#is this how french people feel all the time

[baambied]

𝒀𝑶𝑼'𝑹𝑬 𝑵𝑶 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑴𝑬, 𝑩𝑼𝑻 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 𝑰 𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻 𝒀𝑶𝑼. . . .

𝑽𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 / 𝑹𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑲𝑨

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔/𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔

cw nsfw blood gore manipulation death/killing headcannon with plot blood sucking/eating vulgar language drunk man bothers reader possessive!sevika hot makeout session finger sucking tension yearning

here....sevika is loosley inspired by 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒆 𝑳𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕

vampire/rockstar!sevika ✗ human!femreader

m.list

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who had achieved immortality in the early 1700s, at the age of 34 in france . . . the person who made her happen to have the most ancient blood known to all vampires, that blood now in her making her stronger, faster, more advanced than any other vampire.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who . . even though being alive for 100s of years, moving from city to city, she still has that french accent laced in her voice, making her even more captivating to humans other than her appearance.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who slowly discovers how she is capable of more other than advanced strength and fast speed. . . learning how mortals were below her kind, learning how much power she had over the human mind. . if sevika wanted to, she could compel a whole group of humans and use them as mindless puppets.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who learned how to control her thirst around humans, which is something lots of vampires have a hard time doing, took her years to accomplish this.. but she can't lie. . she'd slip up sometimes .. draining the blood of tons of humans in her pastime.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who went on a killing rampage in the 1700s after she was turned, letting out any anger, disgust,disbelief she held against herself for her new life, draining almost any human in sight mainly targeting ones who evil, who have done evil things.

acting on impulse and personal desire for blood. In her early vampire nature, she saw these acts as a thrill, viewing it as a natural part of her existence of a vampire.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who doesn't have a coven and prefers to wander, moving from place to place, meeting new and different people, learning new languages.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who always had a passion for music, i mean, she watched how music drastically changed over time. . . how it became more improved. it fascinated her how something so beautiful could get even better...sure she loved the jazz era in the later 1900s, but she also loved the new era sounds too.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who learned how to play every instrument in the book during her 100 years of walking on this earth

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who is now living in the 1990s. .a drummer in a popular rock band.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who loves the feeling of being on stage, the feeling of the stage lights beaming on her cold skin, hearing the cheers from the crowds - the women cheering, women who happens to have the hots for the buff, muscular, pretty looking drummer. . .screaming her name 'sevika! sevika!' like a prayer out of a bible. . . she needed this no - .. she yearned for this.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who sometimes invited women backstage to her dressing room - calling them her personal groupies , she'd get the talking, but she never paid attention to their words or how much they loved her when in reality sevika knew they just wanted her to fuck them - not that she minded.

but she'd mainly paid attention to the thumping in their chest, their veins pulsing underneath the soft skin...she used her words...manipulate them...almost like mind control, get them thinking this whole situation wasn't real, was just a figment of their imagination- maybe even a dream before piercing her sharp fangs into the side of their neck, letting the thick blood hit her throat.

she doesn't kill them, just drinks enough to satisfy her thirst, then stopping before their heart stops beating, the women would wake up in the comfort of their own homes the next day, light-headed with no memory of last night in their brain...just the throbbing sting on the side of their neck.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who nearly loses her self-restraint on stage just by smelling your sweet scent of blood in the crowd, her silver sharp eyes immediately finding your beaming doe brown ones in the crowd of people, her eyes almost staring through you, watching your veins pulse under your skin, watching the sweat roll down your neck, hearing your fast heart thumping in your chest as your adrenaline was high by the atmosphere of the concert...

if it weren't for you suddenly going to the bathroom, she would have drained you right there in the crowd in front of all these human eyes.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - accidently slips up and sucks a stage manager dry the same night, just so she can soothe the ache in her throat.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who thinks she doesn't have to see you anymore after the night - smell you anymore. . . . but oh boy, she was wrong.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who is shocked when you end up being the groups new stylist, with hair and clothing.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who won't let you touch or dress her - or even fix her hair and clothes even though you're supposed to, and that's what you were hired to do. .

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who ignores you for the first 4 weeks - staying away from you like you were the plague that could get her sick within seconds.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who finally gets used to your sickly sweet scent enough to actually let you fix her clothes and hair.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who notices how you just couldn't keep your eyes on her glistening chest that was shown due to a few of her buttons being undone on her shirt, you're eyes even widened at the imprint of nipple piercings from under her shirt where her breast were covered - to this sevika can't help but smirk at your wandering eyes.

at this moment, you were currently fixing sevika's belts that had gone loose. . . the belt wasn't meant to hold up her pants but was there for the style instead, silver chains hanging from them so anytime she moved your hear, her dark red button up that was once closed now opened showing the middle of her chest.

even though she was sweating, it didn't look like she was out of breath. . . you noticed this, but just thought she may have good cardio or something.

but. .you couldn't help but stare at her chest, your breath catching in your throat as you saw the imprint of what seemed to be piercings on her nipples, you couldn't help but wonder how they looked without being covered.

"see something you like? mon chèrie.." you felt as if your heart leaped out your chest at her voice, her deep voice - husky tone with a french accent laced in it, that itself had you captivated by her. . you've heard she was from france, yet you've never heard her talk. . . . and my god it was so attractive.

"i - i no. . . I'm fine.." you respond with a flustered look on your face, looking up you could feel your knees buckle seeing as she was staring at you, her sharp gray eyes gazing at you causing an almost chilling ambience that made you shiver.

sevika then looked away, a huge smirk on her face as if she had just heard something that she wasn't exactly supposed to, her teeth showing as she smiled, making you catch her long canine teeth.

"une créature tellement intéressante. . ." the immortal mumbled before walking away, you stood in the same spot, confusion drenched on your face as you didn't understand her sentence - yet it still left a strange warm feeling in your stomach, a feeling that didn't feel quite comfortable, a feeling that felt good but dangerous to have at the same time.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who finds herself indulged in a conversation with you, and during this, you can't help but realize how intriguing this woman is. . .how her sentences seemed so perfect, almost as if they were rehearsed, how she tends to speak as if she is from a different timeline, anytime she'd say something in french it caused a spark in you. . . she was perfect. . .so perfect in your eyes. . so deniably perfect.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - sevika, who slowly grows more comfortable around you, yet still has to ignore the urge to sank her fangs down in your neck.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who starts to feel emotions in her vampire form that hasn't been felt since she was human, it makes her grimace in distaste at the thought, the thought of being with you. . . ruining you. . . people would call her the walking devil on earth, using human blood to quench her thirst, not being able to go outside due to sunlight. .

the night holding all her secrets , shame, and guilt . . . and loneliness and the certain bloodlust urges that couldn't been seen when the night grew into a bright daylight. she was a monster. she did monstrous things. . .she couldn't be with you, someone who was way too good for this planet, to kind for their own good. she couldn't ruin that....couldn't ruin you.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who just can not keep her feelings in check, so she starts ignoring you once more like she did when you first started working, like you were the plague of the next century.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who is walking home from a pub one night, darkness surrounding the night sky, only thing heard was the steps of her shoes hitting the pavement , when suddenly her ears caught the sound of yelling nearby. . . coming from an alleyway, she slowly walks to the ally, her silver eyes looking at the scene displayed in front of her , not supirsed when she finds a drunken man bothering a women she couldn't see the face of , a sight she has seen countless of times throughout her years, she could smell the bourbon seeping through the man's skin causing her to cringe, it was truly disgusting.

she rolled up her sleeves of her white button up and walked closer, the man not yet noticing her presence...before sevika could act, she caught a whiff of a very familiar scent. . a sweet so fucking alluring scent.

once sevika realized that the woman infront for her, is, in fact, you, for some unknown reason, this sends her into a frenzy - something about seeing you useless against your will by a drunken - disgusting pig of a man made her so damn furious.

it was like she suddenly snapped . . edged with anger, those human feelings that she had buried weeks ago creeping back into her head.

within seconds, she was like the wind behind the man roughly grabbing the back of his suit and pulling him away from you and in a flash the man's body was hitting the other side of the ally wall, bricks even breaking from the building at sevika's supernatural strength.

next thing she knows, her fangs are piercing the man's throat, the feeling of an intoxicated blood entering her system. She was repulsed by his taste, yet still so sickened by his actions.

she could hear your whimpering escaping your lips, staggered breathing as you tried to regain control over it, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest, eyes widened in terror at the sight of sevika's - the woman you once viewed as flawless and the epitome of perfect was now infront of you sucking the life out of the man who followed you from a bar nearby against your will.

you didn't know whether if you were paralyzed with fear. . .or shock. . .

driven by sheer terror , not knowing what might happen next - acting out on pure fear you found yourself running down the ally way, the muscles in your calves already tired from your paralyzed stance from before, you ran and didn't look back.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who expected to see you on the news the next day explaining how you saw "the devil itself drinking the blood and eating the flesh of a human" last night. . . but surprisingly, there was nothing of that sort. Instead, the man sevika drained dry and bought to the woods was found and told to die in a freak accident with some sort of wild animal. .

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who realizes you don't show up to work for 3 days straight , her silver eyes attempted to find yours like before in the crowd of mortals each time she performed those nights. . failing each time.

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who wouldn't be surprised if you fled town to escape her unnatural acts. . but boy, was she surprised to see you standing in her dressing room after a show, sevika acting adrenaline and impulse she immediately told the woman she had brought with her to go away .

𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 - who acts surprised when you confront her about what happened in that ally , you're absolutely baffled by her words. . . her pure lies of her twisting the narrative of the truth to fit her lie. . . she was lying through her teeth to you.

"please - i feel like my mind is spinning out of control i- i don't . . . know what i saw i-"

"you're right, you don't know what you saw. . . you're confused ma mie. ." sevika's voice spoke out lowly, a smooth whisper with something lingering behind it.

"b-but. . . you. .i saw you. ." you stumbled over your words, bottom lip shaking as you thought about the terrifying acts you saw that night, you weren't crazy. . . you know what you saw.

"shh shh shh. . ." sevika put a hand to her lips, mimicking a quiet action with her pointer finger that was covered in two chunky silver rings. . "mon amour please. . . you had drank alot among that night, my eyes caught you in an ally way grappling with a drunkard . . . i got him off you - saving you, that is all you need to remember." her deceptive demeanor hid her true intentions, the constant contradiction she put on you was overwhelming.

"no. . .the blood dripping down your chin, the - the look in your eyes. . the sounds" your sentence coming out in a broken whisper "you killed that man by - sucking his blood. . .I'm not crazy ... i was doubting everything - my own memories, but i know what i saw."

you were looking down, meaning you missed sevika's gaze darken at your words. . her eyes fiercely staring at you, burning through you like lava, piercing through your soul.

she had an alluring and almost hypnotic gaze.

"are you afraid." Were the only words spoken out by sevika, her sentence coming out like a demand for you to answer other than an actual question.

but. . .

were you?

as crazy it sounds, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders at her words. . . these three days you spent in your home, petrified, thinking what you saw was a figment of your own imagination, thinking you were going mad, thoughts racing so fast against eachother you couldn't even keep up.

the dressing room was filled with a heavy suffocating silence, almost eerie.

but also the tension between you and the immortal was growing thick, probably more thick than the silence around you. . .sevika leaned closer to you, her broad and buff figure towering over your shorter figure, you still hadn't looked up at her . . your height making your eyes only reach her chest, this only made sevika lean lower , her body moving forward causing you to slowly step back. . . . this process stopped when your back hit the wall of her dressing room.

she could hear your lips shakily pressing into a line, roughly gulping . . and she could practically feel the nervousness seeping out of your pours , almost as if your emotions were intact with one another, she could feel everything you were feeling in this moment.

this was new for her...

having someone else's emotions connect within her own. . .

you were unable to form a single sentence, the tension felt so thick it suffocated you like blanket, leaving you hot and sweaty.

if sevika had the pleasure of breathing again, her breath would definitely be caught in her throat when she finally saw you look up at her, she's seen many eyes before, many expressive ones filled with different colors. . but your beautiful big brown eyes catch her off guard, again something that does not happen to her often. . . she was almost bewildered at this feeling.

sevika head slowly leaned closer to you, gently resting her forehead on yours as he clenched her eyes tightly - she had never been this close to you before so the the sweet scent of your blood flowed in her nose more easily. . . the smell nearly making her go feral. .

you slightly gasped when you felt her drag her head in the crook of your neck, for second you think you hear a low animalistic guttural growl escape her throat, her nose sniffing you as if you were some sort of food for her dinner. . .

her hands reaching beside you on the wall, she was almost shaking. . . you were in such a vulnerable position, she could sink her teeth into your skin if she desired to. . . just thinking about that made her hands clench, which they did, into the hard - blue painted wall causing a loud crushing noise to enter your ears.

"i can still smell him on you. . .his vulgar stench" sevika growled , her voice was deeper, smooth, and almost seductive, making you close your eyes, parting your mouth, letting out a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding in..

"do you know what i am. . ."

all of the nervousness , fear that was once in your body, was now replaced with the sudden urge of desire for this women infront of you - this immortal, you knew what she was you've heard of the myths, legends of blood drinking demons that preyed among humans. . .

yet you weren't scared of her, if she wanted to hurt you - even kill you . . she would have by now.

"Do i not scare you, mon chèrie. . ."

"no. ." your words came out with no hesitation, you didn't even think before you replied.."you saved me. .that night. . ."

sevika grunted at your words, her eyes still clenched closed, she could feel the heat radiating off your body coming onto her's, she pulled her head from your neck, looking into you eyes once more.

sevika looked as though she was drunk off your scent, her lidded gray eyes staring at you as her lips pursed together, staring at you like she was trying to read through you. .

you two stayed like this for what it seemed like minutes, hours even? maybe. . . the hot tension piercing the air between you two waiting to be broken, waiting to be sliced.

and it soon was, before you knew it, the immortals lips smashed roughly into your soft ones. . .

the kiss was hot and rough, but you took it , accepted it - you've been wanting this. . . needing this ever since the day both your eyes connected when she was on stage. . .both your mouths moving with urgency against eachother, as if you both would disappear in any moment.

your hands growing confident as they now moved around sevika's muscular back. . .

the kiss became messier and slippery more uncoordinated, sevika grunted like an angry animal against your mouth, the crunching of the wall could be heard once more, taking her frustrations out on it - knowing that if she were to place her hands on her body she could possibly hurt you with her unnatural strength.

"move to the dresser. ." sevika's husky tone was undeniably alluring, almost like a captivating melody for your ears, she removes her hands from the wall, watching as you slowly walked to the dresser nearby, legs visibly shaking with each step, sevika smirked at the sight of this slowly following behind you. . her tounge swiping up against her pointy fang as her silver eyes watched your movement.

once you reached the dresser, you turned around, leaning your lower back on it slightly flinching when sevika was already in front of you, with a cocky smirk on her lips.

"tu es l'un des humains les plus intéressants que j'aie jamais vu pendant mes cent ans. ."

you frown once more as sevika's cold hand raises up to your jaw, softly caressing you. . your'e warm heat from your skin collaborating with her icy cold ones. . such an unfamiliar feeling to you..

"sevika. . i don't understand your words. ." you respond to her..softly.

"You don't need to understand, mon cœur. ." she replies, her voice was like velvet, smooth, husky and rich with a lingering whisper that sent chills through your body.

her finger once on your jaw, moving higher. .to your cheek. . her thumb than meeting your moist, swollen lips. . . sevika gaze eyed your mouth as she pushed in her thumb, seeing you accept it with no hesitation, her thumb in your warm , wet mouth pressing down gently as possible on your tongue.

you lean into her touch, letting her do whatever she pleases with you.

whatever she desired. .

her thumb swirling around your tongue, she almost looked entranced by this, captivated by you - even more when she could hear the small sounds that escaped your throat when you yourself weren't even aware of them. .

she slipped her thumb out your warm mouth, smiling slightly at the string of saliva that came with it, she than stuck the thumb inside her mouth, sucking it off before releasing it with a loud pop.

you flustered by the sudden action, looking down avoiding the eye contact she always gave you.

sevika leaning in to you, her hands resting on the sides of the dresser. .she moved her head on yours, trying to catch your flustered gaze, when she did your lips slowly connecting again. . instead of thie kiss starting off rough and sloppy like the first one, this one started sensual, slow as if sevika was now taking her time.

her tongue brushing against your bottom lips before she entered it inside your mouth, both your tongues entangling - fighting for dominance that sevika clearly won within seconds. . even though the kiss was softer it was still messy, you could feel you saliva running down you chin as you leaned into her more, nor knowing this movement caused your tongue to brush up against her sharp fangs, causing a small cut on your pink muscle. . . you didn't notice, but when that taste entered sevika's mouth her eyes went wide.

immediately breaking the heated kiss, she stood for a moment - finally tasting your blood. . . sweet. . it was so fucking sweet.

she swallowed roughly with scowl on her face, closing her eyes in an attempt to get rid of the thoughts of draining your pulsing body right here on her dresser.

"sevika. . did - did i do something wrong?" You ask embarrassed, fumbling over your words unsure what to do next as the woman suddenly just pulled away from you, you're body flinched at the crushing of wood beside you - sevika and squeezed the dresser so hard, the place where she rested her hands now crushed into pieces.

whe you go to look back uo at her - she's already out the door. . . in a swish moment, like the wind she slammed the door open and she was gone.

leaving you in her dressing room, on her dresser, with swollen lips she caused and with confusion engulfing your body as you also felt a tingling between your legs. .

[expectiations]

The Doctor does NOT and has NEVER loved River Song (And If You Think Otherwise, You Must Be Watching a Different Show)

Listen, folks. It’s time to face the facts. The Doctor has NEVER loved River Song. Not even a little bit. And I have 17 rock-solid, completely canonical, absolutely not contradictory reasons to prove it:

He only took her to Calderon Beta to show her the starriest night in the universe on her first night in space jail, which was also their honeymoon night. A night that is literally impossible to replicate with anyone else ever again. But no, not romantic. At. All. Just two people who happen to be married, spending a totally meaningless night under the stars.

He only stuck around for the mystery of her and once it was solved, he… checks notes …continued planning elaborate dates, risked his life for her, wrote her poetry, spent centuries in her company, and doing domestics with her. But yeah. Definitely just a phase.

He kept an entire diary to track their time together. But that’s normal, right? Just an intergalactic, timey-wimey version of a Google Calendar for the woman he definitely does not feel any sort of romance for.

He was willing to let all of time and space collapse just so they could have a linear married life. You know, because that’s what you do for a woman you have no strong romantic feelings for whatsoever.

He planned intricate dates just for her, dressed up for the occasion despite usually looking like a sentient pile of laundry, and bought her custom-tailored outfits so they could match. You know, just friendly little outings. Buddies. Chums. Mates.

Whenever she calls, he comes. No matter the situation, no matter how much danger he’s in, he drops everything and rushes to her side. He’s probably just really into checking his voicemail.

He wrote her love poetry. But, like, strictly in a platonic way. Just some totally neutral iambic pentameter for the fun of it.

Despite being universally known for his terrible time management, he is always perfectly on time for her. Which, of course, doesn’t mean anything. He just suddenly became a scheduling genius when she was around.

He keeps asking her to travel with him. Like, repeatedly. Like, he can’t take the hint that she has a life outside of running around in space. Almost like he wants her there. But that would be ridiculous.

The entire universe knows that the easiest way to lure the Doctor into a trap is to put River in danger. Because he will always come for her. But that’s not love. That’s just… reflexes.

He “only” took her to Darillium because he was lonely. And then, in an act of sheer, meaningless, absolutely not-love-driven desperation, he spent 24 years (and more) being domestic with her. Just hanging out. Not a big deal.

He built a whole planet just so they could have a little more time together. You know, because nothing says "total indifference" like terraforming an entire celestial body.

An entire archipelago, famously known as "The Lovers Dreaming Island", exists where the islands literally form the shape of their intertwined bodies. That’s just standard planet-building, really. All geography is accidental.

He physically defied the laws of the universe to hold onto her data ghost. The whole "ghosts can’t be touched" thing? He literally said, "Mmm, no thanks" then proceeded to french kiss her goodbye. But that’s really just the kind of farewell you give to someone you were forced to be with.

He keeps a spare TARDIS key inside a book called The Time Traveler’s Wife. No significance whatsoever. Probably just the only book lying around.

Her words gave him hope when nothing else could. Her voice became his mantra. But no, not love. Just, you know, some lady saying things.

But yeah, sure, he never loved her. The universe must be wrong. The Doctor must be wrong. The literal geography of an archipelago must be wrong. The foundations of time itself must be wrong. Or… maybe the Doctor is just the most emotionally repressed idiot in the cosmos, and we’ve all spent years watching a romantic tragedy disguised as sci-fi nonsense.

Final Conclusion: The Doctor absolutely, 100%, definitively does not love River Song. And if you believe that, I have a prime piece of real estate in the Medusa Cascade to sell you.

[whereisten]

French Maid

Summary: You feel a bit jealous after Johnny shows off his body at Paris Fashion Week. Are you really prepared to be the girlfriend of an idol as hot as he is? You're unsure. Johnny, however, reassures you that you're all his, surprising you with an interesting gift once he gets back.

Pairing: Idol!Johnny x female reader

Genre: smut, some angst in the beginning, fluff, comedy?

Warning: jealousy, cursing, stalking mention, smut: Johnny is a pervert in this, not irl! role play, dry humping, handcuff usage, sense play, fingering, oral sex, dirty talk, praise kink, penetration (unprotected sex), size kink, overstimulation, edging, rough sex (spanking), camera usage.

Work Count: 5.7K

(A/N: HAPPY JOHNNY DAYYYYY WOOOOO!! our shining star was born on this day 30 years ago omgggg im cry. I started this right after his appearance at Fashion Week last year when he wore that open jacket thing for Acne, and decided to finish it for his birthday! It's mostly smut (surprise!) but he is very loving as well. I hope you enjoy it!! ❤️)

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“And do you have to show your tiddies off every time?” You flail your arms about as you walk through your apartment.

Johnny just got home from his Paris fashion week trip. He stunned hundreds of thousands of people with his dashingly good looks that you’re all too familiar with. And while you are happy for him, you can’t help but feel jealous. You have to share your gorgeous man with the world every now and then and it stings.

Johnny simply laughs and places his bags down. “You know how it goes, my love, gotta give the people what they want.” He then hears a loud exhale from the kitchen.

“What about a nice decent suit? You know, the old Patrick Bateman look? And then you put that pen in your mouth like do you know how many germs were on that?” 

You close the fridge door and pour orange juice out for him to drink along with the breakfast you made for him.

He sighs and leans back slightly while sitting on the edge of his bed, the smell of bacon and pancakes fills his nose. “It smells amazing in here.”

“Well, yeah you can’t survive off of croissants and baguettes, so I prepared something for you before I head to work.”

His eyes open. Shit…work. He’s jet lagged out of his mind from this quick round trip, he forgot it’s a normal weekday for you. A work morning to be exact.

He gets up and heads to the table.

“Can you call off?” He runs a hand through his hair.

“No..unfortunately it’s my turn to show off my tiddies at work.” You sip your coffee and lean back in the dining chair so your cleavage pokes through your button down shirt.

Johnny raises a brow. “Ohh..so it’s like that, huh?”

You nod before smirking. “Yeah..”

He shrugs and bites into his pancake. “I won’t stop you, but I will ask if you’d like to help me take a shower before you go..” he rolls his neck and looks onto you with low eyes. “I’m just so jet lagged, you know?”

You scoff. “Get one of your googly-eyed superfans to do it, they’ve already seen most of your naked body.” You get up from the table and head to the bathroom to finish your makeup.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart!” Johnny chuckles. He seems to be pushing it too far with you lately, giving fans a glimpse into what you have the privilege to see at any time. He knows it makes you feel special, the truth is, you are. But just because fans see him like this every now and then doesn’t mean they can be his girlfriend. They’re not even close. You know this.

He knocks on the wall beside the bathroom door after finishing breakfast. 

“That was really good..thank you.”

“Eh.” You say while finishing your lipstick.

“You sure you don’t wanna spend some time with me today? I don’t have any schedules til tomorrow..I’m all yours.” He smiles and leans his head against the door as he takes in your beauty.

“No.”

He pouts. “Come on, sweetheart, you know I’m only yours, right?”

You put the lipstick down and turn to him. “Are you?”

He nods and steps closer, but you brush past him into the bedroom.

He sighs, taking his t-shirt off over his head as you put your shoes on.

“Check the suitcase before you leave.” He yells out over the sound of the shower running.

“Huh?!” You hesitate to grab your purse.

“You didn’t think I’d come back from the city of love empty handed, did you?”

You unzip his luggage and see a large white gift bag inside. A smile creeps across your face as all sorts of possibilities come into your mind. A new purse? A cute pair of shoes? A painting from the Louvre? Who knows!

But as your hands pull out what’s inside, your smile starts to fall slightly. The box is light, too light to have shoes or a purse inside. Not even a gown could fit in there.

The sparse and scanty pieces of clothing inside make your head tilt. “What the hell is this?” The shower is too loud for Johnny to hear you.

*clink*

Something drops out of the bundle.

Fluffy…handcuffs? 

“Oh.” Your eyes widen.

You start to arrange the pieces in a way you think makes sense and there it is. A slutty French maid outfit with a bustier and stockings to match. There are cat ears and a clip on tail that causes you to chuckle. But it’s strange because..it’s not in your size..it’s in his.

You can’t contain your laughter. You step back from the bag to clutch your stomach. Johnny had truly outdone himself this time.

A few minutes later he comes out of the bathroom with just his towel around his waist and his hair still wet. He doesn’t look around for you, figuring that you’re at work by now.

His head tilts when he sees the outfit laid out on the bed neatly. He laughs to himself. “And she still went to work..”

You clear your throat. “No I didn’t..I’m right here.”

Startled, he turns to see you standing in the bedroom doorway. You’re wearing your red lingerie set with the matching lace gown over it. And he silently goes crazy when he sees the red garter belts hugging your thighs tightly, making a mental note to remember to drag them off with his teeth later.

He swallows hard. “You called out..for me?”

You smile and nod. “Yeah..you’ve got some making up to do..work can wait.”

He blushes then rushes towards you with his arms out. “Babe..you look amazing.”

“As do you..” you look up at him over you now. You finally kiss him after holding back all this time, holding his warm face in your hands. He kisses you passionately, turning his head to swallow your tongue like waiting for what feels like centuries. You moan as your bottom lip meshes with his and your body becomes weak. He holds your ass tightly in his large hands.

As he pulls away for a short break, spit falls onto your chin. You push yourself up closer to him, wanting, no, needing more. Kissing was another talent the giant had, only you knew that. He lunges forward again, moaning against your lips before biting it suddenly. You whimper, your hands reach around his back and rest on his broad shoulders.

But you can’t forget what you really want. You pull back. 

His mouth falls open as he breathes heavily. “What’s wrong? Too hard? Too messy?” He's already doubting how good he makes you feel.

“No..no it was perfect, Johnny, you’re perfect..”

His eyes crinkle and he leans in again, but you back away.

“Put that on first..” you whisper while staring at his lips now red with your lipstick.

He nods. “Oh..you want me to do that..now?”

You look up with round, boba like eyes that you know he can’t resist. “Only if you aren’t too tired..”

He shakes his head. “I’m never too tired for you, baby.” 

He practically gallops towards the bed, but turns to you. “Can I get some privacy please? I’ll call for you when I’m ready.” He says with a sass you never imagined he could have.

You nod and close the door, then sit patiently in the living room. You’d never made love to man in a feminine cosplay before, but you were excited for some reason. A 6-foot something man is wearing a slutty costume just for you. Does it get any hotter than that?

A few minutes later you hear a knock. “Housekeeping!” Johnny calls out.

You laugh and walk in. The white and black dress hugs his waist perfectly over the bustier and his tail clings to his back side.

His toned thighs stick out from under the *very* short hem of the dress, barely being held together by his own lace garter belt. You never imagined he’d look amazing in stockings. But he’s Johnny, of course he’d look good.

He has a feather duster in hand. He pays close attention to the dust on your lamps and nightstand and you’re wondering if he’s taking the role play a little *too* seriously. 

Nonetheless, you play along too. “Excuse me…you missed a spot.”

Johnny nods and rushes to your side where you point to a spot on the dresser. He stares intently, moving the feathers over the spot. 

“Hmm lower..there’s another spot.”

He nods and bends down to see.

“I don’t see the spot, ma’am” he says innocently.

“Oh you’re really bad at this.” You chuckle then move to stand behind him.

You grab his waist and push onto his ass. “Lower..bend down.”

With one hand, you reach around his front side and under his skirt; just brushing over his tip.

“Oh!” He jumps at the feeling of your soft hand on him.

He stands up straight then turns around to you. “I got it.”

“Hmm I think it took you too long to get, why should I have to tell you how to do your job?”

Johnny smiles as you try to be intimidating. It’s cute, and he can’t stop his heart from racing. What’s your plan with him all dressed up like this? He’s not sure, but it feels good to not be the one in charge.

“I think it’s time you were reprimanded for your failures.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re..filling this out” you laugh out while looking at his double d’s pressed together in the black and shiny bustier.  

“Thank you, it’s a little uncomfortable , I can’t believe you guys do this every day.” He smiles widely, then lowers his face down towards yours. 

You step back. “No no..on the bed.”

He crawls onto the bed quickly, giving you a glimpse of his ass in the red thong that came with the costume. You turn your head and laugh, but quickly regain your seriousness.

You pluck a feather from the duster while humming to yourself. 

He lays down on his back, leaning on a few pillows as he watches you climb over him. 

“Safe word?” You ask him.

He nods. “Vanilla.”

You nod.

“Hmmm where should we start?” You say as his hands roam over your ass, pushing the hem of your night dress up slightly.

“I’ve been very bad..what will you do to me?” His honey brown eyes are wide and stare at you intensely, but they don’t hide the fact that he’s biting his rouge stained bottom lip and squeezing your ass. It’s like he’s begging to be punished.

You smirk back and grab the handcuffs.

“Well of course we’ll have to restrict your freedom first. Show me your hands.”

He lays his arms out towards you. You slap on one cuff, then lean over him so you can wrap the chain around a small section of the headboard. 

The second cuff locks around his wrist, keeping his arms above his head and attached to the headboard so you can get to work.

You sit back and smile at him. “There..much better.”

Just barely hidden behind the veil of your lace gown and lingerie is your gorgeous body above him, it’s his religion. He needs you like the Earth needs water.

“Damn..I wish I could touch you.”

“Only good boys get to do that.” You lean down and kiss him, hovering over his crotch, just high enough to not touch him yet.

“Hmm..” you lean forward and press your lips against his. As expected, he dives into you, exploring your tongue and lips like it’s the first time.

You widen your legs a bit more so your opening finally rests on his lace-covered dick. The thin fabric of your thong and his thong and skirt being the only things to separate your skin.

You move back and forth slowly while caressing his arms above his head.

He tugs against the cuffs, already begging for a little more friction between the two of you down there. He groans when he realizes he can’t get you to press down harder.

You pull away. “Tsk tsk so impatient, you said you’re all mine for the day right?”

“Yes, but give me a little more, please baby..I need you…ahhh..just..a little..lower.”

“You need me?” You pout, distracting him from the fact that you’re pulling his bustier down to reveal his nipples. You then dangle the feather above one and circle around it. 

“You’re so pretty with red lipstick, baby” you say to him.

“I think I should add some more..” you kiss and suck on his neck slowly while playing with the feather, coating his skin with hot, breathy whispers in between. “What do you need from me?”

He draws in a sharp breath, feeling the delicate feather dance around his sensitive nipples.

“I need you..need you so badly..”

His head falls back as he feels your soft lips place wet kisses along his body. 

“Be more specific..”

He pulls against his handcuffs and pants. “Your body..fuck me please..I need it.”

You grind down onto him harder, feeling his shaft hard as a rock against you.

He groans. “That feels good baby.”

“Does it?” You look up at his clenched jaw line. “Should I go lower?”

He nods. 

“But first…” you flick your tongue out on top of his nipple and around it, gaining a shaky breath. His head falls back. You lick and suck harder as you find his cock below you. You run your hand down his abs, applying just a bit of pressure then dip your hand into his thong, stroking him slowly, so slowly he groans and bites his bottom lip. The sensation of your warm mouth on his chest is different for him, but feels good.  

“Please..more, sweetheart..a little faster.” He bucks his hip up in an effort to push you to go faster. 

“I bet you wanna feel me around you..”

You can feel him twitch under you.

You lick your lips. “What if I don’t let you cum tonight?”

He frowns. “Baby..” he whines “but I’ll be a good boy for you..I-I’ll do anything for you, you know that.”

You caress his desperate face with your hand and look into his large eyes. “Sweetheart..you couldn’t even dust the nightstand properly.”

He licks his lips. “I'm sorry, baby, give me another chance. I’ll make it up to you..just take these things off.” He pulls forward again. His tone grows dark with that last statement. It’s as if he isn’t asking, but is demanding you take them off.

You’re really riling him up. You chuckle and lean forward.

You kiss his neck, but make sure not to bite his skin, his manager would kill both you and him if he showed up to work with a necklace of hickeys.

“You like it when I touch you, huh?” You whisper into his ear.

He nods quickly before moaning. 

“How about when I taste you?”

He nods again and watches as you lower your face to his hips. You flip his skirt up and kiss his tip.

“Fuck..” a breath leaves him once your round lips circle his tip and lick the pre-cum leaking from out of it. It’s more than you’ve given him so far, but it still isn’t enough.

His abs flex as he breathes heavily.

You draw a long stripe up his shaft. “How is it, baby, still good?”

“Yes..so good..just a little more..”

“You gonna beg for me again?” You tease him and lick once more.

He fidgets. “Yes, baby, please, I’ll do anything.” You hear the chains of the handcuff struggle against the headboard. “Just let me see you.”

With your head hidden under his skirt, he can’t see the satisfying way your mouth takes him in. He can’t see you choke as he enters your throat over and over. He truly did not think about the ramifications of wearing such an interesting costume for you, and it’s starting to annoy him.

“No can do, my love..” you swallow him now, bobbing up and down while using your two hands to cover what can’t fit.

He can hear you gag and see your back arch as your ass sticks up in the air for him to look at, and it almost makes him feel better about not seeing your head. But he still tries to get out of the handcuffs.

He fills your throat up, making you choke, but you struggle through it, moaning to send vibrations that you know will push him along.

He moans. “That’s it..yes..keep going..”

You move faster as he curses.

You can feel yourself growing hotter. You could just bounce on it to bring you both to your long awaited release, but that would be too easy. Today is different.

He groans louder and before he can finally release, you pull up from him and take his skirt off of your head.

He frowns. “Baby please..” he begs as he pants.

You shake your head while breathing heavily. “Do you think you deserve it?”

He nods “Come here, let me taste you too.” You’re not surprised he wants to do the 69 position on a random morning, but today is not that day.

You chuckle and lift his skirt over your head again.

He draws in a sharp breath. “Yes..”

You continue to bob your head up and down. He nearly loses it when you swallow him whole, but he focuses on breaking his handcuffs quietly, loudly groaning to cover up the clinking sound of plastic.

The sounds you make are lewd. Your mouth and jaw become messy, spit building up as you work on him. He’s so close, but just like before, you pull off of him.

“Ohh..oh my God..” he shuts his eyes tightly. “I don’t know how much more I can’t take, baby.” And you can tell he isn’t lying because of the way sweat coats his forehead. But you know you get the most out of him after denying him for a bit, so you truly have no regrets.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “That’s too bad..should we just stop now?”

“No! No.. baby, at least, let me taste you please..I know it’s dripping down your legs by now. Don’t you want me to help you with that?” He asks so innocently, and you fall for it. Your throat was sore and needed a break from taking in his monster dick after all.

You remove a pillow from behind his head before kneeling over his face and lowering yourself carefully. You then push the fabric covering your opening to the side.

He moans loudly. “Yes, baby..just like that.” You start to ride him and throw your head back while he moans against you. His mouth kisses you just as well as it did before. Only this time, his tongue licks over that one spot. You know you’ll see stars soon. You close your eyes and gasp. 

You don’t notice that he’s broken the plastic handcuffs easily because he still has his hands around the headboard.

You aren’t putting all your weight on him and it bothers him that you aren’t relaxed although he’s begged you to be many times before when he’s asked you to ride his face. So, he takes matters into his own hands.

He pulls free and flips you over, holding both wrists tightly so you can’t push his head away.  

Your eyes widen. How and when did he break-free? You grunt. 

“Ohh you’re that impatient..what a bad boy.” You ruffle your hand through his hair.

He lifts his head up and looks onto with dangerous, low eyes. You’ve never seen him so..hungry. 

“Yes..I’ve been waiting since I departed that airport.” He practically growls. Oh, you’re in for it now. Your pathetic, pleading puppy eyed boy just left the building. He takes another deep dive, licking and kissing you like he’s been aching for the opportunity. 

You moan. 

He takes a break so he can lean back and chuckle at the shock in your eyes. He then hooks his fingers into the waistband of your thing and drags it down your legs.

“Been thinking of how deep I want to go, how tight I’m gonna hold you until you can’t think of anything but me.” He dangles the wet fabric in the air on one finger then holds it to his nose. “Ahh fuck…you smell amazing.”

Your legs try to close as you become more aroused by his pervy actions, but he holds you open with his knees prying you apart.

He takes in a deep breath to drink in your natural scent. “I haven’t done this in a while”

You bite your bottom lip.

“When you invited me over the first time, I stole that frilly pink and purple panty of yours…” he leans forward again and kisses your stomach while looking up at you. 

“It smelled delicious..” he kisses your thigh next. You tremble as his hands hold your waist.

He then speaks over your pussy. “The first night..I held it to my nose as I came into my hand.” his tongue draws a stripe along your slit. You gasp.

“Johnny..” you whimper.

“The second night..I did the same thing only this time..I watched you through the window..you were getting undressed after our date that night. I left you with just a kiss because you weren’t ready yet..but I made sure to leave your blinds open. You started putting lotion on your body..and I wished it were my hands..”

He uses his index and middle finger to open you up more then dives in again, licking more vigorously as his nails dig into your soft, warm skin to hold you still.

“That’s..wrong.” You grind onto his face while moaning out.

“And yet, you’re still here..I think you like having a pervert eat you out..” he kisses your thigh again.

“Johnny..l”

“You should know I still have it..and I take it with me for every trip.” He then moves his head faster, his tongue exploring every inch of you.

“Johnny..I’m close, fuck.” You move your hips in circular motions to get more friction against your sweet spot.

“Go ahead ..I’ve been waiting.”

Your back arches, it’s all becoming too much for you, but before you can push his head away. He grabs your hands.

And when you finally climax on his wonderful mouth, he continues to hold both wrists with one hand and attaches the handcuffs to them with the other.

You lay in the plush bed, panting as you come down from it all.

“Ahh what a beauty.” He kisses the inner part of your thighs and kneels in front of you. Your eyes open and reality sets in that you’re the one that’s bound now.

He watches you as you look at his tip peeking beneath the skirt, then laughs at you for being so lustful for it. He unclips his garter belt and slides his thong off before tossing it to the side where yours is.

He then lays down beside you, propping his head up with one hand.

His fingers trace down your abdomen gently as he opens your cover up and unhooks your bra from the front so he can see all of you. 

“Now..it’s time for room service right?” He bites into your thighs and listens to you moan.

He pulls your bra down and kisses your nipples. He then picks up a feather and delicately circles around your hard nipples now to return the favor. 

You draw in a sharp breath. “Johnny..” 

He watches the way you shiver and goosebumps raise. Your legs tighten while you fidget. You bite your bottom lip, unsure of how much teasing you can take. 

He drags the feather up and down your abdomen. You close your eyes tightly. 

“Nuh uh look at me.” He pinches a nipple to get your attention. “I’m giving you 5 star service, don’t look away.” He chuckles and runs his thumb over your bottom lip

“Next on my to do list..hmmm should I fuck you?” He drags the feather down your abdomen and to your hips, his eyes tracing over your curves. Over every inch that drives him wild.

You nod.

“Speak when I’m talking to you..” his eyes grow dark suddenly. This was the power Johnny had. He could easily turn the tables on you in seconds..even while wearing furry cat ears. He put this comical outfit on to trick you into thinking you’d be in control this time. But no..oh no, you were so wrong.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes what?” His fingers replace the feather now. Tracing down your belly and to your apex. He cups your pussy then presses his middle and ring fingers in while sliding up and down.

You look down at his veiny arm, but his other arm sneaks around head, his hand holding your chin to turn your face back to him. 

“Look at me..I won’t ask you again.” he growls and it sends chills down your spine.

You bat your lashes and look into his eyes. you whimper as his fingertips dig in deeper. 

“Fuck me, Johnny” 

“Hard or soft?”

At this point, you’re mindlessly rutting against him, moving against his hand as you chase your climax greedily.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t—doesn’t matter, just fuck me..please..” you beg so beautifully it’s like music to his ears. And with that combined with how silky wet you are, he almost loses it, but instead he pulls his fingers out and massages your clit.

You throw your head back. “Fuck..I’m gonna..”

“Y/n..tell me what you want.. I have to make sure you’re satisfied with the service, don’t I?” His fingers move faster as he speaks over your open mouth.

You lose your breath, panting as you’re about to crash again. He already knows your answer, but he wants to hear you say it, wants to hear you beg for it. He slows his movements.

“Johnny please..I just…”

“You don’t get to cum until you answer the question.” He starts to speed up again, knowing you can’t possibly hold back.

“Hard!! I want it hard!” You finally scream out and with that your climax crashes over you. Johnny chuckles as he watches you make a mess while squirming in his arms.

He kneels over you again and grabs his phone from the nightstand beside the bed.

“I miss you so much when I’m away, I want to have something to keep me company.” He takes a picture of you while he rests in between your legs. 

He then flips you over, makes you arch your back but puts a pillow under you.

“Are you ready for me?” His hands caress your ass.

You hold yourself up on your elbows with your wrists bound in front of you. “Yes.” You whine.

He enters you swiftly. Slamming your ass against his hips.

You cry out and fall forward after the harsh attack. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust, but he stays in so he can feel all of you. You can already feel tears coming to your eyes after the initial pain of penetration.

He holds onto the headboard for stability then takes another picture of your body from this angle then tosses his phone. “Perfect.”

He grunts as he drives into you, staying for a moment before pulling out to do it again. You whimper, your body growing weak under him already. You start to feel yourself open more, but it’s still not enough.

“Johnny!! Ahh! You’re too big, it hurts..”He’s thick and long, all you can do is cry into sheets as he stretches you. Fortunately for him, he knows you’d really say the safe word if you were uncomfortable, so he keeps going. 

“Keep whining, it only makes me harder.” He growls.

“Please..I don’t think I can...” your chest heaving as you try to collect your nerves.

He spanks your ass, causing you to yelp and cry harder. “You wanted the biggest and best because you’re greedy..right?”

All you can do is whine.

“Making me do all this just because I missed a spot.” He then holds your waist to turn you on your back so he can see you drooling with glossy eyes. 

“And now you want me to stop? It’s too late, baby..I’m gonna make sure you’re too full to ask for more.” Your breasts, pushed together after resting in-between your bound arms, move beautifully with each rough thrust and your moans grow louder. 

You look even better with your hands tied together, so he notes how he likes this restricted look on you. Normally, you’d be swatting his hands away or digging your nails deep into his back. You’re completely at his mercy this time, you’re basically his pretty doll to fuck as he pleases, to touch as he pleases.

He cups a breast with his cold hand and rubs his palm over your nipple. His tongue licks his bottom lip as he squeezes you gently. You moan his name again. You feel pretty and adored under his gaze. You may get upset with him sometimes, but only he could make you feel this good.

He then lowers his hand down to your stomach. 

“Look at my girl, you take me so well, you kept this pussy warm for me, right?” He throws a leg over his shoulder and the new angle finishes you. He holds your ankle with one hand then presses his fingers into your cheeks with his other hand. 

“You should see yourself right now..crying and drooling..you’re making a mess..but it’s just how you like it, right?”

He snaps his hips even harder. The headboard knocks against the wall repeatedly and a small part of you starts to worry about the noise complaint you’ll receive later. You breathe heavily and whine louder. He groans louder in response. Yup, definitely gonna get that complaint.

He makes you feel more and more empty headed with each passing second. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. Only mousy noises escape in between the sounds of him entering you deep. You feel dizzy, but in complete bliss.

He tilts his head and smirks. “You had so much to say earlier, cat got your tongue?” 

Yes, he’s a bit corny, but something about Johnny ruining you while wearing a skimpy costume and skirt makes this all hotter. His nipples are hard and stick out above his lowered bustier while his small waist is neatly cinched. His skirt covers where your two bodies meet but it doesn’t matter, you can still hear him pounding into you like he wants to build a new bed from IKEA later.

“Ahh Johnny..” you whimper once more, your voice going up several pitches while your breath is caught in your throat. His hand lets go of your cheeks and caresses your other breast.

“You crying for me? You’re so wet..Still too much for you?” His thumb plays with your nipple.

You shake your head.

He smiles sadistically. “That’s my girl.”

The hand on your ankle slides down to the inside of your knee, he leans down closer to your face, pressing your knee into the bed beside it. You had no idea you could be this flexible until you met him.

He kisses your ear then whispers. “I saw so many beautiful women but all I could think about was you. I need you baby, keep me in..fuck..” He bites your neck hard. 

Curse words flow out of his mouth as he gets ready to climax with you. His hand squeezes your waist, holding you down while you tremble with him still deep inside.

You practically yell his name as you ruin the sheets under you.

He quickly opens your handcuffs then lays down beside you, giving you long strokes instead of his short, harsh ones. “How is it baby, is it good?” He fondles your breasts while hugging you tightly from behind. He decides it’s time to switch to soft. 

He has enough energy to keep going hard, but in this moment, he wants to let you feel loved, because you are. He drapes your leg over his then massages your belly, inching closer and closer to your apex. He reaches your clit and draws deep circles slowly.

He kisses your neck and whispers. “Tell me I’m a good boy, baby..I make you feel good, don’t I?”

You can’t do anything but nod fervently. 

He starts to go faster. “Baby..please..say it for me.”

You moan, your hand reaches around behind you and to his hair. “Y-You’re a good boy..so good.”

His hips move faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with both your whimpers fills the air.

“It’s good like this, right? I love you, baby.”

Your eyes shut tightly. “I love you too..so much!” A sudden burst of pleasure overwhelms your body. You shake in his arms.

“I’ve got you..breathe with me..good girl..” he whispers and slows his pace while cumming with you. You breathe deeply then turn your head to kiss him. His arms wrap around your waist as you both climax finally, the combined essence gushing out of you like never before.

“That’s it..my pretty girl.” He pulls out before kissing your ear. “I missed you.”

You groan and pant. “I missed you too, baby.”

“How are you feeling?” He kisses your neck.

“I’m..let’s just say I don’t think I can go to work tomorrow either.”

He takes in the scent of your hair. “Ooo in that case, shall we have another go?”

Your eyes widen. He just destroyed you, you're not even sure if you can stand up straight for more than 5 seconds. “Slow down there..we gotta clean up first.”

“Okay!” He lowers himself to the apex of your legs, his hands slowly parting your thighs as he wets his lips.

“Johnny..baby, that’s not what I mean.” 

He drags your garter belt down with his teeth while looking up at you.

Your head falls back, but it’s too late, he’s already “cleaning up” and within minutes you’re gripping his hair and crying til you’re hoarse.

The End

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

A Curse [Chapter 3: Flower District]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent…at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon’s right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap relationship, entertainment industry misogyny, some body dissatisfaction/dysmorphia, medical stuff, a creepy dude, a special surprise is found in Aegon's office!!!

Word count: 6.2k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

You sleep in late and wake to the sound of excited voices out in the kitchen. When you follow them, you find Baela using a pink Click ‘n Flame utility lighter to ignite the candles on a sloppily but lovingly homemade cake, Pillsbury Funfetti according to the blue box left upturned on the countertop, lumpy white icing dotted with multicolored sprinkles. Jace must be responsible. You panic, thinking that you have forgotten a birthday, but no: you quickly recall that Baela is a Sagittarius and Jace is—somewhat improbably—a Capricorn.

“What are we celebrating?” you ask.

Baela looks up from the cake, the candlelight luminescence radiant on her face. She is beaming, she is glowing, she is definitely meant to be an actress. She shines too brightly to belong anywhere but among the stars. “I got the part.”

“Which part?”

“The one in the new Yorgos Lanthimos movie!”

“No way!” you shout, and you rush over to hug her; but already there is a sinking feeling that you are dimly aware of through the rush, and when the revelry is over you will lie in bed alone with these thoughts, treasonous yet true: When will it be my turn? Why can’t this happen to me? “That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you!”

“It’s about the French Revolution,” Baela says when you pull away, still grinning hugely. “I’m getting third billing, my name will be on the promo posters! I’m flying to Paris for filming next month!”

“Wow.” Your smile is frozen on your face. “Wow, wow, wow, I can’t believe it. This is so awesome!”

Then Baela realizes how it must feel for you, and she is sympathetic, rubbing your shoulder as her expression twists into something soft and bashful. “But hey, your luck is turning around too!”

“Yeah,” Jace says. “You got to be in Episode 5,000 of Grey’s Anatomy.” Baela gives him a reproachful glare. “What?” he asks, clueless.

“No, it’s totally cool,” you insist. “I’m really, really thrilled for you, Baela. You have to take a million pictures in Paris so I can see all the architecture and desserts and hot French dudes!”

Jace snorts. “Are French dudes even hot?” He sounds skeptical.

“You can be my date to the premiere,” Baela tells you. Jace gapes at her, incredulous. “We can pose together on the red carpet and you can do some networking! Maybe Yorgos will even like you and cast you in his next project!”

But something about the way she says it makes the prospect sound ludicrous, fantastical, fictional. Baela’s breakthrough is reality, yours is unicorns and mermaids and the Loch Ness Monster. “You are so wonderful, but you should take Jace.”

“Yeah, you should take Jace,” Jace says.

Baela pulls a knife out of the bamboo block on the kitchen counter. Her parents bought it, like they bought almost everything else in the apartment; they believe in her, lots of people do. “Do you want some cake? When’s your appointment?” The appointment you didn’t cancel, contrary to Aegon’s explicit instructions. Technically, you never agreed to, so you haven’t lied to him. That makes you feel better. Baela glances at the calendar and reads the time written there in red ink. “Oh good, not until noon. You definitely have time for cake!”

“Babe, you gotta blow out your candles first,” Jace says. Baela closes her eyes, becomes still and serene, extinguishes the tiny golden flickers of light with one delicate puff. Then she begins cutting the Funfetti cake. You get three forks from the silverware drawer. Jace hands you a plate from the cabinet as he complains about having to go to class today: Music Aesthetics, Analysis, and Philosophy.

“Just a little one, please,” you tell Baela. A moment later, she plops a skinny slice of cake onto your plate. “Thanks, Becca! Wait, no, I mean Baela. Sorry.”

She laughs, still wielding a knife covered in white frosting. “Who’s Becca?”

“Aegon’s fiancée.”

“Oh, your agent’s future wife? The agent that you are definitely not into at all?”

“Yeah, that one, you got it.” You give her a wink and take a bite of cake: frosting so sweet it hurts your teeth, tiny kaleidoscopic flecks of candy like gold in a stream.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So, which one are you liking the feel of?” Dr. Cunningham asks, smiling in a way that is effervescent and yet impersonal, vaguely impatient, a real estate agent type of charisma. He must be in his mid-fifties, and yet his face is nearly entirely purged of wrinkles, smooth and shiny and evenly tanned. His teeth are too perfect to not be veneers. People keep suggesting those to you too; you need more time to wrap your mind around the idea of having your canines and incisors shaved down to helpless nubs.

“Um…” You go down the line again, squeezing all three samples that are arranged on the stainless steel utility table that Dr. Cunningham wheeled over to you. “I walked in wanting the gummy bear implants, and I think I feel the same way now.”

“Excellent!” he says, wearing that same smile. His eyes, very blue, never change; they are alert yet vacuous, like the fatal error screen on a Windows computer.

“And they’re safer, aren’t they? The gummy bear ones?”

“Statistically, yes,” Dr. Cunningham agrees, somewhat briskly, as if he is eager to change the subject. “But I wouldn’t worry about that. I hardly ever see ruptures in any of my patients.”

Hardly ever, not never. “That’s good!” you say spiritedly, like a star pupil.

“As I mentioned earlier, they are a bit more expensive than the other options, but we have several financing options available.”

“My parents are paying, so no worries there.”

“Fantastic.” He’s still smiling. You kind of wish he would stop. “You want to be an actress, I assume?”

“I do, yeah! How’d you know?”

He chuckles as he rolls the small metal table away. “That’s what all the girls are doing out here, right? And if it’s not acting, it’s singing, or modelling, or…what do you call that, when you make money on TikTok or wherever?”

“Being an influencer.”

“Right,” Dr. Cunningham says. “Well, I wish you the very best of luck.” It’s chivalrous but hollow, an echo of the encouragement he’s given to thousands of women just like you, except probably more beautiful and more talented and actually getting some of the parts they audition for.

I got a part, you think, and your mood lifts a bit. Aegon finally found me one. And he believes I’ll get more.

“Is it okay if I take a look?” the ever-smiling Dr. Cunningham says, and your heart begins to pound beneath the gown you’re wearing, scratchy white polyester-blend fabric that opens in the front. But this is all standard procedure, and you knew to expect an exam, and you should not feel like you’re lining up for the firing squad.

“Of course!” you exclaim too enthusiastically; your voice cracks. You undo the tie down by your waist and the fabric across your chest and belly goes slack. Your tan TOMS wedges are scattered on the linoleum floor that’s supposed to look like wood. The sundress you wore to the appointment, patterned with large sunlit palm leaves, is folded on a chair. Your eyeshadow matches: matte green Thorns by Anastasia Beverly Hills, sparkly gold Whisper by Natasha Denona.

As Dr. Cunningham opens your gown and begins the exam, you stare at a framed print of Venice Beach on the wall, and you pretend you are there under the hot glaring daylight instead of here in a frigidly air-conditioned office being prodded and manipulated, measured not to be admired or understood but only to be improved upon.

Dr. Cunningham is saying: “Just so you’re aware, due to how firm a gummy bear implant is, we typically have to make a slightly larger incision in order to insert it. Saline and traditional silicone implants, being more flexible, can be squeezed in through a smaller opening, for example using a transaxillary incision in the underarm. But they’re also more prone to wrinkling and rippling, and they must be replaced more frequently, so that pliability comes at a cost. I think gummy bear implants are a very good choice for you.”

“And…where exactly would the incision be?” Your heartbeat is still thunderous; you can hear the scorching red blood flow throbbing in your ears. Dr. Cunningham either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mention it.

“We’d go in right here,” he says, skimming his gloved fingers just beneath your left breast, your raw heart just two inches away. Goosebumps prickle on your arms. “It’s what we call an inframammary incision, and it gives us more room to work with to ensure the implant is placed properly, and…”

He loses his train of thought, interrupted by a commotion out in the lobby. Through the closed exam room door, you can hear people arguing and then something being spilled—the jar of pens on the receptionist’s desk? the glass bowl of mints?—and heavy sprinting footsteps. Dr. Cunningham pulls his hands away and you snatch your gown shut just as the door bursts open, and Aegon stands there breathing heavily from the exertion, hair in disarray, white Nike Killshots with a red slash of a Swoosh, dark jeans, salmon-colored t-shirt that’s too big for him, tan sport coat jacket yanked off of his shoulders. His attacker, the elderly receptionist, has chased him to the doorway.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she’s shrieking. She smacks him with a massive leather purse. “You can’t just go barging in on patients! What are you, some kind of druggie? We don’t keep any opioids in this office!”

Dr. Cunningham yells: “Will you call the police, Barbara?!”

“No wait, I know him,” you say, and both Dr. Cunningham and the receptionist stare hostilely at you. You ignore them and look at Aegon instead, stunned. “Hi.”

He straightens his jacket. His eyes, that dark and turbulent blue, are fixed on your face as you hastily retie your gown so it stays shut. “Hi. What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s just a consultation.”

“For a surgery you’re not going to have?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “How did you know I was here?”

“I just had this feeling you weren’t going to cancel,” Aegon says. “So I went to your apartment and you weren’t home, but your roommate told me where you were and gave me the address that you wrote on the calendar.”

“Oh.”

“She’s very nice. Your roommate, I mean.”

“Yeah, Baela’s cool.”

“She offered me a piece of Funfetti cake.”

“Did you take it?”

“No. I was in a hurry to get here.”

“Right.” You remain seated on the edge of the exam table with your hands clasped together in your lap. The receptionist and Dr. Cunningham’s bewildered gazes fly between you and the intruder.

Aegon sighs and nods towards the hallway that leads out to the lobby and the front door of the office. “Come on,” he says gently. “Get dressed. Let’s go.”

“I can’t,” you reply.

“Why not?”

You don’t answer; your eyes dart to the print of Venice Beach on the wall and stay there as they begin to water. Aegon crosses the room—the receptionist and Dr. Cunningham shuffle around the cramped space to keep away from him—and stops when he is standing right in front of you, his hands in the pockets of his rumpled tan jacket.

“Why not?” Aegon asks again, very softly now.

You look at him. Your voice is a quivering whisper. “I don’t want to have to give this up.” The city, the potential, the dream.

“Hey,” Aegon murmurs, leaning in close. You can smell the ocean and sunlight and Juicy Fruit gum. Strands of blonde hair, ripped from the sheen of gel, shag over his forehead. “You’re bright as hell just the way you are. You don’t need surgery to be an actress. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

And immediately, you are ready to leave. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You wriggle down off of the exam table, check your gown to make sure you’re still covered, and turn to Dr. Cunningham. “I guess I’m not interested anymore.”

“Please never set foot in my office again,” he says.

“No problem,” Aegon snaps. And then to you: “I’ll meet you outside. We’ll get lunch.”

“Sure,” you reply, still a little dazed.

Aegon hurries out of the exam room before the police are summoned. Dr. Cunningham and the receptionist leave too, muttering to each other and casting you appalled glares. When you are alone, you throw off the gown and put on your bra, wedges, and sundress…and as you are smoothing the creases from the soft cotton patterned with palm leaves, you smile to yourself, kind pink heat swirling in your cheeks.

Aegon is in the parking lot and leaning against his white Chrysler Sebring convertible. He has put on his black aviator sunglasses to blot out the intense afternoon sun. Dr. Cunningham’s office is on a busy street in Beverly Hills; you can hear car horns, pedestrians shouting into their cellphones, toy dogs yapping, Shape Of You chiming from a passing Mercedes. Across the street is a series of shops in a row, Starbucks and Neiman Marcus and Gucci. Aegon says, pointing to your 2003 Honda Accord: “I’ll drive you back to get your car later.”

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“Chinatown,” he says, opening the passenger’s door of his Sebring. “And from now on, you listen when I tell you to do something, just like you said you would.”

“I’ll be your best client ever,” you promise, climbing into the car. The top is down, the wind blowing in from the Pacific Ocean to the west.

“I’m here for a reason. It’s not to be ignored. I can be your advocate, but you have to be honest with me.”

“I completely understand. I won’t mislead you again.”

“The Grey’s Anatomy people really liked you, by the way.”

The hope unfurls across your face like dawn over the earth. “Really?”

Aegon gives you a teasing, crooked grin. “Don’t pretend you’re shocked.” He shuts the car door, jogs over to the driver’s side, drives east through thick midday traffic.

At the same restaurant you went to the day you met, seated beside the same large fish tank, you and Aegon place the same orders: moo goo gai pan, boneless spare ribs. The waitress, Lanying, asks Aegon about how his siblings are doing before she speeds off to tend to her other customers.

Aegon watches the malevolent ember-colored oscars for a while, then taps his paper Chinese zodiac calendar, rimmed in red and gold. “Which one are you?”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking. “You already know.”

But Aegon doesn’t smile; he only stares at you blankly. “What?”

“I told you about my zodiac sign. The first time we had lunch here.”

And he looks at you as if his skull is as clear as the transluscent blue-tinged water of the fish tank, all the lights on but nobody home, and for a split second you almost feel as if you don’t recognize him, as if he is a stranger wearing Aegon’s windswept blonde hair and ill-fitting clothes and the crow’s feet around his eyes. Then Aegon repossesses himself and he is flippant, casual. “Oh yeah, right. Totally. I remember now.”

But you have the sense that he doesn’t. You try to hide how much this wounds you. It must not have been memorable. It must not have meant anything to him. “I’m a dragon!” you say brightly, and hold up your hands as if they are claws, opening and closing your hooked fingers.

Now he does smile, a little preoccupied, a little forced. “Of course you are.”

You scan the calendar. “What year was Becca born?”

“Uh…1994, I think.”

“She’s a dog,” you say. You read the description silently to yourself as the tea and wonton soups are brought to the table: Loyal and honest, you work well with others. Generous yet stubborn and often selfish. Look to the horse or tiger. Watch out for dragons.

~~~~~~~~~~

You arrive at Aegon’s office twenty minutes early, mostly because you miss him. It’s Wednesday, June 25th, and you park your Honda on the narrow sloping street and step out into 80-degree sunlight, ambient dog barking, powerlines crossing overhead. A lady walking her chihuahua waves at you and adjusts her sunglasses. Window air conditioning units whir. The trees, ginkgos and pink trumpets and Victorian boxes and palms, are still in the bright breezeless afternoon. The skyline of Downtown is a mirage on the horizon. From the barber shop across the street, you can hear a radio playing Bailamos by Enrique Iglesias.

When you clop into the lobby in your TOMS wedges, you see that Aegon’s door is closed. At his desk, Brandon is on the landline phone and jotting notes down in his planner, his flower pen scribbling rapidly across pink paper. When he spots you, he covers the phone speaker with his hand. “Hey girl!”

“Sorry, I know I’m early. Is he busy with another client?”

“No, go on in!” Brandon reaches down to dig around in the minifridge and sets a Perrier on the ledge of his desk. You take it, thank him, and go to Aegon’s door. You are puzzled to hear people talking on the other side, muffled indistinct voices. You wear an ocean blue sundress and cool metallic shades on your eyelids: Shellshock by Urban Decay, Strike by Natasha Denona. You open the door.

Aegon has his Nike Killshots up on his untidy desk and is playing the Nintendo 64. Mario is running through what appears to be some sort of underground maze, foggy and strewn with gold coins. The greenish haze must be toxic. Mario’s Power Meter is slowly ticking down; each time Mario snags a coin, it is partially restored. Aegon is watching the screen as he talks to a woman whose back is turned to you: tall, willowy, long dark hair. They don’t realize you’re here.

Aegon is saying as he clicks the transluscent orange Nintendo 64 controller: “That’s great, babe.”

“And the charity thing is on July 19th. I got a custom suit from Tom Ford, it’s powder blue, all you have to do is show up to the fitting.”

He sighs euphorically. “You’re the best.”

She giggles. “I know.”

Then Aegon notices you, and for a moment he seems shaken—not in a good way—and for some reason you feel like you’ve made some horrible mistake. The woman spins around to see what he’s looking at. She is stunning and ethereal and wearing a plain sack dress that hangs perfectly on her, a young Cher, and she smiles at you, kind and dazzling.

“Hi!” you say. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m a little early, I mixed up my appointment time because I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re fine,” Aegon replies, but he’s still distracted. Mario suffocates in the maze and drops over dead. Aegon turns off the game. He clears his throat. “Uh, this is Becca.”

You shake her hand when she offers it. Gold bangle bracelets jangle on her wrist. “It’s so nice to meet you, Becca!”

“And you must be the new client!” she says warmly. “The one from…where was it, Michigan?”

“Minnesota,” you reply.

“Oh, brr!” Becca says, pretending to shiver, and you laugh.

“Yeah, I’m really happy to be here. And you’re getting married soon, I hear!”

Becca beams, clapping her hands together. “Yes! I’m so excited but so stressed. The planning is endless.”

“Are you going to do it here in the city somewhere?”

“Aegon didn’t tell you?” Becca is perhaps a tad disappointed. “It’s a destination wedding.”

Aegon says from his desk, somewhat recovered: “Turk…something.”

“Turkey?” you say doubtfully. An interesting choice.

“Turks and Caicos,” Becca clarifies.

“No way! My sister just got engaged there, she said it was gorgeous.”

Aegon asks you from his desk: “Have you ever been?”

“I wish. Not yet, maybe one day.”

“You’ll have to come to the wedding!” Becca says cheerfully.

“Me?!” It’s ridiculous; you’re a nobody, you barely know her, you have a crush on her future husband.

“Yeah, all of Aegon’s clients are invited. Aren’t they, babe?” Becca glances at him, and then her eyes catch there and they stare at each other, Aegon slumped in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, Becca standing next to you, and there are several slow awkward seconds of silence. Aegon gets a piece of Juicy Fruit gum from a pack on his desk and shoves it into his mouth. Becca looks at you and then back to Aegon, who is pretending to organize the clutter on his desk. You notice for the first time that there is a ceramic bowl of Honeycrisp apples there.

“I thought you didn’t like those,” you say to alleviate the tension that you don’t understand.

“Well, Brando eats them,” Aegon explains.

“That makes sense.”

“And I guess they’re growing on me.”

“They’re really good for you,” you say. “Helps to balance out all the boneless spare ribs.”

Now Becca is studying you, and instead of being warm she is now cold and rigid and perplexed. After a while she asks stiffly: “What are you two up to today?”

“We’re going to the Flower District,” Aegon tells her as he rolls his gum wrapper into a ball between his palms. “I’ll be done in a few hours, I just have to get some current pics of her to send to people. So we’re going to do a quick impromptu photoshoot.”

Becca nods, still scrutinizing you. You open your Perrier and start gulping it so you have an excuse not to talk.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Aegon asks Becca, and she perks up a bit.

“Beef bourguignon. It’s a new recipe, I’m really excited to try it.”

Aegon pretends to drool. “Amazing. I can’t wait.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Becca says, and goes to leave.

“It was so nice to meet you!” you call after her.

Becca replies curtly without stopping: “Yup. You too.” You hear the two-inch heels of her gold sandals tapping on the scuffed wood floor and then the rough opening and closing of the front door of the half-duplex.

“What just happened?” you ask Aegon.

“Nothing,” he says, standing from his desk. His shoes match his shirt, a green plaid Ralph Lauren button-up that isn’t tucked into his jeans. His hair is slicked back and shiny with gel.

“I’m sorry, did I…did I do something wrong…?”

He sighs. “No.”

You toy anxiously with your Perrier bottle. You don’t want Aegon to fire you; you don’t want to lose him. He’s the only person who understands. “You should have told me we were going to be taking pictures. I would have done my hair and worn normal eyeshadow.”

He smiles. “I wanted you to look like you.” Then he heads off to his Chrysler Sebring, and you follow him.

The Flower District is on the other side of Chinatown in Downtown Los Angeles. It’s the largest wholesale flower market in the country, six blocks of vendors selling every plant imaginable, from ordinary daisies and tulips to bamboo shoots, ferns, herbs, cactuses, succulents, baby trees, house plants like monstera and ivy. The aroma is overwhelming; when you breathe deeply, you imagine prismatic blossoms bursting up through the alveoli of your lungs, roses and irises and calla lilies and orchids. Aegon weaves through the aisles and frowns at the magnificent flowers, none of them right for some reason. You are endlessly pausing to sniff petals and gingerly graze your fingerprints over leaves. Aegon has to backtrack to find you when you stop to watch a demonstration of a Venus flytrap being fed.

“Here we go!” Aegon announces triumphantly when at last he is satisfied, and he lifts the large bouquet from a plastic bucket for you to see: massive sunflowers, water dripping off the cut stems. “They’re sunny, just like you. You like them?”

“I love them,” you say, taking the bouquet and beaming. Aegon pays in cash.

Outside under the harsh cloudless sunlight, he poses you in front of one of the flower shops, pedestrians walking behind you and a rainbow myriad of blooms out of focus. He uses his phone to take a series of photos, some up-close and some full-body shots, and you had assumed it would be awkward but it’s not, Aegon is making jokes and you are laughing and trying weird angles and spinning around so the skirt of your sundress swishes despite the lack of a breeze.

“Cool, got some good ones,” Aegon says, scanning through his phone. “We’re done.”

“What should I do with these?” you ask about the sunflowers. “Do you want them back?”

“Why would I want them back?”

“I don’t know. You paid for them, it feels weird for me to keep them.”

“They’re yours. Enjoy.”

You inhale the faint floral scent that emanates from the yellow petals. “I’m going to put them in a vase on the kitchen counter and buy them flower food so they live as long as possible. And I’m going to talk to them, because that’s supposed to be good for plants.”

Aegon chuckles. “You are ridiculous.” He slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans and sees an ice cream vendor up the street, then gestures for you to come with him. The ice cream is allegedly homemade and only comes in five flavors. Aegon orders for you both. “Hi, one vanilla and one strawberry.”

The vendor scoops the ice cream into two waffle cones. Again, as he always does, Aegon pays in cash. You locate an available bench and you and Aegon sit together with the sunflower bouquet lying between you, watching the pedestrians stroll by with their friends and partners and children and dogs.

“Tastes better when you make it,” Aegon says, licking melting strawberry ice cream from his waffle cone. “I might have another job for you.”

“Really?! Yay!”

“It’s a little unorthodox, but you said you’d take anything.”

“I definitely will.”

“It’s a music video for Maroon 5,” Aegon cautions. “It’s honestly pretty uninspiring and stupid, but it’s work. It’s another last-minute thing, at first the girlfriend of one of the band dudes was supposed to be in the video but I guess now they’re fighting all the time and the guy doesn’t like the idea of having a permanent reminder of her if they break up, which seems likely.’”

“I want to do it,” you say immediately. “When?”

“They’re planning to film the first week in July at a mansion in Beverly Hills. They already have a male actor cast. And you don’t even have to kiss him or anything, you get to argue with him in the first scene and then the rest of it is mostly you just moping around the mansion in designer outfits. Again, it’s super unoriginal. Boy and girl have a miscommunication and split, boy regrets it afterwards, they both secretly and photogenically yearn for each other. It’s very Edward leaving Bella in New Moon.”

“Sounds fantastic! Do I get to meet Maroon 5?”

Aegon is disappointed. “Are you a fan?”

“Well…not really.” You both laugh. “But I feel like it’s always cool to meet celebrities in real life.”

“Yes, you get to meet them.”

You cheer. “You are the most talented agent ever!” You take a lick of your ice cream; it’s almost gone now. You look over at Aegon, serious now. “You’re the only person who doesn’t think I’m absolutely insane for trying to do this.”

He crunches his waffle cone with his teeth. “Your roommate’s an actress, right? She must get it.”

You shrug. “Baela is confident, and magnetic, and she wants to be famous. She’s very obviously meant to be in this industry, and agents and directors respond to her. But I’m not like that. Most people don’t notice me. And that’s okay, I don’t really want to be famous. I just want to be able to be a working actor and get to stay here. If I’m not making significant progress by the end of the year, I have to choose between going back to Minnesota or being disowned and impoverished.”

Aegon watches you, thoughtful, maybe a little sad. “I like you the way you are, sunshine.”

You smile shyly at him. “Thanks. I like you too.”

“And I don’t want you to change. It’s horrible to watch someone disappear.” He devours the rest of his waffle cone. “You know…I think helping you get to where you’re going, and making sure it’s done the right way…that will be the last good thing I ever do here.”

“You don’t have to retire.”

He shakes his head. “Circumstances change. Priorities change.”

“Do you want kids?” If Becca is in her thirties, perhaps now is the time to start planning for that.

“No,” Aegon says, flinching. “Definitely no kids. You’re anti-horse, I’m anti-kid.”

“Then what’s the rush to leave L.A.?”

“It’s the right time.”

“Not for me.” You grin. “I just got here. You can’t abandon me yet.”

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of before I go. I’ll get someone I trust to sign you.”

“But I don’t want another agent.”

“The music video director asked to meet you before filming,” Aegon says, deflecting. “It’ll be quick, just ten or fifteen minutes. We’ll swing by his office on the way back to Elysian Park.”

“Okay,” you agree. You take a makeup compact out of your Patricia Nash purse and use the mirror to make sure you don’t have any ice cream on your nose or chin.

“I haven’t worked with him before,” Aegon says. “But I’ve heard very good things and obviously I’ll be there at the shoot.”

You snap your compact shut. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

In a spacious, glass-walled office in Downtown, the director introduces himself as Dan Sacco. He is tall and broad through the shoulders and extremely welcoming, offering you drinks and snacks and asking about your hometown as Aegon stands in the corner of the room, his hands in his pockets and his eyes watchful. Two jobs in two weeks; Aegon is a miracle worker.

When you get home to your apartment, it’s empty. Baela and Jace must have gone out somewhere for dinner. You put the sunflowers in a vase and then scroll through Instagram. Aegon has posted a new story: a photo of you standing with your bouquet and smiling, not sexy or alluring or arrogant but simply happy, and he must be very knowledgeable about filters because you think you look great.

Future Hollywood Walk of Fame star recipient, Aegon has added as a caption. If you want to book her, you know where to find me. He finished with a sunflower emoji. You press the heart button in the bottom right corner of the screen to like the story. Your own heart is racing now in the best way possible, feverish and loud, intoxicated, needful, seams ready to rupture.

You look up Becca’s Instagram, but her account is private. You send her a follow request. She doesn’t accept it.

~~~~~~~~~~

The night before the shoot, there is a knock at your door. It’s 8:30 p.m., a strange hour, not early enough for Amazon deliveries or a visit from one of Jace’s eccentric PhD program friends, not late enough for a drunk tenant to have mistaken your apartment for their own. When you open the door, you are at first so shocked you can’t place him. Then you remember where you know the hulking man in the tan suit from. It’s Dan, the director of the music video.

“Oh my God, hi!” you welcome him. You have just gotten home from Cold Stone Creamery and are still in your drab grey uniform. You always drive to and from work now, per Aegon’s insistence. You promised you’d listen, and you’re trying your best. Jace is in Baela’s bedroom banging on his Yamaha keyboard. From the velvet orange couch in the living room where she is watching The Vampire Diaries, Baela peeks curiously over at where your visitor fills up the doorway.

Dan seems pleased by your enthusiasm. “Hello again.”

“Can I help you with something? I know the shoot is tomorrow, I’m really excited. I was about to get ready for bed so I can go to sleep early and be well-rested. There’s not a problem with the music video, is there? Please don’t say it’s cancelled or that I’m fired or something.”

Dan chuckles, a deep slow rumble. “No, nothing like that. I just wanted to give you a heads up that we added a scene to the script.” He holds up a thin packet of papers held together by a single staple. “I’m not allowed to leave it in an unsecured location, so I have to take it with me when I go. But I thought you should be aware so you’re prepared when you show up to set.”

“Aw, that’s so thoughtful of you!” You take the packet and flip through it, skimming for an unfamiliar scene. “Did you get my address from Aegon? Or Brandon, his receptionist?”

“It was in your file that they sent over,” Dan says, perhaps a bit guardedly, and before you can ask anything else you stumble upon the scene, and your stomach drops. The actress—me, you think, that’s not some other woman, that’s me—will be lying in a vast empty bathtub, soaked hair, dripping skin, black lingerie, writhing and whimpering as she mourns the loss of her lover.

“Um…the bathtub scene?” you squeak.

“It’s going to be so cinematic,” Dan says, his large hands painting a picture with dramatic gestures. “Sunlight streaming in through a window, your skin glowing, you’ve drained the tub but you’re too heartbroken to get up so you’re just sprawled there, still drenched from the bathwater. Obviously it would make more sense if you were naked, but…we can’t do that in a music video.” He laughs. “But the aesthetic will be divine, like sexy mourning widow. And we’ll get all kinds of shots, you crying, you angry, you pining, you flirting and beckoning the camera closer, and we can get creative, you can just kind of crawl around all over the tub and we’ll see what you come up with.”

You gaze at the script until all the words vanish, imaging a room full of men watching you roll around in underwear, black lace wet and clinging to your skin, no secrets, nowhere to disappear. I can’t do that. But you can’t say no. “Is there going to be a woman on set to…you know, to…like…supervise, or, or something…?”

“You mean an intimacy coordinator?”

“Yes, thank you, that’s the term I was looking for.” Does Aegon know about this? He has to, right?

“Well, it’s not a sex scene,” Dan says rationally. “It’s not even a kissing scene. So we would never pay to have an intimacy coordinator around for this, it’s completely unnecessary.”

“Oh.” I can’t do that. I can’t do that. You feel nauseous; you feel dizzy, like you might stagger if you try to move.

“Look, if you’re uncomfortable, that’s totally cool,” Dan says. “I get it, a job like this isn’t for everyone. I have a list of backups I can call, and I can find somebody else—”

“No!” you cry out, then give the script back to Dan and manage a smile. “No, sorry, I was just a little confused, but I understand now. Thank you for letting me know about the new scene, and I can absolutely handle it.”

“Great.” He grins proudly. “I knew I could count on you. See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

Dan lumbers down the hallway, and you close the door when he’s out of sight. Baela asks from the couch: “What do they want you to do?”

You swallow noisily. “Roll around essentially naked in a bathtub.”

Baela nods; she doesn’t seem alarmed. Is this normal? Are you unreasonable? “Bikini?”

“Lingerie.”

“Want to know a trick?” she says. “After you shave, run a Stridex pad over your skin. I have a container of them in the bathroom cabinet, use as many as you want. It’ll burn at first, but it kills any bacteria and prevent razor burn. No bumps or ingrown hairs!”

“Thanks,” you reply weakly.

Baela squints at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” A lie.

“It’s not that bad,” she says reassuringly. “I know it seems like the end of the world, but once you do a nude scene or a sex scene once, the nerves go away and it’s just another day at work. You’ll get through it. You’ll do an incredible job.”

I don’t want to give up the dream. I don’t want to leave Los Angeles. I don’t want to leave Aegon.

“You’re probably right,” you tell Baela, and you pretend to be fine so she won’t worry, or pity you, or be further convinced that you don’t belong here.

You shower, shave, scrub your skin with stinging Stridex pads, and long after you were supposed to be asleep you’re still staring up at your bedroom ceiling, a deep blue shadowscape with no stars.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Logan and fluffy things I like to imagine with him. Part 2: electric boogaloo

logan has a soft spot for animals. He wont go absolutely out of his way i think to interact with them, but definitely has a mutual respect for them.

that being said, going for a walk with Logan, and a stray kitten comes up and absolutely WILL NOT leave logan alone. It adores him, screaming and climbing his pants. You of course insist on taking it home and logan grumbles over it but doesnt argue

cue all the moments of "dad who didnt want animal in first place" with logan as he treats it like his literally baby. Its young and still needs milk, and lots of tlc.

you wake up to him missing from bed one night, crawling out in search of him and finding him in the kitchen- babytalking and cooing the little itty bity baby kitten hes holding in his arm (imagine. Tiny kitten. Logans beefy arms. 😍) and bottle feeding it.

he gets so embarrassed when you catch him.

making him laugh. Like really. He's so stoic sometimes. hes sarcastic and has a smart mouth and really funny himself but not much gets him going

but you tell him a joke . or maybe a funny story of something that happened to you, or a funny limerick whatever okay

and he LAUGHS

its the first time you ever heard him laugh, probably the first time you ever made him laugh that wasn't a small chuckle (say you're still new to each other)

His laugh is just so warm and boisterous. It's a real peek into the kind of person Logan can be if he's in the right enviornment

that big cute smile, his low voice. that loud laugh. I mean honestly

making him laugh so hard he's crying and its uncontrollable

thats right baby girl

anyway

Logan loves listening to your heartbeat

lies on your chest and listens to it beat away. it's grounding to him, a reminder you're still here with him

Either with the X-men, or with Wades gang, Logan slowly opening up and becoming more comfortable with people- purely because YOU'RE there.

your presence reassures him so much

feeding each other

its natural too. You're just at breakfast, lunch, or dinner. you take a fork of your food, or maybe your french fries, or whatever and immediately hold it up to his mouth and he just eats it without question

Feeding him fruits, or chocolates, or a charcuterie spread AH *sigh*

Leading to having a picnic with him. He's a little unsure at first. I think depending on the logan you're picturing, or at least when you meet him, he may have points where he gets shy about dates and stuff

a picnic is one of those things. planning food and a blanket and all and it really does sound nice to him. Too nice. It feels unnatural to him and he doesn't know how to behave, maybe he doesn't think he deserves to do something so...domestic, and soft

you of course argue that "yes logan, you deserve to do picnics too."

Once you actually get him out though, he'll eventually relax, lying on the blanket, on a nice breezy yet sunny day under a large tree, arms crossed behind his head as you feed him grapes and strawberries and blueberries

"Yeah, okay, I could get use to this"

planning other dates with logan. for awhile it's something you take initiative of. But then Logan surprises you. He got you tickets to see a broadway show you've been talking about for months.

since then logan starts pulling his weight with planning dates. he always enjoyed the dates esp in the beginning. he just wasn't used to it, used to meaninglyess flings and lonelines. Sitting and trying to get to know each other was hard for logan bc he struggled opening up

for you tho he does

in a setting with the x-men, they all are amazed how easily logan trusts you. Even as just friends.

you do whatever to him and he just accepts it. He doesn't flinch. or scoff. or tell you to fuck off (sorry Scott. i know you were just asking for the salt). He'll give you his witty and sarcastic remarks but they tend to be a lot nicer and sweeter

he looks at you with a softness they're all confused by

well except jean and charles, they both see what's going on in his head. it's sweet actually

ororo actually picks up on it pretty quickly too

Scotts the one who's just confused but prob bc he gets the most abuse

sorry again scott

okay, not really a logan fluff relationship but honestly logan and scott becoming semi friends? I feel like hard feelings and annoyances aside, they could really get along. I don't know much about Scotts character but i feel like they're both men who can be great leaders and genuinely care about their people. Logan and Scott putting aside differences and going out for a guys night at a bar. Maybe some other X-men join to, but Scott and Logan talk a lot

Meanwhile you, Jean, Ororo, and a few other girls have a girls night

Logan opening up to Scott about how he feels about you (you're still friends at this point), he doesn't outright say that he's scared to make a move, mainly because he's scared of hurting you in more ways than one

Scott gives him a pep talk, male bonding. of course they end the night insulting each other but on the bright note they seem to come to an understanding

Logan is a very attentive boyfriend. He may act aloof sometimes but he notices EVERYTHING. Don't be surprised that your birthday and christmas gifts are always exactly the things you wanted even if you hadn't told anyone you wanted them.

You're teaching a class and logan stops by to give you something. He gives you a kiss in front of the class without thinking, and they're all "Oooooo"ing and "Aaaw"ing over it. Logan tells them to grow up, (They're 5th graders logan)

imagine shopping together, and logan picks out clothes he thinks would be cute on you. He finds a pretty sundress and practically demands you to get it. Of course you do. He ADORES you in that sundress. His hands are never off you when you wear it

It awakens something in him and he starts buying you pretty clothes he wants to see you in. He knows your size by heart, he knows what materials you like and what you hate, and the colors you despise on you (even tho he thinks you look good in everything)

Kissing each space of his hands where the claws come out. It's a gesture of love and trust. Logans scared of you doing it, afraid he'd somehow lose control but you reassure him. Now he loves it, and it truly makes him think that maybe he isn't such a monster if you could love him like that

You do his laundry for him. It's not like he asked you or that he doesn't keep the laundry up himself, you just do it, acts of service being your love language and he comes home and finds you did it and hes kinda shook because like...wow? being taken care of? it was so simply. its just laundry. But damn

Speaking of, doing laundry together.

I want to do laundry with Worst! Logan, we go to some 24 hour laundromat. maybe just neighbors but you've been flirting with each other, and consider each other good friends, the implication of something more. You're laughing and you guys have the place to yourselves. Logan feels safer than he has in a long time with you. Maybe share your first kiss, at 1 am in the laundromat.

I like to think about late nights in your study with Trilogy Logan, he hangs out with you, he already has trouble sleeping, and just loves your sweet company. Your conversations turn deep, maybe you had a recent mission that turned rough, and it literally turns into a love confession by Logan. You return the feelings, and he asks "Are you sure about me?", and you respond to him with an eager kiss, your arms embracing each other in the way those old romantic movies when they kiss (I use to be so grossed out by those and now I would love nothing more *dreamy sigh*)

I want to comfort Old Man Logan, maybe he had a really bad day, and disappears. You get Caliban to watch Charles for the night while you search for him, and you find him at a bar he usually frequents. Hes gruff but polite and tells you to go home and go to bed, but you urge him to come back with you. Eventually you get him to agree to at least come walk with you down the streets. He doesn't know how, but you draw out of him his worries, his fears - and they mainly revolve around you, this sweet little thing who came into this fucked up life of his. You reassure him that you wouldn't want to be anywhere else, and you end up kissing him. He's shocked you like an old man like him, but...he'll take what he can get.

I want to be 70s DOFP Logan friend first, hes a menace, and he has fallen hopelessly in love with you. Much to your obliviousness, you think he's still a Casanova out in the bars- but hes spending his nights thinking about you. One night he has enough, and rides on his motorcycle down in the pouring rain and thunderstorm. He's at your doorstep and you open the door to this sopping wet creature and the first thing he says "I'm in love with you." with water dripping down his face. Then he pulls you into a searing kiss. (im writing a fic about this btw)

With Future DOFP Logan, he would meet you, a new professor at the school, and he's quickly taken aback. After some quite hellish adventures he's been on, you were a fresh breath of air for him. You both fall into something of relationship without realizing it- because it came so naturally. It's only one day you're talking to him, outside on the patio and he's smiling softly listening to you and he leans forward and pecks you on the lips. you look at him in surprise, before grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a real kiss

Origins! Logan takes you out on a romantic date, because he's classy like that. you share your first kiss over dinner, something sweet, and you could feel him smiling against your lips. He does it again after dinner, when he takes you home like a gentleman, you can feel his eagerness when he kisses you again, like he's trying to control himself, and he finally pulls away and wishes you goodnight (i mean, you're gonna have to invite him in)

97' Logan! He's giving you a pep talk after some bad shit went down on a mission, you feel like you could've done better, could've done more, even if everything you did do was enough. He's being unusually sweet and supportive and you leaned over and kissed him. You're surprised at yourself, but Logan isn't. He chuckles, telling you he gets it, he's irresistable, but then he kisses you again and can't stop (whos the irresistable one NOW Logan??)

I didn't mean for those to turn into first kisses prompts but enjoy. I have so many ideas of how first kisses with logan could go, these are just a few of many

pecking his cheek and his beard scratching your lips, but you actually really like how it feels

him rubbing and scratching his beard all over you to mess with you. It tickles but he's pinning you down and you're shrieking.

He keeps a picture of you on him at all times.

he loves hearing your stories. he wants to listen to you yap. he loves when you yap. even if it's useless stuff, the way you seem to enjoy and live life the way he never had before, he just can't get enough

helping him with his suit, you're zipping him up, but you press several kisses up his spine as you are zipping him. your lips sends shivers through him

helping him with a fancy suit. like suit and tie, (this would be cute for old man logan!). he's grumping and frumping about wearing it, but then you tell him how handsome he looks, and he smiles, and suddenly he's not so grumpy about it.

logan pressing soft kisses all over your face. bonus if it's after he hadn't seen you for awhile

okay but imagine after yall been together for awhile, maybe talking about getting a house together...

you guys "just look"

logan doesn't like anything. So he convinces charles to give him some land and goes and secretly builds a house for you. he recruits help from some others. he hires a designer to be able to get the parts he noticed you liked

you have NO idea. A year later, maybe 2, he brings you to it, and you're like "When did this house get here" and he tells you everything

logan definitely doesn't think things are "too much" when it comes to his devotion to you lets just say.

These are all i got for now! Keep an eye out for pt 3 :)

[simps-4-russian-assassains]

Nobody has asked but here’s my head canons of what instrument each character would/‘ve played if/when they were in high school… basically high school Band AU (? I have no idea what I’m doing)

Elliot Stabler: Trumpet (look at that man and tell me he doesn’t look like he would play the trumpet, like come on his posture screams that plus of course military but I digress)

Olivia Benson: Bass Clarinet (her mother feels like she wouldn’t allow her much choice in which instrument she could play. So her choices would be either flute or clarinet becuz her mom wouldn’t want to deal with the noise. And so she picks clarinet but then highschool comes around she’s starting to want to distance herself from her mom and the band needs a bass clarinet… two birds one stone)

Melinda Warner: Saxophone (She’s a part of the group, but she feels slightly separated. You don’t worry about her becuz you know she can do her job. She gives the cool energy of the quiet saxophone kid that kept the band together. *Fun Fact, she is what inspired me to do this whole list becuz I watched the episode where it’s mentioned she was Air Force and just immediately knew she was in the Air Force Band*)

John Munch: Percussion/mallets (dude gives he learned piano as a kid and so can do mallets, and he gives vibes of percussionist that you have no control of his attention in the back of the room *He’s talking about his conspiracy theories* the vibes are there)

Odafin Tutuola (can’t spell it): Percussion/Toys (he gives crash cymbals… idk what to say, he looks like he’d be able to do the cool tricks *how he got his nickname, cuz the cymbals are his fins* and his relationship with Munch screams the old married couple of the section)

Alex Cabot: French Horn (look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think Alex *Hi, Uncle Bill* *Nepo Baby* Cabot wouldn’t play a stick up the ass instrument? But also play it so beautifully, and she gives the vibes dammit)

Rita Calhoun: French Horn (same reasons as above but also throwing in her and Alex’s friendly rivalry always fighting over first chair)

Casey Novak: Percussion/Trap Set/Quads/timpanis (Ok so she’s a bit more complicated. The swagger? Gives percussion. Her passion? Personality? Gives more then one drum at a time. And so I had to have one per season of band *Marching, Jazz/Concert, and Concert* I’ll include headcanons at the end if you need some mental imagery)

Amanda Rollins: Flute? (Open to contestments, only started rewatching SVU and so haven’t rewatched newer seasons yet, I can be persuaded on anything with her)

Sonny Carisi: Drum Major (the way he holds himself, and his presence within the squad, he’s a multi trick pony *Detective and ADA*)

Rafael Barba: Bass Drum (His presence is solid and consistent. He himself doesn’t necessarily need to be loud, he’s a constant solid beat, constantly moving them forward.)

George Hyuang: Clarinet (he reminds me of people I went to school with who played clarinet *In a good way* more evidence later on.)

Donald Cragen: He’s the director (obviously he’s the one in “charge”, he just gives director energy *its the dad energy* but when he was in band he play percussion specifically the toys, like triangle and cowbell)

Liz Donnelly: PTA Mom/Trombone (When she was in school? She played trombone, it fits the vibe of her being a girl/woman trying to fit in a stereotypical “boy/men” role. And I can see her trying to showboat act tough with it… idk I can talk more about what I mean but 🤷🏼‍♀️. But she also gives extreme PTA Mom vibes. But like in the way that she’s actually in charge, she’s keeping everyone alive. In the “well Cragen won’t care that much’ ‘but Donnelly is gonna kill us”, idk I see her with her 80s hair with a turtle neck sweater with a “I’m with the band” t-shirt over it, doing all the extra stuff… she’s band mom)

Lena Petrovsky: Choir Director (has to deal with their shenanigans, if needed can reign students in, must chaperone on most trips. She hates them, but she tolerates the few kids that are in both band and choir)

I’ll happily take suggestions… on most of them… I’ll hear anyone’s opinion about it

[librarianandguardian]

The Balconies - Viktor x Fem!Reader

Music : Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Tears for Fears

Pairing : S1 Viktor x Assistant Fem!Reader

Word count : 2.1K

Warnings : Mentions of Anxiety and Self Worth doubts, Shy Fluff

A.N : Helloooo It's meee. Am I popping up to then disappear again for a whole other year ? Yeeeeezzz probably. Needed to help my brain work through a break-up and work problems so I went to Viktor for comfort. It worked really well ! This is quite reflective and full of thoughts. I hope I did not make mistakes with portraying Viktor's disability. Do tell if you see anything, I'm keen on learning :)

A French version is up on my Wattpad account right here.

This party was as expected : extravagant and noisy. You cursed yourself to have agreed to the boys’ proposition. Jayce had been more insistent than Viktor, who wasn't too enthusiastic either, your Hex Tech assistant status forced you to be here tonight. Bollocks. You only stuck to the shadows. Because in the end, you hadn't done much besides stand by them, and be on the front row for their speech. No one minded you and they were right : who cares about the assistant of the two geniuses of the decade? The men themselves were here. The loud chatter of the room, the dense sea of people, the many invasive perfumes of the upper class, the boys out in the wild somewhere… The darker the night got, the more you felt out of place. You ended next to the buffet, mouth always full, champagne glasses after glasses, then topping it off with fruit juice. Overwhelmed, you fled to the first balcony available.

Would you rather be at the lab, tidying notes and books they had thrown everywhere to prepare for the speech? Absolutely. Considering how long it would be. But also because the low humming of their machines soothed you. Their cold coffee mugs told you they had a breakthrough. The couch still smelled like Jayce's expensive cologne and Viktor's shampoo (when he finally rested). The Moonshine piercing through the window, lighting the empty place up, made you happy. This lab was your second chance. New friends came into your life ; the boys and Sky, their other assistant. She was extremely sweet compared to the brutal science world. You guys became each other's complaints desk and laugh station. Even though you were the one who needed pity, being Jayce's direct assistant, housekeeper and community manager, you always listened to her trials with Viktor. The resilience of the young man from the Undercity fascinated you. The places he got to in so little time… You remembered your time at the Academy, his name like a whisper in the hallways. He was a mystery to be solved back in the days.

You sighed. This party congratulated your partners for their hard work, their passion. But it was also protocol. None of them rejoiced in being here. All these manners and fake smiles. Not the ideal place for scientists. At least that's what you guessed from Viktor's face all night long. He thought he hid them well, but your keen eye caught it. Unlike Jayce masking his uneasiness with class, thanks to his birth rank and natural charisma. How you would've slapped this "perfect" child. Friendly slaps, that is.

With tired eyes, you took the time to look at this Wonderful city, where your lives unfolded. During this sweet starry night, the streets of Piltover were dressed in blue and golden hues. The colors of new technology, of progress. Her people strolled, celebrating this growth with tiny markets, exhibitions and small street art shows. All this light hid the sea, you could guess with the moon shining on its horizon. The veins of the city were loud with joy, but not enough for you to hear, only feel. Everyone was happy tonight. Then a small nervous laugh escaped your mouth. With all this, you realised something : the task of maintaining the public image of your two devils was yours. For good.

Shit.

You were gonna have to watch out for their potential public bad behavior. If any problem related to that occurred, you’d have to cover it. They would have to be more often shown in public with a clean look. No more dishevelled science boys.

Your head spinned with all this. Or was the champagne at fault ? No, you knew why you quivered. Your breath got quicker. What were you doing ? Close to entering a thought spiral, the door of the balcony being shut and a sigh saved you from it. Startled, you turn around. Half hunched on his cane and visibly irritated, Viktor walked painfully. He was muttering unfamiliar profanities. You giggled, capturing his attention. At the sight of your smile, he eased and joined you. A small hysteria took you both out of breath, only to stop a few dozen seconds later. The scientist had to sit on one of the benches next to the railing, shaken. His knee having slightly twitched, you came closer in case he needed anything. He sat with ease and wiped some tears off.

« ‘Tis all very ridiculous. Truly. »      he sighed with a thick accent.

Your head tilted. He was right of course, but something had to have happened to him. For Viktor to isolate away from Jayce, much was needed. The man wasn’t shy, more socially averse when it didn’t concern work. He hit the ground with his cane to calm down.

« A young daughter of some rich investor has been courting me for more than an hour now, through thick spider-like lashes- Ugh. »

With a reassuring smile, you patted his hands. The poor dear was NOT into marriage and love stories.

« It’ll soon be your new life. To the both of you, dear.

-Mmm, New Hell on Earth you mean. »

You giggled once more. The corners of your eyes wrinkled as they closed, one of your hands hiding your mouth, your nose scrunching. Viktor took in every bit of your false mockery with a grin. Saying you made life easier was down playing the truth. Mediator, Janitor, Nanny when he started to neglect himself. You had been a hurricane of salvation in their bachelor lab; making sure things were in their place, easy to find with their thought process and for the place to be clean after every project. You crossed none of the boundaries established, giving them air until a signature was needed, or an investor answered. Your soft smile, your caustic humor and laughs soothed the hardest day. Empty coffee mug? Never. No meal for 2 days straight? 'You are unbelievable! Eat if you want fuel for your damn brain to properly think.' 

Sometimes your sadness and loneliness caught up to you. Your face closed when you came in, nearly incapable of speaking. You stayed in a corner, eyes glossy with tears, looking out a window. Or you vanished to the bathroom for a while. They were unsure of what to do, but tried. Viktor went with jokes; it worked pretty often. Jayce regularly served you your favorite hot beverage. But when it was too much, Sky came to the rescue. Team dynamics were important; you guys had a good one.

The young man would be lying if he denied loving every evening spent together, alone. A comfortable silence, you watching him, being curious. Or working until you fell asleep headfirst on the table, under a small dim light. Only to abruptly wake up and push him to go home or at least get on the couch. He rarely declined.

When you calmed down, you cleared your throat.

« I'm happy that you find my situation most amusing, darling. »

You winced at his eyebrow raised in false vexation. Arms behind your back, you nonchalantly looked around. Your feet brought you back to the railing.

« I wouldn't dare.

-Oh, I think you would. I know your antics now. »

With this, he got back up and joined you. Your arms on the railing, he took it as an opportunity to lean against your shoulder, hovering his leg in the air. You relaxed against him and breathed. Your stares marveled at the chaos in the streets, ghosts of smiles haunting your mouths at the comfort of each other's presence. The party behind you almost forgotten. You used to live on the outskirts of Piltover, just in front of the bridges that led to the Undercity. You saw the dirt, the grim, the violence. Viktor lived within it, making you both hate high society, fakers and sweet talk. You would have given everything to wander down there with the crowd, watching life buzz. Viktor would have loved to sit on the docks facing his home, ranting with you and sweets.

His head turned towards you. Your eyes glistened, far away on the horizon, your breath hitched, your jaw clenched. Smoke could have come out of your ears. The train had departed the station. What could he do? One day, you had discussed fears surrounding the project, your place in the team. You loved science but stayed an artist at heart. Your studies had been followed on the opposite side of the Academy; in the grand luminous Art Classes, the Workshops of Piltover. He had heard of rumors back in his days : a young rebellious woman, bullied by insidious comrades, but who finally rose to the rank of assistant to the Dean of the Workshops. The only common room you shared was the library. There, you only acknowledged each other with quick nods. When he got up the ladder too, you’d cross paths more often. Talked too. Then you disappeared. For months. He'd often mention the incident to Sky. She'd stay evasive on the matter. All of a sudden, you appeared. Just when Heimerdinger went looking for an additional assistant for the Hextech Project. Theories blossomed in his head. At every given opportunity, he’d study you. To no avail. The satisfaction of actually getting to know you overshadowed his need for answers. Yes, mentioning this wouldn’t help. If you had not confided in him, there had to be a valid reason.

« Miss ? »

Viktor was scared you would break into a million pieces in front of him. Small tears were streaming down your cheeks. He had to call you softly for a solid minute. When his voice pierced your mental fog, your eyes widened at his. You flinched at his intensity. But he brought you back. One of his hands grabbed your left forearm, to keep you anchored.

« Long tiring days are ahead of us. Things will become more complex. Jayce and I are aware of that. And… I believe you too. It's poisoning your mind. »

You briefly looked at his hand. Since he helped you come back to reality, your five senses were calm. Your mind focused on his voice. You met his sweet honey eyes again. He seemed to carefully pounder his next words. Should he talk about it all? The fright, the exhaustion, the hesitation, everything seemed conflicted in you. Soothing was wiser.

« I- I trust you. You proved us you are a pillar of our project. Your kindness and skills might not be poured into the science itself, but science alone cannot hold this dream together. There also is the hope we pour in it. All of us. »

You silently bursted into tears, unmoving.

« I do not know what happened in the past, what they told you. But you are competent. More than a lot of us. Your worries are justified, but they will be erased. I promise you. Otherwise, I'll hunt them down with my cane, partner. »

You snorted. His hand patted your arm, proud of his motivation speech. He began to understand something. This was the way Sky comforted you, how you did it for her too. He had always thought it hard to do, but everything came from his heart. His truth, his feelings. Determination took over his gaze. With a few minutes of silence, you were able to put your mind together, the scientist next to you, joking around, leaning on the railing like a bachelor. At peace, you inspected the lit-up streets again. 

« Thank you Viktor. »

He nodded, scratching his neck.

« How you would feel if we… ran away from this horrendous noisy place? »

You stared, flabbergasted. Nervous, he shrugged.

« Jayce has the crowd’s attention. I wish to flee this aristocrat and you quite obviously don't want to be here. Let’s change, get some food and sit elsewhere. In a calmer, more familiar place. »

You considered it, still shocked. One of the co-founders of Hextech fleeing the launch party? That would be bad. Especially with an assistant. However, the crowd was dense and captivated. And the young man's knee seemed to hurt him; his knuckles were white around his cane. Well. You had a plan. 

« Let's get out of here, partner.» You said, grabbing his arm.

Maybe life would not be too hard. Your team could survive it all. Those thoughts were left to linger in the dark. The balcony you had invested at the party did have a beautiful view. But it could never compare to the laboratory’s one. Sitting next to Viktor. Bundled up in warm clothes, with hot beverages and snacks, under the moon and stars.

[somegrumpynerd]

Hiii, I'm here with some french onomatopoeias or onomatopées if you will because I think it's fun.

Ow, or ouch is Aïe or ouïe in french, also 'aïe aïe aïe' is like a way to say like 'oof big bad thing but not of incredible importance or maybe kinda cringy happened' so like if somebody fell off their bike, or maybe your friend just told a girl a very stupid thing.

Also, jumping into water is ploof, not splash which just sounds very funny to me.

That's all I have for the moment enjoy

PLOOF!!!!

Oh I love that, that's the most incredible word of all time, I want to add that to the list of names for if me and my sister ever get a cat lol

I like aïe too, now that I know how it's pronounced I feel like I've heard people say that before, I never realised it was french!! :o

I love little bonus french lessons, thank you!! ^^

ALSO!!!!!

Hiiii hello!! :D I hope the guests visiting went well, unless they're still there in which case I hope it's going well!!

[canisalbus]

you say machete has to be closeted then why's he always wearing them little heels

Maybe he thinks he's a tiny bit nicer looking in them.

[bogkeep]

realized something earlier today. you know that trope where bilingual characters in fiction will sprinkle their native language into english sentences? and how i personally, while i can't speak for every bilingual person on the planet, don't really see that happening in reality pretty much ever, at least not with people who are passingly fluent in english? anyway i realized i DO mix languages, just the other way. i will happily throw english words and phrases into my daily speech when chatting with my peers in norwegian or czech like it's no biggie. because we all know english here, so it makes sense to swap in words if i'm falling short! but why would i say words other people don't understand in conversation...!

[idontmindifuforgetme]

I admire girls who can pull off long nails bc it literally can never be me. I just don’t get how it works functionally

[kindaorangey]

hold on wait. wait. regime change between when show!armand leaves delhi, and when he's turned into a vampire. god. i'm thinking about his speech to madeleine, his "what will you do when there is nothing left of your era?". if he tried to visit the village he came from during his time with marius, he will likely have witnessed exactly that. within his mortal life. armand believes he is uniquely suited to endure immortal life, to adapt and survive no matter what. he might have seen the fall of the lodi dynasty while he was in his 20s; maybe that's why. but god. how devastating. his village might even have been destroyed in the fall of the lodi dynasty. what do you do if you are taken from your home and when you finally have the freedom and strength to return to it, it is unrecognisable to you. fuck.

[coquelicoq]

good morning can i show you guys the christmas card my little sister wrote me in french (she does not know any french)

joyeux Noël, j'espère que vous comprenez ce que je dis compte tenu de la fiabilité de Google Translate. Jespère qu'à l'avenir nous voir plus de deux fois par an. Je ne sais pas vraiment quoi dire d'autre, alors joyeux Noël et j'espère que papa t'a offert. Profitez également des autres choses que je mets sur la carte au lieu de vous ècrire un essai complet.

and then she wrote me a little crossword and a "connect the language to its way of saying 'merry christmas'" game 😭

[cerbreus]

baking never feels more like science to me than when i'm trying to cobble together an intricate multi step recipe together from several different recipes and tutorials online because the recipe I'm imagining doesn't exist....

[goldenstarprincesses]

ok ok I like and prefer older brother America

But i love and am obsessed with older sister America

[skitskatdacat63]

FINALLLLYYYYYYYYYYYYY YESSSSSSSS!!!!!!