bye to his friends before he makes his way down to you. A couple of them seemed rather puzzled that he was leaving them, but nonetheless, they let him be. 

“Hey Y/N,” he says to you, walking down the steps. “What did you think of that?”

“Boring as per,” you groan. “It made me want to sleep.”

Jeongin laughed, “shall we go before you fall asleep then?”

The pair of you exited the theatre together and headed to one of the nearby cafes on campus. Normally teeming with hungry students, the venue wasn’t as packed as it usually is from the help of classes that run through into lunch. It meant that you and Jeongin were able to receive your drinks relatively quickly in order to sit down and start talking.

“How was your weekend?” He asks you.

You finish bringing your drink down from your lips, “not as exciting as I wished it had been. Mainly just catching up on some of the online work that we were meant to do.”

Jeongin is shaking his head but silently agreeing with you, “I don’t know why they bother giving us tasks to do online.”

“I suppose to make us suffer even more,” you guess. 

“I think you might be right, and since it’s worth credit, we have no choice,” he snickers. “But anyway, on a completely different note, what did you think of your first BDSM event?” 

“Not as daunting as I was expecting it to be,” you answer honestly. “It was pretty pleasant, to say the least, and the people I met were really nice.”

“That’s good to know,” Jeongin nods. “Usually I hear of beginners who get too overwhelmed and never come back. It’s a shame really because they only see the tip of the iceberg.”

“Do you normally attend those events?” You ask him, still immensely intrigued that he even went in the first place. 

“Only when I can,” he responds. “Most of the time, classes and other stuff get in the way, but I’ve found a balance now. What made you want to get into BDSM anyway?”

“A friend of mine is well into that space and I always hear him talking about it. Since then it’s always interested me, so I started doing some research about it,” you answer. “It was the same person who told me to go to that event.”

“Smart choice for doing your research, not many people do and just head straight into something they don’t know,” Jeongin mentally applauds you. “It can turn out to be a really good or really terrible experience for beginners.”

“Yeah, he warned me about that,” you chuckle, just thinking of Minho and what he’s said to you in the past. “What about you? How did you get into BDSM? Sounds like you’re already in that space.”

“I am. I’ve been in it for four years, since the start of my degree,” Jeongin confirms adjusting his black glasses. “I got into it just by interest as well - similar to you, except, I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing someone who was already part of this space so some things I had to learn the hard way.” 

“Then I take it that you’re relatively experienced then,” you respond, inferring an assumption already.

Jeongin smiles shyly, almost like he’s somewhat embarrassed by your comment, “you could say that. Is it right to assume that you’re looking for someone to do scenes with?”

You give a nod, “yes. Just…didn’t know who with.”

“That fits then; given that I have some experience and you haven’t yet, then maybe we do a trial, see if we click, those sorts of aspects. What do you think about that?” He asks you. 

An excitement thumps against your chest, “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” He replies with optimism. “Then if it’s okay with you, do you maybe want to talk about some of your kinks and things that you don’t like and organise a time and place for our first scene?” 

“I’d love to.” 

Both you and Jeongin brought a lot of ideas to the table, conducting a healthy discussion about what you’re both into and not. Although he openly stated to you that he mainly presents himself as a dom, he was open to switching too. However, for the purpose of getting you into the swing of BDSM, it would be best for him to take the reins.

So with a little more talking, you both came up with a set date and time for the first scene which was to be at Jeongin’s place; not too far from campus. All the information and the logistics leading up to the scene were slightly nerve-wracking but didn’t match your level of excitement. 

Considering your inexperience with BDSM, Jeongin had to factor in what would be the best method of easing you into things. Sensory play was the one thing that came to mind. It’s not too extreme, can involve some restraints, and can act as a good stepping stone for a BDSM beginner. 

“It’s a good way to start off,” Jeongin said to you back at the cafe. “If it’s just sensory play only, people don’t usually climax from it. But if there’s some sort of sexual penetration that’s involved, then most likely. I don’t do the latter.”

“Still sounds like fun,” you replied.

“It is. I can deprive you of one or more of your senses which will only enhance the other.”

His way of describing the basics of sensory play could’ve easily put you to sleep – not because it was boring, but because his voice was so silky smooth that you could listen to it all day. The fact that he has so much knowledge about a subject was strangely erotic.

With your mind cleared in preparation for the scene, Jeongin flicks you a text an hour beforehand to see if you are still keen. He definitely knows that you are, but it’s also to cover his end as a dom to ensure that you know that you can pull out of the scene before it starts. 

To You from Jeongin: Hey Y/N, still on for tonight? 

From you to Jeongin: ‘Hey! Absolutely, I’ll text you when I’m at yours?’

To You from Jeongin: ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

Even if you didn’t want to go through with it tonight, Jeongin would be okay with that. For whatever reason why you would say no, he’s happy that you would feel safe to refuse. But never in your wildest dreams would you ever think of refusing, because as soon as it was time to leave, there was no doubt in your mind that you would turn back.

You had showered and packed a bag with a towel, extra clothes in case, a water bottle, and some snacks. If anyone were to come up to you and look into your duffle, their only thought would be that you’re heading to a gym nearby, not heading to your first BDSM scene. It was a nice little secret to have. 

As you arrive on the street of Jeongin’s apartment, you text him to say that you’re nearly there and knock on the door once you’ve officially made it.

“Hey,” he greets with his smiley usual self. “Come in.”

“Hey,” you respond, looking around as you step in. 

It was rather spacious which is usually not generous with student accommodation. Normally it’s one room cramped with a desk, chair, inadequate storage underneath the single bed and a community bathroom down the hall. By the looks of it, Jeongin had all this space to himself including a small bathroom and mini kitchenette area. 

“Wow, you got lucky with student housing around here.”

“Can’t stress the word ‘lucky’ enough,” Jeongin emphasises, closing the door behind you as you take your shoes off. “Took me about four months last year just to apply for a viewing. But after living in shared accommodation on campus, I needed my own space.”

“Fair enough,” you say. “Some student spaces are lucky enough to have wallpaper. But anyway.”

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” He offers. “I bought food earlier on.”

“No it’s okay thank you, I made sure to have some water and food before the scene,” you politely refuse. 

“Okay, good,” Jeongin nods, impressed even. Those who forget to eat before a scene will often find that their energy depletes faster, rendering them unable to continue or even worse, it could go hand in hand with a sub drop. “Then in that case, shall we get started?”

Your stomach flips excitedly, “sounds good to me.”

Jeongin does the honours of leading you to his bedroom. It’s adorned with a minimalistic aesthetic and beautiful muted tones. There’s a decent queen-sized bed centred back against the wall. Laid on top of its surface is a black cardboard box and a set of black restraints right beside it in contrast with the white fitted duvet. Flickering on the bedside table burned a red candle.

From what you could gather, it was most likely for wax play, but it smelt amazing. Almost a woody with a tinge of floral essence to it that filled his room.

“We can start the scene by taking your clothes off and I’ll get these restraints ready, okay?” Jeongin suggests to you. 

“Okay.” 

He steps over towards the mattress, picking up the long restraints. Only two – one for each of your wrists that he was going to link to the bedposts. He secures the ends of them in place while you strip yourself down to your bra and underwear. You fold them over your arms as Jeongin returns to carefully take them from you and places them on his chair in the corner of the room. 

He comes back once he’s done, eyeing up your body. It’s not that he meant to gawk or observe you per se, but he was in fact silently appreciating your body. He could only just hide the fact that he’s very taken with how you look and the way you pull off a simple black bra and underwear set. 

It wasn’t lingerie, but they were intricated pieces. Jeongin seems to be aware of that when you feel him delicately glide his fingertips down the straps of your bra from behind while you stare into his mirror on the wall. 

“This is is pretty,” he says. 

You swallow quietly, content with his observation, “yeah?” 

“Yes, but unfortunately I need it off for this scene. Is that okay with you?” He asks. 

“That’s okay,” you reply clearly.

“Okay then, what’s your colour?”

“Green.” 

With your given consent in mind, Jeongin works behind your back to unclasp your bra and places it with the rest of your clothes. It’s not an awkward moment for either of you given that it was nothing in comparison to the things he had planned for you. 

“Beautiful,” he comments, his eyes lingering for a few seconds too long in the mirror. Your cheeks instantly become hotter, hoping Jeongin can just hurry up and put the blindfold over your eyes so you don’t have to look at him. “Let’s move to the bed. I’ll get you to lie down so I can put the restraints on your wrists.” 

On his instruction, you make your way over to his bed after he moves the black box to the nightstand. You sit down on the mattress edge and prop your legs up until you’re able to lie down flat with your head on his pillow.

Jeongin slightly manoeuvres each of your arms before strapping your wrists into the restraints and for a couple of seconds there, you’re in your own mind. It still baffles you that you struck gold with Jeongin by absolute chance. Not to mention he’s the same person who attends church and goes to bible studies and is the same person who’s tying you to his bed. 

“Not too tight?” He checks in with you. 

“Nope, that’s fine,” you reply. 

Jeongin takes the lid off of the box on the side and takes out the silk black blindfold he purchased from the convention the other day, “okay, I’m going to place the blindfold over your eyes now.”

You nod as total darkness shields you from the predictable. Now you can’t see what’s coming next. The excitement and anticipation hinder all nervousness you’ve been feeling while Jeongin takes a moment to appreciate the state that you’re in. It’s not often for him to be so taken with a person to the point where he just about forgets what he’s doing.

Only then does he realise that he’s in a scene and needs to refocus. 

Once he’s content with everything, he decides to move on, “now we can start.” 

He goes back to the box, careful not to make too much sound so that you can’t grasp a hint of what might be inside. The first item he picks up is a long, spindly black feather. It’s simple yet very effective, responsible for creating that ticklish sensation when he dances it lightly and softly along your skin. On its first contact, your nerves try to anticipate where Jeongin will take the feather next, but their guesses come up short when he uses it somewhere else. 

The feather glides from the base of your throat, downwards and in between your tits. Jeongin then uses it to delicately lick over your nipple, making you keen slightly to one side. You can’t help but suppress a moan by biting down on your lip. It shouldn’t feel this good too early, but you can’t help your body’s natural reaction to the feather that leaves tingles in your muscles throughout its wake. 

The smile on Jeongin’s face indicates that he’s enjoying watching you squirm and quietly whimper, still teasing you with the black plume. He drags it from the tips of your toes, up your shin, and right over your clothed pussy, making you press your head back into the pillow. 

Jeongin makes a mental note of that reaction and smirks. To him, those small effects of what he’s doing to your body with only a feather, make him wonder how sensitive you really are. But it’s not his whole desire to spend too much time with it and proceeds to move on to something else; the hot wax. 

After placing the previous item in the box, Jeongin swaps it for the candle. The catcher has collected a substantial amount of wax at the bottom which will allow him to pour the majority of it out before it starts to solidify. But Jeongin stalls for a moment as he tries to make up his mind on where to pour first. 

In his opinion, he wants to cover all the sensitive parts that you’ll let him. Your tits, collarbone, throat, tummy, wherever. Eventually, however, he knows he’ll get to those places. So he starts with your tummy, watching the hot wax drip and dribble onto your skin, hardening as it makes contact. 

A gasp is forced out of your mouth, “s-shit-“

“Too hot?” Jeongin asks you, pulling back the candle before he goes to pour again. 

“N-No,” you shake your head fervently. “J-Just wasn’t expecting-"

Jeongin pours a steady line of wax in between your tits, prying your mouth open for slightly quiet yet strained moans to roll from the base of your throat.

He expects you to have some sort of reaction to the hot wax, but not like this. Usually, people try to escape from the head, some swear like sailors, and others might scream or yelp. You on the other hand…it makes him wonder if you’re a masochist with the way you’re moaning from the slight pain. 

Nonetheless, he drips more wax, this time down your abdomen, forcing you to purse your lips to suppress any sound.

Despite the temperature of the thick content, your brain, for whatever reason, deduces it as a good sensation rather than a bad one. It does burn a bit, but not to the point where you feel like you need to call for a break. That feeling when it settles into the skin where it’s magnificent and warm is too good to pass up, allowing you to keep going.

With the session barely in full swing, you’re trying to keep it together for Jeongin so that hopefully he’d invite you back for another. Yet, within the second you even start thinking about that, Jeongin pours some of the wax, just about the line of your underwear, making you tug hard on the restraints. 

“Fuck – oh my god,” you groan, feeling the heat emulsify within your lower half. It spreads beautifully, just where you want it. “That feels…” 

“Good?” Jeongin asks, making your back arch slightly when he drips more wax from your sternum to just above your belly button. There are some areas that he won’t cover with the wax since he wants enough sensitive space for the next part of the scene. 

“Y-Yes.” 

Since Jeongin has some verbal confirmation from you that the heat feels good, his indication of pinning you for being a masochist grows stronger. It’s not abnormal, but it’s rare. Not everyone is a fan of pain and some even find it confusing when it’s applied in the bedroom.

That’s not Jeongin though. He appreciates pain and pleasure in a controlled environment. In saying that, he cannot make a full observation of whether or not you’re a full-blown masochist. He’d need to actually ask you first and run other ‘tests’ to achieve a result. 

In light of the pain, Jeongin makes use of the little wax he has left, steadily pouring it onto the underside of your tits – close to where you want it. When there’s no content left at the bottom of the catcher, he moves on once more. This time, to a completely opposite temperature. 

He sets the candle back down on the nightstand, leaving it to continue burning so that the aroma fills the room rather than smoke if he were to blow it out. You then hear his footsteps shuffling around to the other side of the bed, making you wonder what it is that he’s doing. But despite tuning your ears into his every movement, Jeongin makes sure to be as careful as he can to ensure that you don’t know what’s coming next. 

The one thing that you hadn’t noticed in his room the second you walked in was a mini tin bucket of ice cubes on the other side of his bed. He gave away zero hints towards his next move, so when he quietly picked up one of the cubes and immediately placed it just above your tits, you suck in a huge gasp. 

“Geez, I wasn’t ready,” you sigh out some of the anticipation that’s building inside of you. 

Jeongin smiles, “good.” 

The areas of your body that are free from the hardened wax allow him to glide the ice cube gently over your skin. The temperature in comparison to the wax is electrifying, more so than what you ever would have anticipated – had you known it was coming. 

Jeongin watches the ice cubes melt from your body heat, seeing the droplets of water pool for a second and run down your sides. When the first cube has melted down completely, Jeongin picks up another. This time, he drags it slowly above the band of your underwear again. 

“Mm! Fuck…” you exclaim loudly, trying to conduct the sensation when it only just builds. “S-Sorry.” 

“You’re okay,” Jeongin reassures you. 

He then brings the ice cube up to one of your nipples, causing you to arch your back and tug on the restraints simultaneously as a sharp gasp leaves your mouth. The corners of Jeongin’s mouth perk up at your reaction. He doesn’t want to be too predictable and switch to your other nipple. Instead, he manages to pick up another ice cube and uses it on your other nipple, dancing it around your sensitive buds that have begun to stiffen and perk up.

Your poor brain is confused by the stimulation. It’s not happening between your legs but you can feel it from your chest. It feels weird not to be contracting around anything, which only makes you wish you were. Nonetheless, it’s still valid stimulation that you feel building and at first, you’re not sure if it’s an orgasm that’s forming or if it just feels good. 

Regardless of the matter, you can’t help it. It’s patterning the pleasure for you to experience without you having any say in it whatsoever. Your mind is muddled with what to say – how to express how you feel or what’s happening to your body. 

Jeongin has some idea of it now that he’s been listening to you panting and watching you writhe on his bed just from a couple of ice cubes. However, he wants to see how this plays out. 

“J-Jeongin,” you mumble, sucking in small breaths of air. “I’m…”

His ears spring up at the sound of his name, but he refrains from saying anything at all. Instead, he picks up another ice cube, allowing the one in his left hand to melt away before applying the fresh one. The chilly sensation replenishes but it doesn’t stop that sensation that you can feel in your tits all the way through to your pussy. Even though it feels similar to an orgasm, it triggers zero verbal response when it decides to hit you out of nowhere. 

Jeongin sees your mouth part, your legs bracketing together like they’re trying to find something to clamp around. All the while, he doesn’t stop stimulating your nipples with the cubes until your back is flat on his bed again. He had to see it through to the end. 

Breathless and slightly dazed as you were, the first thing that came to mind was that you did in fact cum. Following that came anxiously wondering what Jeongin’s reaction was.

At that, an invisible weight of embarrassment starts tugging you down. You wanted the blindfold to remain over your eyes, terrified of meeting whatever expression was laden on Jeongin’s face. There was no point in trying to gauge how he reacted when you orgasmed, but there was one thing for sure and that was he didn’t stop you from doing it. 

A few lingering moments later, Jeongin becomes satisfied with the tail end of the scene. He got through the aspects of sensory play that you both wanted to cover from the conversation you had at the beginning of the week.

He gently removes the silk blindfold from your eyes, fixing some of your hair in the process to get it out of your eyes. Even though your eyes shy away from his face, Jeongin can easily see the deep red burning through your cheeks. 

“I’ll get these off for you,” Jeongin murmurs, already freeing one of your wrists from the restraint before moving on to the other.

Once you’re completely unrestricted, you sit up straight away and start blabbing out an explanation to him. 

“Just so you know, I didn’t have other intentions going into this,” you speak quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting to…to-“

Slightly taken aback, Jeongin had to step in to reassure you that there’s nothing wrong, “Y/N, it’s okay, seriously. It’s not your fault that your body couldn’t help but do what it needed to. But you’ve just come out of a scene and I want to make sure that you’re ok-“

“Yes but, you said the other day that people don’t usually climax from sensory play only,” you interrupt him. 

He softens a bit, a small grin forming on his face, “I said ‘usually’ not ‘never’. I didn’t rule out that possibility.” 

You suddenly click onto his words, “so there is a possibility that they still can.” 

“Yes, but you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about or sorry for. Some people can orgasm through nipple stimulation. It’s not always easy, but you managed to do it, with ice too, and relatively fast. Plus, I thought it was cute,” he responds. 

‘Cute?’ If melting from embarrassment was a thing, you’d be a puddle all over his floor. Your face comes to fall into your hands, almost making him giggle. 

Jeongin then continues, “now, if you’ll let me help you, I’ll show you to the shower to get some of the wax off. Then we can have some of that food I was talking about earlier.” 

-

A/N: again, this was meant for Kinktober but my dumb ass didn’t upload it. I’m turning this into a bit of a slow burn series, but not just yet because I’m working on other things atm as listed down below:

1. Noxious Compulsions

Minsung x reader (you can find the snippet here)

2. Foul Play

Part 2 to Don’t bite the hand that feeds you

3. Venom Eater

Part 2 to Venom Biter

4. Some things are better left known

Part 2 to ‘Some things are better left unknown’

These are the main pieces that I’m working on at the moment bc they will be quite dense, and I try to add as much detail in as I can. However, there are 100% other things that I have still sitting in my Doc’s folder that I’ll release too!

[willowpains]

pairing: drew starkey x fem. reader!

summary: cast member reader and drew take on poguelandia

warnings: none

disclaimer: english is not my first language so I apologize for any grammar mistakes<3

the release of season 3 was just around the corner, and as a way to interact with the fans and give the new season some promotion, the obx team had decided to launch an event where fans would be able to live a pogue experience with the cast, which created a lot of anticipation in the fan community and had everyone in the world wishing they could attend, cause everyone was gonna be there to have a good time.

y/n was a little nervous, this event was a big deal, and as she arrived at the place in the back of the van with madelyn, her palms started sweating and her heart started racing. she had just joined the obx cast last season, along with carlacia, and this was going to be one of the first big interactions she was gonna have with the cast out in public as well as with the fans. she knew fans liked her character and cheered on her as an actress, but what if that was not the case when they saw her in real life? her impostor syndrome truly winning that day.

“everything ok y/n?” Madelyn asked noticing how the girl kept looking out the window as she played with her hands, a way to cope with her anxiety.

“i’m just feeling a bit nervous, that’s all. nothing to worry about” she answered seeing how the van came to a stop in a secluded area of the event.

her friend understood, to this day, she still got nervous at events, she believed it was impossible to get used to living this life and getting that much attention.

“just breathe, we’ll all be together and you’ll have a great time, trust me” Madelyn told the girl while she gave her a comforting smile. Both girls had instantly clicked since y/n joined the series, and had been glued to each other since then, they found a best friend in each other, and their love and care could be seen in and off screen.

“is drew already here?” y/n asked getting off the van and walking to where some of the crew were giving details on what they needed everyone to be doing.

just as she finished her question the tall man appeared around the corner making her smile, he was with Austin while a couple of crew members surrounded them, looking like they had just come from looking around the event, probably interacting with some fans. As drew noticed the van, he quickly began walking towards them, locking eyes with the anxious girl who relaxed immediately after seeing him approach.

“there’s my girl” he said into smile as he closed the distance between them hugging y/n to his chest, feeling her relax under his touch. “what took you guys so long?”

drew and y/n had met while filming season two of the show, and they had immediately become really good friends, best friends someone could say. they spent a lot of time in each other’s trailers, and their chemistry and the way they looked at each other was something all their friends could notice, but for some reason, it was something that both of them didn’t seem to grasp until long after they met, cause it was just before beginning to film season 3, that they couldn’t keep denying their feelings to each other, finally deciding to be together.

the only thing is, they decided to keep it private. and it’s not that they weren’t sure they loved each other, but they were scared of the reaction of the fans, so to that day, they have been trying to keep it low key, and it’s not like much changed, I mean, ever since they met they have had this bond that had fans questioning if they were more than friends, so all they had to do was keep the pda to themselves, even though they kind of fail in the attempt.

“traffic was insane, but it definitely allowed us to make our grand entrance” said Madelyn while she looked around seeing how they were the last to arrive.

drew could feel y/n’s quick heartbeat in his chest, so looking down to her he asked “is everything ok love?” while putting her hair behind her ear in a loving way.

y/n nodded slowly looking into his eyes and giving him a small smile “just a little nervous, don’t know what to expect honestly” she admitted.

Drew held her face while giving her a small peck on the lips “it’s ok to be nervous, if I’m being honest with you, on the way here my hands were dripping sweat” he said while stroking her cheek “and I’ll be next to you for as long as you need me to”

Y/n inhaled a deep breath while nodding to her boyfriend, she knew he was being serious, after all, since they started being friends and now as a couple, all drew had ever done was made her feel comfortable and secure, always giving her words of encouragement and being there for her when she needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to have a laugh with.

Drew took her hand in between his and started to walk towards where the rest of the cast was hanging out, as well as where some crew members were giving directions as to what kind of content they needed to film . “Let’s take on poguelandia” y/n said with a smile.

…

After a few hours filming some content for obx’s social media, and interacting with some fans, some of the guys, along with drew and y/n decided you wanted to tag along and enjoy the music.

after your nerves and anxious thoughts had washed away after and eventful day, you let yourself enjoy the event and have fun with your friends, so after you got your drinks and arrived on the platform with the rest of the cast, you decided you were gonna enjoy the rest of the day with the people that you loved.

“feeling better already huh?” drew whispered into your ear as he stood behind you with his arm around your shoulders while he held his drink in the other hand.

you nodded while you let yourself rest your head on his chest behind you.

you two weren’t nervous about being this touchy in public, you had always been that way, which was why you always had the fans wondering if you two were friends or more than that. you had always been very comfortable around each other, and being physical with each other had felt natural from the begging, so nothing had changed about that, all you had to be careful with was no kissing in public, which was definitely hard cause it was all you two wanted to do while being around each other in the warmth of the desert.

“being around you always makes me feel better” you told him while you left a quick kiss to his arm that was still around you keeping you close to him.

drew tried to hide giddy his smile while he sipped his drink “glad to know the effect is mutual love” he answered as he rested his chin on top of your head as you both swayed together to the beat of the music playing in front of you guys.

what had started as a nerve wracking experience for you had definitely turned into one of the best days with your friends and boyfriend.

…

TikTok

*a fan video captured the two of you swaying to the beat of khalid’s music and drew had his arm around you and you rested your head on his chest*

poguelife THEY ARE ADORABLE

sarahswife can they confirm their relationship already?

holybandana stop they’re definitely dating

drewmyman they’re not together guys, they’re just friends and that’s how they’ve always acted around each other

y/ncloset all this videos of them together at poguelandia are keeping me alive

obxcharleston people said they saw them kissing a couple of times

chase4life I’m scared I don’t want them to end up like chase and maddie

twinkielover could y’all leave them alone? if they are or aren’t together is none of our business, LET THEM BE

hourlyrafe MY FAVORITE PEOPLE

*so I had been wanting to write something for drew because he just lives in my mind rent free, first blurb I write in here so I’m not sure is any good, but I did enjoy writing a lot!

[sixpennydame]

Make. Believe. ❖ Act 3

Actor!Levi x Fem!Reader

The AoT Premiere approaches, but all Levi can think about is you.

Warnings/Content: NSFW, Minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, infidelity (Reader has a boyfriend as first), mentions of AoT final season episodes

A/N: There will be a final drabble that highlights more of the AoT episode premiere event; I wanted this part to focus more on our two main characters, but I've been having so much fun with the extra details in the drabbles. I hope you've enjoyed my take on AoT Actor AU!!

Act 1 | Act 2

Levi can’t keep track of what country he’s in, what time zone or even what day it is.

But he knows it’s been 186 days since he’s seen you.

Japan had been a whirlwind of promotions for the last two parts of the Attack on Titan final season, with meet-and-greets, commercial shoots, and talk show appearances. Europe had been much the same, and although it was exhausting, it was also fulfilling, being back with the cast, traveling with his old friends. He was sad to see it end, but he was also excited about other projects that were coming up. And next month, he’ll be going to the Cannes Film Festival, where the movie you and he shot together will finally premiere. After eight months, he’ll see you again.

But before that, he’s returned to Japan for the premiere of the final two episodes of Attack on Titan. Jet lag is still hitting him hard, and he sighs when he looks over at the clock and sees that it’s only two o’clock in the morning. Another sigh escapes his lips when he looks over at the naked body beside him in the bed. He can barely remember her name - was it Jessica? Jessie? All he really knows is that she was sitting next to him in the bar of the Tokyo Grand Hotel and that she looked as lonely as he was. He feels guilty - he’s never been one for one night stands - but he was yearning to feel your body again; and if he couldn’t have you, then this was good enough.

These days, your face is everywhere. You’d recently contracted with Christian Dior and were now the model for Miss Dior cologne. As Levi had arrived at Haneda airport, there was a giant poster of you tangled up in silk sheets with your hair cascading down one bare shoulder. “What Would You Do For Love?” the poster asked.

When he walked in a posh area of Shibuya, there was another advertisement of you; this time you’re lying across a sofa in a black silk dress, the pink bottle of cologne pressed against your chest. Your eyes are half-lidded and sultry - the same kind of look you’d give him when you’d make love, all those months ago.

He reaches over and grabs his phone, the light from the screen illuminating his face in the darkness as he scrolls mindlessly through Instagram. He stops when he sees that you’ve posted a picture.

“Just finished filming season one! Now for a much needed break.”

You’re surrounded by your other cast members, all of you smiling. A man has his arm around you and Levi squints to look closer at the picture. He wonders if he’s just a friend, or if it’s something more, then he laughs at himself.

What is he doing? Why can’t he forget you?

He’s the one that made this choice, and he’s the one that pushed you away. You’re smart, ambitious, and beautiful - of course you’d find someone else to be with. But he can't help but wonder what it’ll be like to see you in person again, and with you on his mind, he eventually falls asleep.

Hours later, Levi’s phone is buzzing and chiming erratically and it jolts him awake. He turns off the alarm, then checks the time. “Shit, I gotta get up.”

He’d promised Erwin that they’d do a run this morning around the Imperial Palace Gardens. As he gets out of bed and grabs a t-shirt, an arm from the woman next to him reaches over.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hey.” Awkwardness and regret drip from his voice. “This was fun but you’ve gotta go - I mean I - I’ve gotta go. I have somewhere to be.”

“Ok…let me just go clean up a bit,” she replies as she picks her clothes up off the floor and makes her way to the bathroom.

Putting on his running clothes, Levi shakes his head. They’re two consenting adults, but he can’t help but feel embarrassed about it all. He hates these kinds of awkward moments, especially when he knows he has no feelings for the woman.

He grabs his phone from the nightstand and notices there’s an unread message. When he unlocks his phone, he sees that it’s from you and his heart starts to beat fast.

“Hi. Have fun at the premiere tonight.”

That was it, but Levi reads it a few times. He types out a simple, “Thanks,” not wanting to be rude, but also not wanting to seem too eager.

He puts the phone down but after a few seconds, picks it back up again and types another message.

“How are you?”

He doesn’t realize that he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Got some good news?” The woman is out of the bathroom and dressed.

Levi looks up from the screen then puts the phone down quickly. “Yeah. Maybe.” He walks over to her and kisses her tentatively on the cheek. “I’ll text you later.”

“You don’t have my number.” She’s seen right through his lie.

“Look I’m sorry, it’s just that I -“

“It’s fine, I wasn’t expecting more out of this anyway.” Before she opens the door to leave, she stops to look at him. “You’re a good man, Levi. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.”

—-

Erwin stands at the entrance of the Imperial Palace East Gardens, looking at his watch. “You’re late.”

“I know, I know, I got held up. Sorry about that.”

“Still jet lagged?”

“A bit,” Levi answers as he messes with his smart watch. “You?”

“Not really. Cold showers in the morning really help me to adjust.”

Levi laughs. “Of course. I forgot you did that.”

“Every morning. Let’s go.” Erwin and Levi start jogging down the path that leads through the East Gardens. It’s early spring and the cherry blossoms are at their peak in Tokyo, pink petals falling down around them.

When Erwin and Levi were on set for Attack on Titan, they would jog together every morning. It was something that Levi had always done alone, but found having a running partner comforting, even if they barely talked to each other. Erwin had a perpetual aura of calm around him, which was difficult to find amongst other actors. Levi hadn’t seen much of him since his character died, and both had been busy doing other projects; these past weeks doing promos for AoT made him feel like it was old times.

They finish an hour later back where they started, sunglasses on with the hope that no one will recognize them. “You ready for tonight?” Erwin asks as he walks up to a vending machine to buy a bottle of water.

“Yes and no. It’s bittersweet, to see something you worked on for so long finally end. But I’m proud of the work we’ve done on it, and I’m excited to see how the final episodes turned out.”

“Me too. It was good to be on set with you again, even for just a short moment.”

“Yeah, those were not fake tears coming down my face, let me tell you,” Levi admitted with a laugh.

As both men walked through the park, Levi reached into his pocket to check his phone and sure enough, there was another text from you:

“I’m doing good. :-)”

It elicits a smile from Levi and Erwin laughs. “What?” Levi asks defensively.

“Oh nothing,” Erwin replies, “that’s just an awful big smile. Must be someone special.”

“Someone I was trying to forget, actually.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I’m an idiot and I thought it’d be better that way for her.”

“Ah, I see.” Erwin sits down on a bench under a sweeping sakura tree and Levi follows. “Levi, in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always put others ahead of yourself. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. But sometimes, you should be a little selfish.” He puts a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “And it’s ok to go after the things that you want. When you do that, life finds a way of working itself out.”

Levi smiles. Even off-screen, Erwin had a way of saying the wisest thing, right when he needed it most. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

“‘Course I’m right,” Erwin grins. “And as your commander, my final order is for you to go after this woman with your whole heart.”

They both laugh and talk as they make their way out of the park and to the busy streets of Tokyo. When Levi returns to his hotel and enters the elevator, he feels his phone buzz. It’s another message from you, and Levi’s eyes go wide when he reads it:

“I’m in Tokyo to attend the AoT premiere. I hope you don’t mind.”

——

Iceland was cold. And lonely.

The last six months shooting the series had been an incredible experience. The cast was a mix of seasoned actors and newbies just starting out, and with a young, emerging director looking to prove himself, you knew that you were a part of something great. The days were long and sometimes exhausting, and often ended up with you collapsed on your bed looking over lines into the wee hours of the morning. For the most part, you were happy.

But god, you missed Levi.

That last night you saw him, you couldn’t understand why he thought it would be better for you two to be apart, but you pretended to be ok with it. And it had taken everything in you not to knock on his door the next morning when you were leaving. You’d seen the jealousy on his face that night - you knew he still cared for you. But your pride had you walk away without so much as a goodbye. It’s what he wanted, right?

So you tried to move on and forget him. You’d even started dating someone on set; a feeble attempt to prove to yourself (and to Levi, in a way) that you could be a working actor and keep up a relationship. He was nice enough and the sex was good, but it just wasn’t the same. Something was missing.

You knew Levi hated social media and never updated his Instagram account, so you started following his AoT co-stars, hoping to get just a glimpse of him. Every once in a while, a video would come out on YouTube of him in an interview with other cast members, and you’d smile at how awkward he was at being himself in front of a camera.

When the date of the AoT premiere was announced, you immediately contacted your agent to get you on the guest list. You’d loved Attack on Titan for years - you had to be there. And to be honest, you wanted to see that dark-haired, brooding man again, even if from a distance.

Filming was wrapped for the next several months, to give you all some much needed rest, but you only had one day at home before you were back on a plane and headed to Japan. As you arrived at your hotel in the darkness of the early morning, you got your phone out of your bag. Somewhere, in this sprawling city, Levi was sleeping. You wonder, does he ever dream of you?

You find his name in your contacts and send him a quick text. He probably won’t respond, you think to yourself.

When you wake up late that morning and see that he has, your heart skips a beat.

You can’t help but smile as you send him a reply. Then another. You fall asleep for an hour or so and when you wake up, he’s answered you:

“Of course not. I hope I’ll see you there.”

——

The area around the Toho Cinema Roppongi Hills is starting to fill with people as the time for the Attack on Titan, Final Parts 1 and 2 premiere approaches. A red carpet has been rolled out and barriers put up; press and media have started to set up in their usual places, in preparation for pictures and interviews with the cast. Premieres are a huge event, and something that Levi has been involved in more times than he can count, but this one - the final AoT episodes - makes him feel emotional.

Now that he knows you’ll be here, he’s glad he didn’t bring a date - not that he was looking for one. He, Erwin, and Hange had decided to be each other’s dates months ago and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. The three of them ride in a limo to the cinema, along with their publicists and agents. All of them are silent, feeling the weight of this moment, until Hange breaks the silence as they pull up to the entrance.

“Ok, boys…the last ride of the three amigos..”

The three get out of the car and the cameras instantly start flashing. Hange gets between both Levi and Erwin and takes either arm in theirs, walking the red carpet and taking pictures before they separate for individual photos and interviews.

Levi usually likes picking his own clothes out for premiers, but he let a stylist do it this time. He walks down the red carpet in black pants and jacket, with a black mesh collared shirt underneath, which gives just the faintest view of his toned chest. Silver rings adorn his fingers, and he’s slicked back his hair, which he’s been growing out the past few months, just for fun. Photographers are yelling at him from every direction, asking him to look their way, or to take a picture with Hange, Zeke, or Erwin. All around him are the smiling faces of people he’s known for over 10 years, and soon, other celebrities and guests attending the event follow behind them. He looks through the crowd and sees you having your picture taken. You catch his eye and smile; he tries to make his way toward you but he’s whisked away by his publicist.

There are seats reserved in the front of the theater for the cast, with guests sitting in the rows behind them. He takes out his phone and texts you almost immediately upon sitting:

“Come to the after party? It’d be good to catch up.”

He sends you the address and a few moments later, receives your reply:

“I’ll see you there. :-)”

As he puts his phone in the breast pocket of his jacket, Hange reaches for his hand. “Are you ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replies with a sigh, squeezing their hand tightly.

The lights lower and the screen lights up to cheers from the crowd.

—-

Watching the final episodes was emotional, to say the least, but the mood at the after party is joyful and energetic. Everyone is drinking, eating, laughing, and reminiscing. Levi is sitting at a table with Petra, Ulou, and Eld when Zeke runs up.

“Levi, Levi, Levi, I just heard the greatest idea!” He forces his way between him and Petra. “Cast tattoos!”

“What?” Levi laughs.

“Yeah! Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and the others are doing it - we gotta do it too. They’re leaving soon, so let’s go!”

“No, no, there’s no we in this,” Levi protests as he resists Zeke pulling him away from the table. “Besides, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh?” That stops Zeke immediately. “And who would that be?”

You thank your driver in your limited Japanese as you leave the car and enter the stylish restaurant. Walking through the crowded space, you see Eren and Mikasa laughing and drinking with a group of other young actors. As a fan of the show since its beginning, you are feeling like a total fangirl as there are cast members from every season around you. But as you walk around the room looking for Levi, you suddenly get nervous, thinking that maybe this was a bad idea; you’re not even sure what you’re expecting from this night.

Just as you think about leaving, you see him sitting at a table with the Levi Squad cast and Zeke, who has an arm around him. He looks up, sees you, and smiles, throwing Zeke’s arm off of him.

As he walks towards you, you admire how good he looks. He’s so sexy, you can feel yourself blushing.

“Glad you could make it” he says, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek. His lips are soft, just like you remember them.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Attack on Titan has been my favorite series since forever. To be honest, I am so excited to be surrounded by the cast.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of them.” He places his hand on the small of your back as he leads you through the crowd. Your hunter green silk dress swoops down low in the back, so when his hand touches your bare skin it gives you goosebumps.

He takes you from group to group, introducing you to people you’ve only known through a screen. You laugh with Jean and Connie as they talk about the practical jokes they used to pull on Levi off-set; you sing Red Swan (your favorite opening song) with Armin and Sasha, Levi refusing to join in no matter how hard you all try; you take shots with Hange and gush about how much you loved their character.

Levi watches you and can’t stop smiling. He’d forgotten how good it feels to be around you, to talk and flirt with you. Your hand grazes his and when he weaves his fingers through yours, you don’t resist. Your eyes shine as you look at him; you don’t have to say a word but he knows you’re feeling it too.

The two of you eventually make it over to Erwin and you blush when Levi brags about the film you made together and your acting skills.

“No, no,” you interject, “Levi is the real talent. His acting on set was some of the best I’ve ever seen.”

Erwin smiles. “I’m sure you both complement each other well and that the movie will be spectacular. I’m looking forward to seeing it.” He gives Levi a knowing smile and lifts up his champagne glass.

“Levi! My buddy!” Zeke comes crashing through the group, clearly inebriated. “And who is this? It’s Miss Dior herself.”

“Oh you’ve seen those?” The way he says it brings a blush to your cheeks.

“Of course I have. You look absolutely mesmerizing in those ads,” he moves closer to you, “just like you do tonight.”

Zeke leans on a nearby table and gives a playful smirk. “How long are you staying in Tokyo? I could show you around, if you’d like.”

“She doesn’t need you showing her around anywhere.” Levi’s voice is forceful for the first time that night. You put a reassuring hand on his arm - you have to admit, you like seeing him a little jealous.

“Thanks for the offer, Zeke, but I already have extensive plans in Tokyo.” You give Levi a smile that lets him know that ‘he’ is the plan.

Erwin comes to the rescue of both of you. “Zeke, what’s this I hear about tattoos? Are we doing this tonight?” He puts an arm around Zeke and leads him away, giving you both a wink.

The restaurant is large and sprawling, built in the old Japanese style, but is an interesting mix of East and West, old and new. There’s a garden in the center with the main area and smaller, more private rooms surrounding it. Wanting to escape the noise and commotion, you lead Levi outside, “It’s a bit quieter out here.”

“And more beautiful,” Levi replies, as you walk across a small bridge crossing a koi pond.

“It really is beautiful out here. I’ve always loved Japanese gardens.”

“I wasn’t talking about the garden.” He moves closer to you as you lean against the banister of the bridge. “You look stunning.”

“You know why I chose hunter green, don’t you?” He shakes his head. “Because it’s Levi’s color.”

“Oh really?” He is in front of you now, his hand grazing your arm ever so slightly as he looks you up and down.

“Mmmhmm, he’s always been my favorite character.”

“Nice to know I have a fan.”

“I’m just one of many.”

“But you’re the only one that matters.”

That makes you giggle. “So flirty. Is that how you get the ladies these days?”

“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you.” He looks at you with his piercing eyes. “It’s always been you.”

His words are like music to your ears, but you’re determined to stand firm. You can’t let him off so easily. “That didn’t seem to be the case six months ago.”

“Because I thought it was for the best, but I was wrong. So wrong. And I’ve regretted it every day since.”

His hand moves around your waist and he pulls you close. The lights of the garden shine in his dark grey eyes as his lips softly press against yours. You can’t help but return the kiss, your mouth opening slightly, inviting his tongue inside. When he moves away slightly, you realize you’d been holding your breath.

“I never should have let you go.”

“Levi, I..”

A few noisy and slightly drunk guests amble outside, ruining the moment. Without a word, Levi takes your hand and pulls you to a far corner of the garden, toward the private rooms. He pulls back the heavy, velvet curtains separating the room from the garden and gestures for you to enter. The room is small and intimate, decorated in a western style with a large, ornate mirror. You walk around, admiring the wingback chairs and gilded furniture, and then you feel Levi’s presence behind you.

His fingers lightly skim your bare arms, leaving a trail of heat coursing through your body. You close your eyes when you feel his warm breath against your neck, followed by soft kisses.

“Levi..I’m seeing someone..” you manage to say.

“Oh yeah?” He responds gently in your ear before kissing your earlobe. “You sure about that?”

When you open your eyes, you notice that you’re in front of the mirror and can see Levi kissing along your neck and shoulders. He looks up and grins.

“Right now I only see you and me.”

He continues kissing along your shoulder until the thin strap of your dress falls down your arm. You can’t resist him, you never could, and so you give in to your desires. You lean your body until your back is pressing against his chest. One of his hands is holding yours while the other is moving the fallen strap down lower, exposing your breast.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says as he looks at you in the mirror, his hand moving to cup your breast. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this all night.”

You guide his other hand lower, to the high slit of your dress, urging him to touch your thigh. “I missed you, Levi. So much.”

For you, it’s always been him as well. As much as you’ve tried to deny your feelings for him these past six months, all it took was one touch from him for it to all come back. And now you want more.

His hand finds its way between your thighs as his other hand massages your breast. “You’re already so wet for me,” he notices, as his fingers begin to rub your clit.

“You’re the only one who knows how to make me feel good,” you reply, then your breath catches as he pushes your panties to the side and sides a finger inside you.

It’s a beautifully erotic sight, watching yourself in the mirror as Levi pinches your nipple and pumps his finger in and out of you. You can’t help but let out a moan.

“‘Shhh, you don’t want someone to hear, do you?”

“I don’t care. Levi, I need you so badly.”

You turn around to kiss him, taking his jacket off and throwing it on the floor. Almost immediately, he has you pressed against the wall and is lifting your dress up to your waist. He’s unbuttoning his pants as you slide your panties down, but only get so far as taking them off one leg before he lifts that leg up and rubs his cock against you.

Levi has tunnel vision right now; all he can see is your perfect body, all he wants to hear are the moans of his name from your pretty mouth. And that’s exactly what he gets when he thrusts inside you. You bite your bottom lip as he pounds into you again and again. “I thought you didn’t care if someone heard us?”

“I’m trying to be good,” you reply breathlessly.

“Oh I think we’re well past being good.”

He pins your arm over your head as his other hand is still lifting your leg, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. You kiss and suck on his neck, leaving a small mark.

“Careful there..”

“What? Makeup can cover it up,” you tease seductively, referring to the first time you and Levi made love.

He lets out a soft growl. “Then I suppose now we’re even.” He picks up the pace, watching as your breasts bounce up and down with each hard thrust. You’re driving him wild; every nerve in his body feels completely alive.

“Levi, I’m…”

He knows. He’s feeling it too. He kisses you long and hard, then feels your walls spasm around him. It’s just what he needs to push him over the edge, and as he cums inside you, it’s as if the whole world has stopped; only your uneven breaths mark the time passing.

You continue to spasm around his cock as your mind goes completely blank. You can’t explain it, but Levi elicits the longest, most intense orgasms from you. It’s just how your body reacts to him - you can’t explain it.

He says your name in your ear, his voice deep and raspy. “Will you forgive me? For all the time we wasted apart. I don’t want to do any of this without you.”

“Yes. Yes, I forgive you.” You run your fingers through his silky hair. “I know we can make this work.”

Of course you forgive him. You’d forgiven him the moment you laid eyes on him tonight; maybe even before that.

The bottom of your dress falls back over your legs and Levi gently pulls the straps back up on your shoulders. You are his, and he is yours - it’s always been this way, and now both of you know it. As you fix your hair and touch up your lipstick in the mirror, there’s a commotion in the garden.

“Leeeeeviiiiiiiii! Where are you? We’re getting tattoos!”

He’d know that yell anywhere: it’s Hange.

“Yeah, come on, Levi! We’re all getting tattoos!”

And Zeke is with them.

“Goddammit. Let’s stay here a little longer.”

You laugh. “You should do it…for memories.” You cup his cheek and give him a kiss. “Get it on your ass, so then only I can see it.”

At that, Levi rolls his eyes. “Don’t make this weirder than it already is.”

He takes your hand in his, then meets the screaming duo in the garden. “Ok, fine, let’s do this,” he resigns, as he leads you along to join the group.

“You want me to come too?”

“Of course.” His face is serious, but there’s a joy in his eyes. “I don’t intend on letting you out of my sight.”

“Yes!” Zeke exclaims. “Eren, Levi is in! Let’s go!!”

And so you walk, hand in hand, out of the restaurant to find the others.

——

“There’s no denying that the two of you have an incredible chemistry in the film. Did that come naturally?” the interviewer asks.

“I think I felt that spark between us almost immediately. Wouldn’t you say?” Levi answers.

“Oh yes, absolutely,” you reply fondly.

It’s the week of the Cannes Film Festival and you and Levi are on the interview circuit. After the AoT premiere, you broke up with your boyfriend and stayed with Levi in Tokyo, then went with him to Singapore and Seoul as the cast traveled from city to city. The month flew by and the next thing you knew, you were both traveling to France.

You’re together everywhere, and the paparazzi have quickly deduced that you're an item. It’s been a hot topic of all the celebrity and gossip sites, but neither of you care - a rare occurrence, for Levi especially, who has always valued his privacy intensely.

“And you’re actually a couple in real life, correct?”

“We are.” You answer tentatively. “He tolerates me, anyway.” You make light of it, but answering this question always makes you nervous, since you’re not quite sure how much Levi wants to share.

“More than tolerate,” Levi squeezes your hand, “she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to my life.”

He knew this question would come up, because it always does these days. But he’s realized, he’s not concerned with the gossip or the naysayers; he knows that whatever challenges come your way, the two of you can ride it out.

He believes this will work, because he’s in love with you. And after this interview is over, he’s going to tell you exactly that.

Join my taglist!

@thevelria @lunaheroine18 @meltingforthatackerman @adanfore @blondebebop @levisfavoriteacup @dont-f-with-moogles @itty-bitty-baby-face @ricecrispiebirb @whorenamedbee @rec-a-fic @leviismybby @littlerequiem @satorizz @lost-in-the-daylight @nube55 @kingkonoha @youre-ackermine @saenora @wanderlustqueen-writes @mrsackermannx @honestlywtfisgoingon @bejewelledd @cometlevi @sea-after-a-storm @notgoodforlife @belovedackerman @y44sherlock @xyumemi @armani78 @humanitys-strongest-bamf @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw @woozzz @imlevisoneandonlywife @notsaelty @zasialovee @heartsforlevi @pieckes @aomi04 @ackermendick @sun-drak @crazychaoticizzy @mintandgingertea @socio-kai-path 1972 @xuanzhe @hvziers @hollistichood @highgoon69 @Vxlentine888 @luasxsx @thebobaprincess @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @worldseer @xuanzhe

[venus-haze]

Baby Let's Play House (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: After noticing your exhaustion in trying to balance managing Homelander’s day-to-day and your relationship with him, he decides that you’d be happier behind a white picket fence than an office desk. You initially agree, but the housewarming party you throw reveals how differently the two of you view your relationship.

Note: This can be read as being related to My Destruction Is an Hour Late, but you don’t need to read that to understand what’s happening in this. Reader is a cis woman, but no other descriptors are used. First time incorporating Homelander’s perspective into a fic, also I took some creative liberties on how his costume works. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: Homelander is his own warning (I never tag his stuff as yandere because that’s just how he is), but toxic relationship that includes possessive tendencies, gaslighting, guilting. Mirrorlander makes an awful, misogynistic appearance. Sexually explicit content which involves coercion/dubcon, oral (m. receiving), brief orgasm denial and choking. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Dating your direct superior was undoubtedly an ethics violation, but the trembling HR manager who signed off on Vought’s workplace relationship disclosure form couldn’t conjure up any protests when Homelander and you showed up at her office to make your relationship “HR official.” When you’d expressed concern about how dating him would affect your career, he scoffed, ‘What are you talking about? Babe, I am your career.’ You faltered under the weight of his gaze, knowing full well he could hear your heart skipping frantically along as you thanked him for his reassurance.

He’d resisted the idea at first, one you brought up almost immediately after you’d become his girlfriend and he gave you a promotion. He was The Homelander. He didn’t need Vought’s permission to date you. It wasn’t until you reframed it as a declaration rather than permission that he was on board. Stan Edgar could read the damn form and weep. No more publicity relationships, not when he had you. It didn’t take long for things to spiral out of control from there.

Your coworkers treated you differently, with a nervous politeness that was unsettling and isolating. Loneliness settled in soon after, almost as if by design. Suddenly, Homelander was the only one you could turn to, and by the nature of your job, he was almost always there, ready to fill whatever emotional void you needed filled, from co-worker to lover. He thrived off of your dependence, each display of it a hit that coursed through his veins. An addict in thought, he couldn’t get enough of you. 

When he brought up this idea to you, not long after his grandiose proposal, you welcomed it. A cozy house in the suburbs didn’t sound so bad compared to the whirlwind of your responsibilities at Vought managing Homelander’s day to day on top of your relationship with him. 

Now, as you walked up the pathway to the front door with the last of the groceries you’d needed before the housewarming party you were hosting the following night, the white posts of the picket fence that surrounded the house looked more like teeth rising out of the ground to devour you, red roses planted along the perimeter painted droplets of blood on the unhinged jaw. You knew it was never your choice. 

Most of the time, things were good, and you and Homelander fell into a comfortable, domestic rhythm. When things were bad, however, there was nothing you could do but sit back and wait for it to end. That hadn’t happened in a while, and despite your excitement for the party, you could tell he wasn’t nearly as enthused. You foolishly hoped that the night you’d been planning for weeks wouldn’t end in disaster.

Almost as soon as you finished unpacking the groceries you’d bought, you considered what to make for dinner. Despite Homelander’s enhanced palette, he wasn’t that picky when it came to your meals. You wished he expressed some preference, though, since your Pinterest board for recipes was out of hand, even with your organizing it as best as you could.

“Hey babe,” Homelander greeted you with a smack on the ass, a domestic yet outdated gesture he favored upon seeing you in the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?”

He never used the services of Vought’s chefs after you and he began “going steady,” even though he did like their food more than yours objectively. Getting food cooked by a chef in an industrial kitchen and then brought up by an intern was too impersonal. You cooked with love, always adding a personal touch that made even the overcooked chicken cacciatore you’d served a few nights before worth eating. 

“Do you consider soup a meal?” 

“What is this, a Seinfeld episode?” he asked. “I don’t know. I guess it depends on the soup.”

“French onion.”

“That’s basically a deconstructed French dip. Sure, that’s a meal.”

“Perfect, I’ll make that, then.” you said. “I’m so excited for the party tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’ll be a blast,” he mumbled, leaning against the kitchen counter and folding his arms across his chest.

“C’mon, I get to spend the whole night showing off my amazing fiance and our incredible home,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on his clenched jaw.

His pouty mood cracked just the slightest bit, though he didn’t like how your attention had been all over the place in the week or so leading up to the housewarming party rather than solely on him. It was all you could talk about, and to add insult to injury, you’d started ordering him around far too much for his liking. You’d ask about his day as if it were an obligation to do so, a segue into ‘Pick up these streamers’ and ‘Remember to ask Jason and Patricia about their baby’ and ‘Tell Vought you need to be home by five.’

His biggest reason for even getting you this house and convincing you to quit your job at Vought was so you’d have more time for him. Even though your work schedule had been mostly dictated by him, you found yourself exhausted most nights, passing out in bed almost as soon as dinner was over. That was no fun at all.

Far too soon for his liking the next day, your stupid friends made their way up the street and to the house, bottles of wine and wrapped gifts in tow. He realized that he shouldn’t have left so much of the planning to you. To his displeasure, the guests were evenly co-ed. Though your hugs and greetings to the men who entered your home were polite and platonic, he didn’t like it. Not one damn bit. Who the fuck kissed someone’s cheek as a greeting anymore anyway?

He watched as you played hostess, a tornado of hospitality as you ran yourself in circles around the house to refill drinks and jump in on conversations. You looked like you were having the time of your life, and his gloved hands balled into fists at his side every moment your attention wasn’t squarely on him, especially when you were all dressed up the way you were. None of them deserved to see how perfect you looked.

Finally, he crept up on you while you were speaking with your old college roommates who’d asked you to give the details on how you and Homelander got together. He was more than happy to indulge them, his arm tight around your waist as he took control of the narrative.

The version of the story that left Homelander’s mouth almost made you choke on your own spit. Of course, it started at work, with you harboring a crush on Homelander for far longer than he’d even noticed you. Your persistence was cute, though, and soon enough you’d wormed your way into his routine. Curious about your infatuation, Homelander would make excuses to keep you in the office late, until the projects became canoodling. He’d finally asked you out on a date, and you graciously offered to cook dinner for him. 

He’d flipped the whole thing on its head. You had helped him with one project, and in the months spent building up your reliability, he was the one who’d become infatuated with you, until almost your entire life revolved around him. His story was far more palatable, as evidenced by your friends’ expressions of congratulations and how lucky you were.

You supposed you were lucky in a way. Homelander made sure you had nothing to worry about, except for him, of course. His moods were increasingly volatile as he was slowly pushed out of the spotlight of The Seven. The glance he gave you, loving to the untrained eye, was a warning. Despite your hope that the housewarming party would open up Homelander to the idea of you getting a bit more social interaction outside of just him, it was proving to have the opposite effect. 

Then again, he never wanted to have a good time at the party, as you dejectedly reminded yourself. It was a shame, your friends all seemed to like him well enough, even if you did catch him being backhandedly rude to some of them a few times that night. He was so good at pretending when it came to the fans he supposedly hated so much. You weren’t sure why he couldn’t put up a front for a few hours for your friends.

By the time everyone left, you were exhausted. Drained physically and mentally from the demands of the party and your fiance, you were glad you’d opted for disposable plates and cups. The little clean up you had to take care of was just manageable enough to take care of before you headed up to bed.

“Glad that’s over,” Homelander said, drying the charcuterie board you’d handed him.

“Why were you so determined not to have fun tonight?” you asked.

“Excuse me if I don’t find entertaining your idiotic friends fun.”

“Then you suck it up and pretend, for me.”

“Don’t—don’t pull that.”

“Pull what?”

“That ‘for me’ thing. Everything I do is for you,” he said, huffing before lowering his voice, his icy glare making your breath catch in your throat. “You don’t need them. You don’t need anybody. Not when you have me.”

“Homelander, codependency isn’t—“

“Don’t pathologize me!” he shouted, slamming his hand on the granite countertop which cracked from the force he used. Upon noticing your terrified expression, he drew back a bit, letting out an unnerving laugh in an attempt to ease the tension he’d created. “You almost made me lose my temper there, missy.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wide-eyed as you moved to take a tentative step back from him.

He quickly grabbed your arm, keeping you in place. “I know you are, darling, but a love like ours–it can’t be put into clinical terms.”

Fuck. You hit that specific nerve. It took him a while to open up about his childhood, the real one, not the Midwest little leaguer who loved god, mom, and the good ol’ US of A, in that order. That story sold comic books, it was comforting to watch on screen, the warm apple pie with a scoop of melting vanilla ice cream. Not even born in a lab, by his own accounts, but dumped from a test tube and caged like any other animal used for experimentation. Except Homelander had been a boy, scared and alone as white coats filtered in and out of exam rooms and testing labs, poking and prodding. Though, torturing was more like it, pushing him to see the extent of his powers, whether their unbreakable hero was truly unbreakable. Then he was unleashed onto the world, the weight of it on his shoulders.

Something was wrong with him, psychologically at least, and you knew the unhealthy fixation on your relationship as his sole source of emotional fulfillment would have sent you packing if it were anyone else. Every time you considered leaving, as if you even could, you just as quickly thought of how scared and hurt the most powerful man in the world looked when he recounted every painful experiment he endured, the plethora of human rights violations that became so entrenched in his identity. The ensuing tug of empathy and guilt at your heartstrings made you stay.

Still, you had to let him know that you wouldn’t tolerate an outburst like that just because you’d had a lapse in judgment when it came to your phrasing.

“I think you should stay at your old place tonight,” you said.

“Babe, c’mon, the counter can be fixed. I’ll have someone at Vought call a contractor tomorrow and—“

“That’s not what I mean.”

“You still love me right?” he asked, desperately searching your face for an answer. “Right?”

“Of course I do, but we both need space to cool off.”

He huffed, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Fine, have it your fucking way. As always, babe.”

He stormed out before you could get another word in, you mentally sent your apologies into the universe to whoever would end up being at the receiving end of his wrath. 

A few cars were lasered to smoldering hunks of metal on his way to Vought Tower. He didn’t care, the company had millions of dollars set aside each year for superhero-related collateral damage. After all, they weren’t even nice cars as far as he could tell. He was doing them a favor that’d go unappreciated, not unlike you.

Homelander’s arrival to his suite was devoid of any fanfare or announcements of his return. He was embarrassed to be back. Standing dejectedly in the dark doorway, he glared at every object in the room with disdain. It’d been a fine place to live before he knew any better, before he’d experienced what a home truly felt like. You’d once described it as like being in a museum, and he couldn’t disagree. At one time he thought it was to his taste. Now, the suite he’d resided for so many years without you felt cold, hollow, and unfamiliar. 

He looked out on the city, rage boiling in his veins. Things were fine when it was the two of you against the world. Your shitty friends had to come in and ruin that. No matter how hard he tried, it was like you refused to listen to reason and see that he did everything because he loved you. He loved you so much it hurt.

“Now this is really pathetic.”

“You saw how pissed she was.” Homelander argued weakly against his sneering reflection.

“She’s a woman. That’s their default state when they’re running the show.”

“She’s not running the show.”

“Really? So that’s why you’re banished to the proverbial couch?” his reflection taunted.

Homelander swallowed the lump in his throat. “What do you suppose I do, then? Flowers? A box of chocolates?”

“No. That’s practically admitting you did something wrong. Do you remember how you got her in the first place? You didn’t ask. You took.”

Homelander nodded along as his reflection spoke.

“What you do is remind her who’s in charge. You’re the man of the house. Take the respect, the devotion, you deserve.”

You awoke suddenly in the middle of the night to a figure standing at the end of your bed. At first, you thought it was a dream, until the figure began to move. Turning on the lamp on your nightstand, its soft glow illuminated your side of the bed, casting shadows over your fiance’s face.

“Homelander!” you gasped. “Oh my god, you scared me. What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he said.

“You know what I mean.”

“You know the old saying, ‘Don’t go to bed angry.’ I already forgive you for tonight, but things need to change.”

“I need you to leave.”

“You don’t call the shots, babe. I’ve been way too lenient with you,” he said, a dangerous grin spreading across his face. “Think you need a reminder of who’s in charge here.”

“Honey, what’s this about? You know I love you.”

“Sure, but you don’t respect me.”

“Of course I respect you—“

“No, you don’t. By the end of the night, you will,” he said, before beckoning you over to him with a curl of his index finger. “C’mere, sweetheart. You haven’t even welcomed me home yet.”

You felt his eyes practically burning a hole through you as you silently complied, pushing back the covers you’d been bundled under and padding your way across the room to where he stood. He somehow loomed over you, stony-faced like a marble statue honoring a god with disdain for humanity. His eyes glistened as he took in your face, though, betraying the whirlpool of emotions that rushed through him whenever he was in your presence. 

Dozens of dresses and lingerie sets had been casualties of his lust and strength, the material torn from your body like gift wrap and promptly replaced within a few days. This night was no exception, as with a flick of his wrist, your satin nightgown was a pathetic pile on the floor.

Though you expected as much, he captured your lips in a heated kiss that almost made you lose your balance with his intensity. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you the way old tree limbs twist and tangle around objects left in their course, time and nature making it impossible to separate the two without irreversible damage to both. 

“John,” you whispered against his lips.

There were plenty of men named John. It was a disgustingly common name, chosen for him by Vought to give him that relatable, everyman persona. Bullshit. He wasn’t an everyman. He was a god. People praised and worshiped Zeus, Jupiter, Jesus, Homelander—not fucking John. 

Whenever you used it, though, suddenly the name was his. His. Not some stupid placeholder the white coats gave him instead of “subject whatever.” He was grateful you couldn’t sense the crack in his facade, his heart skipping a beat at how lovingly you said his name. How could you ever expect him to want to share that? Reluctantly, he pulled back from you, releasing you from his embrace. He still had a point to make.

“Get on your knees.”

You looked almost confused by his words.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he warned.

Slowly, you knelt on the shredded satin that lay at your feet, and with trembling hands unbuckled his belt, avoiding eye contact with the eagle that adorned it as if the metal bird of prey were judging you. You tried telling yourself there was no reason to be nervous, you’d given Homelander plenty of blowjobs before, but his mood was always much, much lighter when you did. 

When you pulled down the spandex pants of his suit that was practically painted on him, you were greeted with an eye full of his hardening cock, already leaking with precum when you took it in your hand, eliciting a moan from him that seemed to echo through the bedroom. You stroked his cock, leaning in to give a teasing lick to the head that made his breath hitch.

“You like that baby?” you asked. “Do you want more?”

He whined, struggling to respond as you pumped his hardening length.

“C’mon, baby, use your words and—“

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped, grabbing you by the root of your hair and shoving his cock in your mouth. 

You gagged, trying to adjust yourself to the sudden change. Although, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to how big his cock was. The bulge in his suit certainly wasn’t compensating for anything.

“Go on, put that smart little mouth of yours to good use,” Homelander said, fingers still tangled in your hair as he tugged at your scalp. “Or are you so helpless without me that you can’t even suck a cock on your own?”

With a whimper, you did your best to massage his length with your tongue, taking as much of him as you could, though you never managed to fit all of him in your mouth. It wasn’t without a lack of trying. You gagged again, and this time he seemed to bore of your struggle and instead began fucking your throat at a merciless pace.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re it. You’re the only one for me. Why don’t you—fuck—get that?”

Your response was a garbled choking noise as you placed one hand on his thigh to steady yourself. The other reached out to fondle his balls, prompting an erratic thrust from him that nearly knocked you over. As unpredictable as Homelander could be, if you thought too much about how much self control he used to not accidentally kill you whenever the two of you were remotely intimate, your brain would start to feel fuzzy. Or maybe it was the way you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. 

When you looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, he was barely able to keep his own open. Blonde hair flopped across his forehead, he looked at you with hooded eyelids, the faintest smirk flashing across his face before he groaned again, throwing his head back.

He never lasted all that long to begin with, woefully sensitive and touch-starved despite his experience. Normally, you found it endearing, but tonight you were grateful as you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle his mercilessly fucking your throat. 

With another involuntary thrust, his cock twitched against your tongue. You struggled to swallow his cum that was pumping into your mouth. Some of it mixed with spit as it dribbled from the corners of your lips down your chin.

As Homelander pulled his cock from your mouth, he observed your ruined state—disheveled hair, puffy lips, tears tracked down your face. Pride filled his chest as he watched you try to catch your breath. He’d never pushed you quite this far before, and he wanted so much more.

“Messy little thing, huh?” he asked, swiping what had escaped your lips on his thumb and bringing it to your mouth. 

With a shaky sigh, you wrapped your lips around his finger, weakly sucking the residue from it until he was satisfied, pulling it from your mouth.

He smiled, caressing your cheek with his wet thumb. “That’s my girl.”

You hummed in response, the most you could manage with how sore your throat felt. It was good enough for him, because he offered you his hand, pulling you up from your knees with ease. His gentleness as he laid you back on the bed felt almost foreign compared to his ruthlessness just minutes earlier. 

The reprieve was short-lived, however. As soon as he shed the rest of his suit, he pounced, his eyes betraying the intention to devour you whole. Animalistic, manic, from his predatory gaze to the prominence of his canines, he could rip your throat out if he wanted to. There was no point in trying to conceal your concerning arousal at the thought, even if he hadn’t reached between your legs to feel your wet pussy, he could smell it on you from a mile away. 

He licked his lips, leaning over you as he teased your clit while sliding his cock inside you.

“Oh my god,” you moaned.

Homelander grinned, rolling his hips against yours. “I know I am.”

He’d been aggressive in bed before, usually due to jealousy or possessiveness. The way he moved was far more calculated than impulsive, as if each thrust intentionally pushed you closer to climax as he rubbed circles on your clit instead of just him releasing pent up frustration and insecurity. 

“You love taking it all, don’t you? Love the way I fill you up?” 

His mocking tone went straight to your pussy, and you could hardly manage a coherent response as he pounded into you. Even then, it didn’t feel like enough, as you bucked your hips to get more of him.

He was studying you, observing every contortion of your face, feeling the way your wet pussy clenched around this throbbing cock as he thrust into it, the sound nothing short of obscene as it echoed with your desperate moans. Then, just as you were about to orgasm, he moved his hand away from your clit and pulled out of you so quickly, you almost started crying.

The look of hurt and betrayal on your face gave him conflicting feelings, but the one that won out was a smug superiority. He’d never loved anyone as much as he loved you, and it seemed like this ‘tough love’ approach was working. He wrapped his hand around your sore throat, his cold and intense stare as he leaned closer to your face sending a shiver down your spine that he could surely feel.

“You don’t come unless I say you can. You got that, sweetheart?” he asked, voice dripping with condescension. 

You nodded weakly, a pained whimper trapped in your throat. As soon as he gave you a wicked grin in return, you knew that he wanted you to give in to your base desires like humans do. With so much of his life spiraling out of his control, he wanted to be sure he didn’t have to worry about you. 

He released his vice grip on your throat, and, as if reading your thoughts from just a few minutes prior, leaned down, pressing a kiss to your neck before grazing his teeth down the tender flesh, feeling your racing pulse’s vulnerability.

“John,” you breathed, your voice inaudible to anyone but him.

“I know, darling. You want it so bad, don’t you?”

“Please,” you whimpered, “please.”

“It didn’t have to be this difficult, you know,” he mused, his fingers playing with your sensitive clit.

You choked out a sob at the almost painful feeling of overstimulation. “I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not that hard to be good for me, is it? To just do as I say?”

“No.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to remind you again,” he said, his voice soft and low as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

The emptiness you felt between your legs was soon filled again by his cock. 

You fell limp at this point, no movements in an attempt to match his thrusts. His reflection had been right, he just needed to take what he wanted and remind you who was in charge. He was in control, all you needed to do was lie back, look pretty, and take it. You should be thanking him for making things so easy for you.

He kissed you, reveling in how sweetly you moaned in his mouth now that he had you exactly how he wanted you. Your heart was racing, he could tell you were getting close, and he was too, but he wanted you to come first, to be the one to fold and give in to him completely.

“It’s all right now, darling. I’ve got you,” he whispered.

It felt like all of your muscles tightened before your release, your hips rocking involuntarily as your orgasm rippled through your body. The pent up pleasure was almost too overwhelming, and you had to grab his bicep to ground yourself, digging your nails into his skin. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t like you could break it anyway. 

With the way your pussy squeezed his cock as you came, an unhinged moan and tears and vision clouded by stars, his own orgasm followed soon after. He never bothered with the pretense of pulling out. Filling you with his cum was right, it was natural, another way to lay claim to you. He hated condoms, but he knew his next course of action would be doing something about your pesky birth control soon. 

You winced as you moved closer to his chest, allowing him to hold your body against his. Your muscles ached, and you knew that in the morning you’d hardly be able to move at all. It wasn’t uncommon with Homelander, and he loved your dependence on him on those mornings when he’d carry you from room to room, a reminder of his strength. He was the most powerful man in the world, you might as well have been a feather.

“How’re you holding up babe?” he asked.

“Fine,” you said softly.

He smiled, stroking your cheek. “I’m glad we’re on the same page now. It’ll make things so much easier, babe, you’ll see.”

You gave him a weak smile before closing your eyes, knowing fully well that he could hear by your thumping heart that you were faking sleep.

[biocrafthero]

Some Queer Games and Devs to check out this Pride Month

Hello! I play a decent amount of video games, and like making posts about them. This year, I've been making a lot more posts analyzing and promoting games I particularly enjoy. I'm making this post as a way to share games that have queer developers and/or topics to celebrate this year's Pride Month.

All games' websites will be linked in their respective sections, and I urge you to check out any of the games that speak to you. There's a decent amount of variety on this list, so please give all of them a look!

Please note that all of these games are ones I have personally played--I am not including games I have not played yet for myself. If you were hoping for your favorite title to be on here, I am very sorry but chances are I just haven't heard of or played it yet.

ANATOMY (2016)

ANATOMY is a horror game released in 2016 by developer Kitty Horrorshow (she/her). While the game does not contain any queer themes, the dev is openly transgender.

The plot of the game coincides with the gameplay, which centers around walking through a nearly pitch-black house collecting tapes and putting them in a tape player. Despite its simplicity, the game has been commended by many for being "the scariest game they have ever played." The story of the house is uncovered as you listen to each of the tapes, and reentering each time the game shuts you out.

This game features themes surrounding body horror and psychological horror, and one moment that can be seen as a mild jumpscare if it is not expected.

A full playthrough takes about an hour, with multiple endings. However, all roads lead to the same destination.

ANATOMY is available for $3 USD on itch.io.

We Know The Devil (2015)

We Know The Devil is a visual novel developed by the team Worst Girls Games, which consists of Aevee Bee (she/her) and Max Schwartz (any). Music for the game is composed by Alec Lambert.

The plot of the game surrounds three teenagers who have been sent to a religious summer camp in the American midwest. With just one week left, they're all hoping for everything to be smooth sailing, but nothing is ever that simple. On this fateful night, they must face the devil; two will make it out, but one will be left behind.

The gameplay focuses on making decisions on who gets paired up together, and consequently who gets left out of the interaction. These choices determine what ending you get and there are never any wrong answers.

Queer rep in this game consists of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There is also mentioned homosexuality regarding a male character that is only ever talked about in passing.

This game contains themes surrounding religion, internalized homophobia, along with general homophobia and transphobia. There are scenes that depict underage drinking, vomiting, body horror, and some moments that can be interpreted as self-harm. Some sound effects in the game can be jarring, along with the track "Incense (Smoke & Honey)" from the OST, a song that plays in three of the four endings.

A single playthrough can take about two hours depending on reading speed. There are four endings, meaning a minimum of four playthroughs.

We Know The Devil is available for $6.66 USD on Steam, Nintendo Switch, and itch.io.

There is also the demo for the game, which is free to download off of the game's itch.io page and baked into the Switch port.

Heaven Will Be Mine (2017)

Heaven Will Be Mine is a visual novel also developed by the team Worst Girls Games, with soundtrack once again composed by Alec Lambert.

The game's plot centers around three factions in the solar system. They have all been called back to Earth under threat of death; two factions want to stay in space, while one is choosing to return. At the start of the game, you can choose one out of three characters to follow the POV of, each belonging to one of the three factions.

Gameplay is similar to We Know The Devil, meaning that you make decisions throughout the story that determine what ending you get. There are no wrong choices, only ones that lean in the favor of one of the faction out of your options.

Queer rep in this game consists primarily of polyamory, lesbianism, transgenderism, and transhumanism. There may be more I am forgetting to mention.

This game contains scenes depicting violence, body horror, and discussions about sexuality, abuse, and trauma. This game is meant for a more mature audience than the others on this list. Some sound effects and music in the game can be jarring. There may be content warnings I am forgetting to put here.

The game has three major story routes and three endings, and each playthrough takes around four to five hours depending on reading speed. At minimum, you will need to play this game three times.

Heaven Will Be Mine is available for $15 USD on Steam, iOS, and itch.io. It should be noted that the price on iOS is different than on other platforms, being listed at $5 USD.

In Stars And Time (2023)

In Stars And Time is a turn-based RPG developed by insertdisc5 (she/they) and published by Armor Games Studios. Music for the game is composed by Studio Thumpy Puppy.

The story follows your typical RPG party, starting the day before the final dungeon and final boss. However, when you go in, you get caught in a trap and die. Time suddenly rewinds, and you find yourself at the day before your party entered the dungeon. You are caught in a time loop, and must find a way to stop the final boss and escape the loops.

Gameplay mostly consists of turn-based combat with enemies, and making the right dialogue choices when talking to NPCs and your party members. There are several puzzles throughout the game that encourage you to use the looping mechanic to solve them.

Queer rep in this game consists of transgenderism (transmasc and nonbinary explicitly, but there are some characters that can be interpreted as transfem, agender, and/or genderfluid), aromanticism, asexuality, lesbianism and homosexuality, and a plot thread that involves t4t romance. All six major characters have canonical pronoun sets. There may be more rep I am forgetting to include here in this list.

This game contains scenes of mild violence, self-hatred and other heavy mental heath topics, one scene of child endangerment, unreality, and optional scenes involving self-harm and suicide.

The average playtime for this game is 26 hours, which increases to 36 depending on how much optional content you engage with. There is technically one ending, but an optional plot thread can get you an alternate version of the ending screen. This plot thread is highly encouraged to be followed.

In Stars And Time is available for $20 USD on Steam, itch.io, Nintendo Switch, and PS4 and PS5.

There is also a previous title titled START AGAIN: a prologue, which is available on Steam and itch.io. This game does not need to be played to understand In Stars And Time, but is highly recommended nonetheless.

Some personal anecdotes regarding each of these games:

In Stars And Time is one of the few games where I saw a character (Siffrin in this case), pointed at them, and said "They're just like me!"

We Know The Devil and Heaven Will Be Mine both have themes of queer solidarity in the face of oppression and it fills me with rebellious rage (positive).

ANATOMY is one of my favorite games ever made, and is objectively the scariest game I have ever played.

Almost all of these games have made me almost cry, which is a very high bar for a game to reach. The only one that didn't is ANATOMY, mostly because it evokes more fear than it does tears for me.

We Know The Devil in particular evokes a very specific nostalgia for me, so the setting and characters hit differently for me than they may for others.

I played In Stars And Time shortly after a breakup and consequently developed the most horrific crush on the character Isabeau. It is frankly quite embarrassing.

[herejusttosufferalong]

Ehhh totally understand if you don't post this because it's depressing af. I'm choosing violence today. I was awash with lovey dovey feelings for our couple after re-watching L&N interviews, re-watching B3, re-watching BTS footage. I was full to the brim with LOVE. These guys had me in a choke-hold. Actually had me reviewing and reflecting on my life and relationships, adding so much joy and self-acceptance, reflecting on my self-worth, improving my world view. Allowing me to breathe in deeply, and expand myself in ways I didn't expect it to.

BUT yesterday was a mess. For so many reasons, not just because of L&N-related content. There were some bad vibes circulating. Then I made a really poor life decision last night. I decided to do some stalking of third parties, which I don't normally do. And of course, it had to be the night where said parties were posting and I saw all things unfolding in real time. My predictions were coming true in real time. It was like the granting of a wish in reverse. And look, I'm not naive to think that these things aren't happening, but when you see it unfold in front of you, it just hits differently. These people are so. fkn. toxic. It drains the life from me. The same occurred this morning when I awoke to see a timeline of HBS. I knew about it, but seeing it, with receipts, fkn disgusted me to my core. It was a visceral reaction. All of a sudden, what looked cute and puppy dog became unsafe and ugly. My empathy dissolved. The thing that gave me the most discomfort was the possible connection to the young dancer who was in B3. It made me think such awful things. (the worst being, is he just a fuck boy who was starved during tour?).

But why, why does it have such an effect? I don't interact with these people, no real relationship. So why? I think because we have been sold a certain narrative, through B3 and the press tour, that being authentic, having depth, focusing on 'the real bones' of people is paramount. Beyond the aesthetic. 'The truth will set you free' kind of thinking, right? And here we have the literal antithesis to that. People who promote and value aesthetic over substance. People who are egocentric and appear to have a very limited worldview. People you expect more from given they sold that 'depth narrative' looking you in the eye. People who are old enough to know better. People who choose to surround themselves with younger folk so that personal growth is disallowed. People who care more about their shallow life fulfillment, their hedonistic desires, than the feelings of others whom they purport to love and care about. People who hide behind ignorance, as if that negates them from consequence. The stereotype celebrity. It's truly deflating. I expected so much more.

And my original thinking of 'oh it's ok, he needs to grow and learn from his mistakes, he needs to find himself...", well, I'm finding it more and more difficult to believe. Because why give him grace? Why is he deserving of grace? Because he acted real well? What does he add to society? What do these fked up people add to this already fked up world? You've got N literally changing a whole landscape, waving her wand and creating light in darkness, urging us to think deeply while laughing at the same time. And no, we don't all possess that kind of magic, but hell, shouldn't we all be striving to be authentic, kind, thoughtful people? Shouldn't we try to promote these things if we believe in them?

Look, in this life, people are always showing you who they really are, telling you exactly what they value, what fills them up, and it's up to us to really look and listen. I'm disappointed in myself for not properly seeing what was in front of me all this time... You can't change those who do not want to be changed. My respect and my fucks given need to be earned, and honestly, we need to reflect on our own self-respect if we are willing to fawn over or idolise someone undeserving. As always, I have hope for people, but I'm no longer holding my breath.

Please, give me that Xanax and wake me up when September ends.

#fkeverything #ohthereyouareteenangst

.

[sleepingelvhen]

Smutty Drabbles [1]

Doctor Veritas Ratio/Al-Haitham/Wriothesley

Just a few quickly written NSFW drabbles to keep you all satisfied while I work on my next multi-chapter stories.

Masterlist

🌹 I hope these are satisfactory. 🌹

As always, Minors please DO NOT interact or follow

VERITAS RATIO

Doctor Ratio wasn’t someone to fuck with. Especially in an academic setting. He was shrewd, detail-oriented, and unafraid to tell someone they were an idiot if he thought so. No one was safe from his scrutinization, words one didn’t know existed were tossed at people, confusing them as he insulted their idiocy. 

Yet, it wasn’t truly his intention to ‘insult’ people. Veritas’ idea of an idiot was simply someone who didn’t try to access the knowledge that should be available for every person in the universe. It wasn’t difficult for him to gain knowledge, why shouldn’t everyone have the chance? But idiots don’t understand that because they are willfully ignorant. And that pisses Veritas off more than anything in the world. He could handle stupid questions, he could deal with ignorance as that could easily be cured or redirected. But idiocy…willful idiocy…it was a sickness that couldn’t be cured simply because a true idiot didn’t care to become more than they could be.

Everyone was capable of more, he hated when people squandered the many chances to become more. 

But a man like that wasn’t free from carnal desires. Often he found it easy to ignore such baser needs, his nose buried in a book, in his personal studies, and in simply enjoying his warm baths. It irritated him when he met you, your intellect and willingness to overcome your hurdles made him desire so much. He wondered why you made him feel this way. Veritas surrounded himself with intelligent people, only allowed smart people to be his friends and he had plenty of the opposite sex. But it was you that drew these feelings out. Preposterous. 

He hated that, and yet he found himself in his bath, book sitting to the side, his hand wrapped around his weeping cock. He was loud when he felt such pleasure, body twitching as he rubbed, rolling his wrist to pull out that feeling.

What did your voice do to him? Such a lilting noise, one that overwhelmed his head, so perfect he heard it even now in his lonesome. He moaned out. A pathetic noise, he thought to himself, to allow himself this weakness. But it felt so good, and the image in his mind was irresistible. Your body, legs wrapped firmly around his waist, him driving his cock up into you over and over again. He imagined how you might sound, guttural moans being ripped from your throat. Oh, how he would fuck you senseless. Veritas threw his head back, gasping for air as his cum joined the now cold bath water, breathless as the warmth of his release spread through his body, accompanied by the shame of his actions.

His wiped his face, gritting his teeth as he uttered a curse at himself. But he would see you tomorrow, so perfect in your outfit, carrying books and notepads, watching you head to your next class. More fuel to the fire that he found utterly impossible to quell inside of him. What would you think of him if you saw him now?

AL-HAITHAM

Not many people really noticed Al-Haitham. Not until he was promoted to Acting Grand Sage and then his life as a quiet, ‘feeble’, scholar was utterly disrupted. People flooded his new office, the advice box filling up nearly every single day, and the amount of people throwing themselves at him. Al-Haitham rubbed his temples, if it wasn’t people wanting him to sign off on thesis papers, there were people trying to get on his good side in the most fake, sickening way. He’s had random men and women vying for his attention with flirtations he simply ignored, he’s had people beg him on their knees for favors with the promises of the most disgusting things imaginable. 

He couldn’t stand it. People bothering him was the reason he had his headphones, the white noise usually enough to keep him from hearing any background noise. But with everyone in his face, the headphones lost their purpose and with his position, it was practically impossible to avoid talking to people. 

Al-Haitham’s home was his reprieve, unable to find himself sane enough to deal with Kaveh’s yammering or even wanting to go out with Cyno and Tighnari. People got on his nerves.

And yet when you came to him for advice, you seemed to be the only person that didn’t throw yourself at him. Simple advice, kind smiles, intelligent approaches and ideas. Al-Haitham found it refreshing. Which turned to him accepting to go to coffee with you, his mind relaxing the more you visited, the exhaustion of handling his duties disappearing when you were a part of the equation.

He had no idea what this meant until the day you came over to his place for his help studying. Which ended with him pressing you into the table, your ‘study session’ turning into him fucking you stupid. He hadn’t dealt with these desires much before. Obviously, as a human, he had the urges before but promptly ignored them, no true interest in the feeling. His time was better spent on books and studying. 

But as soon as he had heard your teasing tone, when he saw you relaxed in his home, somehow he found himself burning in a way he couldn’t ignore. 

You were addicting, and the feeling of his cock stuffed into you was enough to make him go mad. Like he had learned forbidden knowledge, he lost all control over himself. Your touch, your body squirming under him, your loud moans beneath his gasps and groans. It drove him utterly mad. After that day, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to keep his hands off of you.

WRIOTHESLEY

What an intimidating presence Wriothesley held, his confidence intimidating, his strength infamous in the brawling ring in the Fortress of Meropide. Most people were smart enough not to piss him off. But on occasion he had to show people who was the boss, the duke that kept things in order. 

Seeing him in action, seeing him truly pissed off, was terrifying and most people who got to see such rage never thought about going against him or getting on his nerves ever again. 

Wriothesley’s life was stressful to say the least. Dealing with criminals day in and day out, barely ever getting to see the sun, surrounded by pressures upon pressures of water and crime, it was horribly exhausting. There was barely any way to unwind for him aside from punching people in a brawl or two. Sometimes a chat with Sigewinne helped him out, and of course his many, many tea breaks. But other than that, he had to hide his stress under cocky smiles and easy jokes.

Your smile and laughter had shocked him a little when you first met him. One of Neuvillette’s workers, sent down to the fortress to help assist him as things got more out of hand, and you were so patient and understanding. He couldn’t help the feelings in him that surged even more out of hand than the criminals.

You walked with confidence, unafraid of the denizens of the fortress, and completely unafraid of him. Even after you witnessed one of the rare moments when he lost control of his temper. Instead, you comforted him and talked him through it.

Unsurprising to everyone, it didn’t take long for him to claim you as his. Pounding into you from behind, all feral growls and teeth, praise spilling from his lips. 

‘You take me so well’

‘Such a good fucking girl’

Messes became common in his office, cock driving in and out, breeding you. Hands gripping your ass, your thighs. Loud echoes as he slapped and bit and fucked you completely senseless. But full of affection as he moaned praise and love into your ears. He was addicted, so addicted that he’d take you multiple times a day. Tea time became more common between the two of you, and walking became more difficult as the days passed. 

One of the only people that knew about his past and didn’t judge him for his crimes. A person that treated him with real respect, respect that wasn’t conditional. He wouldn’t let you go, not with a pussy like yours wrapped around him day in and day out.

[dani3lricciard0]

Dancing With The Devil

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: Rose is Lando's childhood best friend, who has finally landed her dream job as the social media admin for the McLaren Formula 1 team. On her first day of the job, she meets McLaren's new driver, Daniel Ricciardo, and they are off to a rocky start.

Warnings: None for now, but it will get spicier in future parts

A/N: This is a bit of a long one, but is mainly setting the scene for the rest of the chapters. It's my first time writing an enemies to lovers vibe like this so all feedback is welcomed!

Chapter One - First Impressions

next

15th February 2021

The sleek, modern architecture of the McLaren Technology Centre stretched before you, its glass panels gleaming under the setting sun. You took a second to breathe while taking in your surroundings before stepping inside. Today was your first day as the social media admin for McLaren. You'd dreamed of working in Formula 1 ever since you were a child, spending most of your weekends at karting tracks watching my your best friend, Lando Norris, working to achieve his own dream of reaching Formula 1. The excitement and nervousness churned within you as you adjusted your camera strap and checked your phone one last time, heading towards the entrance.

The launch of the MCL35M was in full swing, with engineers, drivers, media, influencers and other guests buzzing around the latest McLaren masterpiece. You manoeuvred through the crowd, taking a few quick pictures, but desperately searching for a familiar face.

Eventually, you spot Lando talking with his engineers, his infectious grin greeting you as you approach.

"Rose! You made it!" Lando exclaimed, pulling you in for a brief hug. "Welcome to the team!"

"Thanks, Lando," you replied with a smile. "I can't believe I'm here."

"You're going to kill it," he said confidently, bumping his shoulder into yours, before walking you around the event, introducing you to key team members and ensuring you felt at ease.

As the event progressed, you immersed myself in your new role, capturing candid moments of the team and guests, documenting interviews, and the stunning details of the newly unveiled MCL35M. You were having so much fun, it didn't feel much like work at all.

You found a chair to sit and review some of the pictures and videos you'd taken so far, when you heard someone clear their throat above you. You looked up to find Daniel Ricciardo, Lando's new team member, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. God, he's beautiful in person, you thought.

"You ever put that phone down?" he quipped, his Australian accent laced with a hint of mischief.

You straightened, caught off guard by his casual jab. "It's kind of my job," you retorted, attempting to maintain an air of professionalism.

Daniel scoffed, taking a sip of his drink. "Sure.. but don't you think you're missing out on the real action, looking at everything through a screen?"

You bristled slightly at his comment, not understanding where the hostility was coming from considering this was your first interaction. "Without this screen, no one outside of this room would get to see any of the action. I'm here to make them feel connected to the team."

Daniel leaned closer, giving you a whiff of his cologne. It would have been intoxicating if you weren't so distracted by the way he was making you feel like you were doing something wrong. "Seems to me like you're here for virtual validation. What are you, an influencer?" he said, his face twisting into a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling the irritation rise. "I work for McLaren, asshole," you state firmly. "I'm the social media admin, today is my first day."

His smirk faded slightly, replaced with a puzzled expression. "Oh, so you're not just here for the followers?"

"No," you replied tersely, crossing your arms defensively. "I'm here to promote you, make you look good. Seems like I have my work cut out for me."

Before Daniel could respond, Lando appeared behind him and smiled down at you. "Hey, guys," he said, oblivious to the tense atmosphere he'd just walked into. "I see you've met my best friend," he said cheerfully, clapping a hand on Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel's demeanour shifted almost imperceptibly, his mind whirring with cynical amusement. So, that's how she got the job, he thought to himself, a flicker of understanding colouring his expression. He glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he replied to Lando.

"Ah, yeah," Daniel replied casually, flashing a charming grin. "Just getting acquainted with the new social media whiz here."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Daniel's thinly veiled sarcasm, but kept your mouth shut for Lando's sake.

"That's great," Lando said. "Rose is going to do great things here," he said proudly.

"Thanks, Lando," you replied sincerely, grateful for his support despite his complete lack of awareness. With that, Lando excused himself to greet other guests, leaving you and Daniel in an awkward silence. You turned back to your work, feeling Daniel's gaze on you but choosing to ignore it, hoping he'd take the hint.

Soon enough, he sauntered off to mingle with other guests, and you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. You couldn't help but feel disappointed at your first interaction with the Australian driver, who had always seemed like a genuinely nice person. You sighed, deciding that perhaps that was all a product of the marketing teams for his previous F1 teams. You really did have your work cut out for you.

As the event drew to a close, Lando found you once again. "Hey, you," he beamed. "A few of us are going for a drink if you wanna join?"

"I'd love to," you replied gratefully, eager to relax after a busy day.

As you settled in to the booth at a nearby bar, Lando held up his glass. "To Rose," he smiled across at you. "Congratulations on your first day." Everyone raised their glasses towards you, offering you their congratulations. You got to know everyone, feeling a real sense of family among the team.

Mid-conversation, Daniel sauntered into the bar, approaching the booth. "Hey, everyone," he greeted, exchanging nods and hellos with the team before settling in next to Lando.

"Daniel, good to see you," Lando greeted warmly. "We're just celebrating Rose's first day with the team."

Daniel's eyes briefly flickered to me, an unreadable expression on his face. "Oh, Rose, I almost didn't recognise you without your nose buried in your phone," he remarked, with that awful smug expression crossing his face once again.

You roll your eyes at him, the irritation you felt towards him earlier returning instantly. "Believe it or not, work isn't the only thing I do."

"Right, work. Must be nice working with your best bud here, eh?" He says, tilting his head towards Lando. "Always good to have friends in high places."

Your expression tightened, detecting the jab in his words. You resist the urge to react impulsively, knowing it won't help your cause. "Sure, connections matter, but so does competence," you reply, voice tinged with frustration.

Lando, finally sensing the atmosphere between you and Daniel for the first time this evening, gently placed his hand on the table. "Okay, we're meant to be celebrating! I think it's time for more drinks," he suggested with a bright smile, attempting to diffuse the tension.

As Lando headed to the bar, the conversation shifted to the upcoming season. They discussed the challenges of the new regulations, the dynamics within the team, and the potential of the new car. You found it difficult to engage fully, your mind still preoccupied with Daniel's pointed remarks.

Daniel sat back in his seat and took a sip of his drink, turning his head towards you. "So, Rose, tell me more about how you landed this gig." he quizzed, voice tinged with doubt.

You sighed inwardly, steeling yourself against his probing. "I went through the hiring process like everyone else," you replied evenly, keeping your tone neutral.

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, but you must have had a leg up, right?" he pressed.

You looked into his eyes for the first time since he sat down, your frustration reaching a new level. "I don't know what you're implying, but I earned my place here," you asserted firmly.

"Sure, but sleeping with a driver must have helped." He said, nodding towards Lando.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh come on, no need to be embarrassed. You're not the only one," he said with the smirk that seemed to be permanently etched into his features.

"You're disgusting." you shot back, the words slipping out louder than intended as you pushed back from the table, rising to your feet just as Lando returned to the table with a tray of drinks.

"Woah, everything okay over here?" he asked, glancing between you and Daniel.

You met Lando's gaze, your frustration evident. "Yeah, I think I'm done here," you replied avoiding Daniel's gaze, knowing he'd be relishing in your outburst.

Lando's expression softened with concern as you grabbed your bag. "Are you sure? It's still early," he said gently, placing the drinks on the table.

You nodded, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, it's been a long day. I just need to get some rest."

"Okay, get home safe," Lando said, pulling you in for a hug before you said your goodbyes to the rest of the team. Daniel leaned back in his seat, not looking at you. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes - a hint of regret or realisation, perhaps.

Outside of the bar, the cool night air offered a moment of relief. You took a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to shake off the tension that had built up over the evening. This wasn't how your first day was meant to go.

Driving home, you reflected on the evening's events. This was your dream job, and you were going to fight to prove you belonged here. You knew from the get-go that this was a male dominated sport, and you weren't about to let Daniel Ricciardo, or anyone for that matter, make you feel like you didn't deserve your place. His scepticism was just another hurdle to overcome.

[misc-obeyme]

Hello! Congrats on on getting to 1000 followers! Your writing is great!

For the event, may I request the NSFW prompt #9 "You have no idea how much I want you" with Asmodeus?

Thank you and congrats again!

Hello!! Ahh you're so sweet, I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing! <3

Okay, this is the first smut I've written for Asmo so I hope it turned out okay! I tried to keep the reader's outfit vague so it can be imagined as anything.

Thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event! (There are only two prompts left!)

GN!MC x Asmodeus with prompt "You have no idea how much I want you."

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: fingering & penetration (reader receiving), er... does this count as semi-public? I think it might lol. Please correct me if I'm wrong!

Everybody knew that Asmodeus threw the best parties. So it was no surprise when you showed up to the Fall and found it packed with people. You sat at the bar for a while, taking in the music, the lights, the noise of the demons around you chatting and laughing.

You could see Asmo from where you sat, surrounded by beautiful demons all jostling for his attention. He was often in the middle of a group consisting mainly of his fans. You watched fondly as he interacted with them. He was in his element - greeting everyone, happily taking selfies, and always smiling brightly.

Although the event was taking place at the Fall, it was actually a promotion for a high end luxury perfume. Asmo himself was wearing it, of course, but there were also samples. It was a subtle scent, but it lingered in the air of the club.

Asmo was wearing a beautifully tailored suit with pink embellishments. His hair was immaculate as always, his skin glowing. He looked amazing and you couldn't help feeling happy simply by watching him.

And then he looked across the room and saw you. The way his face lit up made your heart race. He had been smiling the whole time you'd been watching him, but now his smile was radiant. Knowing you made him feel that way caused your stomach to flutter.

Asmo cheerfully spoke to the people around him while also making his way toward you.

You decided to make it a little easier by slipping off your seat and moving toward him.

Eventually, the two of you met in the middle and you found Asmo's arms around you before you could even say anything.

Although he was wearing the same perfume that you had been smelling this whole time, there was something else you could sense in the scent, something uniquely Asmo. It made your skin tingle. Or perhaps that was the way he was holding you.

"MC," he said, close to your ear so you could hear him over the noise. "I'm so happy you came! You look fabulous, as always."

Your outfit consisted almost entirely of things that Asmo had gifted you. This was because you wanted to look nice and you knew his choices would never steer you wrong.

"You're the one who looks amazing," you said, letting yourself relax in his embrace.

Asmo laughed gently. "Oh, hun, it's really good to see your sweet face. I love interacting with my fans, of course, but being with you is just so much better."

You looked over his shoulder at the fans who were still milling around behind him. "I don't think your fans like me all that much."

Asmo glanced behind him before turning back to you with an amused expression. "They're just jealous. Don't worry about it. Why don't we go somewhere a little more… private?"

You cocked your head at this, but didn't say anything as he took your hand and pulled you across the room.

You soon found yourself in one of the VIP rooms. The lighting was dim, there was Demonus already poured into two glasses, and you could just barely hear the music from nearby.

You didn't really have much of a chance to take in this new location before Asmo was kissing you, his hands gripping your waist.

You gasped against his lips as you felt your back meet the wall.

Asmo kissed along your jaw and then your neck before pausing to rest his head on your shoulder. His voice was low and breathy in your ear. "Seeing you here tonight reminded me that you're the only one who truly knows me. You're the only one who matters. You have no idea how much I want you."

The last words made you shiver beneath his touch. You gripped his jacket, arching your back as you pulled him in closer to you, feeling his body flush against yours. "I want you, too, Asmo…"

Asmo responded by kissing you again, hot and heavy. You opened your mouth for him as you pushed off his suit jacket. It fell to the floor, forgotten.

You found Asmo's shirt already had the several top buttons undone. You began to run your hands along his chest, up under the shirt, gripping his shoulders.

You pulled away to catch your breath, gasping in air as you pressed yourself against him. You could feel his erection on your thigh as he buried his face in your neck and moaned softly.

Asmo's hand traveled up your thigh, pausing before touching you further. "MC," he whispered against your neck. "Is this okay? Can I… ?"

You knew that if you said yes, you would soon find yourself having an orgasm against the wall in a VIP room at the Fall. There was something thrilling about that thought. And there was something about knowing that he needed you so bad he couldn't wait until you went home.

Most importantly, though, you trusted Asmo.

"Yes, Asmo," you said. "Please-"

Asmo made short work of your clothes, getting just enough of it out of the way so he could have access to the throbbing hot space between your legs. You weren't idle, either, unbuckling his pants and pulling out his cock.

He sucked in a breath when you wrapped your hand around it. Then you were trying to hold back your cries as his fingers expertly teased you. Your knees were already shaking, but you managed to hold onto his cock, making him moan prettily into your ear as you continued to stroke it.

Asmo put his forehead against yours. "Tell me how you feel, darling. Tell me what you want me to do."

"I-I," you said, not quite able to form a coherent sentence while his fingers were stimulating you. "Ahh, Asmo, I want you inside me…"

Asmo didn't need to hear anything else. He took his fingers away from you. The tips of them were covered in your cum and he put them into his mouth briefly to suck them clean. And then he pulled your legs up, lifting you easily so you could wrap them around his hips.

Your arms circled his shoulders, holding on tight as he carefully buried himself deep inside you. A spike of heat radiated through your body as you felt him begin to move, slowly at first and then speeding up. One hand held you up and the other was back between your legs, his mouth roaming from your lips to your neck and back again.

You clutched onto him as each thrust filled you with a new wave of pleasure. That combined with the return of his fingers made the tension build inside you, tightening and tightening, until you felt yourself unravel, your mind going blank as you orgasmed hard on his cock.

Although you knew from previous experience that Asmo had amazing stamina and could keep going for much longer, you felt him squeeze you tightly and let himself cum, the sensation of being filled making you moan his name.

Asmo kissed you again, his lips sweet and lingering.

"You're so perfect, MC," he said. "All I want now is to take you home and keep you in my bed all night."

You laughed against his lips as he continued to kiss you. "If that's what you want, I won't stop you."

Asmo giggled at your response, his lips traveling over you again. Soon enough, you two would clean yourselves up and exit the club, making your way back to the House of Lamentation and the peaceful seclusion of Asmodeus's bed. But for that moment, you were content to stay where you were, your legs still wrapped around him, his arms holding you tightly, the feeling of his lips against your skin, the scent of sex now mixed with that of his delicate perfume.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[huramuna]

a maid's folly - chapter 6.

dark aemond x maid ofc minor aemond x floris baratheon work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

previous | next

summary: a new maid from the Vale arrives at the Red Keep during a tumultuous time and becomes ensnared in the One-Eyed prince's web.

word count: 3.7k

girl.... it took a bit to get here but i hope its worth it - please let me know what you think

warnings: smut (details below cut), power imbalance, religious guilt, dark Aemond, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, Aemond being a touch starved weirdo, possessiveness, jealousy, this is going to be ANGSTY

oh to be in love - kate bush • mary on a cross - ghost

chapter specific warnings: violence, blood, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, virginity loss, biting

The next few weeks were good ones for Rosemary– the best ones since her mother passed. She fell into a quick companionship with Helaena, accepting her oddities as fun quirks, rather than bits of madness that everyone else seemed to discount them as.

Helaena was smarter than people gave her credit for. She was witty with a great sense of humor, often poking fun at courtiers and other denizens of the castle. She had a lot of inside knowledge on the gossip and going-ons of the Keep, as people weren't afraid to speak openly while she was in earshot, citing her as daft and not paying attention.

Rosemary and Helaena sat shoulder to shoulder on the settee near the window. It was open, a crisp breeze tousling their hair. 

The princess had promoted Rosemary to her handmaiden, thus upgrading her wardrobe significantly. They matched now, as Rosemary wore light blue dresses, her hair down in a braid. Helaena usually leaned towards cooler colors, like flushed blues and light purples. 

“I've heard that Floris is pitching a fit over the flowers chosen for the wedding,” Helaena chattered, pricking a needle into the fabric stretched over an embroidery hoop-- she was working on a depiction of a blue carpenter bee, “Mother told me she cried when the florist brought in white tulips instead of yellow.”

Rosemary snorted a small giggle, her hands tangled in Helaena's hair, defting the tresses into intricate braids, “And how has your brother taken all of this?”

Helaena was privy to Aemond and Rosemary's 'situation', whatever it may be– it was ill-defined at the moment. The corners of her eyes crinkled into a grin, “He is running Vhagar ragged with how much he flies her. Mother said that when Floris began to weep, he slipped out of the hall and was gone for four hours.”

“Yes, that sounds about right.” the maid hummed. 

The weeks with Helaena had also proven fruitful for Aemond and Rosemary’s interactions– they were still few and far between, with Aemond expressing more restraint than he had before, but he visited Helaena’s chambers more often, citing brotherly love as his reasoning for his frequent social calls.

He entered that day as usual, his arms behind his back. His eye zeroed in on Rosemary, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. She wasn’t wearing her formless maid’s dresses any longer, as Helaena had her tailored for a few higher end pieces for her. They hugged her curves in the right places with a sweeping décolletage, exposing just the hinting swell of her chest, the light blue complimenting her complexion.

He had been visiting more lately, but the past few days had been taken up with frivolous wedding planning, and half a dozen flights on Vhagar. 

“Brother, you’re staring.” Helaena murmured.

He became all too aware of his surroundings, his mouth slightly dry and his clothes all too tight. It took him a moment to regain his stoic self, “I am merely trying to see what you’re embroidering, dear sister,” he walked forward, nodding his head to Rosemary, “My lady.” he mustered a greeting.

“Your grace,” she hummed in response, tying off Helaena’s braids with a small leather cord, “Would you like for me to braid yours as well?” she said it ever so innocently, but she was goading him. They were in each other’s proximity more often than not lately, with Rosemary often watching him spar in the courtyard from the spectator’s eaves They had developed a back and forth banter— he tested her limits with his witty remarks, and she teased him endlessly until she was all but sure that he would need to relieve himself later. It was a fun game, their little verbal spars, but Rosemary wondered when it would become reality. A man could only be teased so long. 

Aemond cleared his throat, “That won’t be necessary,” he glanced at her for a moment, his pupil blown wide. She knew she had him, hook, line and sinker. 

“Rosemary, weren’t you going to go to the market today?” Helaena redirected the conversation, “I know you had a few things to pick up.” 

The maid perked up, “Oh, yes— hm, I should get started now so mayhaps I’ll make it home before dark,” she squeezed Helaena’s shoulder affectionately, the princess leaning into her touch, “I will see you this evening, my lady,” she got up, smoothing out her dress, curtsying before Aemond, “My prince.” 

“Hm.” he grunted, letting her walk past him. 

She made a quick stop to her room, donning a cape jacket, her hands tying a ribboned, wide-brimmed sun hat to her head. Looping a bag around her shoulder, she set out to the corridors. 

Rosemary walked with purpose, reciting her list, “Lavender oil, honey cakes, lilac and blue thread, rock salt, goat’s milk…” she had her head down, navigating the halls absentmindedly. She brushed shoulders with someone, caught off guard by an anguished gasp. 

Stopping, she looked to see who she bumped, “My apologies,” Rosemary murmured, seeing that it was… Floris Baratheon. She recognized her from passing through Maegor’s Holdfast going to and from Helaena’s chambers, “My lady.” 

Floris scoffed, “Yes, well, watch where you are going,” she looked Rosemary up and down, a flicker of something akin to recognition passing through her eye, “Ah, you’re the princess’ handmaiden, are you not?” 

“Yes, my lady.” 

“I see,” she clicked her tongue, seemingly mulling over something in her head, “Where are you heading in such a hurry, then?”

“I have to pick up a few things from the markets, my lady— I wish to get back before it gets dark.” 

Floris blinked slowly, her hands coming together, “Ah. The markets,” she repeated, “Enjoy your errands.” 

Rosemary curtsied hurriedly, walking away. She had already wasted enough time dawdling. 

The trip down to the market square was fairly uneventful— she managed to get lost once or thrice, still unfamiliar with the layout of the city; she had only visited through it once before arriving at the Keep. 

She haggled with her fair share of merchants and most definitely overpaid for most things. It was a wonder that she managed to somehow haggle up the price. 

The last thing she retrieved was the goat’s milk— it wasn’t to be drinken, but to be added to her and Helaena’s baths. Rosemary had fond memories of her mother drawing her a hot bath and pouring flower oils and goat or sheep’s milk into it, along with the chipped pieces of rock salt. It left her feeling soft and fresh and she wished to experience it once again. 

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Helaena warned Rosemary to not be in King’s Landing at night and to always come back before the sun set. 

Rosemary gnawed at her bottom lip as she tried to retrace her steps. She could see the Red Keep up on the hill, but when she tried to navigate there, she ended up being cut off by dead ends, empty alleys, and paths looming with unsavory characters. 

She felt the bubble of panic rising in her chest, her thumb nail sinking into the soft of her palm. Her lip began to bleed from her incessant biting upon it in her anxiety driven state. 

Turning down another alley, she was met with a dead end again. Tears pricked at her eyes, feeling frustrated and helpless— how idiotic could she be to get lost? She could see the Keep but couldn’t reach it. 

Moving to retreat from the alley, she saw a hooded figure at the end of it, awaiting her. Her heart instantly jumped into her stomach and she froze. The dying light of the sun glinted off of something in its hand— a weapon. 

The tears came in full force now as she dropped her bag, backing up further against the wall. The figure descended upon her, brandishing a knife. It was a man, stocky and older. His breath smelled of decay and rot— he was hissing at her, like some kind of animal. 

Rosemary put her arms up to shield against the first swing, she had seen Aemond do something similar in his training sessions with Ser Criston– of course, he was a seasoned swordsman and usually swathed off an attack with a weapon, so this method was nowhere near as effective as he made it look— it ripped through the fabric of her dress, slicing against her arms. She whimpered in pain but shoved forward against him, knocking him off his balance. He kept up his garbled hissing, as if he was trying to say something. 

“Take my bag— the money is in there, just l-leave me be!” Rosemary cried, kicking the bag towards him. 

The man couldn’t look less interested as he regained his footing, coming in again for the second time. This attempt was fruitful as he knocked Rosemary to the ground— he was on top of her, slicing wildly, his mouth agape. He had no tongue. She tried to keep her arms up to stop him from hitting anything vital, the blade cutting through her skin like ribbons. She cried in pain, kicking and screaming, her blood trickling down onto her face, her dress.

Her life flashed before her eyes— her mother, Jeyne, Helaena, the children— Aemond. 

Suddenly, the man was dead weight against her and the dangerous edge of a sword poked through the front of his skull, mere inches from Rosemary’s face. 

It all felt like a haze, a blur. Was she already dead? She felt so cold, the rivulets of blood flowing across her skin feeling like shards of ice. Her vision closed and blackened around her. 

The weight of the man was kicked off of her and then she was scooped up— she was no longer cold, but warm. She was warm, like in a goat’s milk and lavender oil bath, the steamy water enveloping her like a second skin. She had to be dead, surely. 

“Rosemary,” a voice, familiar, murmured, “Stay awake. Fucking hell, I shouldn’t of let you go alone.” 

She glanced up, her vision still muddied and red— her own blood had dripped into her eyes, stinging. But she realized who was holding her, the flash of a single violet eye burning through her. Aemond.

“Ae… mond,” she whispered. 

“Don’t speak,” he grunted, “Just… stay awake, okay?” 

She didn’t know how long it was until the air around her turned from the flowing outdoor air, to a dank and almost tepid air. It was dark now, flashes of torches dancing in her eyes. 

Then she was set down— on something soft. It smelled like sandalwood and smoke. A bed. Aemond’s bed. 

He sat next to her, bandaging her arms, “You did good putting your arms up,” he said, wrapping the soft, spongy cloth material taut around the worst of her wounds, “Where did you learn that?”

Rosemary blinked, “… been watching you spar… recently,” she responded softly, “I might’ve… picked up a thing or two.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. It made her chest feel aflutter. “Hm,” he mused, “I never saw you there but once.”

“I was hiding… didn’t wish to distract you.” 

Aemond snorted then, rolling his eye, “Chin up,” his hand softly lifted up her head as he wiped a damp, lukewarm cloth over her face, cleansing the blood from her skin. 

“How did you know?”

He made a small noise of discontentment, “You were bound to find yourself in trouble. I saw you overpay for all of your items today, far above market price,” he looked away for a moment, “I can’t say I expected this to happen. But it… was good I was there, I suppose.” the cloth eased over her eyes, helping her sight come back into focus. 

She blinked profusely a few times, tears gathering at her waterline– not just from the irritation, but emotion. “... I don’t know what to say…”

Aemond put the cloth aside, “Usually, this is where one says ‘thank you’,” he chided, citing her taunt at him from a few weeks earlier, “How is the pain?”

Twisting her arms, she sucked in a breath of pain, “... hurts.” 

“It will for a while and will likely scar. But, better a scar than your life,” he hummed, his hand flexing and relaxing absentmindedly, “I’ll bring you a salve for them so they won’t mar your skin as terribly.” his hand reached for hers, turning her palm up. He was gentle, his skin warm.

“... thank you,” she murmured, closing his hand between both of hers, wincing at bit at the movement. “I don’t understand… he didn’t want my money or items– he was actively trying to kill me. To just kill me.”

Aemond looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, his mouth wrought into a thin line, “King’s Landing is a dangerous place– the Red Keep even more so. I… will try to figure out what it was– mayhaps a purposeful attack.”

“Purposeful? Why would anyone want to kill me?” 

“You are the princess’ handmaiden– you have eyes and ears into a lot of affairs in the Keep and perhaps you overheard something you shouldn’t have,” he let go of her hands for a moment, but not before rasping his thumb over her knuckles. He then began to pace. “Have you heard anything odd lately? Some conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to?”

Rosemary only now just saw how distraught Aemond looked– his hair was down completely, the leather tie used to pull it back to the nape of his neck gone, likely broken off. His hands were stained with blood, her blood, and the blood of her would-be killer. He looked a bit flushed, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, his footfalls heavy and filled with emotion– not like his usual silent, detached movements. 

“Aemond,” she murmured. He didn’t stop his pacing, muttering to himself, “Aemond. Aemond!” she raised her voice slightly, causing his head to snap towards her. “Please– we can worry about it all later, just… come here.”

He looked perplexed by her tone and loudness, but walked over anyway.

 In turn, she reached over and took an extra dampened cloth, holding out her hand, “Let me help.” she asked.

He sat down next to her on the bed, the mattress dipping under him. He bobbed his knee incessantly as Rosemary took his hands and washed them of the grime and blood. His jaw was clenched, his muscles taut as if he wanted to spring into action or mayhaps run out of the room.

“Relax,” she grumbled, “I should be the one nervous, not you.”

“I am nervous– you… you were almost killed. I was almost too late, Rosemary,” he spoke, his voice breaking from its usual even tone into something soft and more raw, “What the fuck would we have done if you were… slaughtered by some ingrate? Helaena and the children– they would be heartbroken,” he took in a sharp breath, “... I would be… devastated as well.”

Rosemary stowed away the cloth, her hands not once leaving his. Slowly and cautiously, she intertwined their fingers. It was an intimate gesture, something soft and soothing. She could feel her heart catch in her throat, her ears burning. “Well, you weren’t too late, were you?” she whispered, her voice almost silent. She glanced up at him, those big brown eyes of hers piercing a hole right through him, right into his soul. 

Untangling one hand from hers, his hand came beneath her chin, tilting it upward. “I might’ve burned this whole fucking city down if I was,” he murmured, leaning forward. They were so close, their lips ghosting over one another.

She felt the heat rise in her stomach, feelings jittering around against her ribcage like some of Helaena’s butterflies. Her eyes flicked to his lips, then back to his eye– she inhaled as she leaned in– and in turn, he did as well.

Their lips met– it was soft but intense all at once, the butterflies in her chest breaking free in a cacophony of emotion. It was chaste at first, their lips melding together like two puzzle pieces– before her lips parted slightly and she tilted forward more, her free hand coming up to his chest, but wavering. “C-can I touch you?” she asked, her words pressed against his mouth.

“Please– please touch me,” he practically pleaded, “I’ve waited so long.” 

Her hand slid up his chest slowly, her brow knitting in discomfort as her wounds pressed against the bandages. 

He took note of this, placing her hands on his hips and a likely more comfortable position for her. 

She hummed contentedly as she leaned farther into him, her lips parting once more to accommodate his tongue slipping into her mouth. She needed more of him, pressing as close as she could. She wanted to crawl inside of his ribcage and live there. It was something of comfort.

“Lay down,” he said, breaking their intimate closeness for just a moment, earning a disappointed whimper from her. “I need to taste you.”

Rosemary swallowed heavily, nodding slowly. “I’ve– I’ve never… done this before,” she breathed, “I’m still a maiden.” she scooted back to lay on the soft pillows, looking down. Her dress was a torn mess.

“All the reason to go slow, little lamb,” he responded in turn, edging up the skirt of her dress, “Tell me to stop if you need to.”

Biting her lip, she nodded. The feather light touch of his hand on her leg made her shiver, a coil of warm settling in her core. 

His hands, calloused and rough as they were, felt like smooth silk as they glided up her leg, bunching up her dress at her stomach. His fingers traced the stretch marks on her hips and thighs as if to commit them to memory. Aemond’s fingers hooked under her undergarments and slid them off– a wet strip of arousal prominently painted down the center of them. Grinning, he stowed them away in his pocket, “Hmm,” he hummed, using both hands to part her legs as if it were some great feat, like mounting a dragon or swinging a sword for the first time. “Beautiful.”

Rosemary felt her face go red as she looked down at him, his head between her legs. “Please.” she murmured, almost too quiet to hear.

She didn’t need to beg, not this time at least– he fulfilled her wish, licking a strip from the bottom of her parted folds up to her aching pearl, causing her to whimper. He was slow at first, eeking out every little sound he could out of her before beginning to feast, his tongue ringing circles around her sensitive bud, his hands gripping her thighs like he was a man staved, and she was his last meal before death.

Rosemary clutched the sheets, wanting to snap her legs close, but his strong grip kept them open– thank the Gods for that– the warmed coil inside of her slowly eking into a smolder. ‘A-Aemond, ah–” her first orgasm ripped through her like a bolt of lightning, her toes curling. Her legs wrapped around him as she clenched around nothing, whimpering his name like it was a prayer.

“That’s it,” he purred, “Bleating like a lamb for me– so soft, like I knew you’d be.”

She panted heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her death grip on his head weakened slightly, allowing him to slip from between her legs for just a moment. 

“Let's get this dress off, hm? I want to see all of you.”

“If you undress, too– I won’t be the only one naked,” she grumbled.

He happily obliged, stripping his doublet and trousers and kicking them away, all too eager to get her out of her dress. His fingers deftly undid the buttons, slipping it off of her. A hand palmed one of her heavy breasts, rubbing a nipple between his fore and middle finger. 

“Eyepatch,” she mewled between tiny moans, “Take it off.”

He was a bit more hesitant here– his thumb hooking under the strap. Pausing for a moment, he looked to Rosemary once more. 

She was disheveled, her face flushed red, her hair coming out of her braid and flowing behind her in pale blonde tresses. Her eyes were half-lidded, lips parted ever so slightly. She wanted him, she wanted all of him– it was evident.

Foregoing any more doubt, he discarded the eyepatch, revealing his sapphire implant. 

Her half lidded eyes grew into large saucers, her breath hitching in her throat. Rosemary didn’t say anything else, giving a hum of contentment before pulling him back onto the bed for another kiss. 

“Beautiful,” she cooed between kisses.

It was enough to make Aemond blush– hiding his bashfulness by slipping his tongue back into her mouth, palming his cock in his fist. He swiped the head against her folds, gathering the slick and slowly sliding it in. 

“Gods above,” he grit his teeth, “Fucking tight.” his lips pressed against her neck, he buried himself to the hilt in her, waiting for her approval.

“F-full,” she whimpered, needing a moment to adjust to his size and the overall new sensation, before she nodded for him to proceed.

He moved slowly again, starting at a measured, deliberate pace, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. 

Soon enough, she relaxed into his rocking motions, beginning to enjoy it. His pace increased as he left red marks on her neck, sucking and bruising the delicate skin there. He wanted to be gentle– but he was still a dragon, and dragons were wholly possessive. 

The room was filled with the sounds of her soft whimpering moans and his grunts– the symphony of skin slapping against skin. 

Aemond clenched, feeling the tell-tale sensation that he was close, “F-fuck,” he groaned against her skin, teeth biting into her now, “My lamb– my pretty lamb– you should be my fucking wife. You’re mine, mine, m– fuck–” he stilled his movements as he spilled inside of her, his fingers gripping her hips like soft putty. 

She clenched around him, feeling the warmth of his exertions spread through her. Sweat beaded at her forehead and chest as her hummingbird heart slowed down finally. 

He didn’t pull out yet– rather, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest, laying on his back now.

“Stay with me tonight– please. I wish to wake up next to you, if only this once.” he murmured, holding her close against his chest in his all encompassing hold.

“Of course, my dragon.”

taglist: @watercolorskyy @queen--kenobi @heartb8k2 @violetiss3lfish @toodlesxcuddles

[amuseoffyre]

A Purely Selfish Action

I've had the show running in the background while I've been working and this line tripped across my ear and made me realise this is how/why Aziraphale is going to save the world.

He knows the Second Coming is on its way and this time he's front and centre for the ride. The last time it was Armageddon (Antichrist Edition), Crowley appealed to Aziraphale's love of human things to get him on side: food, music, shows, nice wine.

Yes, Aziraphale has other reasons for standing his ground as well, but when it comes down to it, he is selfish. He wants to keep his things and his people safe and comfortable. He likes to be around his people and his things and being promoted to manage the Second Coming has cut him off from all of it. From his bookshop. From his books. From his little part of Soho. From his coffee shops and restaurants and the Ritz. And, most importantly, from Crowley.

There's a lot of mess surrounding their final interaction, both of them speaking at cross-purposes and actively not understanding why the other is doing what they are doing, but there can be no mistake that there is the love there. And I have absolutely zero doubts that the Metatron used Crowley as leverage against Aziraphale in ways we didn't see - there's a reason we were only shown parts of that conversation.

In Aziraphale's mind, if they're on the same side, then Crowley is safe. He's thought that since S1. "Heaven will win, of course". "You were an angel once". When Crowley rejects that, it is precisely a rejection of that - Heaven and angeldom and stepping back into that rut. Crowley makes it crystal clear that he would be happy with just Aziraphale. The love is there, from both sides. Instead of one saying "come away with me" we got the double-whammy "come away with me".

I'm absolutely certain that being stuck back in Heaven is Aziraphale's worst nightmare, especially without his emotional support demon. And the bigger the threat of Armageddon 2.0 grows, the more he realises what he will lose.

I don't doubt that any threat to Crowley will activate every Guardian instinct in that fluffy angel's head. Aziraphale has spent many a happy time letting Crowley rescue him from dangerous situations, but if anyone - anyone - threatens harm to his demon, Aziraphale Will Not Care For It.

I am so here for the territorial fierce Guardian of the Eastern Gate who puts his foot down and says "No, actually, this is my world, that is my city, that is my demon, and you are not destroying them, thank you very much. If you want to get to them you have to go through me and thank you very much for giving me all the powers of the highest of Archangels :)"