#just another grand show to add to the collection

[percevalec]

His First, Your First

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x virgin!Reader

Summary: Oscar and you have been dating for years, but you were never quite ready to take things to the next step. After weeks thinking about finally showing Oscar a different type of affection you decide you're ready. What better moment to do it than after he wins the hungarian grand prix.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut, little bit of fluff, slight mention of religion, not proof read

18+, please don’t read in you’re underage

do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

Here it is, the moment you and Oscar have always looked forward to. Ever since you met in high-school all he would ever talk about was how much he wanted to become a formula one driver and win a grand prix. You always knew he would make it. He was so passionate about his dreams.

Now you’re in the McLaren garage watching him lead the final lap of the Hungarian grand prix. Sure, a few complications did happen along the way due to the awful team strategies, but it was still his moment. Your eyes filled with tears as you watched him cross the finish line. 

After all the cheers and screams of excitement in the garage, You walk out with the rest of his team watching him pull into the parc ferme.

Oscar couldn’t believe he had actually done it, won his very first grand prix. You watched as he parked his car and jumped out of the MCL38, Throwing up a fist into the air as his team mate and a few of the other drivers congratulated him. When he sees you standing with the team, a wide smile spreads across his face as he runs your way. He was lucky to have you. You always accompanied him to his F2 races and now you’re experiencing this moment with him. 

~

He practically tackled you, wrapping his arms around you as he lifted you into the air. “I did it!” He yelled as he spun you around in a hug. You hug him tighter as he places you back down on your feet. “It was about time,” you tell him with a warm smile. His arms remained around your waist as he pulled you in close, His face bright pink and glistening with sweat. “You don't understand, that was the best feeling of my life!” Oscar spoke fast, words blending together as the excitement coursed through his body. “I couldn't have done it without you, you've been here since the beginning” 

“I’ll always be here for you, buuut you need to go now” you say caressing his face remembering he still has to do the post race interview. Oscar looked into your eyes for a few seconds, not wanting to leave your side but knowing he needed to go. “Come here, just for a second” he mumbled as he pulled you in for a quick kiss “okay, i'll see you at the podium” you respond before oscar leaves to get interviewed. 

After a whirlwind of media interviews, the podium ceremony was finally happening. Oscar climbed to the top step accepting his medal and trophy. You watched in admiration as you make eye contact, mouthing “I love you”. He replies with a soft smile. 

Oscar immediately sprays Lando and Lewis with the champagne as he celebrates. He looked down on you again and grinned as he sprayed the champagne in your direction. You gasp at the feeling of champagne raining down on you. Oscar chuckled to himself as he saw you getting drenched.

Once the ceremony was finished, Oscar quickly walked over to you still holding his trophy. “Another to add to the collection” you say looking at the beautiful ceramic. “It’ll look amazing with the others“ he responds looking at the trophy then back at you, laughing when he sees how soaked you actually were. “Sorry babe, couldn't hold back.” “shut up” you say nudging him jokingly “Thankfully I have a change of clothes in my bag” Oscar nodded at your statement and began leading you through the garage making your way to his drivers room. His palm pressed on your lower back. 

“We’ll definitely have to shower together after this” Oscar teased as he opened the door to his drivers room, letting you enter first. “Oh, definitely” You respond to his offer. Oscar followed you in and closed the door behind him. He changed out of his race suit before sitting down on the small bed in the room. His eyes glued on you as you stripped off your wet clothes. 

“Stop staring” you tease, putting on a flowy dress. 

Oscar chuckled to himself and let out a huff “How am i supposed to stop staring when i'm looking at my beautiful girl” he teased back. His eyes looking you up and down admiring every inch that was exposed. “You're making this hard you know”

 “Yeah?” you replied in a flirty tone as you walked over, stopping a few inches away from him. 

He nodded, still staring at your figure. “Very hard” he spoke, his words almost a whisper. He ran a hand through his hair, before looking at you in the eye, giving you a small smirk. “Sit down” He patted the spot beside him gently, still not moving his gaze. You obey and sit next to him. Oscar quickly grabs your legs and places them on top of his, making you turn slightly. His palm gently rested on your thighs, his thumb slowly stroking your skin.

Oscar and you have tried to have sex before, but you were never fully ready to take it there just yet. Both of you were still at the start of your careers and you didn't want to risk a possible pregnancy. You were also just scared about the situation, growing up religious made you view the act in a weird way. But you really didn’t think about it in bad way anymore, you trusted Oscar with your body.

Both of you were quiet for a while, just enjoying each other's presence. “You know it's hard for me to keep my hand off of you” Oscar murmured, his eyes now locked on yours. You smile at him and lean in for a kiss. Oscar's eyes widened slightly in surprise, before a smile took over his lips. His hand moving from your thigh to the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. His tongue exploring your mouth, tasting every inch as his other hand gripped your hip and tugged you closer to him. 

Pulling away from the kiss you look up at him. Slightly breathless you say “You won” in a soft whisper with a smile. Oscar let out a small chuckle, his hand holding you close. “I did, didn't i” He replied quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “Winning a race makes you feel very…” he paused to look at you up and down “excited.. Maybe even cocky”. You laughed softly “Don't let it get to your head” you say teasingly. Oscar hummed, the small laugh that you let out caused his heart to skip a beat. “That's easier said than done” He responds jokingly. “But now that I've won and got you all to myself, what should I do?” He asked as his smirk returned. 

“Maybe i can be your winning reward” You respond, repositioning yourself. Oscar's breath hitches as you climb onto him, straddling his lap. His hands quickly move to settle on your waist, and hold you in place. A quiet gasp leaving his lips as he felt your body press against his “i suppose that’d make it a double win for me” He mumbled before his hand began wandering your body. 

You lock eyes with his before speaking “i've been thinking about this the past few weeks and… i think im ready” you say, your voice low almost a whisper. Oscar was slightly caught off guard, not knowing you would take the conversation there. He didn’t hate the idea of it. “You have?” He asked, his tone soft but hopeful. He looked at you, taking in your beautiful face and sparkling eyes. His fingers subconsciously tightening around your waist “Are you sure?” he asks. You respond nodding your head and smiling. Oscar couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto his face. In fact, it was like your words had flicked a switch inside of him. His arms moved from your waist, quickly removing you off of him, placing you back down on the bed as he stood. He walked over to the door and locked it. “I don’t think we’ll be leaving for a while.” He mumbled, his eyes fixed on you. He walked back to the bed and positioned himself between your legs. He was now on top of you as you laid down. You smile, slightly nervous since this was your first time. “Be gentle Osc” you say caressing his cheek. “Of course, I’ll be gentle.” He promises as he hovers over you. 

Oscar’s hands gently grab the hem of your dress and slowly begin raising it. He removes your dress and throws it on the floor, before bringing a hand to caress your skin. “You’re so beautiful.” He says quietly. You smile at the words of affirmation. You were honestly looking forward to this moment, You didn't know when it was exactly going to happen. But it being after Oscar’s first race win doesn't seem un-romantic.

~

Oscar’s hands explore your body, gently caressing your stomach and sides. His eyes drinking the sight of you lying beneath him.

His lips slowly began to work their way down your neck, trailing soft kisses all the way down to your collarbone. You whine at his actions, The feeling already making you feel good. Oscar smirks into the crook of your neck as he hears the small whine escape your lips, a noise that he wants to hear more of. He continues to leave a trail of kisses all over your upper body, while one of his hands begins to tug on your underwear. Oscar pulled away from kissing your neck as he completely removed your panties before discarding them on the floor, leaving you in nothing but a bra. He looked you up and down, admiring your body. He couldn’t help but just stare for a moment. You were simply perfect to him.

“So much for just getting dressed” You joke. Oscar chuckled and shook his head. “This is a much better sight than you wearing clothes.” He teased, his eyes roaming your almost naked body. He began to run his hands up your legs, slowly and gently caressing your skin. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous, I could stare at you all day and never get bored.”

His hands continued to travel higher, slightly lifting you up so he could unclasp your bra. His eyes looked into yours, silently seeking confirmation. You nod, grabbing his face and giving him a quick kiss. A small grin spread across Oscar’s face as you gave him the confirmation. His fingers unhooked your bra and began to slowly pull it off. He watched as the piece of clothing slowly came off and was added to the growing pile on the floor before his eyes went back to you. You gasp at the sudden feel of cold air. You've exposed yourself to him before but this time it felt different. Oscar chuckled at the gasp you let out, the sight of you naked and laying on the bed causing a surge of excitement inside his body. He gently released you, your back now touching the bed again. His chest so close to yours, the heat from his skin immediately spreading to you. “Are you still sure you’re ready?” He whispered

“Yes Oscar i’m sure” You respond. Oscar leaned back and stripped off his shirt, discarding it with your clothes he’d previously removed. He pressed himself back against you, his body feeling warm and firm against your skin. “If you want to stop, for any reason, just say so. Don’t push yourself.” He mumbled as his lips grazed your collarbone. “Mhm”' you say in response. Oscar’s hands began roaming your body again, his touch soft and gentle. “'I've wanted you for so long, you have no idea.” He spoke quietly. As he continued to caress your body, he slowly began to roll his hips grinding against you, letting you feel him. You moan at the action. Oscar let out a low groan as he heard the noise that came from you. His hips rolled against yours again, a bit harder this time. How could you have possibly waited this long, you think to yourself. 

Oscar loves the sounds that are coming out of you. His hips rolling against you again and again. He wanted to hear how far he could push you before you begged him to take you. Oscar placed a light kiss on your cheek before trailing down to your neck again, leaving little marks. “Please Osc, i need you” You manage to say in between all the sounds of pleasure coming from your lips. The plead you spoke almost has a possessive effect on Oscar. More rushes of excitement run through his body. “You have me. All of me.” He promises before his lips meet yours. He continues to grind against you, making sure you feel exactly how much you're affecting him. 

Oscars kisses become hungrier, more passionate. His tongue teasing your bottom lip, before slipping into your mouth gently caressing your tongue. All the while, his hips continue to move against yours, slowly getting more and more desperate as he seeks friction.

“Need you inside me” You whine, trying to keep quiet, afraid someone outside might hear. Oscar groans and nods, his body practically screaming for the same thing. “Are you sure?” He mumbles against your lips, needing to hear you say it one more time before going further. You nod your head looking up at him “please” you whisper. 

Oscar lifts himself off of you, a deep breath escaping his lips. He takes a moment to look at you, laid out beneath him, completely bare and needy. He got off the bed removing his jeans, reaching for his bag, pulling out a small foil packet which he quickly opened before tossing the wrapper on the floor and removing his boxers. His hand trembled slightly as he rolled the condom on, his eyes constantly looking back at you. Oscar’s heart rate quickened as he took a deep breath and positioned himself on top of you again. Your eyes met his, both of your pupils blown out due to the adrenalin. Oscar kisses your cheek as you feel him insert himself in you. A gasp leaves your lips at the foreign feeling, clawing your nails on his shoulder to stop yourself from making too much noise. Oscar whines as he feels your nails digging into his skin, adding a slight pinch of pain to the pleasure. A low moan leaves his lips as he pushes his hips forwards, completely filling you up. His forehead rests on your shoulder. “I love you. So much.” Oscar whispers in your ear, his voice low and shaky as he begins to slowly move his hips. His lips moved to your neck, leaving hot and messy kisses. After a few moments his thrusts start feeling addicting, the slight pain being completely washed over by the pleasure everyone talks about.

Oscar watches your face, seeing the expression it makes as you start to feel more pleasure. His lips found their way to your ear, whispering soft words in between ragged breaths. “Does it feel good babe? Do you like the way I feel?” He mumbles, desperate to hear more noises from you. “Fuck yes Oscar, dont stop” you cry out, overwhelmed by the felling. “I won’t stop, not until you’re a writhing mess beneath me.” Oscar groaned in your ear as he began to move a bit faster, the sounds of the bed moving filling the room.

His hands grabbed your hips, holding onto them as he pressed his nose against your neck. “You feel so good. So good for me.” He whispered between kisses. All you can do is smile at his compliment. It's like you were drunk on him, not planning to get sober anytime soon. The noises you're making are like music to his ears, and he wanted to coax more from you. 

He began to change the angle of his thrusts, moving faster and a bit rougher as he sought to bring you the greatest pleasure. “Let me hear you, don’t hold back.” He mumbled in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. A few thrust later and you were a screaming mess. In this state nothing would be able to silence your larynx. “Oscar i think i'm going to …” you trail off moaning at the feeling of getting close to unraveling. The words that came from you just encouraged Oscar to double his efforts. He picked up the pace, his hips moving faster and deeper inside you, determined to push you over the edge.

“That’s it love, just let go. I’ve got you.” He whispered, his breath coming out in ragged gasps against your skin. “Cum for me. Make a mess for me”. Hearing his words sent you over the edge. Arching your back as you came undone. Oscar whines, the feeling of you clenching down on him was almost too much causing a guttural moan to escape his lips. 

He continued to move his hips, riding out your orgasm, trying to prolong your pleasure. His face buried in your neck, muffling the sounds coming from him. “Just like that, you look so beautiful like this.” He mumbled in your ear. Small whines leave your lips. Oscar’s thrusts slowly began to slow as he helped you come down from your high. His hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing anywhere he could get his hands on. “You did so well love.” He whispered against your skin, placing soft kisses on your neck and shoulder. “You feel so good, you’re perfect”. 

His body stayed pressed against yours, his chest heaving against your own. He didn’t want to move or pull away yet, he just wanted to stay like this for as long as he could.  “I love you so much.” He spoke into your ear, his arms wrapping tight around you, the thought of letting go physically pained him. “I love you too” you reply with a smile.

“But I want to make you feel good now” You say as you push Oscar onto his back. You're not sure what took over you, but you felt like you could be good at riding him if you tried. Oscar is taken by surprise when you push him onto his back. He stares at you with wide eyes, his chest rising and falling as he takes in the sight of you above him. “Yeah?” He mumbled with a smirk. His hand gently rested on your hip, his thumb softly rubbing your skin. His eyes followed your every move as he tried to control the racing thoughts in his head. He could feel his heart thumping just from the anticipation. “Mhm'' you respond as you grinded against him, Your silk making it easy for Oscar to slide into you. A gasp escaped his lips when you wrapped around him. His head tilted back against the pillows as he felt how warm and tight you were. His fingers gripping your hips as his body craved you. “That feels..” He mumbled, trying to find the words as pleasure took over his mind. His fingertips slightly loosen his grasp as he lets you begin to move at your own pace.

You noticed Oscar's breathing was soft and shaky as he watched your every move. Moans leaving both of your lips with every movement of your hips.

The sounds of your bodies moving together fill the room along with the noises that escape your mouths. His hips occasionally bucked against yours, desperate for more friction as his body tensed up. Your head was swimming with pleasure as you looked down at him. The only person you'd want to do this with. The person you knew you never wanted to let go of.

The tension in his body kept climbing higher and higher. The tightness in his stomach almost unbearable as the heat in his face grew. His breathing became more ragged and his eyes shut tightly as he felt the pleasure growing. He struggled to form a coherent sentence as he mumbled in time with your movements. He let out a small plea of your name and his voice cracked when he spoke. “I’m.. close.” was all he could manage to say through his heavy breaths. You pick up your speed using his chest as support. The sensation of you around him and your skin against his pushed him even closer to the edge. His grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your softer flesh as he moved you against him. His voice shook as he spoke “Fuck babe, I’m almost-” He was cut off by his own moan. The words got caught in his throat as his head tilted back against the sheets. His eyes clenched shut as his entire body tensed underneath you. He whispered your name as his climax hit him harder than he expected. He pulled you down against his body as his eyes rolled back. His breathing was unsteady as his body slowly calmed down. His heart pounded in his chest as he laid beneath you. He couldn’t think of anything else besides the beautiful person on top of him. 

You slowly get off him, whining at the feeling of emptiness. Oscar removed the condom carefully as he was still a bit on edge. You cuddle up next to him as he pulls a blanket over both of you. Oscar buries his face in the crook of your neck. His nose brushes against your skin as he breathes you in, the soft scent of you calming to him. He plants small kisses on your skin as his arms wrapped around you and held you close. Every inch of his body ached for you, he held you against him as though fearing that you’d disappear if he let go. “I love you” you said as you trailed your hand up and down his chest. His lips moved to your cheek, giving you multiple kisses. His eyes looked into yours as he spoke in a gentle whisper. “ I love you too.” He mumbled now kissing the tip of your nose. He let out a shaky laugh as he buried his face once more in your neck. “And I never want to let you go.” He adds quietly, his words muffled by your skin. “Well I don't plan on going anywhere” You chuckle. Oscar’s arms tightened around you as he heard the words you spoke. His heart fluttered against his chest as his lips found yours in a deep kiss. 

“This was honestly the best day of my life.” He replied softly after pulling away. His arms stayed wrapped around you. “I love you.” He mumbled once more, never seeming to get enough of telling you that.

You were content with the decision you made that day, You loved Oscar and you wouldn't have wanted this any other way. 

[yunholuvrr]

muse

summary: Your friend Hongjoong just held a show for his new fashion line and invited you to photograph the event, but one model catches your eye more than any of the clothes on the runway.

pairing: yunho x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

genre: smut, model!yunho, fashion designer!hongjoong, photographer!reader

warnings: explicit smut minors dni, petnames (baby, love, princess), big dick yunho, semi-public sex???? pretty tame i think, lmk if i should add anything

note: taking a break from we all need love to indulge in my feelings for cosmopolitan yunho oh my GAWD he's so fine.... & i did not proofread sorry for any typos

You've worn many hats since you graduated. Interning at various clothing companies, freelance photography picking up gigs from friends and classmates, and a brief stunt as a journalist. It only makes sense that all your jobs have led to you standing in front of a glowing runway, camera propped and ready for the first model to walk out, people rushing by as they settle into their front row seats.

Not every classmate of yours was doing well in the fashion industry, but one in particular was making waves, if this event was anything to go by. Kim Hongjoong, the designer that came out of nowhere.

You chuckle at the marketing of your old friend. Anyone who knew him would know he was born to design clothes, hell, if you didn't know him you'd only have to take one look at his closet. But in the grand scheme of things, a man's gender inclusive line going viral after only 2 years in the industry is pretty unheard of.

The lights dim and you focus on your camera's digital screen, quadruple checking all your settings. Hongjoong was your biggest client during your freelancing days, and your gig tonight was to capture his show for press. Usually you'd just be doing personal events like weddings or birthdays, but these would be seen be anyone and everyone in the industry. To say you were nervous would be an understatement.

One model after another appears on stage, making their rounds in all types of bold, complex outfits. His work wasn't really your style, you preferred to keep it simple and comfortable, but it's hard to deny its appeal. The models he invited showed the pieces off amazingly, too. They worked on all body types and proportions, which you made sure to capture in every photo.

One man in particular stood out to you as you took every shot you could. He looked more like a traditional model, tall and thin, lean and muscular in all the right places. He could get a job anywhere he tried. The charisma oozing from his face was infectious. A few dark strands of hair fell in front of his rhinestone speckled eyes, which seemed to make eye contact with every single person in the room. His cupid's bow was sharp, and the smirk he sent to your lens in particular had you nearly forgetting to press the shutter release.

"That's a wrap!" A man calls from behind you. The stage lights finally fade and the crowd dissipates, leaving you and a handful of other staff to pack up. You sit on a nearby stool, squinting at the small screen and clicking through your photos. Before you can get very far through your collection, someone taps you on the shoulder.

"After party in an hour babes," Hongjoong chirps next to you, "you're invited. Thanks for the excellent photos tonight."

"You haven't even seen them yet," you chuckle and finish packing up, resolving to get ready for the party despite the exhaustion you feel at the back of your mind.

He smacks your arm playfully before insisting that every photo you've ever taken has been perfect. "By the way, did any of the models catch your eye?"

"Is there a correct answer or do you want my honest thoughts?" You pierce right through your friend's shenanigans. Hongjoong has always been quite the matchmaker among your friends, although you wouldn't call it his most successful hobby. It's almost like he just picks two names out of a hat and decides they would look good together.

He only shakes his head, "I really wanna know! They're all really nice."

You only squint before responding, "Tall guy, dark hair. He was towards the end but he really walked his ass off."

His face lights up immediately and you know you chose the right answer, "Yunho!"

"Yunho," you repeat, "yeah he's nice to look at. I suppose that's his job."

"He's the newest model I've worked with," Hongjoong looks at the runway fondly, "I didn't know if he'd bring anything special to the table at first, but he's truly irresistible."

"And you invited him to the after party and you want us to meet because we'd be such a perfect couple," you stand up, eye to eye with him now, and giggle at the little game he's playing.

"Maybe so... but listen!" You both start walking towards the exit, "I don't want you to fuck him on the first night or anything. Just get to know him, at the very least you'll get a new client. His portfolio is bare bones."

You don't even have time to process what he said before he's slipping away backstage with a quick goodbye. If you were being honest, this Yunho guy probably wouldn't be a bad hookup. You weren't really looking for anything, but he's pretty. And you can't deny good work connections.

You arrive 20 minutes after Hongjoong told you to, fashionably late. You planned to have a drink or two and stick close to him since the small buds of exhaustion have already bloomed into a fullblown headache. No one should have any questions for a random photographer anyway.

"Speak of the devil, there's my right hand woman now!" Your thoughts were immediately proven wrong when you walk in and a small group of models you recognize from the runway stare fondly in your direction. Yunho is one of them, of course, but you try not to think about the words spoken about him just an hour earlier.

"Hi! I'm y/n, we went to school together," you manage a convincing smile as Hongjoong passes you a drink.

"I can't wait to see your photos," one lady gushed, "Hongjoong showed us some of your work and your style is just lovely."

You a manage a small thanks before taking a small sip. The conversation flows into a new topic with ease and you're left in the background to quietly enjoy the party. That is, until you feel a light tap on your shoulder.

"Excuse me," a shy, deep voice floats above you, "you don't seem like you're in a talkative mood, but I had a question for you?"

You look up and Yunho smiles down at you. He looks nothing like he did on stage before; his piercing eyes have morphed into soft, welcoming ones and his charming smirk is replaced by a nervous grin. You nod and take another sip, letting him continue.

"Hongjoong has just mentioned you so much I thought I'd ask if you could take some headshots for me?" He fiddles with his fingers and when your eyes widen he looks away.

"What has he said about me?" You try not to sound accusatory, but it doesn't come across as nicely as you'd like.

"Oh nothing bad! Nothing bad at all," Yunho chuckles, and it might be the nicest sound you've heard at this party so far, "he just wouldn't stop talking about how great you are. I figured I'd take the hint and ask."

You shift from one foot to the other, considering his request before deciding it wouldn't hurt to get to know him more. "Is this your first modeling gig?"

"Just about," there's that chuckle again, and it's contagious, "I've done a few small things here and there, but this was the biggest scale by far."

"You know I won't lower my rates just because you're new," you tease, "or because Hongjoong wants me to."

He just shakes his head profusely, "oh absolutely not! If anything I was gonna offer you more..." you see Yunho think through his sentence as he says it, trailing off after realizing what exactly he said.

"You flatter me, but I'm not in the mood to talk business right now," you swear a slight pout comes across his face before you even get to finish.

He doesn't skip a beat, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and offering it to you, "then why don't we talk later?"

You can only mutter a "smooth" while tapping your number into his contacts. You hand it back to him and watch him type something before feeling a buzz in your own pocket.

"I'll send you some info when I have a moment this week," you try not to stare at his now mischievous smirk, continuing to sip from your empty cup.

"I'll be waiting," he bends down to your height, and his voice lowers to barely above a whisper, "talk to you soon."

He's gone before you know it, disappearing into the crowd, and the brief proximity makes your insides turn in ways you don't want to admit. You have to find Hongjoong.

His bright blue hair stands out near the food bar and you quickly make your way over. The words fly out of your mouth before you even get to him, "what exactly did you say to Yunho?"

He gives you a small huh, clearly tipsier than you are, before a look of recognition washes over his face. "Oh hi love! I didn't say anything, why?"

"He said you kept mentioning me to him?" You would laugh at the state of your friend if it weren't for the sudden desire to know everything Yunho thinks of you already.

"Hm, I only said you're a great at taking photos!" He clings onto your shoulder and laughs, "and that he stood out to you on the runway tonight! He smiled ear to ear when I said that, isn't he so cute?"

"Hongjoong you did not," you grab both of his shoulders and shake him a bit, "does he think I like him or something?"

"Do you?" When you don't respond he just laughs again, "I guess my job is already done."

"I don't even know him!" You wish you could sincerely be mad at the man in front of you, but he's been correct all night so far.

"Don't you want to though?"

"I hate you, seriously," you glare at him, but he only laughs again before returning to his previous conversation. You don't know what he's gotten you into, but you don't think you mind it.

Your workdays have been packed ever since the night of the show. Being Hongjoong's right hand photographer had its perks, like the dozens of offers you've received since the articles went out, but that doesn't mean it isn't the most stressed you've been in weeks. You all but collapse by the time your lunch break rolls around.

Forget about me already?

The light buzz of your phone disrupts your thoughts about scheduling. No one usually texts you, at least not during the day. No one except Yunho.

Sorry! I've been swamped. Let me send you the form my other clients are using to schedule with me.

Aw, no special treatment for your favorite model?

You make a mental note to beat the shit outta Hongjoong for doing this the next time you see him.

Maybe if you give me a good enough offer I'll put you at the top of my list

Not even 10 minutes later, a scheduling request dings on your phone and you see the payment is three times your normal rate for headshots. You mentally curse Joong for putting you in this situation, but you're willing to play the game if it means good dick and good pay.

Am I at the top of your list now? I can't wait to see you

You can't help the way your thighs squeeze together for a moment, now eager to fit him in your schedule (and elsewhere). You wrap up your short lunch with a newfound motivation to get through your emails, making sure to leave a 2 hour slot open for him. You wonder how long you can hold off on getting back to him before he starts begging you. That would have to be a game you play another time.

The studio is empty when you show up, allowing you to quietly set up just the way you want to. Your movements are quick and practiced, dozens of headshot appointments under your belt at this point. These were supposed to be simple and straightforward, so you didn't have much to prepare besides rolling down the white backdrop and setting up your lights. There were a few other props on the side if he wanted to take more shots. You asked a couple people to help out with equipment during the shoot, but you came in early just to have some peace and quiet. Your coworkers arrive a few minutes after you do, exchanging pleasantries before finishing the job you started.

Then he walks in. You're double checking your camera settings when you hear the front door open and his honey-like voice greeting the other staff. You feel his attention shift to you, and when you turn around a playful smirk is plastered on his face. His makeup isn't as dark as it was on the runway, but he looks clean and undoubtedly handsome. His styled hair falls just past his eyes, moving with his lashes every time he blinks. He's pretty, there's no way around it, a type of face that you can't help but stare at.

"Why don't you take a photo, it lasts longer," he snickers, snapping you out of whatever daze he put you in.

"That's my job after all," you motion to a stool in front of the camera, "do you want any props? We can do more than simple headshots if you'd like."

He nods and sits down, long legs crossing each other at the ankle. "I'd love that, miss photographer."

You narrow your eyes at the comment before signaling to the crew you're ready to go. One lady is on standby near the lights, another guy has a handful of reflectors ready. You try to ignore the tension between your model and focus on your craft.

"Can we try the gold?" You call out to your team, closely monitoring Yunho's face in the warmer light. After a moment of thought, you ask him to tilt his head. He's well behaved in front of the camera, following your every suggestion. You wonder if the crew can feel the heavy energy between you two.

After a half hour of posing, shooting, monitoring, retouching, and shooting again, you call for a break and everyone agrees. The couch in the corner of the studio looks so inviting you nearly run to sit down, oblivious to the way Yunho follows.

"You're really good at this," you jump at his voice next to you.

"I went to school for it so I would hope so," you mumble, getting comfortable. You open your phone, hoping to mindlessly scroll before you all come back, but he just plops down next to you.

"Have you ever gotten your own headshots taken?" You shake your head, trying to ignore the way his leg is pressed against yours. "You're so pretty behind that camera, maybe we can switch one day."

You almost bump into his face from how quickly you look up at him, "I'd never let you touch my equipment."

He hums in disapproval before pulling out his own phone and leaning back into the cushions. "Fine, maybe not me. But I don't see why Joong's never put you on the runway. You're stunning."

He expects a reaction from you, but you control yourself, leaning forward to get as much distance as you can. The two of you sit in innocent silence for a while, but the tension only grows thicker. There's five minutes before you shoot for at least another half hour, and when your job is to stare at his face you're not sure you can go much longer.

"What exactly did Hongjoong tell you about me?" You sit up straight, taking a leap of faith.

"About how in love you are with me, why?" You swiftly kick his leg next to you and he chuckles, "he just said I caught your eye. He wasn't lying was he?"

"No, definitely not," you sigh, "but what I don't understand is why you like me?"

"Who said I like you? You just happen to be very pretty and talented and fun to tease."

"So you do like me," you huff in disbelief. Something in you stirs with every word he says and you have to cross your legs for some relief from the building pressure.

"If wanting to take you right now in the middle of your studio means I like you, then sure," his slender fingers trace the back of your shoulders, wrapping a secure arm around you.

"We still have all the props to play with," you scan the studio, but your team is nowhere to be found during the break.

"What if I want to play with you instead?" His breath softly blows across your ear now, voice just barely above a whisper. It takes everything in you to not kiss him right then and there.

"You're the one paying for this timeblock," you pull up your crew group chat on your phone, already making a decision.

"If we could wrap up here that'd be lovely, miss photographer," there goes that stupid nickname again.

"You can't call me anything else?"

"Would you prefer baby? Maybe princess? Or do you like meaner things?" His hand moves again to rest between your shoulder blades as he watches you type out a quick message.

"I would prefer if you shut up honestly," you press send. As far as your team knows, the client is satisfied and wants to end the shoot here for today. No one complains, you're still being paid for two hours thanks to Yunho's generous payment.

"Will you make me?" He traces a small circle with his thumb on your back, and the comment sounds more inviting than teasing. Your body reacts before your mind does, practically throwing yourself onto him out of annoyance and need. His lips are warm and soft and mold perfectly to yours.

He takes a sharp inhale as your tongue swipes past his bottom lip, his hand travelling up to hold the back of your neck. The other abandons his phone to take purchase on your hip, pulling you further on top of him. Yunho groans at the contact, resisting the urge to buck his hips up into you already. His flirting was almost as hard on him as it was on you.

"So needy," you mumble, propping yourself up on his chest to take in the view. His eyes are already blown out from lust, raking your body and letting his hands follow. His long fingers brush over your hardening nipples and you can't help the sigh that escapes.

He chuckles, "you're one to talk." He rolls his hips ever so slightly and you whine, head falling into his shoulder. He feels bigger than average below you and you wonder what you've gotten yourself into. You slowly rock your hips above him with his hands guiding you, whimpering into his skin.

"Can I taste you?" You freeze, head shooting up to stare at him in confusion. He wraps two fingers around your belt loops and tugs you forward again. "Please baby?" You nod and he sighs with relief as if his life depended on eating you out. Maybe it does.

He lays you on your back on a couch far too small for both of you like this, but you don't care. His lips are back on yours, warm and tender, as you feel both your jeans and panties slide down your legs. The cold air makes you flinch.

"Did I make you this wet while I was on the runway, love?" You feel one slender finger slide through your folds, but it's not enough. "Staring at me behind that camera all day must be so hard. I'll make it up to you," is the last thing he says before tucks his head snugly between your thighs.

Whatever snarky reply you came up escapes you with a moan just a bit too loud, his tongue flattening up against your slit. He wastes no time, too desperate to hear you above him. One hand holding you down just below your stomach, another teasing your entrance while his mouth makes quick work of your clit. You hope to the universe none of your crew left anything in the studio because your whines and wetness echoed through the room.

Before you know it he pushes one, then two, fingers into you, filling you up deliciously, and you buck your hips into him. His pace is slow and deep, opening you up to his liking. Some combination of his tongue and fingers nearly makes you scream, hands shooting straight to pull his hair. He groans into your flesh, vibrations sending sparks straight to your core, before looking up at you. His chin is glossy and a line of spit still connects you both and you nearly come at the sight alone.

"You're fucking delicious, darling," he pumps into you one last time before taking them in his mouth, sucking with a pop, "next time you should ride my face for me."

"Next time?" You watch as he unzips his own pants, shoving them down far enough for his dick to escape. It rebounds off his stomach, bigger than anything you've taken before.

"By the way you're staring," he grips himself at the base, "I think you want a next time." The way you lick your lips is involuntary.

He chuckles, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the floor nearby. You continue to stare shamelessly, boosting his ego as you etch his large, toned body into your mind. "Like what you see?"

"If you don't come here and fuck me right now Yunho I swear to god," and you swear you can see his dick twitch, but he simply tuts a finger at you.

"Ah ah ah, safety first princess," he slides a condom out of his pant pocket, ripping it open and handing it to you. You tilt your head and take it reluctantly, but he only smirks, "I know you want to touch me."

"Fuck you," you roll your eyes, sitting up and coming face to face (face to tip?) with his member. You never thought you'd see a dick that you'd describe as pretty, but his is long and thick and flushed a pretty shade of pink. You wrap your free hand around the base and pump a few times to tease him.

"Not now, love," you hear a shaky breath above you and you smirk. He pulls your other hand up and you comply, unravelling the condom smoothly down him. As soon as you're done he pushes you back down, not risking the chance of you testing him again.

"Let me know if it's too much for you baby," he whispers before finally pushing in. The stretch only stings for a second before turning into delight as he fills you up completely.

You sigh out in relief, mumbling a soft "keep going" and wrapping your hands around his neck. He listens immediately, pulling back almost all the way before thrusting back in. He keeps his slow pace until he's completely sure you're comfortable.

He looks down at where you connect before finally losing his composure. "You take me so fucking well," he moans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses all over you. His pace quickens relentlessly, the sound of skin on skin filling the studio.

You scream at one particularly rough snap of his hips, but he only barely slows down. "You okay, princess?"

"So fucking good," you pant above him, his mouth still ravishing your neck. He groans at your response, fucking you harder than before. You didn't even know it was possible. You snake a hand down to your throbbing clit, so close to coming undone.

"Please come on my dick baby," he all but growls, and the way his hips falter tells you he's close too. His words, on top of everything else, are enough to finally unravel you. You shutter and jerk up into him, moaning some string of fuck's and Yunho's until your mind goes completely blank. He comes shortly after, pumping into you sporadically until he finally flops down on top of you.

You both take a few moments to come back to your senses, nothing but a mess of sweaty limbs on this cramped couch. "Next time I'll take you home so I'll have room to cuddle you after," he chuckles, picking himself up.

"I would like that," you smile softly, legs aching too much to even attempt sitting up. He cleans you both up quietly before plopping back down, letting you stretch your legs across his lap.

"So," his hand traces up your frame to cup your cheek, "can I take you out to dinner sometime, miss photographer?"

[buzzyb33]

Podcasts

Prompt: a collection of clips from a podcast with Y/n and James- literally just them being a cute couple

Warnings: swearing, established relationship, both Y/n and James are content creators, short,

(I have so many requests and stuff but this just came to mind after seeing Ethan and faiths new podcast so.. I’ll get to them soon I swear)

One occurrence was the newest podcast, the two have videos every Thursday and read stupid Twitter threads and Reddit posts.

“So, James.” I say as I adjust my position.

“Yeah? Go on.” He smiles and I clear my throat, exaggerated.

“Would you rather kiss me for 100,000 grand or kiss the prettiest girl in the world for a million?” I cross my legs as I put my phone down from reading.

“Well- what? I kiss you everyday. So I- can just do it.. but for money? So obviously you.” He says, adjusting his glasses.

“That’s the wrong fucking answer, James.” I shake my head.

“What? Why? We don’t need a million- I suppose it’d be nice.” He speaks and watches me carefully as my jaw ticks.

“No! I’m the prettiest girl in the world! You’re meant to say: ‘oh y/n, I could kiss you and get the million,’ because I’m meant to be the prettiest girl in the world!”

I scoff and slam my hand as he starts laughing.

“Yeah-! That’s- what I meant! Oh fuck off that was a trick question. Yeah, I’d kiss you and get the million.” He pleads his case with amusement.

“Who’s the prettiest girl in the world?” I ask.

“You!”

I shake my head. “Not what you said before..”

Another time was a bit random, but it sits a nice place in Y/ns heart.

“You know, Y/n is getting her room re done. She claims she isn’t a loser but the amount of five nights at Freddy’s and Pokémon stuff is organised on her shelf I thought I was going to have a seizure from all the colours.” James says, flexing his fingers.

I roll my eyes, opening my mouth to speak but the frowning.

“I’m sorry- you’re a content creator and don’t know the five nights at Freddy’s lore? And I bet you could name like two fucking Pokémon.” I scoff, sipping my coffee.

He looks at me and laughs.

“You get so defensive! And I can name many Pokémon, you’re just borderline obsessed.”

He states and I scoff again.

“Sorry, James, how many fucking guitars do you own?” I retort and he rolls his eyes.

“I get payed for that, very different.” He replies and I scoff.

“Guys James is just mad he acts tureen years older than he is.” I snicker and he smiles.

“Okay, haha.”

Though, James’ favourite clip of the two is when they had Willne as a guest, him sat on the middle.

“So, how long do these normally go on for?” He asks as he shifts in his seat.

“About an hour.. maybe longer so..” James pulls his phone out, checking the time.

“Around an hour or something left.” He says and I nod, finding some threads to read out.

“What’s your home screen?” Will asks as James checks the time.

His face turns a little pink, only visible by the tips of his ears and nose.

“It’s me and Y/n in Australia.” He shows will and he can’t help but smile.

The photo consists of Y/n eating a cone of ice cream, one hand in James’ as they walk ahead of whoever took the photo, the sun is just setting and she has his rainbow scarf draped over her shoulders.

At that, i look up.

“What? The one Jago took?” I ask as I peer over and James nods.

“Awe..” I smile and he looks away.

“What’s yours then lass?” Will asks and i smile as I lock my phone to show him and the camera.

The photo is of my lips smooshed against James’ cheek and his hand in my forehead, attempting to push it away, I was sleep deprived when I did that and Jono found it hilarious at James’ trying-not-to-smile expression and snapped the photo.

Will fake gags and then chuckles.

The finally, the end of 2023 podcast was a fan favourite.

“What was your Spotify wrapped?” He asks, pulling his own phone out.

“I thought I’d ask on the podcast.” He adds with a smile.

I smile at his Tory accent and check.

“I haven’t looked yet..” I say as I tap through it.

“Hm. My number one song was heartbeat by childish Gambino, number two static by Steve lacy, number three was so long by you, number four was crying lighting and five was 505 by arctic monkeys.” I say with a soft smile.

“You have me?” He asks with a skeptical tone.

I scoff and shove my phone near him as he smirks.

“Alright alright.. artists?” He asks and I see.

“Arctic monkeys, you, Kanye west, childish gambino and TV girl.” I smile as I hand him my phone.

“I don’t think me and Kanye should ever be next to each other. In any list.” He says with a stupidly serious time and I let out a giggle.

“Shut up. What was your favourite edit of the year?” I ask and he shrugs.

“Edit? I don’t know..” he clearly thinks.

“Mine is the josh Hutcherson one.” I smile jd he rolls his eyes.

“Could at least lie and say it’s one of me.” He scoffs and I laugh.

“I did like the one where it was taking what’s not yours and it was a ship edit of us. That was sweet.” I smile and he nods.

“I saw that.. stop being al soft. Now I look like a prick.” I smile teasingly and he scoffs again.

A/n

Guys I’m so burnt out I know I have loads of requests but don’t let that stop you from keeping the coming cus I will be writing my favs first.

Also maybe I just wanted to yap about my interests and put them into the reader. Oh well.

Requests are open!

Masterlist!

[ineffable-endearments]

Aziraphale's Entire Bookshop Is A Trauma Reenactment

This essay got so complicated. The main point is that Aziraphale's bookshop is a trauma reenactment and that's why he had to give it up.

This post of mine recently got a bunch of notes and I'm so glad people have liked it. For the unfamiliar: the gist is that Aziraphale wants. He wants books, he wants Crowley - but he can't let himself just desire things for their own sake or for his; he'll only allow himself to have what he wants if it serves a greater purpose. That's why Aziraphale has a shop full of books instead of just a collection of books. That's why Aziraphale always has some scheme for Crowley to get involved in.

However, I think that underneath the "purpose" of selling books and participating in the local economy, the shop has another purpose that Aziraphale hasn't faced. Instead of rewriting this, I'll partially copy over something I wrote after Season 1 and before we even knew Season 2 was a thing:

Aziraphale’s squirreling away of old books and erroneous Bibles, his hoarding of humanity’s misguided attempts at prophecy…he is roleplaying his relationship with Heaven, but with himself in a position of power. He’s gathering Knowledge and keeping it a secret while knowing all along that it’s inaccurate, so in that way, he is a lot like his superiors and God. Crucially, he gets to role play the entity powerful enough to have, but not share, his knowledge.

Note that also, in this scenario, the misprinted Bibles and vague or incorrect prophecies are highly prized. They are Aziraphale's favorites - just as you'd expect for a being who knows he's not what an angel is supposed to be but is desperately hoping God will favor him for exactly that reason.

So. The bookshop is a reenactment of Aziraphale's trauma in the same way that yelling at plants is a reenactment of Crowley's trauma. In both cases, the two of them are identifying with both their abusers and themselves. Crowley recognizes that his abusers are malicious and have only their own motivations, no drive toward the "greater good." That's why it's a sign of healing that he has started showing more attachment to his plants in Season 2 and seems to be treating them better: he is no longer acting the part of his own abuser.

Aziraphale is, despite his conscious efforts, still identifying with Heaven. Through his bookshop, he is trying to act like he thinks Heaven should, preserving (his books) and protecting (his books, Jim, Crowley) and orchestrating Good (the whole Ball fiasco). And each of these behaviors is for a Great Plan: running a bookshop, solving a mystery, throwing a ball. Everything he does has to align with a higher purpose, a grand scheme of some kind. Otherwise, how is he going to take on Heaven's role and do it better?

It's a twisted way of trying to make things right. Heaven has failed at its job. It's supposed to be the ultimate Good, but it hasn't been. Even in the Final 15 minutes when Aziraphale says "It's the side of truth, of light, of good," I'm more than convinced he's saying that because he wants it to be so rather than because he's sure of it. (Someone else pointed out this possibility, but it was many posts back and I'm not sure who. If I find the post again, I'll link it here.)

Aziraphale is stuck in a pattern of trying to play the role Heaven failed at. To be clear, this role is "motivating humans to do Good and keeping it all (the universe) running."

...But nobody should be doing Heaven's job. Nobody should be "orchestrating Good," not by trying to control other people. Nobody should be making grand plans for the universe. People should be allowed to just live out their lives.

I want to add, in case it's not obvious, that this is not a conscious process. With human beings, it typically is not. And as other people have pointed out, Aziraphale is smart, which is why he can end up in these patterns in the first place: he's good at rationalizing!

While his need for control is intensely unhealthy, it's reasonable that he would have ended up here. Aziraphale has never been in control in his entire existence. That's Heaven's form of abuse. I mean, I start having an existential crisis when I don't feel like I can say "no" often enough at work - I can't imagine being created with the same amount of free will but denied the knowledge to make any choices for millions of years.

(That's also where some of his most infuriating behavior comes from - another way of trying to exert control is through acceptance: to just insist on being happy even when things are obviously wrong. God is cruel? There must be a good reason we don't understand. Armageddon is coming? Well, it will all be lovely afterward, of course. The Metatron is being really persistent about trying to get me back in Heaven? That's great, actually! Now I can make a difference! Neil has commented that Aziraphale's favorite song with lyrics is "Spread A Little Happiness." Look up the lyrics. They are all about simply denying bad feelings.)

You know how we've observed that the bookshop is painted in Crowley's colors? And how Aziraphale left both of them behind at the end of the season? Well, also consider how Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship pattern has become unhealthy and codependent - Aziraphale genuinely loves Crowley, but the only model of love he's had in his own personal experience, outside of fiction, is this weird power-control thing Heaven has going on.

He needs to break out of the control pattern before he can admit that he loves books and Crowley for what they are.

This is why I think the definition of "goodness" isn't necessarily Aziraphale's final final boss. The narrative could go that way. But I have a strong feeling his final boss will have to involve control.

When people wonder "Why is it taking so long for Aziraphale to figure out that Heaven is bad," my personal suggestion is that good intentions are a red herring for both the audience and for Aziraphale himself. He needs to stop believing that Heaven's job is necessary at all. He needs to see that the whole existence of the institution is a problem, not merely the management. No, not even the really bad management.

On one hand, Aziraphale needs to figure out the same things that Adam Young figured out - that existence is meaningless when people don't get to make their own choices; there's no point in having friends who can't talk back, and there's no point in making people's decisions for them. It's very honorable to want to truly do Good. But you can't do it through control. Even if you completely ignore the moral issues with controlling people, it simply does not produce a worthwhile result.

Aziraphale technically knows all this already. He knows people need to have choices. He knows choices hold no meaning unless people make them freely. He just hasn't grasped that Heaven is, at best, creating unnatural consequences for people. Heaven itself is getting in the way of that ability to choose.

On the other hand, Aziraphale needs to figure out that he CAN make his own choices. He doesn't need Crowley to dance him into the right decision, and he doesn't need God to tell him what to do. Aziraphale has already done some of this in the past, under extreme pressure. He needs to get more comfortable with it. I think his realizations about control will help this part fall into place. Realizing that Heaven's role is a problem can more easily cascade into a healthier notion of his own boundaries - choices that are his and choices that are other people's.

Giving up the bookshop is actually a step toward healing because Aziraphale is stepping up to see the inner workings of his abusive institution head-on instead of reenacting the abusive actions with his bookshop, his neighbors, and Crowley. We know that in reality, people don't get over trauma thanks to one event, but for the sake of the story, realizing that individual or institutional control is not the way to Goodness might just be the breakthrough Aziraphale needs.

And then he can stop feeling compelled to put the things he loves through Great Plans in order to spend time with them, and he can simply love them, hopefully in a cottage where no one ever tries to buy books from him and Crowley will sleep soundly every night.

How this will come about in Heaven is anyone's guess. I think it might, again, happen the same way it happened for Adam Young: with Aziraphale getting his way only to realize it's not what he wants.

Of course, the bookshop deserves to live on. It was a safe place for so long. Like all of Aziraphale and Crowley's other respective coping mechanisms, it offered protection and comfort, and it's become an inspiration to Muriel.

That's why I have a strong feeling Muriel is going to formally inherit the bookshop - with Aziraphale's full permission and enthusiasm, for keeps, not as a coerced posting by an authority figure. I may be getting ahead of myself, what with the enormity of what has to happen first, but it feels right.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! First of all, thank you so so so much for this blog. It's incredibly useful for both old and new fans.

Second, I was wondering if you could help me recommending fics in which Aziraphale and Crowley are exes who still love each other? You see, one of my favorite fics is Ink Blots and Forget-Me-Nots and it made me want to keep reading that trope.

Thank you in advance!

Hi and thanks! We have #getting back together and #reunion tags with loads of fics like this (including the one you've mentioned), so do check those out. Here are more fics to add to the collection...

you're what haunts me (now that you're away) by duri (M)

“I don’t understand.” Crowley says quietly. “Why aren’t I enough for you?” “Oh…” Aziraphale murmurs, coming up to him, cupping his jaw with a feather light grip. “Oh, Crowley. Don’t ever think that, of course you're enough. You're more than enough." Crowley yanks himself away, his eyes burning even more. It’s a foreign feeling and he sends a quick thanks down to whoever is in charge downstairs that his sunglasses are always on. He shudders to think what his eyes look like underneath. “Then why couldn’t you stay?” Or, Crowley tries to get used to life on his own, but it would be a lot easier if a certain angel would stop showing up.

Tumbling Down by katonline (E)

When summer finally rolls in and lays heavy on the South Downs, he realizes he’s lonely. While most demons are solitary creatures, Crowley is not; just another way he doesn’t fit the mold. Without thinking, he picks up his phone, meaning to call Aziraphale - wants to tell him all about the cottage, what he’s done, what he’s made. Pain brings him up short. He can’t call him - literally, because he never added Aziraphale's number to this new mobile; but it’s more than that, of course. The angel doesn’t want what Crowley aches to give, holding out to him in two shaking hands. You go too fast for me. So he racks his brain for an alternative, trying to come up with someone to share his accomplishments with. After a week, he lands on the witch. She, too, can make things grow. He dials the operator, asks for Tadfield, Jasmine Cottage. The witch answers. She doesn’t sound surprised. I’d love to come see what you’ve done with the place. Crowley, frustrated by Aziraphale's continued hesitance, attempts to make a new life for himself after the Apocalypse-that-Wasn't.

Seven Minutes (Years) in Heaven by LollipopCop (E)

Gabriel’s violet eyes widened, almost comically shocked, and then he smiled tightly. “Now, what’s this?” Crowley’s throat was dry, the flowers and chocolates suddenly heavy in his hands. “Um.” Grateful that the glasses hid his gaze, he looked to Aziraphale. Aziraphale looked ill with panic. Right. He’d have to save them both. It wouldn’t be the first time. First time from an archangel, but God loved to toy with him, didn’t She? He had to put his theological angst aside, because above all costs, Gabriel could not find out that Crowley was in a semi-relationship with his agent on earth; he would absolutely harm Aziraphale, and there was no way Crowley would let that happen. ~~ Inspired by the deleted scene of the bookshop's grand opening in episode 3. Aziraphale and Crowley start a relationship in Paris, 1793, but are torn apart.

Headlights by RoswellSmokingWoman (M)

Aziraphale made Crowley want to believe in the ineffability of a God that brought them together. Crowley made Aziraphale want to sacrifice his religion and worship their love instead. But that was then when love was enough to bring together two fools desperate to make it work. Three years after their divorce, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't talking. They've tried to move on, but neither can. It should be their anniversary, on New Year's Eve, but they're not together. They should be together. Aziraphale calls. He's not even sure whether Crowley will pick up, but he does. They see each other again for the first time in years, and it's a whirlwind. It's time to heal old wounds, put aside their differences, and make their relationship work again. They already know the alternative, and know they can't live like that anymore.

I Was Made For Lovin' You by midnightdragons (T)

Anthony Crowley is a big-shot stuntman, working on a movie alongside a new member of the industry, a cameraman named Aziraphale hopeful to create his own movie one day. The two's fling begins to evolve into something more, until there's an accident on set that leaves Crowley injured, and their relationship in shambles. Six years later, Crowley's called back for the first time since then -- to a movie that Aziraphale himself is directing. (An AU inspired by and with some dialogue taken from Ryan Gosling's The Fall Guy; stuntman!Crowley, director!Aziraphale.)

The Ghost of Husbands Past by A_N_D (E)

Az always knew that he’d be thrown out the moment his father found out he was gay. He hadn’t expected to be declared dead though - or for his husband to believe it! But their marriage had been a foolish teenage impulse (not to mention invalid in America), so when Az moved to a small town far upstate New York to start his new life, he moved alone. The kindest thing he could do was let Crowley mourn and move on, not be shackled for life to a now disabled partner. Tony Crowley never recovered from losing his best friend, his childhood sweetheart, his better half. He’d been drifting ever since; no plans, no hope, no money - and now, just before Thanksgiving, no job either. Given the stark choice of freezing to death or accepting his sister’s invitation to join her upstate, Tony reluctantly lives out the Hallmark cliche of Recently Unemployed Person Moves to Small Town for Christmas. It’s a time of hope, love, and family. It’s time for Az and Tony to find each other again.

- Mod D

[rizsu]

loverboys. kaveh, tighnari, cyno, scaramouche.

sum. short drabbles abt your love with him

if you zoom into sumeru's city, you can see two young adults exiting the grand bazaar. the lanky male talks, hands moving everywhere to add exaggeration in his speech. beside him stands a girl, though she holds a bored expression, she's listening to all the details from him.

“i'm telling you even if i DIE i won't say i was wrong!” kaveh finishes, holding up a finger and sliding it across his neck to mimick a decapitation. he rolls his eyes, immediately sour at the thought of the altercation earlier.

surprisingly, kaveh's argument did not include alhaitham but on the not-so-surprisingly note, he got himself involved in another argument that he totally didn't instigate. you see.. his problem is unconciously saying his thoughts out loud which gets him places—places that are sometimes good (results may vary).

focusing on your lollipop, you nod your head for the umpteenth time at whatever he's going on about. you lost interest ever since you guys reached the adventurer's booth. melting into the sugary flavour, you close your eyes with a little smile—that is until someone boldly yanks your lollipop.

“well, excuse me kaveh?!” looking at him, you make sure your expression shows what you think about his sheer audacity. how can he just confiscate your snack like that?!

“you focused on this thing more than you did with me!” as if it's illegal, he dangles the lollipop in front your face to inject guilt into your system (not like it'll work..)

all it took was one simple glare from you tells kaveh that he needs to run before he becomes a punching bag. gearing up his long legs and holding a secure grip on your lollipop, kaveh runs through random directions in the city. with a childish grin on his face, he looks back at you and taunts, “catch me if you can!”

nothing's worse than suffering a migraine at the ass crack of midnight after a long day at work. you're practically dragging your body against the wall for support as you walk home. since your home's a small distance from work you walk but god, you should've taken up your co-worker's offer to drive you home.

groaning again, you move your hand up to support your head. with the intense pain that blurs your vision, your let out a line of curses but stops once you see a pharmacy in the distance. as if an angel heard you, the pharmacy's opened twenty-four hours all week and it's just two steps away—maybe even four..!

pushing open the door, your steps stutter until you reach the counter. slapping your palm on the platform, you hurridly request for painkillers before your migraine can get the best of you, “can i get something for a migraine? preferably something strong. thanks.”

blinking twice, tighnari accepts your request and slides two packets of pills, “here you go. they're both drowsy pills.”

muttering a “thank you” you give him the amount of cash needed and pop out two pills from its packet. seconds before you can swallow it, tighnari speaks up, “there's a vending machine with water. you can take one.”

turning slightly so you can see the vending machine, your lips shape into an ‘o’. walking to collect your bottled water, you turn to smile at tighnari before leaving.

like destiny once again, both shared the same thought, “how cute.”

hot, sweaty and tired: three words to describe what you feel right now. for whatever reason needed, cyno convinced you to come on a some “business adventure” with him out in the desert—specifically, around king deshret's mausoleum. apparently it's for a report/investigation but who cares? you don't. you never listened to a word he said other than “come with me.”

you look at cyno who doesn't seem affected. in fact, he looks like he can move on and traverse the other two areas left in the desert. furrowing your eyebrows, your intertwine your hand with his and lean your head on his back.

“can we rest? sorry, i'm tired.” “mhm, let's go to an oasis.”

pulling you to his side, cyno wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in closer to his shoulder. he feels guiltly, he knows you're not that heat resistant yet bothered you to come with him.

after what felt like eons, you guys finally reached the oasis and cyno sits down first. dusting off his pants, he gently pulls you down to sit on him and snakes one hand over your waist as the other positions itself to shade you from the sun.

“feeling better?” “yeah, thank you cyno.”

strapped down, scaramouche feels a cold substance splatter on his face. fear lingers down his body as the substance spreads further. against his will he's having all these things happen to him.

“stop moving your face!” “let me go, woman.”

twisting and turning, scaramouche doesn't care if he gets the pillow stained with it. he wants it off his face. it's a foreign feeling that does not mix with him.

and what's the substance you might ask? a skincare mask—a peel off mask to be exact. it's a sleepover night and you're bored until the idea of skincare night with your boyfriend. he didn't agree and even called it a “stupid idea” so you strapped him down with random clothes and took control.

squinting his eyes at you, scaramouche feigns annoyance but in reality, he's all giddy inside. lighthearted stuff like this makes him blush like a seven year old boy falling in love at first sight.

but scaramouche's never going to admit that. he has a reputation he needs to keep up with and he will do it—even if you already know he's just faking.

“can it come off yet?” “no, it's barely been two minutes.”

scaramouche groans, his lips forming a pout as he looks at the line of skincare products on your desk. it's going to be a long night for him.

[ssentimentals]

f1 pairings as famous love tropes: charles leclerc x carlos sainz

love at first sight (fashion designer!AU)

'birds started singing and heaven fell down upon us the moment my eyes landed on you'

charles is panicking. he is also frustrated, but as of right now panic holds a bigger proportion in the overall share of his feelings. he is late and charles leclerc is never late. all final sketches for his spring-summer collection are ready except one final piece, the grand finale as charles likes to call it. frustration gnaws at his mind because whole collection apart from that final piece was ready and done in the first week - his short vacation in spain inspired him more than he would've thought. he locked himself up in his studio and let beauty come out of the drawings and god, he's never been prouder. every single piece of this collection reminds him of a gentle breeze, warm sea waves, pastel colored flowers on the beach. it's beautiful, it's wonderful and it's incomplete. charles might just kill someone.

loud groan makes everyone look up and he hastily throws last three sketches into the bin, wanting to set the whole thing on fire. clock on the wall almost mocks him, reminds him that he has only five hours left but five hours are not enough for perfection to be created and charles refuses to settle for anything less than perfect.

'go home, everyone.' charles announces, trying to keep anger out of his voice. it's no one's fault but his that collection is unfinished, anyway. 'you can finish your work tomorrow.'

at first no one moves, but when charles pointedly goes back to drawing ignoring everyone, his workers quickly free his studio, flocking one by one until only pierre stays. 'i decided that you could use some inspiration,' he starts, coming closer. 'so i invited several models to stop by.'

charles scoffs, not looking up. 'stupid idea. faces do not inspire me.'

'but those are models! you'll have to make a fitting check on some anways.' pierre tries. 'just be nice, yeah? i'll leave now, but like five of them should come now and oh, i prepared all the docs for the guy from audit, he should also be here shortly.' pierre reaches out and squeezes charles's shoulder lovingly. 'don't stress, calamar. you got this.'

'i don't.' charles cuts out, sighing. 'just go and don't forget to bring me something for dinner.'

pierre scoffs and mutters something about being used but charles is already focused on the drawing. twirling pencil with his fingers, he tries to imagine which look would fit the most for closing the show. his head is usually full of ideas but right now it's empty and only irrelevant memories from vacation spring up, carrying nothing helpful to his case. it's like he used up all of his creativity, which in itself is a very depressing thought; charles thinks it's time to add desperation to his mix of feelings. his eyes move from one sketch to another over and over again, hoping that answer is somewhere there. what is it that he's missing? which piece, which color combination, which-

'um, pardon? i came to-'

'what?!' charles barks out loudly at the interruption. fuck, he was getting somewhere, who dared to interrupt him now? 'what-'

oh. charles blinks at the sight of a tall man in front of him. he blinks again for good measure, just to make sure that his eyes are not playing tricks with him because he had too much caffeine. man in front of him looks like he stepped out of some editorial magazine with his stylishly combed dark hair and big brown eyes. charles is not a stranger to pretty faces; being a fashion designer somehow made him immune to shiny outer appereance of models and celebrities. his breath doesn't get knocked down, his pulse doesn't thrum and his heart doesn't beat faster from an objectively attractive face. it never did, anyway. until right now.

charles takes two steps closer, needing to inspect further. gorgeous tanned skin, plush lips, strong nose, thick neck. there's a bit of stubble on his jawline, which only accentuates how sharp it is. simple blue linen shirt hugs him nicely, stretches over his broad shoulders and only makes his skin tone look even more alluring with the contrast of light color on a tanned body. first two buttons undone are enough to make him look less formal but still not overly casual; peak of collarbones doesn't go unnoticed either. tucked in a fitted pair of straight jeans that make his legs look like they stretch for miles, hugging his thighs just a little to tease the shape - this man looks like -

'god,' charles whispers, awe unhidden in his voice. 'my god.'

perfect dark eyebrow rises up at this. 'i came for-'

'pierre told me,' charles interrupts, stepping even closer. 'you just need to stay here and not move, okay? just don't move.'

charles rushes back, grabs his sketchbook and starts working. 'what's your name?' he asks absentmindedly, chewing on his pencil.

'carlos.' thick accent sips through the cracks.

'perfect,' charles whispers, not looking up. 'absolutely perfect.'

carlos looks like sea. like when you stare at it and in the distance it's almost glowing from the sunlight reflected on it. carlos looks like lazy sunday afternoon, when you have nothing to do and nowhere to be, when your own company is your sole entertainment and that is enough. carlos looks like he is number one. it's in the way he is obviously sun's favorite boy from the way his skin is sunkissed all over; it's in the way god took it's time to make him the way he is to show people that perfection exists. carlos looks soft. his hair, his lips, his eyes - all is soft. god, especially his eyes. charles pauses and looks up, breath hitching at the way carlos is already looking back at him. non artistic people would've called those eyes 'doe eyes' or 'bambi eyes' but thankfully charles is an artist and he knows what those eyes really are. they are love. they are expressive even when their owner stays silent, they are talking and the stories they tell send a thrill down charles's spine. he feels it all - the breath knocked out, pulse thrumming, heart beating twice as fast thing. he stares like a masochist because it's painful to stare, charles doesn't think he should have a right to do so for free, but looking away feels criminal. carlos stares back, anyway. he doesn't say anything and he doesn't have to, his eyes talk for him. they are curious, swimming with possibilities and questions - charles wants to answer them all, wants to grab him by the hand and tell him that everything is possible, he will make it become possible for him.

'where are you from?' charles breaks the silence, looking down at his sketch and continuing his work.

'spain. madrid, specifically.'

god, of course this embodiement of a sun is from spain, from a region where sun shines with all the love and gentleness on its' people. it's so fitting, too. charles can easily picture carlos there, can see how he'll fight right in with all the incredible architecture and colorful nature and- that's it. that's the key. his final piece. charles works without breathing, overtaken by his vision - a modern piece, the kind which looks good for a stroll on the bustling madrid street and fits a nice time in nature. a perfect balance, one that attracts attention not because it's loud but because it's so confident. like carlos. huh, so much for 'faces do not inspire me'.

'from which agency you are?' charles asks, moving to another sketch. he needs to check angles but now that he's got an idea, everything else will come to him easier. 'you can start stripping now, i'll do the color check. i think terracota will look amazing on you, let me check if we have any samples left.'

he stands up to go check fabrics but stops, when carlos just stares back at him, unmoving. he opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, when someone knocks and several guys enter one by one. 'hello,' one of them starts. 'we are here for fit check. pierre sent us.'

charles frowns. charles is also not stupid so he connects dots quickly enough to realize that carlos is- 'you are the audit guy,' he breathes out and carlos offers a small smile in response. 'holy shit.'

'i'm flattered you thought that i am one of those guys,' carlos tilts his head to the side of newcomers. 'they are models, no?' charles nods and he chuckles, shaking his head. 'nice. thanks, i guess.'

'i'm so sorry,' charles mutters, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. god, blush doesn't suit him, can he not blush right now?

'you caught me off guard there with your stripping part,' carlos comments and his voice is so smooth and melodic, charles never wants him to stop talking. 'i was going to say that you could've at least asked me out to dinner first.'

charles stares at carlos with eyebrows pushed up his hairline. what is happening right now? throat clearance from waiting guys brings him out of his thoughts though and he quickly asks them to wait outside for few minutes, needing to stay alone with carlos. he finds docs that pierre left for him and comes closer, holding them tightly. this close scent of carlos's cologne makes his head spin a little: it's a wave of ocean at first but with a twist of something sweeter, darker, which pulls you in. charles feels like he's about to drown.

'those are for me?' carlos asks, pointing at the docs. 'from pierre, right?'

charles nods and doesn't make a move to hand them to carlos. carlos is also not taking them and they are stuck at this staring contest, which is ridiculous but how can charles let him go? his muse, his final piece? 'you are it,' he lets out, holding eye contact with carlos, which is not an easy thing when having carlos's eyes on him feels electric. 'my- i needed my final piece. i have it now, i know how it'll look. i drew it just now, you are-'

'can i see?' carlos interrupts.

charles doesn't show his unfinished sketches to anyone. he also doesn't fall head over heels for guys from audit but this day is full of firsts, apparently. carlos stands by his side when charles hands him his sketchbook and the way his eyes trace every single detail of the lines make charles feel giddy. he waits impatiently, practically buzzing with energy by the time carlos returns him the sketchbook.

'it's beautiful,' he says and his tone is different. it's softer than before, filled with honey, honesty and promise. 'very, very pretty.'

charles almost says something idiotic like not as pretty as you but thankfully he still has head to mouth filter. he bites his lower lip and feels a surge of power in the way carlos immediately looks down, the way those eyes instantly zero on this action. his eyes are always talking even when he doesn't; his eyes are love and right now charles's own hunger is reflected in them. kiss me charles want to whisper. you can take me right now and i will succumb to you the way artists succumb to their muses, wholeheartedly and inevitably.

'what's your name?' carlos asks and if there's a slight drop in his voice, none of them mention it.

'charles.' his own name feels foreign on his tongue. 'leclerc.'

carlos hums, tracing lovingly charles's face with his eyes. 'leave those docs here, charles. i need an excuse to come here again.'

there's no way that carlos doesn't hear loud beating of his heart. heat blooms in the short space between them and charles wants. god, how much he wants. he nods, not trusting his voice not to crack if he speaks.

'i will come tomorrow,' carlos says and there it is, the promise that charles heard so clearly in his tone. 'when you will not have five handsome models waiting to strip for you. when will that be?'

'come today,' charles lets out, not caring if he's acting desperate. 'after eight.'

carlos doesn't seem to think that he's desperate. fire in his eyes ignites and oh, he wants, too. he looks at charles like he wants to forget that he's on work and that there are people waiting for him outside of the door; he looks at charles like charles wants him to look at him. oh, this is wonderful.

'after eight.' carlos agrees and it's a promise again. sweet like honey.

charles stays under some spell for few minutes after carlos is gone and it takes a loud 'shall we start?' from a model to kickstart his brain again. he quickly fishes out his phone and sends pierre text message: 'audit guy dropped by. final piece is ready. do not come to bring me dinner, do not come at all' and takes a deep breath. time to work.

a/n: my love ode for carlos and his eyes is done, please take it and hold it with care :') come to my inbox with suggestions of which other pairings i should write for! - nini

my other formula 1 writings are here

my seventeen writings are here

[yukipri]

Heroes & Villains Clone Backpack Review!

The Heroes and Villains Clone Troopers collection is here!!

I'm absolutely ECSTATIC about this collection, bc I've wanted a general clones/GAR collection (not TBB/332nd, as cool as they are) for AGES. I begged a rep for this collection in person at last year's NYCC, so now that it's here, of course I ordered ASAP. Got a few other items that I'll review too, but starting off with the backpack!

This is the "Grand Army Tech Backpack"! There are tons of little nods to the clones/the GAR throughout.

Detailed review of the design under cut!

First, the top flap is a really neat fusion design of both the clones' helmets & ARC pauldrons. Only visible from a top-down view, the black bit in the middle actually looks like the clones' visors, which is a design thing I love that they also did with their Ahsoka Trooper backpacks. It's got the helmet vents over the blue, and the sides can come out to look more like shoulder pauldrons too!

On this flap, there's a lil black velcro patch that reads "Elite Clones" in Aurebesh. In the middle, you can swap out the designations of 4 included clones: Rex, Fives, Echo, and Cody! (love them ALL, but sorry I've a Cody bias) I LOVE that they have this customization option, since all us clone lovers have our biases😅 (will include more details on this in a follow-up reblog1)

Next, we've got the stretchy cross bands across the front middle, which are practical because they can stretch to hold stuff, but visually, are clearly a nod to the straps over ARC kamas. A bit hard to see in photos, but they cross over a Republic Cog on the white pleather!

Below that is the 3-button ARC chest pouch-inspired pocket. There's a GAR patch next to it, and both of these are on top of another flat pouch. There are 2 pouches on both sides of this, giving the appearance of ARC holsters.

On one side, there's a detachable "gadget case," which is really fun! However, one comment: I don't love how the zipper opens on the bottom, which means that if you want to put anything inside it without securing it tightly into a compartment, it'll fall straight out🥲Could be solved if it opened at the top instead!

Both sides have very stretchy bottle holders that hold my chonky thermos from Batuu with ease. Also, loops so you can easily hook carabiners (and then add more keychains/charms for more personalization eyyy)

Overall, I absolutely adore this bag. It's got an awesome design that's clearly got a ton of thought put into it, and is an amazing homage to GAR clones and specifically ARC troopers!

Because Tumblr posts only allow one video per post, please keep an eye on the reblogs because I'll add videos showing how the velcro designations swap out + a demonstration of how much this thing fits.

This post is NOT sponsored, just a fan sharing honest reviews.

However, here's my non-influencer “refer a friend” code, if you want $25 off $75!

And here's a direct link to the bag itself on the Heroes & Villains site!

Hope this review was helpful!

[kaciidubs]

Camboy!SKZ Headcanons | Maknae Line

❣ Summary: What it would be like if the SKZ boys were camboys? An idea brought on by @onmykneesforchanlix ❣ ❣ Warnings: Camboy AU, kink discussion [mommy kink, pet play, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, deception], sex toys ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Slight crack energy for Jisung, Felix is hinted at having an interest in a certain camboy. ❣ Hyung Line ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣

Jisung

The people’s princess, quokkasungie, honestly started his account on a drunken dare. Yeah, really.

His very, very, first video on his account - that’s still there to this day - is a video from that same fateful night, a poorly recorded, slightly out of focus video of him jacking off with unabashed moans and desperate whimpers for a release.

Very unceremonious and unplanned, but for some reason it got views and he liked the attention - even if hearing himself as desperate as he was still makes him turn redder than a tomato.

As an upgrade to his procedure/setup, he invested in a webcam to add to his desktop computer, which provided his viewers a better view to his bedroom and bed - his personal stage.

His content is very much viewer interactive, his pleasure hinging on the messages sent in from the anonymous users as they guide him through the session; sometimes allowing him a straight through orgasm, while other times forcing him through orgasm denial after orgasm denial, getting drunk off of the needy whimpers and whines from his putty lips.

He owns a few toys, between 3 or 6, and the ones that make the most appearances in his lives are his pretty pink [viewer gifted] dildo, and matching cockring.

Is friends with leeknowswho and had one stream where he [Minho] was the one guiding him through his live session - it was one of Jisungs highest viewed lives to date and people still beg him to have another session with the mystery man.

Felix 

Introducing the content king who has everyone falling to their knees, the freckled fairy sunshinebokkie!

He started camboying because, well, he wanted to! There’s no grand story about his motivations for it, other than it was something he wanted to try for the sake of trying it, much like most of his other hobbies. At some point this side hustle sort of became more of his main job, while his main job became a part time gig.

Since he had previous experience in streaming/social media, doing this was basically a walk in the park, just with the added bonus of showing off his dick and hole to thousands of horny beggars. It’s empowering in its own special way.

His streams are diverse in content, ranging from streams simply for him to get off, streams where he showcases the “sponsor of the month” with the toys they’ve sent for him to try out, to themed scenarios his viewers voted for him to act out, and even streams where the viewers control how and when he could pleasure himself.

Speaking of toys, he has a collection that would make a pornstar blush; normal dildos, dragon dildos, silicon grinders, vibrators, buttplugs, nipple clamps, cockrings [vibrating and metal], a cock cage - he even has a goal for a fuck machine stream [per the request of his viewers].

His viewers always rave about wanting him to collaborate with other streamers and he always replies with the same flustered laugh and sparkling eyes, “I don’t even think it works like that, guys! You just want me to get fucked by someone, don’t you?”

They do, and they know he wants to, too - especially when he went on a horny ramble about a certain body building cammer before fucking himself into multiple orgasms and overstimulation.

But he can’t fold that easily - not yet at least.

Seungmin

Onto our textbook camboy, the guy who started camboying with the intent of making money off of his dick, minmong00.

Working a dead-end job making coffee from morning to afternoon wasn’t his ideal way of living, especially when he had bills to pay and hobbies to feed. He also knew that he was a generally attractive guy, at least, that’s what he garners from the longing stares he catches from time to time - so, why not use it to his advantage?

Starting an account wasn’t hard, nor was trying to decide what he wanted to market his content as - the hardest part was, surprisingly, trying to stick to his morals in not selling himself off too much to pander to the horny viewers.

Now, hear me out.

Camming automatically comes with a sense of selling some part of yourself for the pleasure of other people - he knew that, he understood that - but the way people genuinely begged him to make certain types of content with more than generous tips had him heavily reconsidering his limits.

Textbook camboy meant textbook camboy; he had the webcam setup, he only showed off part of his bedroom [only enough to get him fully in the webcam’s view without having to shift much], and he was on for the goal of reading a few messages, pandering to a few donations, busting a nut, and signing off.

Some days he didn’t even read comments, acting as if he weren’t even live as he got himself off, though he’d always make eye contact with the camera and moan about how good it felt.

Other times he would concede to viewer requests; he bought a vibrator, a small thing that looked like bunny ears [aptly called a rabbit, he’d discovered], he did boyfriend service [only once the donation goal was reached], he even ventured into mommy kink territory.

The thing requested of him the most - much to his chagrin - is pet play content, specifically him in a dog getup with puppy ears and a collar, and as much as he tried to portray aloofness to the suggestions, he can’t help the tingle of curiosity at the thought of leather wrapped around his neck.

Expanding his content couldn’t be too bad, right?

Jeongin

Last, but definitely not least, we have our dearest Jeongin, also known as yjinout.

His journey as a camboy sort of wrote itself, thanks to his sharp features yet youthful appearance he was often regarded as a newbie to the sex world; looking to use camming as a way to explore himself under the eager eye of many.

He’s diverse with his content to an extent, mostly trying out things he plans himself but he does take into account some recommendations from the chat when he feels like spicing things up.

Now… if innocence were a genre, he’d be the king of it - from the way he timidly smiles at the webcam, eyes turning into crescents, to the light touches he gives his leaking cock, almost as if he’s not sure when to start or where. 

Everything he does is with an air of unfamiliarity and the curiosity to look for more, and the reaction of when it turns out to be something he likes? Oh, the tips start rolling in.

However, Jeongin isn’t as innocent as his viewers like to view him as - far from it, actually. It’s deception, a game; letting them get off on the idea that he hasn’t had his name screamed to the heavens or even been the reason behind an orgasm that leaves you twitching for more.

He knows some viewers catch on, he can see their comments get drowned out by the influx of praise and “advice” on how to make himself feel good, and it only makes him harder, moan louder as he fucks the brand new fleshlight gifted to him.

Most of his toys are ones gifted from his account’s wishlist, and so far he’s the proud owner of nipple clamps, a fleshlight, and a cockring - it’s not much, but for a newbie such as himself, it’s a good place to start, yeah?

❣ I shit you not, this took me so long to do because I couldn't for the LIFE OF ME decide what trope fit each guy, but I think it turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. ❣ ❣ Any type of feedback is appreciated! Whether it be a simple like, reblog, or keyboard smash and the most essay-like comment, feel free to share your thoughts. ❣

[blarefordaglare]

Fan Joy July day 9

This one’s by @theegh0st

Link: https://www.tumblr.com/theegh0st/754145854541250560/shenanigans?source=share

OH MY GOODNESS those two would most def play cards together! I also love how you emphasize Wind slapping down his card, it’s a beautiful detail that really adds character! Overall the way that the characters poses are fluid is really pleasing to see, and gives personality! I hope you enjoy this fic! 

Also this game reminds me of the game “War” I would play when I was younger (split deck in half, whoever gets all cards wins, there’s more rules on google or smth) so that’s what they’re playing! Also they both cheat, except wind has mischievous cheating legend is more of a card counter type cheating, but obviously you can’t count cards in this game but statistics wise- 

___

“Please Legend!” The youthful, whiney tone of the sailor echoed softly against the damp leaves and the dark, grand, trees, “It’s more fun when you play! I promise I’ll go easy on you!” Wind tugged on the seasoned hero’s calloused hand, yet his feet remained put on the muddy ground. 

Legend inhaled sharply, trying desperately to keep his patience, which was quickly evaporating into the atmosphere, “That’s what I’m worried about,” he fidgeted with the hem of his tunic, the thread coming out and a light rip slowly growing into a hole-he would have to sew that later, “your ‘easy’ is just a glorified cheating.” 

Wind continued to pull, not letting go easily, “Fine! One game-please! It will be fair I promise!” He was borderline desperate at this point, anything to tame the storm of boredom within his mind, “Please! You can’t cheat at war! I promise I won’t switch the cards-you can shuffle!” 

At that point Legend wanted to run, he wanted to yank his arm away and sprint away from that boy as fast as possible, but he was already too far deep, and he could show off his shuffling skills, “…Fine. Ace is high, and no looking at your own cards either. We shuffle after one of us finishes our deck.” 

“Sounds good!” 

Legend split the deck evenly, making sure to include two aces on each side-sure that wasn’t mandatory, but it made things easier for him to keep track of the sailor. He knew he would cheat, after all he did cheat many times before (Legend would never admit it, but he does miss his full wallet.). After successfully splitting the remaining 48 cards, along with shuffling the two decks, the game was ready to commence.

The first round started off smoothly, as the adventurer expected. However, as the game continued, he couldn’t help but notice the grin on Wind’s smile becoming wider and wider, and his pile growing closer and closer to a full deck. 

It was only until Legend and Wind both drew aces at the same time. Currently, Legend knew he had three aces in his deck from previous winnings. He also knew that the three were on the top, so he would be guaranteed a win. It was cheating, he wasn’t supposed to look at his cards, but you can’t trust the adventurer when a game he doesn’t even enjoy gets too intense. Yet, as the two yelled ‘duel’ and slapped down their cards, he was left with the sailor somehow having a second ace. There were only supposed to be four aces in the entire deck, but with Wind having another one, it added up to five.

“Sailor?” Legend’s voice was stern yet inquisitive as he spoke.

“Yes?” 

He tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn’t help but burst out in laughter, “You’re-“ he took a moment to collect himself, “You’re cheating.” 

Wind gasped in mock surprise, “Am not!” The wavering in his voice exposed the feigned innocence, “I promised I wouldn’t!” 

Legend took the two aces from the sailor, then exposing his own three, “The numbers don’t lie, Wind.” With a look of pure mischief, he grabbed a large handful of dirt from the ground, “And you know what happens to cheaters?” 

“No!” Wind shrieked, trying to scramble away as the dark earth was rubbed into his pale blonde hair, “Stop! No! Help! My hair is being murdered!” 

“Then maybe next time don’t cheat.” the adventurer got up, admiring his revenge, “Now excuse me, but I have a tunic to mend.” 

[bea-snow]

I read a tag from @babysdrivers in one of my posts (thanks btw!) that said "#I swear I'm gonna start watching indy next season" and I've thought about it. So, if any of you is thinking about joining the fun, I'm giving you some important IndyCar info:

Last race had 8 safety cars. The SC needed to stop and refuel because of the amount of laps it was doing.

Sometimes drivers crash and NBC shows a slow replay with great music like "drag me down" by One Direction or "shut up and drive" by Rihanna.

You can start the race P20, crash in Turn 1, spin in the pitlane and still win the race. Nothing is impossible.

There's a driver called Sting Ray Robb and another one called Will Power.

The races have great names like "Firestone Grand Prix of St. Petersburg presented by RP Funding" or "Honda Indy 200 at Mid-Ohio presented by the 2023 Accord Hybrid".

Car liverys change from one weekend to the other so you're always confuse about who is who.

There're like 3 different strategies going on at the same time.

They are all idiots (affectionate): https://bea-snow.tumblr.com/post/724839772558950401/not-a-single-normal-person-in-the-indycar

The TV commentators grate cheese live to demonstrate the effect of a dry track on wet tires.

When Will Power got really angry after an accident and shouted on TV that the track was shit, the circuit president took one of the trucks that collects shit from the track porta potties and parked it in front of Power's motorhome (with the keys inside).

"I was way too nice, I’ll make sure he comes with me next time.” is a totally acceptable comment after a crash.

Everybody gets points, even if they're last!

The month of May is just insane.

The vibes are 👌

If you're not curious about it now, I don't know what else to add!

[sencity]

yan! botanist content? i am eating this up, we are so well-fed. but dare i present, yan! botanist x entomologist darling?

hear me out… as a botanist, he does happen to dabble in fieldwork from time to time. prior to meeting you, he’s always gone out alone, but that won’t be necessary anymore, not with you around of course. and, oh, how perfect it is that you too, partake in nature research.

conducting fieldwork with him is so wonderful! he’s so knowledgeable, and surprisingly even a bit in entomology; plants and insects are crucial for their environment and one another, you know. he’s showing you all the beautiful flora, even informing you about their histories and roles in the ecosystem. while you’re studying the insects, he offers to help catch them in jars for you! no matter how many bug bites he gets, it’s all worth it for you. and how his heart swells with absolute love and adoration when you patch him up with bandaids and kisses afterwards.

nothing beats bonding over two people’s passions that co-exist perfectly–– especially when you’re in a grand field, of tall grass and little visibility, miles and miles away from any type of civilization; no one to bother the both of you, no one to take you away from him, just you two.

RAHH this man has awakened something in me…

you don’t understand how i’m tittering in my covers reading ts. my mind FLOODED with ideas bro. just… let me add onto this thought. your mind is WONDROUS.

nightmare fuel: none, unfortunately. except me not proofreading.

sen’s statement(s): link to the rest of my yandere!stinkers, let alone the yandere!botanist because why not?

it was a given that mother nature had finally answered his prayers; of course his love interest has an adoration towards insects! could life get any better!? insects are essential to plant life and vice versa. it’s the universe telling you that he needs you, and you need him! the two of you will soon flourish under each other’s love, why wouldn’t you become the butterfly to his pistil?

although you’ve forgotten about the times when he’d try to act cool for you or a little uncharacteristically, he surely goes out of his way to assist you on your projects. whether it’s collecting blister beetles in jars for your research despite the seething pain emerging in his palms or leading you into secluded fields to chase butterflies with wings that match the colors of your guys’ eyes, he’ll be there! still, you do tend to question his motives when he asks what a certain flower reminds you of and comes up with some poetic, philosophical answer to impress you. jeez, save it for the yandere!poet…

“is that right? hm, i’d assume that wisteria reminds you of your dreams… or that little starfish you’re so fond of—”

“the ochre sea star! yes, they’re nowhere near as perfect as you, but they’re lovely—oh! or plums and grapes! i love purple!”

there’s the sencha you love, the one who rambles about his simplistic passions and dislikes since he’s easily (dis)pleased. you’re here to listen to them all, even if they’re a little irrational and aimless like stick bugs…

goddamn, he can’t stand stick bugs.

even though he alters his personality to your liking sometimes (and fails horrifically, of course) he sometimes manages to appeal to your interest… by being himself. there was a time when you fixated on fireflies, wanting to study the patterns and language of their little light bulbs or what genetics causes some lightning bugs to not glow. sencha of course ran with this information and wanted to help to his best ability by insisting on you to sit your pretty self on the porch while he fetches a few for your research. you weren’t too fond of the idea of him doing the job for you, also potentially taking the fun out of it, but you allowed it this once…

you were going to go retrieve him since it seemed that he disappeared, but it just took him so long to collect so many. you would think he used the jar method again but decided that that’s not enough to truly get you to believe that he loves you, therefore he attracted fireflies with his bare hands…

…by coating his hands and forearms with sugar water in order to please the ravenous lightning bugs. primary his sticky hands were coated with tiny gleaming lights since he started off catching them with his palms, and it’s only natural for the rest of them to follow in pursuit.

“i uh, made a few friends along the way…?” he would titter unsurely as his arms expressed ethereality. he was referring to the random moths or flies that were also interested in the treacly treat, but that was the last thing you were fixated on since you were ordering him to not move so you could take pictures…

the two of you were truly an inseparable duo, a nature fusion much like leaf bugs or orchid mantises…

while we’re on the subject of orchids, the flower is one the both of you are very fond of, even though the both of you are suffering from a silly case of synesthesia.

when y/n hears the word orchid she sees a fuzzy yellow that resembles a bumble bee ever so faultlessly. she could never forget how he managed to get his hands on a bee orchid just to prove that his field of study compliments yours greatly. his point has only been proven even more when you giddily bring up that “orchid mantises” exist somewhere in the wild…

when sencha reads the word orchid, your honey-imbued lips drip onto his taste buds which awakens his sweet tooth and sends him into a sugar rush. you were a gift from mother nature, handcrafted by the goddess psyche herself. he even grew different species of orchids just because he cares for the flower so much!

normally you would adulate the bed of vibrant orchids and laborious pollinators that sprawled across the fields while pondering about those simple facts, whereas he would adulate you like how the tides adore the sand. it’s very hard to wrap around that the two of you were a match-made in heaven; he was sure to make you his once the fireflies began to coruscate …

[blackholesun321]

how many bird like instincts do they have in the wings!au? like was shanks dancing around like a goof when he wanted to impress mihawk early in the courtship? or did he only bring shiny things cuz thats a bird thing and also they are PIRATES like come on bringing shiny things is an overlap in courtships so they gotta do that one

Another ask to add the collection. mmmm yes this shall go into the pile.

I'm all for instincts, maybe even imprinting being more pronounced in this world than ours. Adoptions are not just accepted but expected, and parental and protective instincts are stronger. Perhaps everyone has Talon-like claws for preening and a better grasp. When instincts are high, people may chirp, coo, hiss, or rumble at each other. I'm guessing children are more prone to making noises involuntarily. On more than one occasion, Shanks has been known to call at Mihawk when drunk. It's hilarious how red his face gets, especially if Mihawk calls back.

But yes shiny is a given big shiny little shiny all the shiny! I already have the head canon that Mihawk’s necklace was a gift from Shanks in this au that just means it has a double meaning.

Shanks totally trying to act calm and collected and failing: so I found this cool knife necklace that looks like a cross.. do you want it

Mihawk who is the gaudiest person on the planet and wants the necklace more then god: this is.. acceptable 

Shanks: I mean if you don’t like I can always-

Mihawk: no its mine now I’ll wear it forever

Mihawk has so many rare coins, Shanks found rocks, and jewelry, and soft clothes; he's practically drowning in them. He, of course, is not immune to the pull of giving shiny things to his flock, so he starts giving Shanks weapons taken from his fallen enemies, gems he happened to find, and, Oh, here's a few million Berri silks I bought on a whim. And then it hits him – he's courting Red-Haired Shanks. Shanks, on the other hand, just thinks he's integrating Mihawk into his flock. It's cool; he's done this plenty of times before. But see captain goes and steals an earring worn by a Celestial Dragon because he thinks Mihawk would like it, it isn't just integrating! (Benn is so done; he needs a raise... and more booze, and an even bigger raise – he can't keep dealing with his captain's love life; it's giving him grey hair.)

Maybe less dancing around like an idiot (though that would be funny as hell) and more subtle things, like fluffing up your feathers when someone you like is near or stretching them out doing feather flaps to show off how strong they are. Perhaps dancing is a big part of the culture, but more in a human style, with wing movements worked in. Maybe every culture has their different ideas of dances and what they mean maybe some are more reserved about it maybe some are more open, different cultures, each have a different type of marital dance some involving feathers, some involving beautiful dress, even some involving fire.  sometimes is gendered. Sometimes it isn’t… Oh, flying dancing! Like eagles! Two or more partners fly perfectly in sync and then embrace one another, kiss, and do the dive. A fall locked in an embrace, certain that your partner and you can be so in sync that you can leave the clasp at the exact same time! Its practically means to everyone and sundry that your married if you do it correctly, and don’t like die. Though it has mostly fallen out of fashion with in the blues the only ones who still do it is those individuals who are super traditional and or brave enough or grand-line pirates. Sometimes it can happen on accident though start flying with your partner start mimicking there motions next thing you know instinct takes over and your doing a swan dive off a cliff. Most of time this doesn’t happen but it has and it can.

The dive of Mihawk and Shanks happened at the weirdest, craziest, but very 'them' time. They were both fending off a bunch of marines who'd decided to take them on after one of their many duels, thinking they'd be weaker. They were wrong, very wrong, and now two very pissed-off pirates are slaughtering them. It's not that easy; there's probably a vice admiral or two there, but Mihawk and Shanks are still obviously winning the battle. Eventually, it becomes an aerial brawl, and both of them slowly become more and more  in sync with one another, one heart, one body, four wings, and two swords. Mihawk thrusts, Shanks blocks, Shanks parries, Mihawk ducks. It's a deadly dance, all their own, created in seconds from years of dueling, fighting, and knowing each other backwards and forwards. They fight and they dance, and they win. Then comes the adrenaline high, the after-rush of battle. Covered in blood, sweat, and wounds, practically delirious with blood loss, they embrace, they kiss, and they dive off a fucking cliff. They manage to catch themselves before they hit the ocean, of course, but immediately both of them are torn into by Ben, for getting yourselves almost fucking killed. Gods and devils, congratulations on getting married, but fucking never ever do that shit again.

[ynmnrmt]

You & Me & Rhea Makes Three: Chapter 6

rhea ripley x m!reader x m!reader's girlfriend

word count: 3,831

warnings: explicit sexual content, themes of domination/submission, dubiously consensual nonmonogamy, nonconsensual sex

a/n: So, I could flannel and wring my hands here and claim there's a grey area, but I'm not going to - this chapter contains an explicit rape scene which I am presenting as erotic material. I'm not fucking around here, I'm stating this clearly for the benefit of you the reader, if you don't like the sound of that do not read on. If, on the other hand, you do like the sound of that, then SMASH THAT KEEP READING

(The story so far: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five)

Jennifer is away for work. Another dreary training seminar in the middle of nowhere. She always apologises as she recounts it all for how boring it all is, be it a word association game about customer retention, or sitting in a circle to pass a ball back and forth which somehow represents customer satisfaction, or even attempting to collectively manifest customer relations.

“It’s the ball one again,” she confesses, framed awkwardly in your phone, so that it looks like she is looking up at you from the upside-down world. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take, I need to find something better than this.”

“You’ll be back by the end of the week,” you say, in a cheery hand-on-the-shoulder way.

“And I know we said we were going to have phone sex,” even having negotiated it at length you do have a little tingle of surprise to hear her say it, “but they booked us all double rooms. We’re all fucking paired up, I don’t have a minute to myself.”

“I wish,” you say, and mean it, “I could reach through the screen and hold you in my arms and make everything better.”

In the background as you say this, the door rattles and Rhea walks in, glowing from her run. “Is that Jen?” she mouths – then, without waiting for a reply jumps into view next to you. “Hey, sexy,” she waves hello, then sing-songs “missing you” and pulls your phone up to her face to give the screen a sloppy wet kiss.

“Hey, Rhea,” says Jennifer, still downcast and tired. “God, I wish you guys were here. We’d find a way to fit in a double room, obviously.” You and Rhea both chuckle at that. Her arm is pressed against yours, damp with sweat, it is all too apparent she has been for a run – and it makes your heart beat faster, remembering the long hot summer when the water and electricity were off. Then Jennifer is distracted. “Oh hell, I’m sorry, I have to go. The counting mung beans workshop just started. I’ll speak to you soon. Try not to have too much fun without me.”

“Love you,” you say.

“Love y-” adds Rhea, but then the call cuts off. “Oh, poor thing.” She plucks at her neckline, takes a whiff of herself, and jerks her head back. “God – excuse me!” And she repairs off to the shower, even though you don’t mind at all and tell her so, the dark stains on the back of her shirt define the muscles underneath so beautifully it doesn’t even occur to your lizard brain to look at her ass until she’s already out of the room.

Try not to have too much fun, the words rattle in your mind. Jennifer has gone off to this tedious seminar, leaving you alone with your other girlfriend, and worse still is being so impossibly nice about it all. You clench a fist and pound the couch – you don’t wish you were there with her, you wish she was back here, happy and safe. Yes, and you also wish you earned enough that constant horrible work outings didn’t have to be part of her life.

You resolve to have all the things she likes waiting for her on her return, a great elaborate gesture, anything to try and show the depths of your feelings. All the pillars and domed roofs of your grand design turn into fog when Rhea emerges from the shower, fresh and pink in just a towel, to skip through to her room. That image, her shy little smile as she clutches the towel to herself, remains burned into your consciousness long after she comes back through, dressed now, and flops on the couch next to you to cool off.

“I wish we were there with her too,” she muses, head back on the cushions. “We could cheer her up. Not like that,” she adds, and gives you a playful shove, even though you neither said anything nor changed your demeanour in any way.

“They don’t make you go on any awful training days, do they?” you ask.

“There’s enough health and safety shit. It’s not like it was.” Yes, there’s one you can nod sagely at, because nothing’s like it was. She’s spread out next to you, still warm from the shower, and you try not to let it distract you, but through the material of her quite conservative shorts, you can make out the shape of her vulva. “Ah, I can’t wait till Jen’s back – although I do like it when it’s just us. Sometimes, it’s sort of like we’re cheating on her.”

“Yeah,” you reflect.

“But we’re not, obviously.”

“See, sometimes I worry about where exactly the lines can be drawn, and-”

“Oh, I think I pulled something,” groans Rhea, and plops her leg in your lap. “Would you rub my calves?” It would be rude to say no, that’s what you tell yourself, but you barely need the prompt to put your hands on her. And when you do it’s not even a rub but more of a squeeze, a grope, hungry grabs at her body and her tattooed flesh – but this seems to do the job, because she swivels around in her seat to throw her other leg over you too.

“Look, Rhea,” you say, now doing something to the muscles of her calf that’s between a massage and a gentle pull, trying to get back to the point, “Jen’s really special to me, and-”

“And to me!” Rhea sits forward, in wholehearted agreement. “If she was here, you could take a leg each, instead of you having to do them both yourself.” You can’t even object to the simple purity of the idea. “You know I would never do anything to hurt her, right?” And you nod, there’s no polite way to question that. “So obviously I’d never cheat on her, just like you wouldn’t, but, um, sometimes it’s fun to pretend, you know? I hope she’s thinking about us right now, I hope we can at least cheer her up that way.” Her legs are like an unimaginably comforting blanket, right over your lap.

“I hope so too,” you say vaguely, as you try to shift so she doesn’t notice your hard-on, then you make the complete wrong move and bump it into her.

“See,” she says, as if she’s about to share a secret, “I know how much you love her, you’ve got a boner just talking about her.”

“She’s very special,” you reply, wanting to hang your head in shame.

“She’s perfect,” says Rhea, now she’s got her arms around you, she’s crept closer so it’s her thighs across you, but she’s not actually sitting in your lap and you really have your doubts that would work. As your erection tries to winkle its way between her legs, she muses on “I’ve honestly never been happier, than I have with you guys...and I was proud to wreck that guy who tried messing with you.”

Immediately you feel awkward, far more awkward than you did simply poking at her. Three of them, there had been, and Rhea went for them without a second’s hesitation. “I’m sorry I didn’t do anything there,” you say, and squeeze her thigh like a child, hoping for forgiveness.

“Oh, sweetie, no, you don’t need to be – look,” she says, she sweeps her legs down and comes forward to look you in the eye, “I know when most people say this stuff, they’re just saying it, but I genuinely don’t believe you’re obliged to act in a certain way because of your gender. I really don’t.” And she gives you the sweetest smile, for a moment you cannot bear to meet her gaze. “Besides,” she adds, “I get a bit of a thrill showing I’m stronger than men.”

“Oh,” you react, unable to even try and conceal your own excitement.

“And the thing is,” she says, gently taking your hands in hers, “it’s for exactly all those reasons that I say I reject, all those gender conventions – which I guess makes me the biggest hypocrite in the world.”

“No, you’re not,” you insist, for reasons that have nothing to do with the actual question. “And – and I hope you never feel anything less than perfectly feminine.” Which is probably the wrong thing to say, but you squeeze her hands, and she squeezes yours back and beams – and then she grips them hand and brings them up over your head. You fall back and now she’s on top of you.

“One of the things I always felt was really unfair,” she husks, the cloud of her hot breath making your head spin, as she gets both your hands gripped firmly in one of hers, “is how, in a lot of places, legally speaking women can’t rape men – which is just nonsense.”

“Yeah, i-it’s just stupid,” you agree too quickly, and it’s true, you always thought that was profoundly unjust on the face of it, though any outrage you felt was eclipsed by the little twinge it gave you imagining yourself in that scenario. Your cock is still pressed excruciatingly against her legs, but now it’s from the front, and again you squirm to try and make it better and make it a hundred times worse. It was a crazy thought anyway, it was hardly even a thought, obviously there’s no escape from her goddess-thighs – and if there was, could you bring yourself to take it?

“And I imagine the worst part is when they do get an erection,” she says in an irresistible, candlelit voice, “and they worry that on some level they did want it – which is bound to get really confusing if, like a lot of people, they have secret fantasies about someone they like doing that to them. I know I do.”

“I would be happy to help you with that,” you say immediately, any filter between mind and tongue long gone. She giggles affectionately.

“How about you?” she asks, as she dances from side to side on her hands and knees over you, swaying gently from left to right and back again. “What if Jen just grabbed you and held you down sometime?” You daren’t answer, but then you don’t need to, not when you dig further into her thigh. “And obviously, she,” Rhea’s lips brush along the length of your face, it seems like it’s random, yes, and your erection is probably completely random too, “if you really wanted her to stop, she would, because she loves you.”

“But I couldn’t bear to ask her,” you casually confess, “not by that point,” and Rhea laughs in understanding fashion in a way that makes you laugh along with her, yes, neither of you could stand to deny her, not in that situation. Then, showing amazing skill with her one free hand, she’s unzipped your trousers and takes hold of your cock. “Wait,” you say, not saying no, just asking her to wait, “wait, Rhea, Jen’s not here-”

“Oh, I know,” she sympathises, as she eases down her shorts that barely concealed anything anyway, “but let’s pretend she is.”

“Rhea, seriously, wait-” and now she kisses you, properly, not an ounce of force behind it, just her mouth against yours. You squirm, you burn internally, in this moment you don’t love anyone quite as much as you love her. You even try to break out of the iron grasp of her hand around your wrists, you know she’s stronger than you, and maybe you didn’t really want to anyway. Then she moves and then you are inside her.

“You make me so wet when you wriggle,” she says, and she’s telling the truth, all you can see is the devilish delight on her face and the halo of light around it. Her next forceful kiss is a lick at first, up across your cheek while she fucks you, but your lips end up locked with hers all the same.

“Please,” you say, when your mouth is free of hers, “stop – help -” and all the while her hips bang against you, as if drawing poison from a wound, you do not want to call it rape even in your own head because it feels so good. The way she presses down on you, the way she squeezes you, of course you don’t resist.

“Oh fuck – oh fuck,” Rhea wails, her lip draws against your face with the worlds, she’s hardly even holding your wrists any more. In fact, she gives up on that and just takes hold of your arms with both hands, because ���I love holding you this way – doesn’t it feel so sensual?” As she keeps going you hear something break in the couch and her vulnerability makes your heart run liquid, you feel bad at having resisted at all.

“Rhea,” you try not to choke, “I don’t want this-”

“Oh sweetie, I don’t want it to end either, I’m so close already – please, hold out a little longer for me, please do that for me,” it seems like every word is punctuated with the light headbutt of her kissing you again. Because you love her you do hold on, as best you can without use of your hands, you bite your lip and project mental energy in any other direction, you feel your spine warp, and when she cries out with joy you can no longer resist and go off, torrential inside her. But her magnificent form doesn’t stop moving, the way she goes up and down your cock isn’t even slowed, perhaps it’s sheer momentum but more likely every lap she’s run and weight she’s lifted paying off. And as she keeps riding you and keeps enjoying it, the pain of her using a part of you that doesn’t want to be used, that, that is the finest feeling in the world.

*

You lie together afterwards, Rhea’s still on top, she sewing-machines the side of your neck with tiny pecks that are gentler than seems possible from her. “You’re perfect,” she confesses, in her post-sex flush that makes her seem flawless herself. “And the best part is, we know this is all okay. I know you worry about this, but Jen isn’t going to mind, not really.”

“Mm-hm,” you say, still not really convinced and muffled by Rhea’s hair anyway.

“I still feel all tingly thinking about it.” Yes, to be sure, you do too. “Obviously if we didn’t want it, that would be monstrous – but we did, so it’s just a fun, sexy thrill. I mean, if I thought I’d hurt you or something, I couldn’t forgive myself. Not for that.”

Immediately you conceive of this as the cruellest sort of manipulation. But deep down, you know it isn’t, not really, because you had wanted it, maybe not with a completely clear conscience, but you had, you’d burned for it. You squeeze her big, fabulous body, and for a moment you see her smile, as if she is blocking out the sun. Then she rests her head on you, between your chest and your shoulder, a gesture at normality that must have her long legs hanging off the end of the couch.

There’s a noise, a twinkle. It’s your phone. With Rhea on top of you, it’s some struggle to get your fingers into your pocket, but eventually you manage it. When you see Jen’s name pop up on the screen, there’s the familiar dread, the feeling that finally the other boot is about to drop. “What does our girlfriend say?” Rhea asks sweetly.

When you open the message, Jennifer hasn’t actually said anything. The message is a picture, her naked in striking moody light, the tangled bedsheet nearly covering one of her breasts. She hasn’t shown any of her face above the mouth, a sensible precaution, but at least now she looks as if she’s enjoying herself. You look at her arms, her stomach, soft and rounded where Rhea’s is hard, and not for the first time you wish she was here.

“Hello, hello,” says Rhea, you can feel the smirk twist her face. There’s another twinkle, and a text from your girlfriend pops up reading maybe you can pretend I’m there as well. God, how you’d love to. “Aww...she might just break my heart one day,” and Rhea’s lips are so close to yours that when she says it, your mouth moves too.

“She’s so pretty,” you say longingly, perhaps this moves Rhea’s mouth as well, and you want to cry but know you cannot show that weakness.

“Maybe, um, maybe we should go again? For her?” Her fingers rest lightly on your chest, but there’s no way in hell you could move them.

*

You had thought, an entirely theoretical but perfectly plausible grand plan, that you would greet Jennifer with a smorgasbord of all the things she likes. There would be the white chocolate cookies, and beer on ice – not wine, she feels faintly obliged to drink that on special occasions but you know what she’d choose given the chance. You’d have queued up one of those documentaries on Bigfoot hunters, yes, of course you and she would show up in the viewing figures the same as a genuine nut, but the craziness is still fun. And you’d have wrapped her up in a blanket and ordered in whatever takeout her little heart desired.

When Jennifer opens the door, she sees you on the couch, slimy with sweat and gasping for breath, wearing a t-shirt but no trousers or underwear, that least dignified form of nudity. She barely has time to put her suitcase down before Rhea creeps up from the side and snarls “You have no idea how much we missed you”, and grabs the front of her shirt. There is one sharp tug, the buttons spray everywhere, and for a moment she looks scared, horrified even – but that only lasts until Rhea bows her head and rubs her face in amongst Jennifer’s breasts.

“Oh!” flutters Jennifer. “Oh, Rhea…” And she shoots you the same sort of guilty glance you know you’ve given her more than once.

“And I missed these, too – come on, come sit with us,” though there’s no real request about it, Rhea scoops Jennifer up in her arms, and it seems as if they share a long slushy bonding look – but scarcely a second in Rhea throws her down on the couch, and you manage to scrabble out of the way just in time. Then you clutch her, protectively, though there’s no kind of protection you know how to offer that could stop Rhea as she flops her whole weight down on Jennifer’s other side.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you tell Jennifer, and for a while she doesn’t stop saying how much she loves you – pressing her face into your neck, as if something’s wrong. “H-” you gather yourself a little, “how was the – thing?”

“I’m fucking sick of it all,” she says, still nestled within you. “The whole time I was just thinking about being back here. With you.”

You find her hand and hold it tight. “You’re safe now,” you say gently.

“Yeah,” adds Rhea, “we’ve got you.”

“Have – have you two just been fucking, the whole time I’ve been away?” asks Jennifer. There’s no judgement in it, just curiosity, but it still goes straight to the black pit of your stomach.

“Not the whole time,” teases Rhea.

“You sent that picture,” you say, “it set us off,” and while this is true as you say it you know that it is a lie. And now you have the painful realisation that you never even sent a reply – but Jennifer giggles in response.

“There was one thing,” she adds, immediately you are in that intense, bottomless state of not knowing where this is going. “I did think – well, we’re not, Rhea, you don’t want children, right?”

Rhea runs a hand over her rock-hard stomach, as if imagining it swollen by pregnancy, and shrugs “Could be a novelty act, I don’t think it’s been done before.” Then she thinks, and says “There’s a reason for that, of course.”

“See, I just think,” Jennifer falters, she’s looking at you now, touching your chest, eyes full of hope, “I really wanted to – would you not come in her, any more?” And a nervous glance to Rhea with it.

“Yes!” you blurt out, faster than you’d meant to. “I mean, sure, if that’s what you want.”

Rhea gently takes Jennifer’s hands in hers, the muscles bulge in her arms but you can tell she’s not using any force here. “I have to ask,” she says, “is this about you wanting it all to yourself?” For a second, Jennifer is frozen. Then she nods, violently, all of her hair shaking with the motion. And Rhea’s expression softens, and she says “I’m so glad you said that. In fact, never mind that, I’m proud of you, I’m glad you’re setting a boundary. This whole time I’ve been worried that you’re just going along with all of this but really you haven’t actually liked it.”

“O-of course not!” insists Jennifer. Rhea smiles gently down at her, and kisses her gently on the cheek, another thing you really wish you’d done.

“Are you sure?” you ask her, and she gives you the same shaky, exaggerated nod she did before, but it’s the expression on her face that really gives you the answer.

“That’s good,” says Rhea, and brings her hands up to Jennifer’s shoulders, and starts to rub them gently. “Because in that case, I’ve got a surprise for you.” And she pulls Jennifer down, face-first, into her vagina, because of course she is not fully dressed either. “A nice sticky treat for you.”

Jennifer gives a little blocked “Hmph!” of surprise, but that gives way to the sloppier sounds of her tucking in to Rhea – and, yes, what Rhea took from you about half an hour ago. You goggle at them, not knowing what to think or do. Rhea looks fondly back at you, and with one hand in Jennifer’s hair reaches out to you with the other.

“I think she’d really like it-” Rhea begins – and then a little start, a flush, that shows Jennifer’s tongue has found a particularly soft area. She gathers herself and tries again, “I think you should do her from behind. Since she wants you so much.” And down between her thighs, there’s that frantic nod again.

You climb around behind Jennifer, and ease down her underwear – but before you do anything more you lean over her and whisper in her ear how much you love her, and how you want this to be good for her. Even when she says something that is of course muffled by Rhea’s vulva but sounds a lot like “fucking stick it in before I burst” it feels as if you are taking advantage.

[willofwinnie]

Dogs of Auldrant

Throughout the game, there are many different dog models seen in ports and in cities. This is a collection of as many as I could find and my best guess of what breed they may be! Long post!

There are four main interactable dogs that use the same floppy-eared model but slightly recolored. These models you can see in the towns, ports, and bays. Other "dog" models (three) can be seen in special locations.

The first dog is the most common model seen in the game with four instances. To me, it honestly looks like a Borzoi. These dogs are also known as the Russian Wolfhound. As the name suggests, these dogs were used to help hunt wolves. This model can be seen in Akzeriuth, Belkend Port, Engeve, and Keterburg. While this dog can truly be anything from looks alone, using some other clues might help with this guess. The enemies around the locations of these dogs do help. Wolves are common around the Cheagle woods, Deo Pass, west Aberrian plains (Belkend area), Daath area, and Keterburg area. Almost everywhere wolves are, these dogs appear (except for Daath which does not have this dog). Borzois also can do well in cooler climates but will need a warm place for heavy winters.

The second is seen three times (from what I can find). It looks most like a Rough Collie (or a collie of some sort), specifically one with bent ears (though that detail is just because of the reused model). These dogs are bred for farm work like herding. This model can be found in Port Sheridan, Sheridan, and St Binah. No other dog that I have found in the game has such a distinct white band around its neck. While I do not know why this breed appears here rather than a town like Engeve, it is interesting to see another color pattern!

The third coloration is tied in the middle with three instances. It looks either like a Labrador Retriever or a Golden Retriever. Both these dogs were bred to retrieve game and swimming. This model can be found in Daath (Fourth Stone Monument), Grand Chokmah. And St. Binah. Locations do not help much to pin down this breed. Grand Chokmah is on the water, Daath near the ocean, and St. Binah is nowhere near water. In general, Labs and Goldens are popular breeds of dogs, number 2 and 3 of 2023 according to the AKC. So, I would not be surprised if this dog happened to be one of these two breeds.

The fourth dog also shows up three times. This dog is the most recognizable out of all of them, a Dalmatian. These dogs were bred to walk alongside coaches and help hunt. This model can be found in Baticul (by the docks), Keterburg Bay, and Daath Port. Location can somewhat help as these dogs appear by the docks. These locations, aside from Baticul, require a fair distance of travel to reach their respective cities. It makes sense that these dogs are around locations where people need to travel once they land.

There are three other "dogs" in the game. Peko is a named dog, and he is a Shiba Inu, just like his owner’s name. Honestly, the most on the nose dog there is on this list! The second “dog” is in the Sheridan Music Box house. It appears to be some sort of bulldog, my best guess is a French Bulldog! I say “dog” because I am unsure if this is a model for the machine or an actual dog. It doesn’t bark, whine, or anything. It only spins on this machine, and to my knowledge does not appear anywhere else. The third sort-of “dog” is an enemy in the game, the Theor Forest Watcher Wolf. It appears to have a collar and is domesticated for the Malkuth Military, so might as well add this ferocious good boy on the list!

I did not find any dogs in Belkend (city), Yulia City, Chesedonia, Kaitzur (town nor port), or the Desert Oasis. So, this is all I have for dogs. I did not search through every building or area. Feel free to add what you think these breeds are or if I missed anything! In the end, they're all certified good dogs!

[spektre-writes]

A Hungarian point of view of that infamous F1 throphy incident (no, I refuse to make THAT joke, this is supposed to be a serious post, yeah?):

So, home grand prix, right? Exciting shit, even when you’re not too immersed in this sport. A hot summer weekend, what better to do than turning on the tv and checking out the race (and being super jealous of all the YouTubers that got invited into the Paddock Club – it doesn’t matter if you don’t know shit about F1, it’s “for the clicks” as Max Verstappen would say). And this is how I was witness to the winner’s throphy get destroyed by the papaya team’s one and only Lando Norris. It should be fun and games and friendly banters and memories to keep forever – too bad there’s also a hand-crafted throphy that took approximately six months(!!) to make, and it also costs about 40K in euros. But this isn’t the main point here. People sharing my viewpoint are making it seem like this is what it’s all about, and I love you all for speaking out, but let me offer a bit of correction here.

If it was a generic, mass produced throphy, I’d laugh along with everyone involved. I mean, it is such a lovely sight – seeing two drivers having friendly banters and showing so much respect towards each other and making an otherwise lacking race memorable.

BUT. And here’s the most important part: this throphy was made by Hungary’s biggest porcelain manufactory. It’s design, the whole process of making it – it’s all part of our cultural heritage. Throphies are usually just objects, right? It isn’t important what they are made of but what they represent. But with this special throphy? It isn’t just something that represents a win – it also represents a country and its culture. The first three won’t just take home points and an object to represent it, they also take home with them a piece of Hungary. A piece of a foreign culture. An art piece, not just another generic throphy to add to their collection. And this is the part people ignore because let’s be honest. We are talking about a sport that moves millions on a single day, paying 40K for a porcelain vase isn’t going to slap them in the face. This isn’t about the money, nor about compensating the people (the artists!) working on these beauties. And don’t come at me with the argument that that throphy is now worth more broken because it isn’t about how much it is worth either.

Breaking that throphy — hell, it’s not even the “oops I broke it” part that is making me see red, it’s the JOKES the respective teams and the audience keep posting — means you’re ignorant and lowkey (lowkey??) disrespectful towards a culture.

Who to blame here? I don’t want to point fingers because I have no idea if anyone on the podium was aware how proud we are that aside from getting to house a race here, we also give a piece of our culture to the winners to take home with them. BUT I’m proposing everyone involved should be educated on this matter.