#i zoomed through his event story

[misty-moth]

Elbert’s my favorite. Confirmed. I’m going to hold him oh so gently and never let go because that’s what he deserves.

Look at him’s sweet lil face 🥺🥹

[pearlymel]

"The Masks We Wear"

Summary: as a journalist, you are itching to find the identity of this mysterious hero. But could it be that the hero is closer to you than you think?

Wc: 7.3k eat up

Warnings: Wriothesley x afab!reader, gn! reader, modern au, hero and villian au (one of each), reader is a journalist/cameraman, fluff, making out, crack (i laughed a lot writing this), angst (oops), one small sex scene, slightly under the influence, cursing, it's pretty unrealistic, petnames used: sunshine, love, and sweetheart.

Notes: i poured my heart and soul into this, i think it's my best piece so far ^^ give it a chance, maybe you'll love it. (Pleasepleasepleaseplease) Rbs are greatly appreciated!

Credits: banner art by the great @/danijaci

Click!

The city is absolutely beautiful today. No, no. It’s not because of the lights that makes the place brighter and a bit more magical, how it seems livelier with a group of teenagers laughing together while buying street foods together, or the old couple that seem still very much in love, the gentleman kneeling down and tying her shoes just to make sure she wouldn’t trip this time.

Humans can be cute, you think.

But of course, among those innocent ‘humans’ are those who desire destruction.

This time, you think you might have caught something in the shadows, and you stare intently at your camera, zooming it in to see the faintest color blending in with the darkness. Hair? A part of clothes? You don’t know, but you got it.

you have this obsession of finding out who the hero of this city was, or even the villian. Although, you would be technically be walking into death if you try finding out who the villian is.

Where did this hero come from? No one knows. Sure the crime rate has lowered, but it felt like the world became even more messed up.

It all started a couple of years ago when you were in your college days, one day almost dying from a falling building, and you thought you saw the scythe waiting to take your soul at that very moment but, no.

The mysterious hero of the city that you never thought you would never encounter carried the building with his super strength power, apparently.

He who has no name, took your hand and lead you into a safer area with the police.

cliché story, right. But that’s what got you into journalism and media now.

And let’s say… you’re too far into the deep black hole to back down now.

The almost blinding light made you come back to your senses, the sounds of engine roaring in the air as the bike approached you, and your shoulders were already slumped.

“How did you find me?” You raise your voice due to the loud engine running, covering parts of your vision from the light.

“Lucky guess.” Wriothesley replied gruffly, pulling his helmet off and shaking his head slightly to fix up his messy strands.

“Care to explain what on earth are you doing here in this shady alleyway? At nine thirty where the moon is out and wolves could be coming for you?” He starts scolding you, quirking an eyebrow when you give him the bored expression, and he immediately mimics it back.

“Taking pictures.”

“Of the rats?”

“Wriothesley.” You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in the air. “I understand your… obsession. But it could hurt you in the process, mentally and physically.”

You know he’s saying all this because he cares so much about you. Loves you too much that it would break his soul piece by piece if one day what you’re doing will hurt you.

“Hop in, sweetheart.” He hands you the extra helmet, and you take it with a sigh. Securing it around your head before taking your place behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revved the engine.

The whole ride back was silent, yet traffic, which entirely ruined the whole mood. With the constant car horns ringing in your ear.

You tap at his thigh to grab his attention, “Why’s it traffic?” You grumble, rising yourself from the seat to look at the row of cars trying to get through.

“Not any holidays or events i can think of,” he responds back to you.

Red mixed with orange fills your vision, suddenly the car at the very front explodes. The car parts flying in the air and landing at the other vehicles which makes you frozen in shock.

Wriothesley’s clenches his hands tightly as he turns the bike around, speeding his way far away from the scene. “Hold onto me tight, and don’t look back, you hear?” He yells enough to grab your attention, and your arms tightens around him, but you have your head turned around to see the people yelling and dashing out of the vehicles. You want to capture the moment with your phone so you could submit it in for the news, but you know more than to ignore Wriothesley right now.

It’s not rare to see destruction happen in your city, it’s just… terrifying every time anybody witnesses it.

Maybe it wasn’t an accident, maybe it was planned.

“You’re not allowed to go out after seven.” Wriothesley makes it clear to you with his firm tone as you both step inside your shared apartment, locking the apartment with a click. He then tosses his keys into a bowl on a small table, before turning to look at you.

“Are you seriously setting a curfew for me? Please. what happened was not new—”

Your face is now being cradled by his rough hands, but the way he swipes a thumb under your eyebags really makes you melt. And you forget what you were going to say when his lips curl the slightest.

“I don't want anything happening to you. Ever.” He takes you in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing he ever held. “I didn't mean to pressure you like that. I'd hate it if you were in the position of those injured people.”

You pat his back to reassure him that hopefully nothing like that will happen. “And, if, hypothetically, something like that happened; What would y—”

“I'll kill everyone.” he doesn't even let you continue before he answers, though the chuckle against your hair followed after makes your tense shoulders relax.

“maybe not to that extent,” he lifts your head up to lean in and press a tender kiss on your forehead.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“what is it?”

“… something or someone.”

Your boss gives you a nonchalant sharp look when you eagerly showed him the bits you managed to capture last night before you were interrupted by your great boyfriend.

His eyes squints at the more of a blurred photo that sits on the display of your camera, taking the glasses that hanged from his collar.

The sigh afterwards makes you feel discouraged when he hands you back your camera.

“i see it.” He starts and you perk up immediately.

“it looks like a blurred image of a fucking bird taking a shit on the electrical cords.” You press your lips into a thin line at his description. Too detailed of a description,

what a bastard.

It.. certainly didn't look like that.

You clear your throat, pinching the bridge of your nose to compose yourself.

“You're lucky i like your determination or you would've been fired,” he utters out in a lax tone, resting his glasses on his big bald head that you want to spill with ketchup.

“Keep looking, i need the hero's face, details, anything. Just think of the money you and i could both earn.” He seems too enthusiastic about it, showing you determination with his fists pressing together and his wide ear to ear smile.

You leave work early that day, starting your daily walk of looking around for at least two hours or—one hour?

No, Wriothesley would be too worried if you came back after… nine. Your words not his.

You need to rearrange a schedule in your head.

Step one: somehow convince your boss that you need to leave early everyday.

Step two: search every nook and cranny of the city, ask every shady person if they get to talk to the hero in person or got a glimpse of his name.

Step three: go to the dark web— is that car flying infront of you right now?!

Shit. Just why does everything have to go down wherever path you go?

The people around you panics, and you equally panic with them because you're no fucking hero to tell them to get away from that flying car.

You take your camera out hurriedly from its case that slung around your shoulder, pressing record while frantically looking around. The ground shakes, it shakes so much that it feels like an earthquake almost.

“it's him! The villian!” Someone shouts from the distance, and just like that the screams that follows are in sync.

You know why the ground shook, the street has become a battlefield for the hero and villain fighting together with all their strengths, the air is filled with tension as they both clash in an epic confrontation. The ground trembles beneath your feet again as they traded blows, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The once tranquil street has now been transformed into a chaotic arena of power and destruction. As the battle rages on. The hero and villain continue their fight, each strike more powerful than the last, their movements a blur of speed and precision.

You try capturing anything with your camera, but your hand shakes that it was impossible. When the villian lands a powerful punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back, it makes you think it's time to leave.

You run with the rest without stubbornness this time. You should've listened to Wriothesley, why did you always have to be so curious about everything?

This curiousity will kill you next after the cat.

“Taxi!” You shout, waving your hand at the yellow vehicle, but every taxi seems to ignore the people's pleas, determined to save themselves instead.

Guess it's time to burn calories and run back home.

You were a panting mess once you reached back to your comfort space, eyes zeroing at the running television in the living room. Watching the newscaster talk about today's battle and how it affected the shops and buildings.

It seems like the battle lasted twenty minutes before the villian gave up and fled away.

Your head snaps to the bathroom once you hear the sink water drip, you didn't even think if he would be here this early.

“Wriothesley,” you say breathlessly when you swing the door open, arms squeezing his side as you take a deep breath in.

“woah, easy there. What happened?” He takes you in, hand rubbing at your arm.

“i was…” nevermind. Maybe you shouldn't tell him what you have witnessed, he'll know once he checks the news.

You only realise that he was chest bared at the moment, and you furrow your eyebrows once you see a bruise on his shoulder.

“What happened?” It was your turn to ask, talking a gentle finger and running it over the bruise, earning a hiss from him.

“was changing the car oil at the repair shop.” He mumbles, gaze turning to the mirror, “then accidentally hit my shoulder once i got up.” he turns his arm, swinging it slowly.

“but you don't work at a car repair shop?”

“it's a side hustle, sunshine.”

“why didn't you tell me?” You press on, and he hangs his head low, both of his hands gripping the sink bowl.

Okay, maybe you have annoyed him a little too much now. Upon sensing your incoming apology, Wriothesley smiles at you.

“don't worry your pretty little head too much. The bruise will fade.”

“i can massage you later?” You offer, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “You're the best.” He gives you a chaste kiss on your lips on his way out, which makes you feel a little fuzzy.

The evening gave way to the night sky, and you found yourself lying on the bed, replaying the video captured on your camera. The footage was far from perfect, shaky and lacking in clarity, but it still managed to capture fragments of the intense confrontation between the hero and the villain. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as you watched the brief glimpses of the clash that had taken place earlier.

How the villian managed to blow a punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back. Must've hurted.

It's almost like the same spot Wriothesley got his bruise on.

…

Wait, the same spot?  You sit up on the mattress, replaying the video on repeat of their fight.

The hero was about the same height as him, the same physique, same cake—

You shake your head, focus. Wriothesley can't be the hero, no that's impossible. He was a busy man, doing… side jobs and whatnot.

Sure he was kind, always helping everyone, even walking the neighbors dog because they got sick one day.

But then again… you never saw Wriothesley and the hero at the same time,

Or was it merely a coincidence, a random alignment of physical features?

“Sunshine?” You gasp when you snap your head up to find Wriothesley leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“y-yes?” You set the camera aside on top of the drawer. He moves closer, seating himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you then glancing at he camera.

“dinner's ready.”

You nod, silence fills the room after. You know he's waiting for you tell him more, on why you were so shocked.

“was looking at the hero's pictures.”

“not mine? I'm wounded.”

You roll your eyes, a slow smile creeping up your face, and he loves it. He takes it as an invitation to lean closer, suddenly pinning you down on the bed to capture your lips with his.

It's slow, and gentle. It makes you hum softly, taking his face in your hands to kiss him back, moving your lips together until you were gasping for air.

You forget you were even suspicious of him a second ago.

Your fingers lightly trace his jawline and you feel the pricks of his growing facial hair. A small smile plays on your lips as you inform him in a soft tone, "You need to shave." Wriothesley chuckles softly, the sound warm and low. He reaches up to your hand, gently taking hold of it and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your palm. "Is that why you stopped kissing me?" He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "No! I find you more.. attractive. Plus it.. yeah, it feels like little needles on my face.” you admit quietly.

Wriothesley presses his face into your neck, his lips tracing soft kisses along your skin. His hands begin roving your body, each touch sending a gentle shiver across your flesh. He whispers quietly next to your ear, his voice low and smooth as he responds, "I'll shave after dinner." The sensations of his lips against your neck and his hands exploring your body mix together, creating a heady combination that heightens your senses and ignites a slow fire within you.

“I'll.. help.” You whisper, bringing both of your arms to wrap them around his back. “What a sweetheart.” he uttered out, voice muffled from trying to mold into your skin.

Your mind stops working for a second when he presses his knee gently between your legs to pull them apart, “Wriothesley, what about dinner?” You frantically ask him, tugging his hair up so both of your gazes could meet. And the almost drunken expression he has on makes you let out a shaky breath.

“later,” he drawls, his fingers tracing lazily along your sides.

Hero? Pftt, what hero? This is just your wriothesley, it's quite impossible for him to be the hero.

You snap out of your daydream when your colleague hands you a cup of coffee, he raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back awkwardly.

A sip of the coffee to get a bit of energy, but only just a bit, since too much caffeine makes you nervous.

“You filmed the crazy battle yesterday?” Your colleague sneaks from behind you, watching the video replay again on your camera.

“they do movies about them now, insane huh?”

“well atleast the hero knows he's popular.” You reply bluntly, taking anothsr sip from your hot beverage.

“flash news, someone heard that his name starts with the letter ‘W’ or som—”

You spit out your coffee all over your white attire. You both exchange surprised looks, but you quickly wipe your mouth using the back of your hand.

“where exactly did you hear that?” You get straight to the point, gesturing them to sit next to you.

“from my father's friend’s cousin sister.”

His reply makes your eyes twitch, from who and who?

“Okay…” you whisper, turning around and thinking of the utter nonsense they spouted.

“you don't believe me.” he sighed, “I've been telling this to everyone in the building but no one is believing me! Just tryna’ do my job here.”

Let's say maybe you believe him. But the dots are connecting too fast that you want to refuse from believing it.

Was your target closer to you than you had expected?

“I'm clocking out, can you cover for me today?” You inform your colleague, and he crosses his arms while eyeing you up and down.

Your roll your eyes, “I'll be the cameraman for next week. So you could get three days off.” You force a smile and they smile back enthusiastically.

Wriothesley is definitely home. Earlier than the usual time he'd be back.

Oh, he's asleep on the couch. Leaning back tiredly with an almost stern expression on, but his body seems relaxed.

Now is the time to do anything. Investigate? Go through his things without his permission? That sounded all awful… surely he's not hiding any—

“go search his things.” You furrow your eyebrows when the devil on your left shoulder speaks, it makes you rub your face in annoyance.

Then a sudden white little angel poofs on your right shoulder with a disappointed face, “no, don't do it. He's a little scary when he gets mad. But he'd never betray you!” you feel reassured at it's words and you nod in agreement.

“don't listen to it. He could hurt you if you keep it a secret.” The red devil whispers again and it makes you shiver a bit.

“he would never hurt you.” The angel frowns.

“yes he would, he's a man.”

“a good man.”

“yeah? You're no better than me, you just want that—”

“okay shut up both of you. Shoo.” You brush both of your shoulders off before taking a deep breath to brace yourself.

You'll just search his.. clothes.

You feel guilty once you pocket his jackets and pants in his side of the wardrobe, checking every hidden pocket thoroughly while glancing at the door once in a while to make sure he doesn't wake up.

As your fingers brush against his jacket, you notice an unusual sensation – a cool, metal feeling hidden underneath the fabric. Your eyes widen in surprise as you recognize it to be the form of a gun's handle. A mixture of curiosity and concern floods through you, freezing you in place.

It really is a gun. You study it carefully, turning it around and feeling it's heaviness in your palm.

But you feel your heart run out of your ribcage when two pairs of arms wrap tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Shit.

“hi,” he whispers next to your ear, but you're too nervous to even look back at him.

“nice thing you got there.” He muses, and you feel like you're losing oxygen once he tightens his grip around you even more.

“… i just found it.” You mutter, mostly to yourself. Your head hanging too low to avoid his eyes.

“Could've just asked me, no?” He clicks his tongue, almost in disappointment.

“i have it on me because—”

“because you use it for the good, right? Because you're the hero?” Your voice is shaky when you ask, the gun in your hand shaking with you, and you're afraid to drop it.

“hero?” Wriothesley repeats, shaking you gently awake and you gasp harshly, taking in big breaths, your boyfriend immediately trying to soothe you.

it was a dream.

“you were mumbling something about a hero in your sleep. Are you okay?” He asks in concern, brushing a strand off your face. You were sweating too much for your liking.

“when did i get here?” You look around, taking your palms to rub the sleepiness off. “Right when you got off work. You slept on the bed without changing your clothes.”

Oh… so you never checked his clothes. Deciding to just sleep instead.

Your head turns back to the wardrobe, staring at it intently. Could the jacket be in the same arrangement as you found it in your dream? Or will the gun also be there?

“you're going to poke a hole through it if you keep staring.” He stifles a laugh, and you couldn't help but try to smile as well. “Drink up. Slow sips.” He offers you a glass of water, and you hold the glass firmly in your hand.

“so… what was your dream about? Even this hero appears in your dreams? Can't say I'm not jealous.”

“You'll have grey hairs too early from overthinking.” You tease, sitting upright in bed, “oh no, you already do, old man.” you frown, tracing the grey strands along with his black hair. He watches in amusement.

Wriothesley lets out a deep sigh, “give your old man a break. They're a badge of wisdom and experience,” he rests his head on your lap, nuzzling close as you massage his scalp.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Breaking news: the ‘’lola” flower shop sets on fire just three hours ago. Our dear hero saves the day yet again, protecting the old lady just in time before her shop explodes. The cause of the fire is still unknown…”

Destruction out of nowhere again. Accidents out of nowhere again.

The voice of the newscaster on the television fades away in this little diner you're in. You drive your attention away from it, instead focusing now on the Polaroid pictures laid out infront of you.

The hero always wore a mask to cover his identity, obviously. But even after watching the countless of interviews he had, the deep tone slightly matches Wriothesley’s voice, or maybe he's changing his tone on purpose. You can see it by zooming in on the video, how he's catching his breath everytime he speaks when he's just sitting down.

Asthma? Nah.

You tap your fingers impatiently on the table, this is not helping at all, and the slightest itch in your brain worsens as the time goes by.

You think about giving up on this, but the possibility of finding the answer on how or why did all of this happen is probably closer to you than you think.

“Bad guys never end with their schemes. Bunch of attention seekers.” The hero speaks on the television, and you hum curiously as the hero salutes the camera playfully before disappearing from the crowd.

Is it possible that there are multiple heros? Working all together in some basement and taking turns to go out and do a better job than the police?

Possibly, and you write down your new theories down on your little notepad.

You check your phone next, Wriothesley still hasn't answered you back from your most recent text to him.

It's nothing to worry about, but the thought that he's busy saving the city is gnawing at you.

Batman?

You shake your head again, gathering your things to stand up from your seat. You should be blunt asking him about it tonight.

It's cold. Colder than usual. Was the air conditioning on? No. But the windows are sure wide open. You look around the living room before closing the windows and curtains from the outside world, as you draw the curtains, the outside world becomes obscured, leaving the room in a soft semi-darkness.

“Wriothesley, honey?” You call out softly, peeking through the bathroom, not there. The bedroom? Nope.

That leaves the kitchen, you slowly peek your head in he kitchen, and sure enough, he was there.

Wriothesley was rubbing his face in exhaustion while mumbling words under his breath that you can't quite hear. Having one singular glass of some drink in his hand.

“hero this.. hero that..” you finally listen to his mumbles, which makes you furrow your eyebrows together.

"Wrio...?" You call out softly, flipping the switch to turn on the light. His sharp eyes immediately dart up to look at you, and you can't help but shiver under his intense stare. You let out a small gasp of surprise as he suddenly stands up, the glass in his hand slipping from his grip and shattering on the ground along with its contents.

Taken aback by his sudden movement, you instinctively take a step back as he approaches you. But before you can even register what's happening, he crashes his lips against yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. Caught off guard, you cling tightly to him, desperately seeking support to prevent yourself from toppling over.

“You love me,” Wriothesley's voice breaks through the heated kiss, his words coming out in a low, guttural groan. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist. “right?” His voice holds a hint of vulnerability and desperation, as if seeking reassurance and affirmation of your feelings for him.

And when you don't answer him right away, he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently, ���answer me.” He almost growls.

“love, what are you taking about? Are you drunk?” You ask breathlessly in concern, your lips feeling swollen.

His jaw clenches, “Why can't you say it?” he inhales your perfume, your scent filling him that it makes him groan, his mouth lavishing your neck and collarbone, leaving kisses and littering marks then soothing the area with his tongue that it makes your pant softly, pressing your face into his hair while your fingers weaving through his black-greyish strands.

“i love you,” you utter quietly, and it suddenly makes him start grinding his hardened length against you. “I'm sorry in advance, sweetheart.”

One minute you're confused about his words, and then the next he's pounding so hard into you like there was no tomorrow.

Strings of “don't leave me,” and “i love you’s,” are echoed in the air. Wriothesley's mouth moves against yours with a sense of urgency and haste, his tongue gliding and tangling with yours in a fervent dance. The bed creaks so loud underneath you that you think it might break anytime, the embarrassment of the headboard banging against the wall immediately gone once he hits your sweet spot rapidly.

Poor neighbors

"Wrio... Wriothesley?” you slowly flutter your eyes open, still in the hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness. The sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, and you blink a few times as you take in your surroundings. A quiet sense of contentment washes over you as you remember the events of the night before, the memories of Wriothesley's body against yours and his lips on yours still fresh in your mind.

You prop yourself up using your elbows, only to look down at the sight of your sleeping lover with his head pressed up on your chest. You collapse back on the bed with a tired sigh.

You still couldn't understand the reasoning behind his.. desperate actions last night. He seemed so pent up and stressed, you'll forgive him this time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It's the day where you're covering for your colleague, being the cameraman for tonight's news. Yes, tonight.

Wriothesley would kill you if he knew you were working so late at night, but only because he cares about your safety. Good thing he's out of the city for a day.

Or he claims to be out of the city for some important work.

You press the button on your video camera, adjusting the lens to focus on the newscaster standing in front of the camera, holding the microphone with a serious expression. The news van is parked in front of a desolate, run-down neighborhood known for its high crime rate and dangerous reputation. The newscaster speaks into the camera, her eyes boring into the lens as she reports on the neighborhood.

“We are now standing in the heart of one of the most dangerous areas in the city. This neighborhood is notorious for its high crime rate and volatile atmosphere.”

Your senses are heightened at this rate and you really try to focus but the moment you hear the faint crunch of leaves, you lose composure just a bit.

Okay you're a bit scared, but as long as your workmates are he—

a group of armed gang members suddenly appear from the alleyways between the buildings, surrounding the news van and the camera crew. The newscaster, taken off guard, gasps and steps back.

The gang members brandish their weapons, circling the news crew menacingly. One of them shouts at the newscaster, waving his gun in the air. “Hold it right there, pretty lady. This is our turf! You ain’t gonna be broadcasting nothing about us!”

You're about to shit your pants for real this time.

“Drop your cameras and get outta here, or things are gonna get real ugly real fast,” he growls, and one of them points the gun right on your camera.

“I'm talkin’ to you too.”

Yeah, you're not going to fight anyone and act all big. You simply drop the camera on the ground to raise your hands in the air.

As the gang members close in on the news crew, the atmosphere is suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps pounding against the pavement. Everyone turns to see a tall, muscular figure approaching from the distance.

It's the hero.

You watch in awe as the hero strides towards the group of armed gang members, his movements fluid and precise. With a swift swing of his fist, he lands a powerful punch on the leader's face, sending him stumbling backwards. The other gang members are taken aback by his sudden appearance and the display of force, their eyes widening in surprise and fear. They exchange nervous looks, realizing they're facing a much stronger opponent than they anticipated.

“Hey, let's go!” Your workmate calls for your name. Her hand waving at you so you could all retreat back to the van.

And before you could follow, the van explodes.

The sudden explosion catches you off guard, jolting you out of your stupor. Shouting in surprise, you recoil from the loud blast, ducking instinctively as debris and fragments fly through the air. Your colleague, sitting next to you in the van, lets out a terrified yell as the force of the explosion propels the driver backward. The van shudders and lurches from the impact, the windows shattering and various objects sent flying.

“in the building! Let's go!” All three of you dash to protect yourselves inside this tall company building.

“I will call the police,”

“but the hero is here!” the driver of the van speaks, almost yelling in frustration.

“the hero is also a human. Just a strong one. We can't rely on him—” but before you could continue, you all cover your ears once you hear gunshots come from outside.

Ohmygosh. It’s—it could possibly be Wriothesley who's getting hurt right now. What are even the chances?!

“Fine! Just call the fucking police!” The driver gives up, leaning back against the wall while breathing heavily.

You want to go out there. You want to see. It's your chance to see who the hero is if he got hurt. Just to get the crumbs of news in exchange for your life apparently.

When it grows quiet, you peek outside, “it's clear, I'll take a look—”

“No, you're not.” her hand is firm as she grips your wrist, “just let them go.” He, on the other hand, scowls.

“Be safe!” She shouts at you as you make a run for it, running down the alleyway while looking left and right.

Someone's in the area.

You dart behind the nearby dumpster, heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. Hiding as best you can, you press yourself against the rough metal, trying to keep your breathing steady and quiet. Peeking out from behind the dumpster, you cautiously scan the surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of someone nearby. For now, the area seems to be clear, but you can't shake the feeling that someone is in the vicinity, lurking in the shadows.

“Where ya at, lil’ birdie?” You cover your mouth when you hear someone speak, it sends a chill down your spine and you can feel your heart drumming in your ears.

Your sharp eyes turn to your side to find a metal rod, you don't hesitate to grab it before smacking the shit out of the guy.

No that did not happen, but you wish it did.

Instead, the minute you see his feet pass the dumpster, with a swift movement, you grab hold of both of his ankles, using your weight and leverage to pull them out from under him. He lets out a pained shriek as he suddenly loses his balance and topples to the ground, his body hitting the pavement with a thud.

Alright, you can be cool sometimes.

Stepping at his hands to hear him cry again, you run put of the place, making turns and finally spotting the hero sitting down against the building wall while panting, seemingly exhausted.

“…” you take slow steps once you approach him, looking down at him with your eyes already glistening.

This is it, you just have to confirm it.

Your hand pulls at his mask, “Wrio—”

Huh?

This…

Is not

Wriothesley.

“Ah, what the fuck?” He grunts, the blonde grabbing the mask from your hands and you take a step back.

“Elias?!” You yell out in confusion, it's your colleague that you're covering for supposedly today's shoot.

“You're the hero??”

“not a word. Scram, you freak.” he mutters, eyes diverting away from you and staring up at the roof. “The roof,” he whispers to himself, making the effort to stand back at his knees.

Is this bitch serious? He's the last person you expected to be the hero. With his stupidly arrogant and lax attitude.

You give him an almost death stare, studying his features again before making your way out.

You need to check the other people that were with you.

But when you arrive back at the building, they were gone.

Did the police arrive? You don't hear any sirens. Could they have possibly went up on one of the floors to hide?

You find yourself in the elevator next, watching as the doors close with your hands clasped infront of you nervously.

You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and steady your nerves. Hey, at least there's nice elevator music.

As the elevator comes to a halt, the doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the rooftop and the figure standing in the open space.

There's a figure standing at the edge of the building, you can see the person's silhouette clearly now, but you can't make out their features just yet.

Your steps are hesitant as you slowly approach the figure, the wind gently billowing around you. The city lights twinkle below, but your attention is entirely focused on the person standing at the edge of the roof. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever may come, and call out tentatively, "Hello?”

Your voice rings in the air, that the person's shoulders tense.

When they look around, you're met by the same blue eyes you've known for three years now.

“Wriothesley.” You whisper, in shock, breathlessly under your breath.

He's holding.. a gun? The same gun you remember seeing in your dream.

Something in his mind snaps when you turn around, in fear. Like it was a mistake to ever see him in the first place.

Wriothesley doesn’t even give himself time to think before his body suddenly reacts, suddenly reaching out and circling his hand around your wrist to forcibly tug you back.

He yanks hard enough that you lose your balance and fall against him, his other arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders, preventing you from going anywhere.

“W-wrio—”

“think it's time we talk, sunshine.” He speak into your ear.

When you try to move the slightest from his hold, he grips you around him tighter. You figure it's best to stay still for now.

“what? Are you going to kidnap me now?” You manage to chuckle out, nervously though, your voice coming out more shaky than you intended to.

“Is that going to satisfy your little fantasy? What, I should play into it and shove you into a corner, keep you under my thumb until you’re begging me to set you free? Or no… you want to be saved by the hero.”

"You know you're not helping with your case, right? You really sound like the bad guy now.”

You’ve definitely found his breaking point because that comment makes him snap.

Wriothesley suddenly whirls you around so you’re facing him before he’s pinning you against the nearest wall, his body practically covering your own.

“Well…” He whisper, raising an eyebrow calmly in the way you look being at his mercy. “Aren’t I?”

Your jaw practically hangs at his words. Is he... Playing the bad guy now?

Or was he really… not the opposite of the hero?

He sees the shiver you try so hard to suppress and smirks at that, clearly satisfied with your reaction, “What’s wrong, sunshine? Finally realize that the man you’ve been dating isn’t the hero you've obsessing over?” He chuckles.

“i… i knew it—”

“You didn’t,” he says, his tone suddenly becoming cool and firm.

Wriothesley leans forward, pressing into you so that you’re smashed between him and the wall. His hand suddenly comes up, cupping your jaw so that he tilts your chin up to look directly into his eyes.

“If you’d known, you’d never have come within twenty feet of me. You’d never have been alone with me or spent a single night in our bed.”

He's right. And you hate it. You feel betrayed, lied to, even.

It makes you rethink your life choices.

You've gotten too comfortable with him that you didn't even think about him being the villian. You've gotten too close while you were being a complete idiot.

“you hid it.”

Wriothesley laughs, the sound almost sounding cold, “of course I hid it, sunshine. I wasn’t going to just come strutting in wearing a big, red sign saying ‘look at me, I’m a bad guy!’ was I?”

You clench your fists together, “you tricked me.”

“Tricked? No.” He shakes his head slightly. “I simply… left out key details.”

“Why?”

“ah, there it is.” He steps back, giving you space to breath, to recollect your thoughts.

“why? Because the hero isn't a hero. He started all of this destruction. Why? To get fame, recognition, power, and to be seen, to look like he's doing something when he's not.” He lets out all in one breath, and you lips part again.

“four years ago when the building almost fell on you? He did that, on purpose. then saved you to make it look like he's the one that everyone needs.”

What the hell?

“Wriothesley, we were strangers to each other four years ago. How did you know?” You don't hesitate to step closer to get more answers out of him, but he only stares at you.

You swallow thickly when he draws infront of you once again, “i did this all for you, love. I-i will do everything in my power to stop him, i will kill him so you wouldn't get hurt—”

“Okay, fucker. Out of my way,” Elias, the ’hero’, suddenly barks, and without warning, a gunshot rings out. The bullet pierces through Wriothesley's shoulder, causing him to flinch and stagger backwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as you watch the scene unfold. "Wriothesley!" you cry out, watching as he turns around despite the injury and charges towards Elias.

Despite the pain he must be in, Wriothesley doesn't relent. Ignoring the gunshot wound, he barrels towards Elias with unmatched determination, closing the distance between them.

"Bastard," Wriothesley manages to grit out as he collides with Elias, knocking him off his feet and sending them both crashing to the ground.

You don't hesitate to rush forward, with adrenaline fueling your actions, you move quickly towards them as they roll dangerously close to the edge of the roof.

"Stop!" you shout, your voice filled with desperation. "You'll fall!”

And surely enough, Your two hand clamps down on Wriothesley's, desperately grasping onto anything you can to prevent him from plunging off the edge.

Meanwhile, Elias grips Wriothesley's leg, using his strength to anchor him in place. The three of you hang there, suspended over the city, Wriothesley's body along with Elias’s dangling in the air.

“Sweetheart—”

“shut the fuck up I'm not letting go.” They're both too heavy, the feel of his fingers slipping away from yours increases everytime you try to pull them up.

Elias is purposely pulling Wriothesley's leg down to drop them both, your lips quiver, crying when two of his fingers slip now.

“hey,” his voice is soothing when he calls for you.

“at least… i protected you till the very end, right?” He tries smiling but it only makes the lump in your throat grow.

“i love you.”

“Wriothesley!”

…

“Wriothesley—!” You gasp harshly when you open your eyes so wide, finding that your hand was already reaching out for nothing.

You rest your hand on your chest before leaning back on your seat.

“are you okay?” The newscaster, the friend you made, offers you her handkerchief so you could swipe the sweat off your face.

“i think… continuesly searching about this, is making you stressed.” She points out, looking at the papers and drawings splayed out on your desk.

More theories of the disappearances of the hero and villian. Not their death. Their bodies were never found.

“it's been a year.”

The realization is like a punch to the gut as you bring a sweaty palm to rub at your temples.

“This is not over.” You whisper, more to yourself than to her. “We got no more trouble. No more heroic or bad guy news. The world is back to normal, almost like they never existed huh?”

Never existed.

She then suddenly gasps, which catches you off gaurd, “are engaged??” She eyes at the gem resting on your left ring finger.

The ring you found in one of his jacket pockets when you sorted his things out.

“yeah…” you decide to drawl out before sitting upright on your seat.

“now, if you'll excuse me, i got work to do.”

You're never going to stop searching, to find another answer of the question; 'why?'

Even if it will mean risking your life this time.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

I didn’t want to write this out this early because I’m sure there are even more to discover, but people are already reblogging my previous art of Marika and Messmer & saying Marika doesn’t love him, so I write this out as a guideline that all my art is drawn with this theory in mind.

(While the DLC has changed the way I feel about certain events and characters, my view on Messmer and Marika remain unchanged. In fact, I think Marika skyrockets into my most fav in the game now. lol.)

* Beware of endgame spoiler under the cut

Please note that I wrote this without providing the item descriptions I use to develop this theory, because I want to make a proper post later with all evidence after I’ve played through all of the DLC. But those items exist and could be found in game.

Here is how I view Messmer and Marika’s relationship (he is her most beloved child):

For starter:

*the winged serpent - Messmer’s symbol, is considered a wise creature and is his friend. It is NOT the snakes that are viewed as traitors to the Erdtree, since the Serpent Crest shield was even made to commemorate his crusade. It’s also DIFFERENT from the evil snake he was born with.

*this is not to defend their actions, they are still horrible people, but I want to show that they have depths and are well-written characters with stories and emotions. My unhinged mother and son duo 😔✊

—-

I like the poetry in Marika starting the war against the Fire Giants in part as revenge for Messmer (it’s implied the Fell God is the Outer God that cursed him / it’s outright stated that he hated his fire), & now Messmer leading the purge against the Hornsent as revenge for Marika and her people (it’s implied the disappearance of her village has sth to do with the spirit calling rite the people at the Tower were doing).

I actually think Marika raised Messmer in her home village for a while too. She didn’t throw him to LoS alone, she was raising him in secret in her home, fearing people will judge him for carrying a malevolent snake. The two Tree Sentinels before the village dropped Marika’s Blessing. Yes. the Blessing she made specifically for him.

When you zoom in the Marika statue in his boss room, she was smiling when hugging him. I think ppl tend to forget that Marika, like Malenia and Miquella, carries tree/ foliage motif. RADAGON IS WEAK TO FIRE. If Messmer was cursed with fire and it started to manifest around him … of course she couldn’t embrace him anymore. It was physically hurting her, and Messmer wouldn’t have wanted to cause her pain as well. The soldier ghost at Ensis castle was begging Marika to embrace her child again, implying it’s sth that he yearns for. But couldn’t have now. Because of his damned curse.

If you look at the story that way, Messmer’s death dialogue makes perfect sense. It’s his lament that he’s gone from Marika’s precious (presumably firstborn) child, a source of her happiness, to a curse against her (*point to Radagon’s hair as another connection to Fire Giants and their curse). Robbing her (and himself) of the close bond they used to share.

It’s why Messmer alone has more blessings *directly* from Marika than any other Demigods. His army also receives more blessings than any other faction on the Lands Between, and they all refer to Marika as dearest Mother and Fair Mother.

Hell, after Messmer, Marika couldn’t connect to any of her other children again. This is like the ultimate doomed mother and son. Whatever I expected from them from the beginning, Fromsoft cranked it to eleven. Jfc.

[sweet-honey-tears]

Just Turn it Down

dad!Aizawa x biological!GN!Reader FAMILY FLUFF!!!!!

…. I’m so sorry for how long this took… I hope you like it🖤🤍🥺 and thank you for your amazing request!!! -🍯

WARNING: None, cute stuff. Possible gender mix ups, when I write a draft, I write in fem tense (she,her,ect) and then go back and fix it after- but I’m sick so may have missed a few. I’m incredibly sorry.

To say it was a surprise to the world would be an understatement. The scary, hard-headed, slouched teacher of AU had a kid—an actual, biological child. It was no surprise that Aizawa would keep it under wraps. Your safety and his patience could easily be strained.

“Who is the mother?”

“Was it a Fling?”

“Did the Pro-Hero Eraser Head hook up with…”

The world got its answers; with it, you got your silence. “My mother is dead. Died in childbirth, I’d like to be left alone now.” It was a blatant lie, and when Hizashi asked you why, trying his best to understand, his tall frame slumped slightly as he rubbed the back of his head, you answered, “Because she is.” The subject was never brought up again.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

While not your biological siblings, Eri and Shinso have been part of your family since they stepped through the door. Shinso, who was older than you, had offered advice more than once on subjects such as schools, relationships, and your future career. The world is aware of your future decisions, another blunt shut-down.

“Do you wanna be just like your father? A hero”

You glanced at your dad off to the side, his arms crossed yet still tense. Ready to pull you back the minute they ask a question that crosses the line. Aizawa smiled slightly, ever so suddenly that only you caught it. Then, there was an ever so slight nod.

“No.”

Shinso supports you fully; he always feels the public backlash of his decisions due to his quirks. Villain, villain, villain. He’d prove them wrong. But that didn't stop his anger when his mind bounced to the idea of you being put through assaults. You can manipulate living organisms. Specifically, increasing the size of plants and controlling movement. As always, with their lack of space, the press managed to grab photos of you using the quirk. Your sweet smile as you lean over some old lady's rose bush, the spiked vines climbing up to reach your fingers as soft pink flowers open. According to you, it had been stepped on and crushed under some careless foot, and you just wanted to fix it. Yet that story would be too sweet. The public zoomed in on the aspect that you could grow thorns! What if you decided to covered the town in poison ivy?! You huffed at the so called fears written in the paper.

“I wouldn't play their game, so now I need to be their villain.”

Your quirk explicitly comes from your mother's side to your disgust. Thou Aizawa couldn't care less about the quirk; he wouldn't care if you were quirkless, something he’s said more than once. However, he felt the slightest bit of glee as he watched you quiet the loud blonde in his class. It wasn’t your fault; he wanted to spar, and you did. Thou, you slightly regretted your decision as you watched the problem child, as your dad called him, scribble furiously down his journal.

You don't go to UA, a choice that sometimes stresses Aizawa. Yet, considering the recent events with this group of students, it now seemed like a safer choice, ironically. But when you do go to UA, for whatever reason, it feels like another home. Surrounded by the many staff and heroes that raised you, taking you on days, Aizawa had patrol. AllMight, in his uncle-like glory, yelled:

“Ah Young Y/n, how tall you’ve grown!”

This caused all students to stop and look at the one kid who was not in uniform. You’re as much their daughter as you are, Aizawa. Your hair getting ruffled, cheeks pinched, comments how beautiful you’ve become. Midnight, despite what the media says, and Rumi

have been wonderful mother figures throughout your life. Aizawa, as great a father as he is, knows when to throw his hands up for your comfort and sometimes his. You tell the two women secrets, crushes, and heartbreakers, and they keep it locked up, never spilling the information on even Aizawa.

Your little sister, Eri, clings to you like a koala and you her, pulling you to a point where your spine is more of a bridge than a body part, just so she can whisper you a secret or happily show you the family photo she drew in class, with you, Shinso, and Aizawa all drawn with wide smiles, stick hands holding stick hands.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You blame Shinso for your music taste because if you admitted that Bakugou was the one to introduce, you think your father would get his motto tattooed onto you. “Stay away from loud blondes.” But you couldn't help it. Scene Queen seemed to attach to every cell of your body. The loud, angry music about worth and the media seeing comforting as you watched the world around you. There is so much pain, so many big problems, and yet some so small and meaningless, silly almost. These are easy ones to fix if people just agree. Maybe the same could be said for the argument of where Villains came from; the same ones you watch hurt your family, but the thought feels so sickening. So switch to another artist, the screaming, feeding, and subduing the boiling anger that lingers in your chest due to the media. You were getting ripped apart by the bloodhounds for not giving them the bloody steak they required, so instead, they chose you. You're a small, converted life forced to be nailed and screwed since you wouldn’t play their games.

Your finger mindlessly tapped to the next artist, pondering slightly if your hearing will be gone when you reach your 20s due to Metalica. Your fingers lightly drum on the page, your body unconsciously moving to the beat of the song that blasted too loud in your headphones. To be stuck in your own world and notice your dad walking past you, peering over the couch to see what you were doing. Aizawa paused; the screeching music from your headphones sounded all too familiar. With little hesitation, he reached down and grabbed one of the earpieces, listening for the split moment he had before the music paused. It was clear he startled you from the way you jumped and whipped around.

“Dad!”

“(Enter favorite metal band)?”

You paused, searching his face for something you weren't really sure of. ”Uh Yeah… Shinso introduced me to them.”

Aizawa smiled a bit, handing you back the headphones. “The band came out when I was in UQ,” He huffed, watching your surprised face. “Mike was very much into them and even met the band.” He watched the excitement in your face take over. He’d need to call Hizashi and tell him the radio hero would be over the moon. “They’re from (Enter Country), I believe.” He leaned against the couch.

“Yeah they did!” Azawia paused, about to speak again, when his phone rang, the screeching sound leading from the kitchen; it was UA; you both knew it. He sighed, looking back at you, smiling slightly. “Just listen to them at a lower volume.” He ruffled your hair before leaving to get his phone.

He left and was gone the rest of the day, some issue on the campus. Damn problem children. And when you came home from school, he still wasn’t there. But sitting on the kitchen counter,rested a small keychain of the band of the bands logo.

[moosha-mushroom]

Media I imagine different fiction podcasts in instead of the media of being a podcast.

TMA: A selection of volumes, relating to the fears, each with those removable covers. Those covers has a victim or two, and then underneath the cover is a really detailed cover. The paper is decoratively ripped, with a kind of scraggly font, and each has a foreword and ‘author’s note’ from Jonathan Sims.

Malevolent: A really gritty graphic novel with deadly detail in each panel, and very little color. Maybe a trinket on each important character has a color? Like Arthur’s eyes being yellow or Oscar’s collar having a blue sheen to it. The novels are long, dramatic, and intimate in a visceral way.

Welcome to Night Vale: Local 58 bullshit. A broadcast on television with low quality images and audio, tacky music, and a kind of 80’s aesthetic. Each episode the words WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE zoom onto the screen, the purple eye behind them. And each weather segment is an animated short by a different artist.

The Penumbra(Juno Steel): A webcomic. Hours spent scrolling downward a comic that has so much color and GEOMETRIC design. Juno and his curvy jaw, brown pie slice eyes, a cartoonishly high collar for his investigator jacket. Nureyev and his sharp square jaw, shimmering jewelry, and stick legs. Characters sticking out of the panels, fonts changing constantly, a little blue Juno that does his narration and *guitar theme plays* each time he appears.

Wolf 359: A classic comic. Issues month by month. Different special covers of the characters in extra dramatic poses or scenes. Even MORE panel breaking than Juno Steel. So MUCH onomatopoeia, even for small things like the clink of a panel or the disapproving hiss of Hilbert in the background. Geometric designs like Juno Steel, but less colorful. Like the superhero art style mixed with a more stylized look.

Midnight Burger: You pull up the Midnight Burger website. They have a hidden page that has a sort of script-comic thing going on, where the art is next to the writing. Small coded in notes from Leif sometimes pop up if you hold your arrow over the art. Links are attached to the parts where Effie and Zebulon play music, linking you to the music so you can listen to it while you read.

Desert Skies: An animated show. Indie, something you’d find on YouTube. The animation is bouncy and incorporates 3D animation alongside the 2D. Maybe the Sphere Movers have 3D models and the staff don’t? The credits are short because it was made by one guy. People are complaining about it on Twitter /j. People are making content farms about it. Everyone is pissed at Corson like they’re pissed at Jax.

The Amelia Project: A sort of simulation video game. You play as Arthur. You listen to their stories and draw pieces of the tale to invent their death. Every once in a while the game transitions to a point and click suspense game where you solve puzzles as Cole and Haines. Maybe there should even be an Operation-esque part of it where you work as Kozlowski.

Ghost Wax: A novel with a lot of pictures spliced in it. The stories are all in a single book, though the book is through Luca’s perspective— so he picks up on the ghost’s body language and Voncid’s reactions. The pictures are tarot cards with each victim as a card. Some are repeat cards— Lorem does not have a card at the end of the story. Nor does Our Home or Evening at the Ardent. The pictures are only white with black line art. No color whatsoever.

Kakos Industries: A company newsletter. Not a broadcast. A newspaper that arrives at your door and has big bold letters with the main story and pictures of the events that happen in the story as it goes. And the Sunday Comic page is full of employee shenanigans. Some innocent… some not.

I am losing my mind.

[hopplessilse]

The nanny

Joel miller x f!reader 18+ explicit

Other stories:

Part 2 the nanny

Serie masterlist insta!Joel Dylan's stepfather

Fetish teacher!joel x f!reader

Summary: You've worked for the millers for a while, you love Sarah she's an amazing little girl. Your favorite part of going to his house is being able to see Mr. Miller, and how good he looks in his dress suit.

Warnings: Age gab (in her early 20's, he's middle 40's) pet names, Hard Sex, teabagging, almost got caught, unprotective v in p.

A/N: He has money, he is humble, he has problems with his wife, he loves Sarah and we love him, let him give us good love. if you want a second part let me know sweethearts <3

At the Millers' house, you were drawing with Sarah in the living room, it was afternoon. The Millers almost never asked for your service for many hours, this time it would be all day, until 9 p.m. or until they told you.

Mrs. Miller had an event of her company, which she would attend from 5:30 to 11:00 p.m. On the other side, Mr. Miller worked in the morning but returned home in the afternoon, around 4:00, and would be busy with zoom meetings.So you'd take care of Sarah until he was done.

From the moment you set foot in his house, you found Mr. Miller fascinating. But you were professional and you needed the job, he always treated you well and you were the same, they always asked for your opinion on things, they trusted you in any situation.

He's a good father to Sarah, he's a good husband, despite the constant fights they had lately, he's always respected her, you can see the love he has for her.

Although… You couldn't get it out of your head that day when you were in the pool.

When Mrs. Miller called you to babysit Sarah in the afternoon, you thought you'd be alone, but you'd not. Mr. Miller was working from home. From the pool you could see him through the window that looked out onto his office.

You could see the way he stared at you while he was on the phone, how he looked away from the computer as he typed to check you out. When you took Sarah to bathe and put her on her nap. The way he smiled at you when you went to say goodbye to him, the way he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him to kiss you on the cheek.

Today he would have a morning event at work, something a bit formal. His wife, Mrs. Miller, made him buy a suit. He was a man who liked casual clothes, a pair of jeans, some plaid shirts or simple T-shirts. You were deeply grateful to Mrs. Miller for making him buy that suit, because god—" You never thought he could look better than in his plaid shirts.

He is tall, broad, broad-shouldered, in fact his body is very well proportioned thanks to his work. He is a contractor but before he was dedicated to all the loading and repairing part, now he is more in the area of design and site preparation. although it is still doing repair work. His arms are wide as are his forearms, broad back. You could imagine something else wide.

He had a strong profile, stood out in the most beautiful way, his jaw covered by his dark, grayish beard, and his lips decorated by a mustache that barely touched his upper lip.

And his eyes… Well, his eyes were two big, round dark spheres, which every time they looked at you, made you feel like you were the only person in the room, with that intensity of eye contact that brought you to your knees.

You heard his heavy footsteps down the stairs as he spoke to his wife. You looked up as you felt him enter the living room, right in front of you, wearing dark dress pants, light blue shirt, with the last button open exposing his exquisite tan collar… A dark blue tie hung from his hand.

His hair, fresh out of the shower.

"How do I look like?" he said, adjusting his tie behind his neck

"You look better than in your jeans." His wife got up from the couch to walk over to him and help him tie the knot

He looks good in everything, he looks so good

"And the jacket?" his wife looked him up and down

"I'm not going to wear a jacket," he said, buttoning the last button of his blue shirt

"It's a formal event, you must wear it"

"No, it's too early and hot to wear it" he buttoned the buttons of his sleeves as he walked towards Sarah and you

He sat down in the couch behind Sarah to see what she was doing, while exchanging a few words with her, Mrs. Miller went to get the jacket and threw it to the side of him in the couch, he just looked at her seriously as he leaned on the back of the couch and his legs remained open.

"You take it, and you'll tell me if you don't use it," she told him before going upstairs to her room to get ready

After Mrs. Miller left, the air changed. At least for you it did. You felt Joel's gaze on your neck, a feeling of nerves ran through your entire body, although you decided to ignore the fact that his knee almost touched your shoulder, you decided to give all your concentration to Sarah while she told you about the animals you were painting.

A few hours had passed since Joel had left, Mrs. Miller was about to leave, right at the door saying goodbye to her daughter. She, like Mr. Miller, looked beautiful. She wore a purple dress that highlighted her warm skin.

You had a good time when you were alone with Sarah, one of your favorite activities was playing Taylor Swift music and singing at the top of your lungs. You enjoyed swimming, making brownies, and drawing. She was a quiet, obedient and above all honest girl, she even told you secrets from her school.

She loved being with you. Once on vacation when you weren't working, she asked her parents to talk to you so you could spend the afternoon with her. Despite being 8 years old she was a responsible child with her homework, she always reminded you to do it.

You knew things about her, like she knew things about you. You were best friends.

Hours passed, Joel was already at home, but he was in his office working as he had meetings by call. Normally when one of them arrives you always put Sarah to take a nap and go home, after a long day for everyone it was the best solution to lower her energy.

"I don't want to sleep, I want to get in the pool," Sarah said as she pouted sitting on her bed

"You know the rules, no pool after 6 p.m., and you have to take your nap." You said as you closed the curtains a little and turned on her vanity light

"Can you convince my dad to leave us?" you looked at her and she smiled at you, cocking her small head

"No, I can't," you laughed and saw her eyebrows gather in anger

"He won't say no"

"And why wouldn't he say no" You looked at her with a thoughtful face

"Because he likes you," she smiled at you and her hazel eyes sparkled

You opened your mouth in surprise

"And where do you get that?"

"Because he was telling my mom again that you were one of the best babysitters I've ever had."

"Do you think that?"

"sure" she smiled to you

"Well anyway I can't do it honey, you'll have to take your nap, on the weekend we'll probably be able to swim okay"

She just went to bed with a pout on her face

"Can I at least read the story myself? it's just that I'm not very sleepy."

"Do you want to read it alone?" You took the book off the shelf and gave it to her

She just nodded happily.

"Okay, I'll let you read the book, but you promise you'll fall asleep?" You pointed to it as a warning

"Yes, I promise"

"Little hand" you made your hand a fist, placed your thumb on your lips while extending your pinky finger in her direction, she did the same as you, and they joined their pinky fingers in an embrace.

You walked to her door and waved goodbye, telling her to keep quiet so her dad wouldn't hear her.

You closed her door slowly, then walked down the hall and headed for the stairs. The house was dark, you had left a lamp on the side of the stairs to light them.

Going down the stairs you turned to enter the living room. When you looked up you jumped and put your hand to your chest, Joel was sitting on the couch with only 2 lamps on that reflected a dim light in the room.

He had reports on the coffee table and his laptop was resting on the edge of it. He looked up at you. He was wearing dark square glasses, in his hands he held a notebook and pen and, he was still in his clothes from this morning.

"God!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, leaving his notebook and pen on the side of his laptop along with the rest of the papers.

"Don't worry" You got your posture back by watching it from the entrance "I thought you were in your office"

"I was there, but I needed air, I couldn't last another minute"

You both stared at each other, you trying to control your nervousness as he looked you up and down.

"Sarah's already fallen asleep?"

"Yes, she just fell asleep" You walked over to the couch where he was, your bag resting a few feet away from him. You took it, looked at him and just smiled and walked away

His raspy voice rang in your ears.

"Hey, I wanted to know if you couldn't stay another hour" You looked at him confused "I'll be busy with another meeting"

"Oh okay sure, no problem" He just gave you a smile and started typing on his computer, you just sat next to him on the couch, saying nothing.

Sitting next to him, you couldn't help but look at him and see how sexy he looked in the dim light in the room. What would it be like to be loved by him? How would it feel to be touched by him? What would it feel like to kiss him?

No, you can't think that, it's Mr. Miller we're talking about, that's not healthy or right, he's married and has a daughter, a daughter that you take care of in the trust of their house.

The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up below his elbows. You could see the hair in his arms, and his veins underneath them.

He was so focused on what he was doing.He looked calm, you couldn't think why he and his wife were always fighting, you would be very happy by his side.

You came back to reality when his eyes turned to look at you, and a smile appeared on his face. You just settled back on the couch, a nervous smile on your face. Joel stopped writing and leaned back on the back of the chair, and like this morning, his legs spread, his knee touching yours.

"So… How's college going?" He put his left arm behind the couch, leaving his hand behind your shoulder.

"Mmh I… I don't go to college anymore, I graduated a few months ago."

His brows furrowed, "Mmj, and what was your career?"

"Architecture" you smiled as you nodded and looked away from him

"You haven't looked for a job yet"

"Yes, I have, but… Since I'm still new to the field, they don't accept me in any of them" You played with your fingers as you watched them intertwine.

"If you want, you could be an intern in the construction I work in"

You looked at him and your eyes softened "for real"

"Of course" a soft grimace was on his lips, causing his eyes to become small and the edges of their eyes to appear wrinkled.

You just smiled at him in the same way, and when you lowered your head to your lap, you felt his hand, the same hand behind you, caress your hair. You turned to look at him and his eyes wandered over your breasts that were slightly shown by the collar of the shirt, his eyes ran over it until they reached your face.

"You are so beautiful, did you know that?"

His eyes were even darker with the light, his lips parted. It didn't help you stop your thoughts.

"Yes, I know," you said in a whisper as you saw his lips, his face, his eyes

His hand went from being in your hair to being on your cheek. He stroked you with his knuckles slowly, as he watched the places where he caressed you. You didn't take your eyes off him. He came closer to you being inches from your face, while his hands rested on your jaw, following the shape of it to your chin and resting his thumb on your lips.

"You have beautiful lips" His thumb caressed your upper lip to your lower lip slowly.

You didn't know what to do or how to react, you never expected this from him. Why was him this way just now?

He came up to you and left a kiss on your cheek, close to your lips. You could feel his breath brushing your lips. Until you just decided to put your lips together with his.

You closed your eyes to the contact. Your lips moved in time, slowly as he held your face with his left hand.

The kiss only intensified when you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, sliding your hands down his chest. You parted for lack of air, but your foreheads stayed together.

"Is it okay for us to do this?" you asked him, begging him to say yes, that he wanted to kiss you, to feel you… But a little part of you told you it was wrong

"I want it, I've wanted it for a while" He caressed your face and brushed his nose with yours "Do you want it to happen?" He looked straight into your eyes

"Yes.." you swallowed seeing it "But… your wife."

"Don't worry about her, she won't know this happened"

You stared at him gasping for breath, thinking of a million things that could happen. If she found out you would lose your job, you would be embarrassed if your parents knew the reason why they fired you, it would be a torment in your head if they separated because of you. You didn't want to be the other woman, but if it happened one time, you put the feelings aside, you could enjoy it.

You could have this experience and not be left wanting.

You joined your lips with his, making your teeth collide, the kiss was intense, your tongues caressed each other, asking for more. You couldn't help but slide your hand from his chest to his crotch, you felt a bulge through his dark pants. You massaged him up and down, feeling his harder length.

You heard him growl with pleasure from your hand, your movements so soft, your hands on him and your panties getting wetter and wetter.

Your hands went to his belt, undoing it with a speed that showed how impatient you were.

"shh calm down, I know you want this cock inside you honey"

"I want it in my mouth too" you looked at him with puppy eyes as you got off the couch and knelt in front of him, you positioned yourself between his legs and guided your hands to unbutton his pants and unzip him.

"oh baby, you will be the death of me"

He settled better on the couch, he helped you lower his pants, staying in boxers, he placed his right hand on your head, caressing it.

You guided your head and your hand close to his member that was still covered by his boxers. You could perfectly see the shape of its length, the thickness of it. You placed your mouth on it, leaving a trail of kisses along its length on the fabric. A growl left his lips, prompting you to pull the hem of his boxers down a little, making his head peek out.

You turned to look at him, he smiled at you and nodded for you to continue. You licked your lips and placed a kiss on the tip, this made his hips rise a little, he was asking for more, but you wanted to play with him a little before putting him in your mouth.

You stuck out your tongue and ran it along his length as you landed your lips and gently sucked on the sides of his member. Your hands wandered over him, you touched the tip of his head with your right hand and felt how he moved due to the cold contact of your hand on his very warm length.

"Come on baby, show me what that little mouth can do." He told you in a low tone and with his raspy voice.

You pulled down his boxers so you could free his member. Your jaw dropped when you saw it. It was thick, definitely not too long but it wasn't small either, it was a size that you considered perfect. Its length rested on his stomach which was still covered by his blue shirt.

"I know you can take it, show me how well you suck it."

Damn, with that language I would let him do whatever he wanted to me

You took his length with your right hand, a smile forming on your face when you realized that your fingers were not touching your thumb on the other side. first time you had one like this and you were going to enjoy it. You left kisses on the tip and then put the head of his member in your mouth, delicately sucking it, while you heard moans and grunts come out of Joel's mouth.

Both of his hands were placed on your head, urging you to take more of his length into your mouth, and so you did. You opened your lips wider to give him access to more of him, his hands guiding you up and down as a trail of saliva ran down his member. Your right hand didn't stop moving, it followed the same movements as your head.

you wanted to give him more, you wanted him to feel satisfied by your mouth. You took his member from your lips, only touching it with your hand, you looked at him through your eyelashes and you could see how excited he was, his eyes screamed for your attention. You lowered your head so you could kiss his balls.

You put one in your mouth as you slowly sucked him, while your right hand masturbated his member. You looked at him and watched with his head thrown back while moans and moans left his lips. He lowered his head to look you in the eyes, you saw how his teeth pressed together, how his neck would tense and his neck veins would show through his sweaty skin, his eyebrows united in excitement .

You continued sucking and touching his member while he undid the knot of his tie and tossed it aside on the couch.

Joel leaned over to you, pulled his testicles out of your mouth, and grabbed you by your armpits to pull you up.

"I don't want to come in your mouth honey, I need to do it inside you" as he told you that he placed you on his lap, each leg on one side of his hip.

You were wearing a shortboard skirt, so he had easy access to your underwear. With his hands he pulled your skirt up until it folded up to your back, and with both hands he pulled your panties down. You lifted one leg so you could pull it out of your panties and leave them hanging by just one.

He slid his right hand between your legs so he could caress your clit that ached for attention. You moaned at the touch of his calloused fingers on your soft skin. You were so wet that you could feel the remnants of your wetness on your inner thighs.

"Hell sweetheart, does this tight pussy cry for attention?"

You suppressed your moans by biting your lip as you looked straight into his eyes, the only thing you could see in them was your reflection as his eyes were darker than they were, you could see how he needed this as much as you did.

"Just fuck me please," the words came squinting from your lips as little whimpers followed.

Without telling you, he placed you on top of his cock, you felt how he guided the tip in your entrance making you sigh, without further do, he entered you suddenly. You let out a loud moan that caused you to bend over and bite his shoulder so you could silence your scream.

He began to move and penetrate you tightly while holding you firmly by the hips. Your breasts were a few inches from his face, practically bouncing off his chin. The place became a sauna of sweat, moans and gasping breaths from both of you. You straightened up so that you could take control of the situation, seeing your action he let you take control and ride him.

He looked so good from above, you could feel the firmness of his hands, as they traveled from your breasts, to your hips, waist and buttocks squeezing them firmly, he spanked you to encourage you.

"You're so good, God you look so beautiful from here," he said in a voice choked from lack of breath as he approached your breasts and kissed them over the fabric biting a little over the top.

"Shit" you couldn't control your moans, the more you felt your orgasm build, as you watched the gestures on his face, the way his neck tightened, your hands on his hair, on his face as you leaned in to kiss him. A deep kiss that led him to stick you to his chest, hold you in place and penetrate you hard.

His balls bounced off your ass, echoing around the room as it mingled with your whining between his lips.

"I'm coming Joel" his name came out mostly in the form of a moan

"Come on baby, let me hear ya"

Your orgasm hit you hard, you couldn't help but let out a loud moan that echoed through the room, whining coming out of your lips as joel penetrated you mercilessly. Joel's moans were present as he kept pace with his lunges. From one moment to the next you could feel his movements losing pace as moans came out of the back of his throat.

You knew he was about to end when the sound of an engine came through the entrance. You froze, you knew it was his wife, you looked at him and he had his eyes closed as he penetrated you, you knew he was concentrating because he heard him too.

"Joel," your voice cracked from the friction your was receiving.

The grip of his hands around your hips intensified as he opened his eyes and looked at you, his movements were slowing down but you could see through his eyes how he was collapsing little by little.

It wasn't enough a couple more thrusts and the sound of a car door closed, so that he came down hard inside you, silencing his moan on your lips as he penetrated you deeply a couple more times to empty itself completely into you.

Hearing the keys in the lock, you both got up, you fixed your skirt while he quickly buttoned his pants and shirt. You got away from him by taking your things.

Joel adjusted his hair as his wife's heels echoed across the floor of the house.

You could feel Joel's fluids trickle down your inner thighs. You could feel your cheeks red and hot from all the blood that went down your face, the heat you felt emanating from your body.

His wife thanked you for taking care of Sarah. Before leaving you were saying goodbye to his wife and you turned to look at him, he was behind her a few meters away from you, he smiled at you, but this time it was different, it was a smile you had never seen, your eye contact ended with a wink from him.

You didn't know how the hell you were going to work for them.

You didn't know how you were going to walk into that house every day and see him leave, see him come home from work while you take care of his daughter.

But if you knew anything….. This wouldn't be the last time it would happen

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Winner Takes All

Azriel x Original Character (Celeste)

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary : After returning from a girls retreat weekend at the cabin, Nesta and Celeste find out the Bat Boy husbands have made a bet they are sure to lose.

Author's Note : Azriel and Celeste are the pairing from my in progress multi-part fic. This can be read as a standalone and takes place after the events of that story.

Warnings : light swearing, explicit sex described - masturbation, p in v

Celeste had just settled herself into the plush sofa in the living room. Tucking her feet under her, she grabbed her latest novel from the table. 

“I’ll be upstairs.” Azriel said as he leaned over the sofa back for a kiss. “I have a lot to catch up on.”

She leaned her head back to meet his lips above her. Landing a quick peck, Az pulled back and flashed her a quick smile. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Celeste frowned at the kiss she was expecting to linger, but before she could complain a sharp rap sounded from the front door. 

Az sighed, “I’ll get it.” 

From where she sat, Celeste could see the face that stormed through the door before a word was even uttered. 

“Hi, Nes,” she called from her seat. 

“You,” Nesta stalked into the room with a scowl on her face. “Come with me.” Grabbing Celeste’s wrist with no explanation she pulled her to standing and started yanking her down the back hall towards the kitchen.

“Yes, hello Nesta.” Az drawled with an exaggerated nod in her direction as they passed. The scowl on her face only deepened.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on, Nes?” Celeste asked, trying to keep her silk slippers from falling off her feet.

Nesta just carried on in silence until they reached the kitchen. Stopping abruptly, Celeste nearly slammed into her from the change in speed. Nes only shoved her gently to the side before peering out the door.

“Nes?”

Satisfied that they were alone, she whipped around. “Has Az been acting…strange?”

Celeste’s brow furrowed. “Strange? What do you mean?”

“You know, strange. Weird. Not like himself. Like — sexually.”

A shocked laugh left Celeste’s lips. “Nesta! That’s a bit forward don’t you think?”

A miniscule movement in the shadow cast across the cabinet front caught Nesta’s eye. “Out!,” she demanded as she whipped her head towards the movement. A quick fluttering of mist promptly zoomed back through the kitchen door. 

“What exactly is going on, Nes? Should I be worried?”

“I knew it was a terrible idea to head out on a girls weekend all together,” she stated, shaking her head. “Leaving the boys alone all to themselves always starts some kind of trouble.”

Feyre, Nesta and Celeste had just returned from a three day girls retreat at the cabin. The husbands had been left behind in charge of the domestic duties and themselves. 

“I’m confused. What does leaving them all alone together have to do with my husband’s sex life?” Celeste giggled.

Narrowing her eyes, Nesta leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, “Apparently a bet has been made between them. Except it doesn’t just involve them.” 

At Celeste’s apparent confusion she continued. “They seem to have made a bet with each other about which one of them can go the longest without having sex.”

“Those sneaky bastards,” Celeste breathed out in shock. She immediately thought of all the quick kisses and restrained touches she had gotten since coming home two days ago. Az hadn’t even ravished her like he normally did after time apart, claiming to be feeling unwell. Celeste hadn’t been able to find anything remotely wrong with him through her healer’s touch but had let it go. He had buried himself in work ever since. 

“Does Feyre know?” she questioned.

“It doesn’t matter. Rhys apparently didn’t even make it through the night we returned. I’ll tell her later. I only know because Cassian thought maybe if he told me why he won’t touch me that I would play along and help him win,” Nesta scoffed. “Honestly, I’m so mad about the bet that I might just let him win out of spite.”

Celeste didn’t reply right away, a look of concentrated contemplation on her face. 

“What if we make a little bet of our own then?” 

A sly grin crossed Nesta’s face. “I’m listening.”

“What if we do our best to undermine their bet and then we commandeer the winnings and take ourselves out to a nice dinner. On them.”

“Doesn’t really sound like much of a bet if there is no downside,” Nesta laughed. 

“Exactly,” Celeste declared. “Just a little harmless fun. You in?”

Nesta cracked out a laugh. “Harmless, sure. I’m in.”

Celeste laughed along with her. “Who do you think we can break first?”

“I don’t know,” Nesta thought aloud, “It’s down to just Cas and Az now and you know Az has one hell of a competitive streak.” She winked at Celeste with a smirk. “This close to winning, I think he might be the hold out.”

“We will see about that,” Celeste said with a smirk of her own. “Where is Cas now?”

“He had to run out with Rhys, something something — I wasn’t listening. He said he’d be back in a couple hours.”

“Well, how about this? Double or nothing. I can break Azriel and end the whole silly bet before Cassian even makes it home.”

Another sharp laugh echoes through the kitchen. “You’re on.”

******

The door had barely clicked behind her friend before Celeste was up the stairs and digging in the wardrobe in the bedroom. Finding just the thing she was looking for, she quickly changed before donning her lightweight house robe. Taking a quick peek in the mirror in the bathroom she pinched at her cheeks and watched them bloom with color before adding a swipe of a colored gloss to her lips. 

Tucking her book under her arm, she made her way down the hall. The door to Azriel’s office was closed tight but she didn’t even bother knocking.

“Mind if I join you?” she questioned as she peeked her head in.

Azriel’s gaze lifted from the stack of papers in front of him as he sat behind the large oak desk. “Of course not. If you don’t mind me working a bit longer that is.”

“That’s fine.” Celeste meandered over to the sofa sitting in front of the fireplace. “I brought a book. I just wanted to be in your company.” She smiled at her husband sweetly.

With nothing but a nod in response, Celeste settled herself down upon the cushions. The sofa angled perpendicular to his desk, she made sure to lean her back against the sofa arm that had her facing him directly. Azriel hadn’t even spared her another glance before returning to his work, pen in hand. 

With her legs stretched out before her, she opened her book and propped it in her lap. The next several minutes ticked by in silence. Only the scratch of Az’s fountain pen and the crackling of the fire sounded as Celeste did actually commit herself to reading some before enacting her plan. Suddenly, she gave a small gasp of surprise as she pulled her book closer.

Az’s eyes flicked up from his work without even raising his head, pen still in hand.

“Sorry,” she smiled sweetly once more. “This book is just getting really good.”

Not even a nod this time as he returned to his task.

“Ohh,” she purred out after two more minutes had passed. 

He flicked his gaze up again, his chin following this time. “Must be a pretty interesting book.”

“Oh, it is.” Celeste responded as she ran her hand over the collar of her robe, pulling at it slightly.

Az gave a lopsided smile before once again returning to his work.

Ok, time to get this show on the road. She thought to herself.

Celeste allowed another minute to pass before she snapped her book shut, placing it on the table next to her. The sound caused Az to twitch with a start as he watched her leave her seat to stand. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?”

It was so quiet that she could hear the whisper of silk as the robe slipped from her shoulders and pooled onto the floor. Underneath she was clad in an absolutely scandalous outfit. A pure white baby doll style nightgown graced her ample frame, although calling it a gown was generous. The hem barely grazed the top of her abundant thighs and the entire thing was practically see through. She had purposely left out the matching panties. 

“That’s much better,” she said with a saccharine smile and bent to retrieve her book, making sure to exaggerate her bow in the right direction before settling herself back onto the sofa.

“Now where was I?” She thumbed at the bookmark she had placed and settled the book back in her lap without even a look toward her husband. 

“Celeste.” Azriel’s dark rumble seemed to skitter over her skin as he spoke. It wasn’t a question.

“Hmm?” She feigned innocence as she dragged her eyes from her book to look over at him.

The heat in his eyes told her she was definitely on the right track. His pupils had nearly blotted out the entirety of his light hazel eyes. “What are you up to?” 

“Me? Just reading. And you are working,” she narrowed her own molten eyes at him. “So don’t mind me.”

She nearly giggled as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his wings twitching. “That doesn’t look like just reading,” the low rumble of his voice was still there. 

“And it doesn’t look like you are getting much work done,” she says sweetly, this time allowing herself a small giggle. 

They held each other’s stare across the room, both of them as still as stone. Celeste waited for him to make the move from his seat but it didn’t come.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” she questioned. 

Azriel narrowed his eyes at her and his head gave a small shake of confusion. 

“Normally you’d have me pinned to the furniture by now. Have you been struck lame?”

She didn’t miss the shudder in his breath as he heaved a sigh. “Celeste, sweetheart, as much as I would love to, I really do need to finish these tonight.”

“Alright.” She shrugged as she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Don’t let me stop you.” 

It took nearly a full minute before Az dropped his own gaze back to his desktop. Within seconds, Celeste began sliding her hand over her collarbone.

“Mmm,” she purred as she flipped the page, bringing her hand back up to her chest and sliding down the space between her breasts. Azriel’s eyes landed on her once more but she didn't stop to acknowledge it. Gliding her palm under one breast she weighs it briefly before sliding her fingertips to the puckering dark tip. With a quick twisting pinch, she sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

“Celeste.”

Her hand was now at the edge of her hem, toying with it for just a second before she pulled it up. The downy tuft of her core was exposed as her hand continued its journey over it. 

“Azriel.” She practically moaned his name as her finger slipped into the joining of her folds, brushing against her aching clit.

The creak of the office chair snapped her attention back to him but she didn’t stop her movements. Noticing he had pushed himself back from the desk some, she gave a seductive smile in his direction. Staring practically into his soul, Celeste slid one foot from the cushion and planted it firmly on the floor, opening her knee wide. 

“Ohhh – Az,” She moaned again, gathering her arousal on her fingers. Tilting her head back one more she said breathlessly, “This book. It’s just – too good.”

The sight of her glistening sex open before him did the trick. Within the blink of an eye he was at her side, standing between the low table and the sofa. 

“I have work to do,” his voice was all gravel but nowhere near convincing.

Looking up at him, she paused her hand. Slipping it from her wetness, Celeste pushed herself up to sit facing him, knees primly together.

 She leaned forward slightly as she reached for his front, noting the breath he was now holding. “Is there something you want to tell me?” 

Her hands slid briefly over his belt buckle and he released his breath with a hitch. With a quickness her palms met his hips and with a gentle pressure she guided him down to sit on the table. “Maybe something about a little bet perhaps?”

“Damn it Rhys,” Az releases the entirety of his breath now as he scrubs his hand down his face. “Celeste, I can exp–”

“It was actually Cassian who snitched,” she smirked wickedly at him. “But it seems he is still in the running, according to Nesta.”

Leaning back and releasing her hold on his hips she allowed her back to meet the sofa. Slowly, she dragged on foot along his shin before planting it firmly on the table edge beside his hip, watching as his eyes flared and dropped to her lap.

“I would hate..” 

The other leg repeated the motion.

“For you to lose…”

Her hand slipped down to her dripping folds.

“All that coin.”

“Devious,” Az growled with a predatory grin, running one hand up her leg. “Positively unfair.” 

Leaning forward he attempted to bring his face closer to where Celeste’s hand was gliding. Before he could get far, one pointed foot landed on his shoulder pushing him back upright.

“No, a bet is a bet,” her voice firm as her fingers return to their task. “You can watch.”

“Fuck the bet,” his voice deepened. Trying once more to lean himself forward, she pushed back against his shoulder harder. 

“Now Azriel, where is your competitive spirit?” She slid her fingers over her throbbing clit and gasped, dropping her foot back to the table. 

“Besides,” she said breathlessly. “I expect a really nice present with the winnings.”

Sliding a finger over that aching spot, she moaned loudly before slipping the digit inside herself. Her hips bucked off the couch just as Az grabbed a hold of her ankles on the table, holding her in place. 

“Fine,” he grunts out hardly above a whisper. “As long as you tell me what it is you are thinking about.”

With a smile she continues. “I’m thinking about your tongue,” she panted out, staring at his face. “Right here.” She circled her thumb around her clit.

“And the way you slip it inside me,” she gasped as a second finger joined the other inside her.

“How you curl it.” Celeste’s fingers mimicked the movement inside her. “Over and over, right on that one spot.” Her hips bucked again as she sucked in a shuddering breath and threw her head back. 

“But mostly,” she started as she pulled her fingers back out, returning them to her clit in the familiar pattern she knows will make this light work. “I'm thinking about what comes after.”

“How your body feels pressed against mine when you push inside me,” she moaned.

“Especially when you do it slow,” she whined.

“Oh gods, so slowly, stretching me as you go,” she cried. 

The sudden displacement of air as he stood and the ringing clank of Azriel’s belt buckle broke the moment. “This won’t be slow, sweetheart,” he growled.

In an instant, his pants and underwear were pushed down and kicked to the side, knocking one of Celeste’s legs off the table. Swooping down, he caught it and used it to swivel her to lay fully reclined on the long sofa. Az planted one knee on the cushion as Celeste hooked the leg over his hip. 

“Thank the gods,” she laughed, bringing her hands up to his shoulders.

He caught the hand that had teased him so mercilessly before she could place it. With a groan he pressed her sodden fingers to his tongue as he angled himself at her entrance. With a flick of his tongue he tasted her arousal at the same time he slammed into her in one jolting thrust. 

“Azriel!” she cried as he picked up a punishing pace. 

Every thrust pushed out a mewling sound from her throat. Az leaned down as he moved her arm to the back of his neck with the other and pressed his lips to her ear. 

“Wicked,” he grunted with a hard thrust before pulling her earlobe between his teeth. 

“Yes,” she panted in his ear. “Punish me — harder.” Her nails were digging into his shoulders.

Bracing himself with one hand on the sofa arm, Az granted her wish as she cried out in ecstasy beneath him. The force of his thrusts shook the furniture and threatened to knock over the lamp next to it. 

“Oh yes,” Celeste screamed. “Gods. Az. Fuck – I’m —”

With a bellowing shout, Azriel came at the same time Celeste fell apart around him. The pulsing of her core around his cock had him hissing through his teeth as he continued to thrust into her until every last drop was wrung from him. With a final grunt he collapsed on top of her, their galloping hearts pressed together as they gathered their breath after release.

“Well, looks like my pockets are going to be a little lighter,” Az sighed as he pushed himself up with a kiss to her neck. Celeste let out a ringing laugh.

“What’s so funny? I lost the bet,” he smiled at her.

She just laughed again, louder this time. “Maybe you did, but I didn’t.”

******

Later, after leaving Azriel to the work that he actually did need to complete that night, Celeste slipped into the library before heading to bed. Digging through her desk drawer, she found what she was after. One of the enchanted pads that she had spelled to deliver directly between her and Nesta in the House of Wind. With a quick scrawl she scratched out her note before watching it disappear.

Dinner. Tomorrow. 6 o’clock.

Don’t be late.

[moonstruckme]

In a week-

Hear me out: Rockstar Poly!marauders and Rockstar!reader???? Like, maybe no one knew the marauders was dating reader till they performed together for an event?????

Thanks for requesting lovely!

join the party

rockstar poly!marauders x rockstar!reader ♡ 1k words

The tabloids had started speculating when too many of your tour dates lined up. It’s only natural that you’d end up spending some time together, in the same occupation and occupying the same spheres, so you were seen with each of the boys at various eateries, at afterparties, on the street. The only problem for journalists was, they couldn’t figure out which band member you were dating. 

They were clutching at straws. A picture of you grabbing Remus’ hand to pull him into a store, an interview wherein Sirius had complimented your new single, a zoomed-in video of James carrying four coffees back up to the hotel instead of three. The speculation was all over the place, scattered and nearly baseless. 

Not after tonight. It had been Lily, the Marauders’ manager, who’d had the idea to take this story by the reins. She’d pointed out that fans were only getting more obsessed with the question of which of the boys you were dating, and with both of you releasing new albums soon, it was as good a time as any to capitalize on that interest. Plus, if you did the big reveal before any magazine could figure it out, it’d be your concert that went viral, not their publication. “More press,” she’d said enticingly, “means more people learning your names and listening to your music.” 

You’d thought the boys would be the ones to have qualms. Remus wasn’t the type to enjoy making his private life public (it was more an unfortunate side-effect of his career than a draw) and James always talked about how keeping your relationship a secret made it feel less like they had to share you with everyone else, but in the end, they got on board with Lily’s scheme quickly. You all agreed that someone was going to figure you all out sooner or later, and if your romantic life was going to be broadcast, it may as well be on your own terms. 

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not nervous. 

“Loosen up, angel,” James says, prodding at your foot with his as you lie on Remus’ chest, picking through his usually well-guarded stash of chocolate. “This is supposed to be fun, remember?” 

“It’s not the show I’m worried about,” you say, rubbing your socked foot along his mindlessly. “I’m excited to play with you guys, I just wish we could do that without everyone making assumptions.” 

Remus hums in agreement, but Sirius makes a derisive sound, turning to look at you from the mirror. His eyeliner is half done, making one eye seem big and dangerous and the other naked. 

“You two are being so dramatic,” he says. “Of course they’re gonna assume, and they’ll be right. That’s the point.” 

You sigh, tipping your head back onto Remus’ shoulder, and he runs his hand up and down your side commiseratively. 

“It’s going to be a great show.” James tries again to lift your foul mood. You try to look less dismal in return. “You and Sirius’ voices go so well together, the crowd will love it.”

“It’s true.” Sirius smirks at you through the mirror. “And later, we’ll go to the afterparty—”

“Do we really have to?” Remus asks.

James looks sympathetic, reaching forward to rub his calf consolingly. “‘Fraid so, love. Lily says the only way to control the narrative is to talk to people after the show. We don’t have to stay the whole time, but we’ll practically be on the clock.”

“Anyway,” Sirius goes on. “We’ll go to the afterparty, and everyone will tell us how cute we are together, and everyone north of the equator will want to be us and fuck us at the same time.” 

You can tell Remus has something to say about that, but before he can, Lily pops her head into the dressing room. “Guys, the opener is finishing up,” she says, eyes lingering on each of your faces assessingly. “Everyone ready?”

“Just a second…yeah,” Sirius says, finishing his perfectly messy eyeliner. “Ready.”

Lily nods before ducking back out, off to go coordinate light technicians or whatever she does in the rush before shows. James offers you and Remus a hand each, hauling you up. You lick your thumb, wiping a bit of chocolate from the side of Remus’ mouth, and he gives you a half-smile of thanks. 

“We got this,” you whisper to him, and he takes your hand, squeezing lightly. 

“I know we do, sweetheart.” 

Sirius is the only one talking as you all make your way to the side of the stage, the crowd cheering loudly as the opening act wraps up their set. 

“Hey.” A hand lands on your shoulder, and you turn to find James attached to it. He’s looking at you with more than the usual pre-show nerves, something more like worry. “Are you really upset about this? We don’t have to go through with it, it’s not too late to tell Lily it’s off.” 

Yes it is, but he’s a sweetheart for saying so. “No, I’m okay,” you promise, reaching up to squeeze his wrist reassuringly. The other band is exiting on the opposite side of the stage, the lights going out. You’re going to be going out there any minute. “I’m excited to perform with you guys, and…and I’m ready to be done with the sneaking around. I’m just nervous, I guess.” 

James slides his hand up from your shoulder to cup your face, your hand still clasped loosely around his wrist. He smooths his thumb over your cheek fondly, eyes gone soft under the faint glaze of adrenaline. “Don’t be, sweetheart. You’re going to do great, and we’ll all be up there together.” He stoops lower so only you can hear him. “Just between us, you and Sirius sound great together, but you can hit notes he never could. They’re gonna love you out there.” 

You grin, and Sirius turns around, eyeing the both of you. “I heard my name,” he says accusingly. “What’re we talking about?”

The lights come back on, and that’s your cue. “Nothing!” you chirp, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the stage. “Let’s go.”

[herstoryheaven]

Lando Norris x Reader: Racing Through Fear

Prompt: Y/n stands in the pouring rain among a crowd of Formula 1 fans. When Lando Norris' car crashes violently, Y/n doesn't hesitate to jump onto the track to save him. This act of bravery leads to the confession of hidden feelings.

Reader: Gender Neutral

Word count: 1840

Average reading time: 6 min 40 sec

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: This story contains intense scenes involving a race accident, resulting in injury and emotional distress. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with care.

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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The rain was pouring down, drenching everything in sight. Y/n stood among the crowds of Formula 1 fans, her excitement mingled with an underlying layer of anxiety as the weather showed no signs of letting up. She pulled her raincoat tighter, shivering as the cold seeped through. The circuit was a mess, puddles forming everywhere, and the whispers of concern grew louder amongst the crowd.

"Is it even safe to race in this?" someone muttered nearby.

Despite the worried murmurs, the race went to a start. Engines roared to life, and the cars zoomed down the track, spraying water in their wake. Y/n's eyes were fixed on one car in particular, Lando Norris'. Her heart raced along with the cars, a mixture of pride and fear surging through her for her friend.

Several laps into the race, disaster struck. Lando's car hit a particularly treacherous patch of water, hydroplaning uncontrollably. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched the car veer off course, crashing violently into the barrier. The collective gasp from the crowd was deafening.

Red flags waved, and the race paused. Panic surged through Y/n as she realized there was no communication from Lando’s car. The team's radio was down, and there were no marshals nearby to assist. Her gaze fixed on the small fire beginning to form at the back of the car.

Without thinking, she bolted from her spot, jumping over the barriers and sprinting onto the track. Rain floods her face, blurring her vision, but she is determent. The only thing that mattered was reaching Lando.

"Lando!" she shouted, skidding to a stop beside the wrecked car. "Can you move?"

Lando groaned, clutching his wrist. "I... I can't, my wrist..."

Y/n's hands trembled as she removed the steering wheel, her heart pounding wildly. "You have to get out, now! There's oil leaking and a fire starting. The car might explode!"

Lando's eyes widened in realization, and with Y/n's help, he managed to climb out of the car. Together, they ran, the adrenaline giving them a burst of speed. They barely made it over the barrier when the car exploded, the force of the blast knocking them to the ground.

Lando instinctively covered Y/n with his body, shielding her from the flying debris. They lay there for a moment, panting and shaking. When the danger passed, Lando helped her to her feet, his eyes scanning her for injuries.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice shaky, his eyes searching hers with intensity.

Y/n nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Just a few scratches. What about you?"

"Just a sprained wrist, I think," he replied, wincing slightly.

Marshals finally arrived, ushering them both to the paddock for medical exams. Lando was checked first, and surprisingly, his injuries were minor. Meanwhile, Y/n tried to slip away, feeling out of place amongst the drivers and team members.

"Hey, where are you going?" Oscar called out, stopping her in her tracks. He jogged over, concern written all over his face.

Charles, Carlos, Max, and George quickly joined them, their expressions mirroring Oscar's worry. "Is Lando okay?" Charles asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

Y/n nodded, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands. "He's fine, just a sprained wrist I heard."

"And what about you?" Max asked gently, his gaze lingering on her face with genuine concern. His normally sharp, competitive demeanor softened due to the day’s events.

"I'm fine, really," Y/n insisted, though her voice wavered slightly. She tried to smile, but the adrenaline was still coursing through her, making her feel unsteady.

George placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his touch grounding. "Thank you for what you did. That was incredibly brave," he said, his voice filled with admiration.

Carlos stepped closer, his eyes warm and sincere. "You didn't hesitate for a second. That takes a lot of courage."

Y/n shrugged, feeling overwhelmed by their praise. "I just did what anyone would do. I couldn't just stand there and do nothing."

Oscar shook his head, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Not everyone would have had the guts to do what you did. You were amazing out there."

Charles nodded in agreement, a hint of a smile softening his features. "We all saw what happened. You saved Lando’s life."

Y/n felt a blush creep up her cheeks, the intensity of their gratitude and concern almost too much to bear. She had always admired these drivers from a distance, and now, here they were, complementing her for what she did.

Max took a step closer, his eyes searching hers. "You might not realize it, but you’re a hero today."

Before Y/n could respond, Lando emerged from the medical area, spotting her surrounded by the other drivers. His face lit up with relief and gratitude. He walked up to her, his eyes locking onto hers with a look of intense emotion. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

Y/n shrugged again, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I couldn't just sit there and watch you possibly die."

Lando pulled her into a gentle hug, his warmth seeping into her cold, damp skin. "I owe you my life," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot against her neck. He pulled back slightly, noticing her soaked clothes and trembling hands. "Come on, let's get you into something dry."

The other drivers nodded, stepping back to give them space. "We'll catch up with you both later," George said with a reassuring smile.

He led her to the McLaren hospitality area, handing her his hoodie and a pair of women’s sweatpants he found. She changed quickly, feeling a warmth spread through her from the dry clothes and Lando's kindness.

The race was canceled due to the severe weather, and Y/n found herself sitting with Lando, talking quietly. She explained her actions, her voice trembling at the thought of what could have happened. Lando reached out, taking her hand in his, their fingers intertwining.

"Thank you for saving me," he said again, his thumb stroking her hand gently. "But promise me you'll never do something so reckless again."

Y/n managed a small smile, her heart fluttering at his touch. "Only if you promise not to be so reckless on the track."

He chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. "Deal."

As they sat together in the quiet of the McLaren hospitality area, the events of today but a distant memory. The adrenaline that had once coursed through their veins had settled into a serene calm. Lando's thumb traced gentle patterns on the back of Y/n's hand, anchoring them both in the moment.

"Y/n," Lando began softly, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart flutter, "I don't know how to thank you properly. What you did was beyond brave. You risked everything for me."

A blush crept up her cheeks as she glanced down at their intertwined hands. "I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. If your car had exploded and I just sat there and didn’t even try anything I would have never forgiven myself. I care too much about you to not have done anything."

Lando's heart swelled at her words, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with his dry clothes. He gently lifted her chin with his free hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I care about you too, more than I realized until today."

A shy smile played at Y/n's lips. "I guess it took a bit of chaos for us to see it."

Lando chuckled, the sound light and genuine. "A bit of chaos and a very brave heart." He leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. "You know, when I was in that car, all I could think about was you. I didn't want to leave things unsaid."

Her breath hitched, and she whispered, "What do you mean?"

He paused, his eyes searching hers with a depth that made her heart skip a beat. "I mean that I've been falling for you for a while now, and today just made it crystal clear. I don't want to waste another moment not telling you how I feel."

Y/n's eyes glistened with tears, but this time they were tears of joy. "Lando, I feel the same way. Seeing you crash... it was the scariest moment of my life. I realized how much you mean to me."

Lando's smile was radiant, his face inching closer until their lips met in a tender, heartfelt kiss. The world outside seemed to disappear as they lost themselves in each other, the kiss deepening with every passing second. It was a kiss filled with unspoken promises and the relief of two longtime friends finally coming together.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their smiles wide and hearts full. Lando pressed his forehead against hers, his voice barely above a whisper. "I promise I'll be more careful out there. For you."

Y/n nodded, her fingers gently caressing his cheek. "And I promise I'll always be there for you, no matter what."

He hugged her tightly, as if afraid to let go. "You're incredible, you know that?"

She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "I think we're both pretty incredible."

The rest of the drivers, who had been watching the tender moment from a respectful distance, approached them with wide grins and teasing remarks. Oscar clapped Lando on the back, chuckling. "Took you long enough, mate."

Charles nodded in agreement, a playful glint in his eyes. "We were starting to think we'd have to lock you two in a room together to get you to admit your feelings."

Max smirked, adding, "Looks like a bit of danger was just the push you both needed."

Y/n blushed again, but Lando just laughed, his arm securely around her waist. "Yeah, well, sometimes it takes nearly losing something to realize how much it means to you."

George grinned, giving Y/n a gentle pat on the shoulder. "We're glad you're okay. Both of you."

Carlos stepped forward, his expression sincere. "You both showed incredible bravery today. It's a story we'll be telling for years."

As the group shared in their relief and happiness, the bond between Y/n and Lando only grew stronger. They spent the rest of the day together, surrounded by friends who had become family. The rain outside eventually subsided, giving way to a clear, starry night.

Lando and Y/n found themselves alone again, sitting on a quiet balcony overlooking the now peaceful circuit. The air was cool, and Lando draped his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, "this is just the beginning for us."

Y/n smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "I know. And I can't wait to see where it takes us."

He kissed the top of her head, his heart full. "Neither can I."

Under the starlit sky, they sat in comfortable silence, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

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Copyright: All stories contained herein are the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of these stories, in whole or in part, without explicit written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. Respect the creator's rights and creativity. For permissions or inquiries, please contact: herstoryheaven@gmail.com.

Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.

[and-her-saints]

Hey sorry idk if you'd know this but I quite literally don't know where to turn about this so I'm sending this ask to every queer+catholic blog I can find

Are there *any* resources out there for queer/trans Catholics that go beyond affirmation and show how to pursue a religious life that goes beyond the laity (e.g. priesthood, joining a convent/monastery, something similar) without having to brush your queerness aside. I feel like if I don't find something soon I might go insane

years ago, i attended a Zoom event with Fr. James Alison as a keynote speaker, and something he said has been glued to my brain ever since. he said it in Spanish, so i'll try to remember, paraphrase and translate: "while they try to get us to stop being queer, what we must try to do is to be better queers."

i love what you said about "beyond affirmation" and that is precisely why i got reminded of the quote and WHY this quote resonated with me to begin with.

imho, there is a fundamental issue with a lot of queer theology and it's that it doesn't go beyond apologetics. it's not pragmatic nor does it seem to engage critically with the material conditions that work with or against queerness. and it's truly such a shame, because living "religiously" to me, as a queer catholic, it's infinitely more a matter of coherence, love, devotion and solidarity, than learning how to "reconcile" gayness/transness with the Bible.

it's a journey, of course. the apologetics were and are necessary for many of us to unlearn the hatred that might've been instilled in us through religious education and upbringing. however, here are some resources that, in my opinion, show how to pursue queer-religious-life.

💌 catholic/christian resources:

[book] The Reckless Way of Love: Notes on Following Jesus by Dorothy Day. Unlike larger collections and biographies, which cover her radical views, exceptional deeds, and amazing life story, this book focuses on a more personal dimension of her life: Where did she receive strength to stay true to her God-given calling despite her own doubts and inadequacies and the demands of an activist life? What was the unquenchable wellspring of her deep faith and her love for humanity?

[book & account] Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems, and Meditations for Staying Human by Cole Arthur Riley. Black Liturgies is a digital project that connects spiritual practice with Black emotion, Black memory, and the Black body. In this book, she brings together hundreds of new prayers, along with letters, poems, meditation questions, breath practices, scriptures, and the writings of Black literary ancestors to offer forty-three liturgies that can be practiced individually or as a community.

[book] Cry of the Earth, Cry of the Poor by Leonardo Boff. Focusing on the threated Amazon of his native Brazil, Boff traces the economic and metaphysical ties that bind the fate of the rain forests with the fate of the indigenous peoples and the poor of the land. He shows how liberation theology must join with ecology in reclaiming the dignity of the earth and our sense of a common community, part of God's creation. To illustrate the possibilities, Boff turns to resources in Christian spirituality both ancient and modern, from the vision of St. Francis of Assisi to cosmic christology.

[book] Undoing Theology: Life Stories from Non-normative Christians by Chris Greenough. The fundamental issue with ‘queer’ research is it cannot exist in any definable form, as the purpose of queer is to disrupt and disturb. Undoing Doing generates a process of ‘undoing’ as central to queer research enquiries. Aiming to engage in a process which breaks free from traditional academic norms, the text explores three life stories

[podcast] The Magnificast. "A weekly podcast about Christianity and leftist politics. The Magnificast is hosted by Dean Dettloff and Matt Bernico. Each week's episode focuses on a unique or under-realized aspect of territory between Christianity and politics that no one taught you about in sunday school."

💌 non-christian but still excellent resources:

[book] Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H. A memoir by a butch hijabi that follows the experiences of the author through stories and figures from the Qur'an.

[book] Lean on Me: A Politics of Radical Care by Lynne Segal. Questions of care, intimacy, education, meaningful work, and social engagement lie at the core of our ability to understand the world and its possibilities for human flourishing. In Lean On Me feminist thinker Lynne Segal goes in search of hope in her own life and in the world around her. She finds it entwined in our intimate commitments to each other and our shared collective endeavours.

i don't think these are precisely what you were looking for. but i hope these resources bring you as much peace and hope as they have brought me.

[eringobragh420]

Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader Summary: Damian’s girlfriend is producing a piece on him. He decides to produce a piece of his own. Warnings: NSFW, obviously, lol. Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! Roleyplay, name-calling, dirty talk, sex, oral (m and f receiving), cum. Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend, @terrortwinunicorn. If you’d like to be added, please let me know! Requested By: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend. Hope you enjoy! Sorry it took so long 😭😭

“Alright, guys. I’m Damian Priest. Thanks for watching.” He threw up his index and pinky fingers just before his girlfriend pressed the button on the expensive camera to stop it recording.

“Outstanding,” she praised. Kneeling on the soft, white carpet of their home, she sat back on her legs as she played the footage back on the screen to be sure nothing weird was in the frame, and that the sound levels were normal and Damian’s voice came through clearly. WWE had tasked her as a producer (and probably because the two had been dating for a year) to create an intimate look into Damian’s private life. Which hadn’t been much, considering neither of them were in any hurry to show off their personal lives to the entire world. Despite this, she knew she had a good product. “Looks like we got it.”

“Yeah?” Damian asked. “Let me see.” She handed him the camera and busied herself with packing the camera’s accessories into the bag beside her. After a moment, she realized the only sound in the room was coming from the constant hum of the air conditioner. Glancing up at Damian, he held the camera in both hands, eyes on the screen as if he were watching the playback, but she didn’t hear his voice.

“Are you watching it?” she asked. “Is the sound not working?”

“It’s fine,” he replied, distracted. “I’m watching … you know …” He trailed off, eyes narrowing, focused. 

Her own eyes blinked down at the camera’s lens, brows furrowed. “Is that zoom—are you recording?” she exclaimed. Damian grinned behind the camera, shoulders shaking as he chuckled, and he leaned this way and that as if he were some famous director with a particular vision. “Do I really have to tell you that the camera isn’t a toy?” she teased, dropping her hands on her hips.

“Aww, querida, you know that’s not true,” Damian purred, his tone hitting that one level, the special one, the one that drew her to him like a moth to a flame. “Everything’s a toy if you play with it.”

“So, by that logic …” She leaned forward, bringing her hands to the floor, and she started to crawl toward Damian “I’m a toy.”

“My toy,” Damian sneered.

Her mouth quirked. “Your toy,” she corrected. Damian spread his legs wider to accept her between them, and she tucked her own legs under her like she’d been sitting before.

“And right now—” He reached out, able to hold the lightweight camera with one hand, and cupped her cheek, caressing her skin with his thumb. “—I wanna make my toy into a pornstar.”

All the oxygen left her lungs in an audible whoosh, her heart kicking up its pace. Before she could give the idea much thought, and before she could process the fact they would be using a WWE-issued camera, she nuzzled into the palm of his hand, pressing a few chaste kisses there before licking the heel, all the way up his thumb where she enveloped the digit in her mouth.

“That’s it,” Damian said, pumping his thumb leisurely in and out of her mouth. “You like that idea, don’t you?” She watched as the twinkling stars always present in Damian Priest’s ochre eyes were devoured by growing black holes, and she’d have given anything to see just beyond his event horizon. “You wanna be a pretty little pornstar?” She nodded, eyes round and clear, mouth still working on his thumb. “Good girl,” he praised, and her heart melted, eyes falling closed. “But you gotta audition first.” Her eyes opened just as slowly as they’d closed, meeting his gaze. “You understand?” He removed his thumb from her mouth, and while she was able to speak now, she couldn’t find the words within her hazy, lust-filled brain, so she simply nodded again. Damian tilted his head, “Now take my cock out and show me why you’re better than all the other girls I’ve met this week.”

She admired—and was a little envious of—how easily he was able to go from her loving, devoted boyfriend to the intimidating, apparently manwhore porn director that now sat before her. How he was able to come up with roleplay ideas off the top of his head and was confident enough to act them out as if the scenario was real-world.

“Corazón,” Damian said, “don’t make me tell you again.”

Her hands reached up to work on his belt and jeans, glancing up at the camera, biting her lip, and all she could see of Damian behind the camera were those black eyes. Reaching inside his jeans, she unleashed his semi-hard cock, a grin working its way across her mouth. She loved the challenge of getting him as hard as possible as quickly as possible and she wondered how much assistance the camera was going to give her in said endeavor. Lifting her gaze back to the camera, she engulfed his entire dick in her mouth, a feat she could only achieve before he was fully erect. She dragged her lips back slowly, cheeks collapsing as her mouth created a vacuum, and Damian let loose a moan from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Damn,” he said, “you just go all in, huh?”

She released him with an indecent pop, licking her lips even more lewdly. “Go big or go home, right?” she purred.

“Back in your mouth,” he ordered.

She obeyed, because she loved to obey him, and because she really, really wanted this fake pornstar job. She sucked him back into her searing mouth, lips now stretching around him, bobbing her head. The distinct sound of the head of his dick poking into the back of her throat—that wet, smacking sound—echoed off the walls of their bedroom. Damian cried out, hand slipping around the back of her head, and he fisted a handful of her hair. She grunted, sending vibrations down his cock and into his balls, allowing him to control the pace, which continuously increased. She squeezed his thighs for stability, looking up at him just as tears fell from both eyes and streaked down her cheeks.

“Fuck yeah,” Damian groaned. Her scalp was going numb and her throat was sore and she was drooling all over herself, all over his cock, and, pornstar or not, she never wanted to lose the role of his toy. “Fucking love this, don’t you?” he breathed. “You’d do it even if you weren’t getting paid, huh?” He impaled her throat, holding her there, moaning and mumbling obscenities every time she coughed or gagged. “Puta de mierda.”

He released her, and she yanked herself back, gulping for air, choking on the excess saliva. She was positive she was an absolute mess right now, and it wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined looking the first time they recorded themselves, but this was them. Rough, hot, dirty, needy, and greedy. Damian jerked his soaked cock as she caught her breath, and after a moment, her mouth was back on him, sucking on the head as he continued to stroke.

“I bet you’re wet as fuck chokin’ on this dick,” he went on.

Matter of fact, she was, and, though her mind was foggy, she thought this might have been the first time she’d even noticed her own arousal. So focused had she been on pleasing Damian and getting the job, she didn’t remember once squeezing her thighs for relief. Flexing one thigh and then the other, she readily felt the slickness between her folds and she whined around Damian’s cock.

“Yeah, that’s why I thought,” he snarled. He pulled his dick from her mouth, slapping her cheek with it. “You know I gotta taste that pussy, right?” Breathless, the producer on her knees at the mercy of the World Heavyweight Champion once more could only nod. “Get up here, on your back.”

Damian stepped out of her way, and she climbed onto the bed, rolling onto her back. She reached up to wipe her face off, not able to get much before her boyfriend shoved the camera into her hands. She was turning it around and about to adjust the screen so she would more easily be able to see what she was recording while holding the camera above her when Damian snatched the waistband of her leggings and wrenched them down her thighs. He then shoved her knees to her chest, legs still trapped in spandex, and she felt him rip aside her thong a millisecond before his tongue delved deep into her folds.

“Jesus Christ,” she cried, crossing one ankle over the other. She still maintained a grip on the camera, but where it was pointed she had no idea, as her eyes snapped shut and she thought for a second she did see Jesus Christ.

“Goddamn,” Damian burst. “Goddamn you taste good.” She whimpered, feeling the pad of his finger slide from the top of her clit to the bottom, and then she heard the very recognizable sound of him sucking his finger clean. He tugged the leggings the rest of the way off, tossing them over his shoulder, and then he crossed his arms, grabbed the bottom of his shirt with both hands, and smoothly lifted it over his head.

As Damian stood there in all his el campeón glory, his girlfriend fumbled with the camera, barely getting a shot of him before he grabbed her legs, spread them, and dove face first into her pussy. He licked and sucked with reckless abandon, nipped at her clit, and had her a writhing, sobbing mess almost immediately. A few times she struggled to keep her eyes open so she could watch the screen on the camera, watch Damian devour a bare, glistening pussy, watch the sex tape unfold in real time.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she divulged, gripping the sheets with her free hand. “I’m gonna cum …” Damian groaned, somehow digging deeper in her pussy, his long tongue slipping inside her. And just as she was about to tumble over the edge, Damian was gone, her pussy suddenly cold and unstimulated. She lifted her head and moved the camera. 

“What, you think we’re here for you?” Damian snarled, hands on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his chiseled chest to his swollen, weeping cock, and she unknowingly licked her lips. “Roll over,” he nodded at her, fisting his dick. Damian took the camera from her, and she rolled onto her stomach. “Up on your hands and knees.” She complied, body popping up on all fours, knees spreading, and he was on her instantly, slapping his cock on her ass. “I’m comin’ in raw,” he growled, and while she already knew this to be the case, hearing him say it in this scenario utterly flooded her pussy, and she whined. She pressed back against him. Damian chuckled, deep and throaty, much like villains in the superhero movies. He pulled her pink thong to the side, squeezing her ass cheek. “All you bitches are the same. Look at me.” She glimpsed him over her shoulder, sighing, still unable to believe she’d landed such a god among men in the first place. He held the camera at chest level and it was trained on her. “Tell me what I wanna hear.”

“Please fuck me,” she whispered. “I don’t care if you pay me—” He slid his cock back and forth along her dripping slit, coating it in her slick, and then he slipped it between her ass cheeks, continuing the same motion. “I don’t care if I get the job.” Damian’s eyes met hers, and in her peripheral, she saw him adjust the angle of the camera. “I just need you to fuck me. Please?”

Damian grinned, shaking his head, and he sheathed his entire cock inside her, shoving her forward onto her elbows, and she yelped. On any other day, he’d have stretched her to prepare her for his size, but not this Damian. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he roared, pulling almost completely out before shoving himself inside again, repeating the action a few times. He reached over her and placed the camera on the bed in front of her. She twisted the screen to see what was in the frame, and it was her in the foreground, bent over, Damian behind her, the material of her pink thong wrapped around his hand. “Maybe you’ll get the job after all.” He fucked her earnestly now, a steady, pounding pace. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“Please,” she whined.

“Say it,” he said. “I know you want it … I wanna hear you fucking say it.”

“God,” she whimpered, “cum inside me. Please cum inside me.” Damian grunted, his thrusts becoming more powerful, faster. “I need it,” she continued, not sure if she was laying it on so thickly for her boyfriend or the camera. “I don’t need the job, I just need your fucking cum.”

“Fuck!” Damian shouted. One final pump and he was unloading inside of her. 

She laid her head on the mattress and looked at the camera, satisfied and smiling, reveling in the sensation of his cock contracting within her. “Thank you,” she purred.

Damian grabbed the camera, and she looked at him over her shoulder again. She giggled, shivering, as he probed her pussy with his fingers. “Look at that,” he said, and at the moment, she felt his cum seep out of her hole and down her slit. “Good girl.” He stood up, jeans and belt still hanging loosely on his hips. “Now get out. I got more interviews.”

** Querida - Dearest/Beloved, term of endearment  ** Corazón - Sweetheart ** Puta de mierda - Fucking slut

[seelestia]

— ❝𝐎𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐒𝐇, 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍!❞

SUMMARY. "oh my gosh, you're literally my dream person!" here's a list of red flags for you, honey. (inspired by a tiktok trend! the one with the soundboard, iykyk.)

CHARACTERS. wanderer, alhaitham, albedo, childe + GN!reader.

GENRE. full-on crack, some fluff, not-so serious and light-hearted character slander.

CW. has heavy refs to albedo's story / 2.3 event and wanderer's story, brief mentions of blood in childe's part (not detailed/graphic), one brief mention of kissing in wanderer's part, light cussing and terrible humor. + read the alt text on the headers for extra captions, hehe!

THOUGHTS. this is my most unserious work yet and for that, i apologize if this gets too unhinged or inaccurate at some point LMAOOO. red flags are fine, red is my fav color anyway (it's actually light purple) <33 can you guess who's the favorite here 🧍‍♂️

✰ masterlist.

[ WANDERER ]

❝Dream person, huh? That's oddly fitting because the day you win me over is only gonna happen in your dreams too.❞

Has some abandonment and mother issues. ...Yeah. These issues may result in emotional walls as strong and firm as the Great Wall of China but when you break through them, he's never ever gonna let you go (unfortunately). I'd tell you to start running but this silly guy can float and zoom in the air, so best of luck.

You'll only hear crickets if you fall asleep on his chest. On the very rare occasions where he allows you to, that is. If you're into that romantic "falling asleep on your lover's chest while listening to their heartbeat" stuff, you're not getting it with Wanderer here. But if you listen hard enough, maybe you'll get to hear termites or something because he's canonically made out of white wood. (I'm joking, I love him too.)

Terrible with feelings. He'd rather jump off a cliff than start talking about his feelings. ...Okay, fine. Harboring humane emotions is an annoyingly blurry line that he has vowed to stop caring about after regaining his memories. It doesn't mean he doesn't cringe at himself every now and then, though — knowing that he has talked about his feelings to someone else (only you and Nahida) keeps him up at night, as embarrassing as it is to admit. ("Hey, do you remember that one time when you told me—" "I don't.")

May prioritize his pride over you sometimes. Let's take a rainy day as an example. It's pouring cats and dogs which means that the risk of catching a cold is high as ever... thus, as the rain begins to soak you, you turn to your companion (whose clothes are saved by the hat on his head) with puppy eyes. His reply comes in the same speed as a lightning strike; "No," he says. Beg and cry if you want, he is not letting you under his hat because it's "not a damn parasol". Fine, maybe he just doesn't care about your well-being and that's totally fine (sarcastic) — but the very next second, as he grabs your wrist and starts dashing to a nearby inn with you in tow — you can't help but let a small smile slip. Maybe he does care? Pride just gets in the way sometimes.

Might accidentally suffocate you when you two kiss because how the heck is he supposed to remember that humans need to breathe when your lips are just so soft for no reason? Ugh, humans and their ridiculous needs (derogatory but he still loves you simp).

Has a long list of crimes and felonies that we don't talk about. Ah, yes, the courtesy of being a previous Fatui Harbinger, indeed. Irminsul may have forgotten about this list, but the Wiki sure as heck hasn't.

[ ALHAITHAM ]

❝So, you consider me someone who fits your type? I see. Unfortunately, knowing whether or not I fit into another person's ideals doesn't have much value to me.❞

Books > people. Is that really a flaw? He doesn't think it is. Books are a source of knowledge and aren't they supplements that enrich the minds of those who read them? Not to mention, there is no need to cater to whatever social standards with inanimate objects unlike when you're around people. ...But apparently, Kaveh told him that this mindset "makes him look like an absolute loner with no social skills and no friends whatsoever" to which he'd usually bite back with an "at least, I have a stable housing." TLDR: books are Alhaitham's closest friends and that's a little sad (he doesn't care about other people's opinions, though).

Unreachable when his soundproof headphones are on. Shush, he is in his official (but not-so-official) 'Do Not Disturb' mode. Sorry in advance, he may or may not accidentally ignore you when his soundproof headphones are on. If you want to have a few words with him, either be patient and wait or make sure they're of absolute importance lest you risk being given the deadliest, emptiest stare ever known to mankind. If looks could kill, you would've keeled on the spot. Instant unintentional (??) homicide, so true of him.

Awkward with small talks. Alhaitham is good at talking about topics that really matter and he very much prefers it that way too. But that's the thing; when the discussion of that particular subject ends, that's it. He often dodges the silence in a 'cool' way, though; either by taking an early leave or bringing out a book if the situation there still needs him present. (In his defense, if no one wants to start and carry the conversation, then isn't it a bit hypocritical to count on him to do that too?)

Physical affection stupefies him (it'll take time). Alhaitham doesn't hate it, no, but something about it just doesn't align much with his sense of familiarity. He usually keeps his distance; even with new acquaintances, shaking hands has never been his thing and it's been a long time since Alhaitham has had someone he feels comfortable enough to receive physical affection from or to give some of it to (his grandmother was the last, maybe). By all means, this isn't meant to be a sob story — it's just brought up to explain that physical affection is a thing he's not familiar with, so it'll take some time to get used to. Good luck to those with physical touch as a preferred love language (me), this feeble scholar who may turn into a stiff log when you hug him is in your capable hands!

[ ALBEDO ]

❝Is that a compliment of some kind? I must say it's certainly not one I hear very often, thus I feel inclined to appreciate it all the more. Thank you.❞

Has a lab located in Dragonspine. Yes, this is a red flag because look me in the eyes and tell me you would realistically travel up that death trap of a mountain every single time just to spend time with him. He comes down from the mountain at least twice or thrice a month, so you'll still get to see his pretty face regardless, just not as frequently — so, it's either you exchange letters every week or you go trekking up Dragonspine to see him yourself. (There is a better place to die on than that wretched mountain, but I digress.)

His mother caused world destruction and he has a twin brother that is out for blood (Imposterbedo). ...Seriously, what the heck is going on in this family? We need to keep an eye on them like they're fascinating wild animals on National Geographic, for real. If you don't mind crazy in-laws that might commit felonies against you (also looking intently at Alice as I say this, by the way), then you're all good to go! Aha, just watch your back and be safe out there, comrade.

Babysitting Klee comes as a 2-in-1. If you're good with kids, great! If you're not, good luck! You know what they all say; a child's curiosity is only limited by the skies (and a guardian's supervision), so be prepared for when Klee starts tugging you around to go fish blasting or exploring with her. Being with Albedo means you get to see her a lot and she's such an adorable ball of sunshine! But the way she innocently hands you a little bomb like it's a slice of Fisherman's Toast and not a weapon is certainly something to remember, huh? (At this point, this is basically an extra to my previous point about questionable in-laws.)

Eats spiders (not often, but has eaten them and that's concerning). Granted this only applies to a specific type of large spiders that can be found at the roots of Petrified Trees in Domains (in the words of the Chief Alchemist himself), but there will definitely be a time where he goes: "Are you hungry? If I remember correctly, there are still some smoked spiders left from the other day. Fortunately, the temperature here in Dragonspine aids in the preservation method—" Spiders can be cute to some and a nightmare to some, but the fact that he has a whole recipe for it really makes you want to know the how and most importantly, the why. Does he sprinkle parsley on them or some stuff like that, ayo? (at least, if you ever get stuck in a domain one unlucky day, this recipe might help you survive? thanks??)

[ CHILDE ]

❝Oh? I've never been called a dream person before. ...Heh, that sounds new, I like the sound of that!❞

Thinks combat and battles are a better substitute for oxygen. Okay, that may be somewhat of an exaggeration — but it isn't an understatement to say that the thought of challenge rushes the blood into Tartaglia's veins. Not one for the secretive schemes most Harbingers do, this man would even go charging ahead if that guarantees he'll encounter a good fight. Like seriously, if he and a fellow Harbinger are heading to a place where there is a good opponent, you bet Childe is about to speed there first. You could say he is speeding towards uncertain death, essentially.

Might have come home with blood on his cheek once or twice. And what's worse is that this guy probably doesn't even realize it's there. Sorry, he was just too caught up in the moment to properly notice any leftover 'trophies' from his previous fights... Aha, don't worry about it! ("I'm home!" Tartaglia cheers loudly as he, quite literally, throws open the front door to your shared home — only to be greeted by that dumbfounded look on face. "Please tell me that's just juice on your cheek," you frown. He scratches the side of his neck awkwardly, "Uhh. Things didn't go particularly well when I was collecting debts.")

A warrior in the streets, also a malewife who can make you treats. Why does he have that double side for, huh? For other people to swoon over and fall for? No way someone can be a househusband and a good fighter simultaneously. What do you mean he can cook and clean then beat up anyone who threatened you the next? And you're saying he is genuine about it too? I say deception, deception, deception! Sue this fellow for fraud this instant. (This might actually be a green flag in disguise, but you didn't hear that from me.)

No good with saving money. He's stinky rich and most of it might be from the Fatui. You have to wonder whether each Mora he gives goes on the Fatui's tab or something like that... You don't find the idea of owing something to the Fatui fun, but it's so ironic how you're more worried about this than the Eleventh Harbinger is. Welp, at least, you don't have to worry incessantly about saving money now...? ("There's that thing you said you wanted to buy the other day, right? Here you go, honey!" "Tartaglia, why is this Mora pouch heavier than a toddler—")

Has a long list of crimes and felonies that we don't talk about #2. You could definitely argue that Childe might have the least mind-boggling list of crimes amongst the Harbingers all, though. (And does he slay for that? Who knows.)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

© SEELESTIA, mar 2023. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

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[demonslayedher]

Today I went to the Zenshuuchuu-ten (Total Concentration Exhibition) for the Swordsmith Village and Hashira Training arcs today!

This is basically a chance for Ufotable to be like, "remember that cool thing we did?" and for we the fans to be like, "yup, sure do, that's why we're here."

It's not quite as extensive as other KnY events I've been to, and it doesn't particularly provide any new information, but it's fun to see some glimpses of the process from animation cells to finished clips. There's always a handful of fun displays to interact with, scrolls of character designs, and nice panels to display screenshots, especially centered around character arcs and impactful moments.

This time it was roughly as follows:

1. A room with large screen shots of Muzan the Upper Moons that appear in time with lines from the show and twangs of a biwa

2. A small room with a small swordsmithing game that they hurry everyone through. You need to strike the sword with just the right amount of force to get a ball into the middle of three slots, which I did, so I got handed a little piece of paper which is my certification as a master. I mentioned this to a friend afterword and her response was "of course you did."

3. A room in two parts dedicated to Muichiro's arc in SSV, with a hazy curtain you pass through sort of like Muichiro gaining his memories, and a model of his sword backlit in turquoise

4. A room dedicated to Mitsuri's arc in SSV, including a model of her sword which curves all the way across the room, and a little Mitsuri whom you could challenge to arm wrestling. She beat me pretty easily.

5. A Genya room of screenshots, and models of both his short little sword and his gun. Forgot to mention that their lines were playing overheard in each room!

6. A Gyokko and Hantengu room. A Gyokko only appeared over a model of the vase if you took a photo with flash, and there was a little Hantengu figure to look for, and if you found it, they'd give you a piece of origami paper on your way out of the gallery (pretty much everybody found it, but it was tiny).

8. The dedicated to Nezuko's mastery was not in-your-face triumph, but instead had a TV screen playing the Nezuko tribute music video version of her song, with the lyrics as scattered across the grey walls as the stream-of-consciousness lyrics.

9. Right after that, the staff ushers you in to the Hashira meeting, as though you were late.

Next to the meeting taking place, there is a model of Tanjiro's new old sword.

8. After that is a room dedicated to Giyuu's back story. I liked the design of the hanging screenshots in this one. Although the overall image is "water" because of the blue, the water design with light cast on the floor, and water droplet sounds mixed in with Giyuu's lines, the half-and-half effect was perhaps not intentional, but it was there. When you turn back to look through this room, the hanging screenshots--memories of Sabito and Tsutako--are all black.

9. The rest is a room dedicated to the different stages of Hashira training, with 3-D displays like riceballs, paper airplanes, pancakes with honeycomb and a ribbon, a board with ropes and sword cut marks (yikes), scuffed wooden swords, and a boulder you could push on. Along the tops of these displays were some eyeballs scoping everything out...

10. After that they put you in a theater room with three wide screens and headphones. At the last Zenshuuchuuten they did a reedit of the Akaza and Rengoku fight across three screens, so I figured this would have has plunging into the Infinity Fortress. After a preview review of Hashira Training highlights and Muzan's walk, yup, sure enough things got explosive and they plunged us in via the big screen, including some extra disorientation by zooming really closely in on some moving shots, or having multiple things happen at once across the screens.

11. Then they funnel you into a place with a TV playing the announcement for the Infinity Castle movies. No new content or news.

12. After that, these things tend to have a bright and happy Kimetsu Academy room! You could take photos, but there was a chalkboard with the voice actors have let their signatures and messages for the fans. I appreciated how they seemed to reflect their characters in their comments and handwriting, to some extent (certainly not Matsuoka (Inosuke) or none of it would be legible, but Hayami (Shinobu) has very legible, handwriting, and Hanae (Tanjiro) has comments like "I hope you'll feel like GUWAAA and GAAAAA!"). You could not take photos of the signatures, but you could take a photo of Mitsuri's art and figment of her imagination who says disparaging things to her (despite how she wants her art to make the world happy?? Oh, the irony):

13. The gallery concludes with a hall eyecatch illustrations, and a hall of Ufotable staff art paying homage to their favorite characters and scenes. Always treat seeing things in Ufotable style, but with individual craft and taste!

14. After that, you buy things. This is where they get ya.

Kind of thankfully, it's late enough in the exhibition's run that they've already run out of a lot of the smaller items I was intrigued by, so I behaved myself. I got the t-shirts I was planning on (I love the simplicity of them so so much, and really had to resist getting the paper airplane one too), a Daki ribbon item leftover from the last exhibition (though what I really wanted was Daki shoelaces), and an official pamphlet of the event. My friend got a couple Osaka-only badges,but since she got doubles of Zenitsuup the Umeda Sky Building, she gave one to me.

I really love that "nanikore" ("what the...?") design. It's so simple, and if you don’t know KnY, you might think they're just silly little circus dudes. But people who know will be like, "!!!" and their day will be a little brighter for having seen it.

Gonna do a quick self-reblog now with some extra photos!

[sunny44]

Marriage (Part 5)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex fiancée!reader Mason Mount x Fiancée!reader

Warnings: discussions

Summary: Max leaves his fiancée y/n at the altar on their wedding day but after years of regretting what he did, by a miracle of fate (or Lando) she appears in his life again.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The next morning, Mason and I woke up to the excitement outside our hotel window. The Formula 1 race day had arrived, and despite the lingering tension from the day before, there was an atmosphere of anticipation.

As we headed to the racetrack, a mix of emotions overwhelmed me. Memories of my past with Max and the recent revelation to Mason weighed on me. However, Mason's reassuring presence beside me provided a sense of comfort.

The atmosphere on the track was electrifying, with the roar of engines and cheers from enthusiastic fans. Mason's enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself caught up in the excitement of the event. We settled into our seats inside the Red Bull garage, ready to witness the thrilling race.

As the cars zoomed around the track, I tried to focus on the present moment and enjoy the experience with Mason. Despite the challenges and the unexpected encounter with Max, being there with Mason felt right.

Mason and I hadn't discussed the matter further, and perhaps when we return home, it will come up. I'm unsure about the possible questions he might ask and how I'll respond.

After the race, we joined the celebrations in the paddock. Mason's smile was infectious, and I couldn't help but thank him for making this weekend special for both of us.

In the midst of the jubilant atmosphere, Max approached us.

"Hi, what did you think of the race?"

"Good," Mason replied without much enthusiasm.

"I'm glad I could put on a show for you to watch," Max said, not understanding why Mason seemed distant.

"I know how much you like to put on a show."

"Mase," I called him, squeezing his hand lightly.

"I don't get it," Max said, confused.

"I don't know if I want to punch you for hurting her or thank you for doing it, or else I wouldn't have met the best person in the world," Mason said. Max realized he was talking about us.

"I didn't know you knew."

"That doesn't matter, but you're a complete idiot."

"I already know that, don't need you to remind me," he said, and I heard the bitterness in his voice. "I'm sorry for causing any discomfort. Didn't mean to ruin your weekend," Max said, looking directly at me.

Sensing the tension, Mason took a step forward, putting a protective arm around me.

"Let's focus on the celebration, Max. We're here to enjoy your victory." Max nodded, acknowledging the unspoken boundaries.

"Congratulations on the engagement," he added before stepping away.

“Why did you do that?” I say, letting go of his hand.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why confront him?”

“Are you defending him? After everything he put you through?”

“I'm not defending him, but I don't need more eyes on me because of this story, and then you decide to confront him about it in the middle of the paddock? Where everyone knows who he is.” I say angrily, and Mason tries to come closer, but I move away. “I just can't believe you did something that could have exposed a part of my life that I didn't want to happen.”

"Love, I..." I just shake my head and start walking alone to another place.

I found a corner between two garages where almost no one passed, and I sat there. I hadn't realized I was crying until someone sat next to me and hugged me.

"I was almost sure I saw you, but I thought maybe I was hallucinating." I looked to the side and saw Lando sitting there.

"Hi." He smiles slightly.

"Why are you here alone? Mason was looking for you."

"I just needed a few minutes alone."

"What happened?"

"Mason and Max." He sighs. "It's just that everything is too complicated."

"How so?"

"Mason found out about Max and me, and when Max came to talk to us today after the race, Mason lost his temper and started saying some things to Max." I sighed. "He wasn't wrong, but he made a scene in front of many people, and I already have a lot of eyes on me for being his fiancée, and I don't need more people judging me for what happened between me and Max since it's not something many people know."

"I'm so sorry," he says, pulling me into a hug. "Do you want me to do something?"

"No, but thank you for being here." I feel him leave a kiss on my forehead, and after a few minutes, he has to leave.

I stayed there a little longer and sent a message to Mason saying that I was fine and that we would meet at the hotel.

Bonus scene!

Masonmount instagram stories

“F1 Sunday with my lover” tagged: Yourusername

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[starsreminisce]

I think I've pinpointed my issue with ACOWAR; the books essentially foreshadow the stories of Elain and Nesta when their book comes back into play to expand on what we were told would happen.

In WAR, Nesta shows that she feels more at home in the HoW and the NC. She takes a stand when she feels like she can help people, foreshadowing her powers with her finger point. She’s comfortable in Illyrian leathers, showing she fits in more. Moreover, Cassian constantly badgers her to train, and we see glimpses of the inevitability of their bond snapping into place.

It’s funny how e/riels like to quote and use WAR to justify their ship as endgame. However, if one were to zoom out of that lens, it shows just how drawn Elain is towards Lucien. Lucien knows when to push to fight for Elain and when to pull back to empower her to do more, and, more importantly, what the mating bond means for them both.

I am sorry to say, but Azriel is going to play a version of Graysen for Elain in her book or, at the very least, he’s going to be lumped in as a final straw for Elain to process just how differently she is being treated by males other than her mate, especially when she is not being heard or when her wants are being dismissed.

Elain is also going to realize just how differently Lucien treats her and realize just how much she's drawn to Lucien. Considering all the moments where we see Elain with Lucien, we see her attention towards him in subtle ways: The meeting at the library, the half-step towards him, saying his name when he's being disrespected by other people, asking if he was alright as he ran across the battlefield towards her, peering at his face, and the push from Feyre that prompted Elain to ask him to come live in Velaris.

Lucien, too, we saw him advocate for her while she is not in the room. The only reason why Elain got better was because Lucien pushed for her to get outside, while slipping into heir markers, and the reason why they won the war was because Lucien believed in her vision to find Vassa. When Lucien said that he is not needed here to find Vassa, we get moments of Elain being able to do more. We see her learning a new skill, using her powers to find the Suriel, kicking off the hound, and wanting to plant more gardens.

The consistency and depth of Elain and Lucien's interactions in WAR lay a sturdy foundation for their relationship's credibility. Elain's emotional responses and Lucien's actions on her behalf bolster the authenticity and depth of their connection. These pivotal moments serve to anchor the Elucien ship in the narrative.

Every interaction between Elain and Lucien is charged with understanding, tension, and mutual longing. Their dynamic mirrors SJM's narrative approach of challenging destined pairs, ensuring their journey is fraught with obstacles. Through these trials, they are compelled to confront their bond together. And after the events of ACOSF, their union feels not only inevitable but earned, solidifying their place as a compelling and deeply intertwined pairing within the series.

[felassan]

Some DA facts collected together, from recent tweets -

GhilDirthalen: "the frostbite engine didn’t do ending slides, so the slides you see in DAI are actually paintings that quickly spawn in your bed room. You can zoom out during the end with fly cam" John Epler: "i remember when we were trying to do these and we're like 'hey can we display still images' and the answer was 'uhh it's a lot more complicated than you think' so this was the solution. i set up all the cameras, and I THINK level design handled all the scripting logic" JE: "anyways videogames are basically held together by magic and hope and it's a legitimate miracle anytime one gets finished"

JE: "When you 'sprint' on a horse in DAI it doesn't really do much because frostbite couldn't stream in levels fast enough, so we just added speed lines and changed the camera so it felt faster. JE: "i've carried the guilt of this for years. guilt is an ocean, and i'm tired of drowning." "feels like I just murdered Santa Claus in front of many of you" [source], "feels like i just declassified Area 51" [source]. "i'm just glad the truth is finally out there" [source] Seb Hanlon: "ME1 did it first" JE: "just to be SUPER clear, riding a horse is faster than being on-foot, but the difference between normal horse run and horse 'sprint' is non-existent except for making it look faster". "the base horse speed is faster than unhorsed run speed, but horse sprint doesn’t move you faster than normal horse speed" [source] JE: "there were three days on that project where my entire job was ‘try to make horse sprint feel faster’" User: "I swear to god John I knew it, I fucking knew it, none of the mounts have different speeds, either?" JE: "i actually don't know the answer to that one, i just set up the gameplay cameras and did what what i was told." Seb: "but they have different sounds /screams in Red Hart" JE: "no one believed that's what a Red Hart really sounds like but they are fucked up animals."

Seb: "The save system in DAI loads with all doors in the area closed. This is a problem if there’s a door between you and a party member when the save happens, because they can’t open doors. If they can’t path to you, they get teleported to join you before the fade-up from black." Seb: "This “system” was rigged entirely in Frostbite Schematic logic quite late in development once we realized it was a problem." JE: "i vaguely remember that the first time we really saw this problem was when we were putting together the Redcliffe demo for... whatever event we showed Redcliffe at." Seb: "Yeah I think that was the map I tested the teleport-fallback in. Dorian was there in those saves for sure?" JE: "yeah 100%. it was when you first end up in the future and you're fighting your way to the locked-up followers. i think we were playing it in Hanged Man or Neverwinter and we discovered 'oh shit our followers can't get to you'"

Seb: "Zither’s first-pass ability icons originally echoed a broad swath of iconic album art. The UI art team made me so happy. Why didn’t it ship? Ain’t nobody chasing down those IP clearances for an April Fools DLC."

JE: "in DA2 Mark of the Assassin, if you let Baron Arlange live after the first encounter with him, he shows up very deep in the background of several scenes, creeping on Hawke and the party around stalagmites and around corners." "no one asked for this but i put it in as a little treat because i thought it was very funny. i still do. oh the scene where you get captured in the vault by Prosper and his guards, that's the same 5 (6?) guards just cycled through multiple times." [source, two]

JE: "i've told this story before but the reason Iron Bull's romance scene takes place in a separate tower is because the mocap for everyone walking in on you assumed that there was a doorway, and the player's bedroom ended up having stairs. so we moved the scene to the Sex Tower"

Seb: "DAI: To enable party followers’ AI to use their defensive abilities (dodge/block/parries), enemies spawn a “telegraph volume” as part of their ability wind-ups. This tells the party AI what kind of reaction it can use to counter (if it’s not on cooldown and it can branch in time)." "“Parry” telegraphs are the ‘weakest’ (can activate block, dodge, or parry abilities); “dodge” telegraphs are the ‘strongest’ (dodge or get fucked). There’s an all-abilities AI cooldown on these responses; before this was added, I saw Cass perfect block for minutes at a time." [source]

Seb: "the Qunari Ashaad in Trespasser is the only combat creature I personally implemented; and the only one intentionally plays both ranged and melee. and it was great fun watching play-testers climb a ladder to close and shut down his range attack—and get kicked off by the sweep"

Seb: "I’m still personally pleased that the Red Templar faction in DAI has such a strong overarching principle: “power corrupts”. The more elite the creature, the less human they are."

Seb: "Both the Children in DAO Awakening and the Harvester in DAO hide their extra body parts *inside* their torso mesh before they appear."

Seb: "Varric in DA2 is the most specialest snowflake; he’s not like any other dwarf because his rig includes all the Bianca animation bones."

Seb: "DAI’s Emerald Graves was the map where we hammered out the conceptual balance of using abilities based on the enemy composition and position."

Seb: "There’s an animation-driven movement mode in DAI that’s only used by a handful of large creatures; the dragon and the Red Templar Behemoth are the ones I remember."

Seb: "“making two combat creatures at melee range face, and not slide past, each other when they’re playing attack animations” took a surprising amount of problem solving on DAI; most of the basic-attack animations have both moving and standing variations for this reason."

Seb: "30 seconds of good combat gameplay takes more-or-less the same development effort as 10 minutes of good combat gameplay. Which is more than you’d think. IYKYK."

Seb: "The original concept for the Grand Fear Demon at the end of DAI’s Fade was a “level boss” - instead of a single big combat creature (like a dragon), the idea was it was so big it would attack out of the darkness with “limbs” (creatures) that shared a health pool. Cut for scope."

Seb: "The core combat ability animation/effects/branching system in DAI is called “CSM”, for “combat state machine”. It’s the third generation spiritual successor to the first system called CSM that I worked on, built for a project called Revolver…"

Seb: "The “impassable” purple fire zones in Trespasser were a tremendous pain in the ass, because both: - making them do enough damage fast enough to be a lock-and-key for invincibility powers as intended - keeping party members from following you in and getting bug-zappered" User: "I hate to tell you this but my first time through, I was determined to get through and I did not know that invincibility powers were literally down the stairs so I spent 10 minutes and eventually managed to get through with some mage shenanigans" Seb: "by the time we got to trespasser there were so many abilities you MIGHT have that MIGHT JUST get you through that we gave it our best shot and said “good enough”" User: "I died at that thing SO MANY TIMES until I realized there was an invincibility boost, lol" Seb: "clearly signaling “THIS IS A THING YOU WILL DO LATER” without saying it, especially if it’s a mechanical systems thing, can be surprisingly difficult"

Seb: "during development on DAI someone made a staff that, when used (hit the ground with the butt animation) spawned a bunch of nugs that ran off in all directions. for checking pathmesh bounds, obvs"